#The oldest doll of this family

[waivyjellyfish]

Ka-Lun has been with you for 36 generations, he’s quite a grandfather. You should give him tech-diagnostics, and grease him, clanging is not a good sign.

[ghostsangel]

he might not be your man, but he is the right man

simon “ghost” riley x married!reader (based off this reblog comment i got on my last oneshot)

tags/warnings: mdni, unprotected sex, breeding kink, spitting, infidelity (your marriage sucks), overstimulation, reader is plus-size

Your marriage isn’t the best.

You’ve fallen out of love with your husband—and he is a good man. As good as he can be, anyway. You’re not sure when the neglect from him started, but he hardly touches you anymore. A kiss and a cuddle here and there, but nothing more. It’s been about a year and a half since the two of you have slept together.

To say you are touch deprived is an understatement.

Maybe he didn’t like your body anymore—after three kids, you don’t look the same as you did when you got married. Stretch marks cover your apron belly, a scar on the skin from the c-section when you had your second child. Instead of a sharp jawline, your face is round and soft, the double chin a prominent reminder that you’ll never look how you did six years ago. Your thick thighs hold stretch marks and jiggle when you walk, and your ass—let’s just say it’s a handful.

Despite the weight gain, you like your body. Love is a strong word, but you like it. It housed your three kids for nine months, your kids that you adore with your entire heart.

But something is missing.

Simon is an old friend. Your oldest friend, actually. The two of you have been friends since high school when you skipped classes together to smoke joints in his car. For a while, you had a massive crush on the tall, gruffly Englishman, but it faded when he left for military service right out of school and you met your husband.

Still, the two of you wrote letters when he was away and saw each other every time he came back from deployment. He grew from a lanky kid to a strong adult and all the while never stopped being your friend.

Of course, you invite him to everything. The kids’ birthday parties, New Year’s parties, Halloween, Christmas. Simon doesn’t have a family, so in truth, you became his surrogate family. The kids think of him as an uncle and go into a frenzy every time they see him—“Uncle Simon’s here! D’you think he’d give me a piggyback ride?”

He watches you from afar—not that you notice. He sees the unhappiness in your posture when he’s with you and your husband, the lifeless sort of emptiness hollowed out behind your gaze, but he says nothing. He knows you’ll talk to him about it when you’re ready, as much as it pains him to see his best friend hurting.

However, Simon can’t help but feel like whisking you away from your dumbass husband and showing you what being wanted really feels like. He may not be who you’re with now, but he’s the right guy—the guy you should’ve married instead of your husband.

Tonight, you sat in his living room, the two of you meeting up for a weekly friend’s night. He got back from deployment a few days ago, and this is a ritual the two of you have every time he returned.

You sip on a glass of wine—your drink of choice, dressed in a pair of shorts and a top. When you’re with Simon, you don’t feel as hesitant at showing your body—thick thighs and arms, fabric clinging to your belly. He’s known you for too long to care.

“How’s the husband?” Simon asks, eyes flicking to your face. He never wears the mask around you—and you can see his scars that run along his skin, etched into his features forever.

You shrug, sighing, hesitating. “He’s fine.”

Simon tilts his head to the side, taking a swig of his beer. His eyes scan over your expression before trailing down your body. He shifts on the couch, one hand resting on his thick thigh, legs spread.

“You okay? We’ve been friends for fuckin’ ages, doll. I can tell when you’re hidin’ somethin’.”

Your eyes flick to his, trying to ignore the warm feeling in the bottom of your tummy. It’s stupid—a subtle hint of concern from another human being makes your stomach flip.

“My marriage is sort of…crumbling,” you murmur, one of your thick thighs hitting his as you adjust on the couch.

His brows pull together and he sets his beer down on the coffee table. “Elaborate.” He doesn’t need you to—he knows what you’re going to say.

You drain your wine and grip the stem of the glass. “He just doesn’t…love me anymore, I don’t think. Doesn’t touch me or have sex with me. It’s been almost two years, Simon. I’m going insane.”

“Have you thought of leaving him?” He probes, resisting the urge to reach over and squeeze your plushy thighs and stomach.

“Yeah, but…it’s complicated with the kids.”

“Kids deserve to be raised in a home where there’s love,” Simon simply states.

His words make you look into his eyes, and you can see an underlying emotion there that you’ve never seen before from him. His fingers twitch, and for a moment, you’re certain he’s going to touch you. The thought makes heat flare between your thighs, setting your neglected cunt on fire.

You set the glass down and look back at him, shaking your head. “Pretty sure he’s fucking someone else. Probably that young girl from his work—she’s thin and pretty and—”

Simon’s hand reaches over to grip your thigh, cutting off your sentence. Your breath hitches in your throat and your eyes meet his again. His nostrils are flared, and he grips the fat of your thighs like you’re gonna vanish.

“You’re beautiful, doll. Always have been. A little more meat on your bones doesn’t mean you can’t get someone’s cock hard.”

His words stun you. You don’t think you’ve heard anyone call you beautiful in years—and it makes tears well in your eyes as you look at Simon. His eyes flick to your lips, and then his hand is on the back of your neck, tugging you to him.

Your lips meet his in a hungry kiss, lips moving together and tongues running along one another. He grips your waist and moves you like you weigh nothing, settling you on his wide lap. A fervent moan slips past your lips when his hard cock presses against your aching cunt, already soaked.

His big hand moves from the back of your neck to your ass, squeezing the flesh so hard, you’re sure it’ll bruise. His other hand runs down your side to slip under the hem of your shirt. His fingertips graze your stomach until they get to your chest, furiously working to tug the cups of your bra down.

“Get this off,” he mumbles against your lips, tugging your shirt over your head, his fingertips working at the clasp of your bra as soon as the shirt leaves his grip.

Your face flushes when he tosses the bra away, eyes drinking you in hungrily. His hands squeeze the flesh of your ass, a sharp slap echoing in the otherwise silent room when he spanks you. You whimper, and he chuckles before taking a nipple into his mouth and working it with his tongue.

Your back arches, a moan ripping past your lips as his tongue swirls over the neglected bud. Electricity jolts straight to your pussy, and it’s embarrassing to you that you’re already practically dripping for him and he’s barely touched you.

Your nails dig into his neck and he lets out a groan against your nipple before switching to the other side, tongue flicking quickly against the hardening peak. You hear a ripping sound and realize he’s ripped your shorts and panties clean off of you, and Simon grins against your skin as he tosses them to the floor.

His big hands spread your cheeks apart, one hand drifting between your legs to the apex of your thighs. He releases your nipple with a pop as his fingertips run through your soaked folds, the touch making you weak in the knees.

“So fuckin’ wet for me, love. Bet that shithead of a husband couldn’t get you as wet as me,” he murmurs against your skin, teeth nipping and biting up your chest as he speaks. “Don’t worry, doll. I’ll show you how a real man should make you feel.”

His sentence is accentuated by a harsh suck on the skin of your neck, and your eyes roll back as you grind down on his hard cock. You want him so bad, it’s embarrassing, and you can’t help the whine when his tongue runs over the mark he just made and up your neck.

Simon pushes your back to the couch, his hips slotted between your legs as he kisses you again, hungry and needy. He’s dreamt of this for years—and he’s not going to waste his time now that he’s gotten it. The kiss is full of spit and tongues, him swallowing your moans as his fingers work at your clit.

Your legs jolt as he rubs in slow circles, back arching when he presses down a little harder. He smirks down at you, taking in your hooded eyes and open mouth, and he can’t help but use his other hand to grip your jaw. He holds your mouth open, letting his spit drip into your mouth before closing it for you.

Your eyes glaze over at the action, whining as you swallow and open your mouth again, almost like you’re ready for more. The sight alone makes his cock throb, and he slips two fingers into your neglected pussy.

The stretch is intense, but you welcome it as he fingers you, thumb rubbing your clit. His fingers curl and he grins as he feels you clench tightly around him.

“Gonna come already, love? That’s okay, go on. Got some making up to do, don’t I?”

The squelch of your pussy is lewd as he finger fucks you, the coil inside your tummy tightens as he stares into your eyes. His fingertips hold your head in place, making you look at him as he brings you to the edge.

Your back arches when you come, juices gushing from your throbbing cunt and onto Simon’s fingers. You whine nonsense, legs trembling as pleasure runs through you. Before you know what’s happening, your legs are over his shoulders and his fingers are replaced with his tongue.

Your hips jolt and you groan, trying to back away from him, but his large hands hold you in place. “Don’t fuckin’ run, sweetheart. You can take it.”

Your fingers tangle in his hair as his tongue swirls over your throbbing clit, your eyes fluttering shut as the painful pleasure he’s bringing you. He ruts his hips against the couch as he eats you out, one hand on your belly, the other on your hip.

“Simon,” you gasp out as his tongue flicks quick strokes across your clit, legs still trembling as you feel your second orgasm build quickly. “Ple…I can’t…”

“You can,” he mumbles against your clit before diving back in, sucking and licking like a man starved.

He doesn’t stop when you cry out and come the second time, or the third. After the fourth, he kisses up your body, tongue trailing over your sweaty skin. He leaves open-mouthed kisses on your neck before kissing you, gripping your waist and moving you to straddle him again.

His fingers work the zipper on his pants and he pulls his cock free, running his leaky tip along your wet, swollen folds. He breaks the kiss, staring into your eyes as he lines himself up with your pussy.

You slowly sink into his cock and you lean your head forward onto his shoulder, whimpering as he stretches and fills you up. His breathing is already ragged, soft moans filling your ears as you sit on him.

“Fuckin’ hell, love. This cunt was made for me, wasn’t it?” He murmurs against your ear, nipping at your earlobe as he grips your hips.

You don’t have to do any work—he knows you’re tired. All you have to do is lean against him while he fucks into you from below, his thick cock stretching your walls and his tip hitting the spongy spot inside you that makes your toes curl.

His hands spread your asscheeks apart as he ruts into you, the room filled with your moans and his breathy gasps. You never knew sex could feel this fucking good—it’s a new sensation to you.

“God, wanna fuck this pussy everyday,” Simon growls in your ear, one hand moving to your hair to tilt your head back. “Wanna fuck you in every position possible and fill you up till you’re pregnant with our baby.”

The thought makes your head spin, and you feel your breath stutter as your cunt clamps down around him. He grins against your ear, using the grip on your hair to tug your head back and look into your eyes.

“Yeah, you want that? Want me to fuck a baby into you so you can leave that pathetic man and be with me?” He asks, and you can feel his cock twitch inside of you.

You nod, nails digging into his shoulders. “Yes, Simon, f-fuck—”

His smile widens and he thrusts up into you faster, the slap of skin on skin growing louder. “I can do that, doll. Be a good little slut and take it for me, yeah?”

The look in his eyes—feral, protective, hungry—it’s enough to send you over the edge. Your pussy throbs around him and your vision goes white as your body shakes, screaming out Simon’s name as he continues to pound you through your orgasm.

“That’s it, fuck yeah, baby. Feels like heaven when you’re squeezin’ my cock like that,” he grunts out, thrusts becoming sloppier as he nears his orgasm. “Gonna fill this greedy cunt up.”

You gaze into his eyes, your own hooded and fucked out as you nod, whimpering out a “please” at his words. His lips crash into yours as he grunts and moans, hips stilling as he buries his thick cock inside you, throbbing as he spills ropes of cum inside your womb.

Simon pants in your ear, his fingers running up and down your back as he tries to collect himself. He grips your hips, cock still inside you, and you feel him smile.

“Gonna do that till your belly’s swollen with my baby, sweetheart.”

—————————————

see this oneshot’s companion here!

[flowersandbigteeth]

Would you ever consider doing an Orc royalty arranged marriage? The Orcs have taken over a Human kingdom, because of their low birthrate (and because humans are universal breeders). The Orcs start scanning the Humans in their newly conquered territory for the most genetically compatible mates, which the royalty obviously gets the first pick of because the royal line is seen as the most important. Reader happens to be the most compatible with a member of the nobility, or maybe even the royal family, and so is married off to Orc King/warlord or the Warlord’s son/the crown prince/heir.

Yes! This one was so fun to write ^_^. I had an idea for a reader with a speech disability in my drafts, and this seemed like the perfect scenario to use it. It's a little long and very fluffy. Now that I've done this one, I kind of want to do one about Vola's romance, as well. (how they met, etc.)

Orc King (Golmad) x f reader with speech disability

Word Count: 8k

TW: there is a lot of orc fluff followed by nsfw orc smut, p in v sex, some light violence, bullying by family member, arranged marriage, size difference

“Straighten your back (Y/N),” your mother snapped as she adjusted the obnoxious pink bow on your head. “You must look perfect for the King.” 

She wrinkled her nose at you. 

“Considering your…deformity…You need to look as pretty as possible, so he won't toss you aside.” 

“Oh, shut it, Mauria!” Your father chuckled, taking a thirsty sip of his wine. “A silent wife is a blessing! He’s gonna be thrilled!”  

She gave him a withering look before turning back to you and fussing with a lock of hair. Tears burned at the back of your eyes, but as usual, you said nothing. 

“Don't make that face, darling, smile!” 

You pasted a fake smile on your lips, wishing you could be anywhere else. She licked her thumb and rubbed some stray blush off your cheek before she took a step back, looking you over. 

“Wonderful! Like a little doll!” 

“Oh look, the future Queen,” your perfect big sister Starla sneered as she wandered to the pile of olives at your father's side, popping one in her mouth. “You sure you don't want to fuck one of the stableboys before that Orc splits you in two? I’d hate for you to die before you have your first orgasm!” 

She and your father cackled in laughter, but your mother frowned. Not because she insulted you, but because your mother was the pinnacle of decorum. 

“Don't talk like that, Starla. It makes you sound cheap. You're going to be Queen soon. You need to learn grace and discretion.” 

She snorted, grabbing your father's goblet of wine and taking a big gulp.

“When I'm Queen, Rotham will defeat all these miserable monsters and put their heads on pikes! Too bad (Y/N) won't live to see it after that awful creature snaps her like a twig!” 

Your smile fell, and you looked away. As the oldest daughter, Starla should have been the offering to the King of the Orcs. But Starla was beautiful and brilliant and talented and popular and…blah blah blah. Your parents couldn’t waste her on the insurgent Orc king. The nobles all thought they’d make a comeback, stage a coup, and everything would go back as it should be. Starla would marry the human prince, Rotham, still in hiding, and become the real Queen. 

You were the spare, a sacrifice to placate the enemy. Suffering a sickness as a child, your vocal cords were fused. You couldn't speak or make any noise other than whimpers and mewls. The snobby nobles your parents spent time with had labeled you damaged. When they bothered to speak to you, they acted as though you were dim, as well, which you were not. That was the only thing you surpassed Starla at, you were a very fast reader and quite good with math. 

When the Orcs overthrew the former King, they said they were looking for fertile human wives. Humans bore children at twice the rate of the Orcs, so they’d taken the kingdom to secure their hold on the region with big, robust families. 

 You were all required to submit a blood sample to determine if you were compatible, and then you'd be assigned to an Orc husband. Your mother didn't dare submit Starla’s blood. She had to remain untouched for the human prince. So she sent yours and one of the maids. Yours was a match…to the King. 

You all turned as an Orc dressed in fine livery appeared at the door. 

“The King will see you now,” he said, then turned and left. 

“Look how they dress themselves,” Starla whispered. “As if they're civilized! What a joke! He didn't even stay to escort us! Savages.” 

Your parents chittered while you sucked in a deep breath. Your mother shoved you through the door, eager to get to the negotiations, her favorite part of any encounter. 

“Back straight! Chin up! You are representing our family.” 

You stumbled forward, following the direction the Orc butler had gone. You'd been in the castle before, attending court with your parents, but as you stepped into the large hall, you saw it had all changed. 

The old tapestries had been torn down, replaced with large pelts of animals you'd never even seen before, their heads preserved and their eyes replaced with glass balls. The old wooden furniture was now twisted iron, probably made by the mountain dwarves, allies of the Orcs. They’d provided most of the weapons that led them to victory. The new flag, green with a bear and an axe pictured in silhouette, was hanging behind his throne. 

Orcs lined the gallery, laughing and chattering, but they all fell silent as you entered. You took a thick breath, forcing yourself to put one foot in front of the other and ignore their curious eyes. 

You heard Starla snort behind you as if this was all hilarious. Her disdain made you lift your chin. You would not go to the King as her joke. 

Your first glimpse of your future husband from across the long hall made your eyes widen. Even from far away, he was massive. He must have been nine or ten feet tall and wide as an Ox. 

On his broad shoulders, he wore a thick fur stole over a neat indigo shirt lined with the same cream fur. His thick legs were tucked in matching navy pants and imposing black boots. His outfit was surprisingly human. Behind him, massive shining weapons were arranged on a stand, just within arm's reach. 

When you arrived at the end of the carpet leading you to him, you curtsied as you'd been taught. 

You couldn't greet him verbally, so you waited for your mother to present you. 

“Your majesty!” She crooned. “Please let me present my lovely daughter (Y/N), your perfect blood match!” 

You tried not to tremble in front of him, but this close, he was so very large! His gold eyes passed over you, cool as cold metal. You’d never seen an Orc close-up before, and everyone had told you they were ugly, but the King in front of you was…not. No, he didn't look human, but his jaw was thick and sharp, and his eyes were a beautiful, rich color, like the setting sun. 

Thick black hair fell over one shoulder, shaved to the skin on one side. A full bottom lip wrapped around large tusks that were more exciting than unappealing. His skin was flawless, olive green that reminded you of a mossy forest. Everything about his countenance screamed royalty, though he didn't wear a crown like a human King, his head tipped up, unafraid and confident. Instead, a chunky gold chain link necklace hung around his neck, with a large diamond set at the center, identifying him as the regent.

Your breath became labored as the reality that he would soon be your husband set in. You had no idea how you could be compatible. He was almost twice your height!  

The King nodded for your mother to go on. 

“Unfortunately, my dear daughter suffered a sickness in her youth that stole her voice, but she's otherwise healthy, untouched, and fertile. Fit for a crea- King.”

The casual discussion of your sexual history in front of a hundred-odd strangers made you blush and dip the chin you'd been trying so hard to keep up.  Before you could stop it, a tear slipped down your cheek, and you hurriedly wiped it away, probably smearing blush across your cheek. Behind you, your sister snickered. 

You peered back up at the King, wondering if he was disappointed. His eyes darted to her, and his frown deepened before they returned to you. Your heart sank, assuming he was comparing you to your stunning sister. Instead, he did the last thing you expected. He signed to you. 

“Is your family always this tiresome?”

You released an audible gasp, one of the few sounds you could make, but signed back. Learning to read sign language was something your parents and sister never bothered to do. You’d learned from the kind chaplain at the church, one of the few places your mother allowed you to go alone. He thought you ought to have a way to communicate that didn’t involve scribbling notes on paper—your parents and pretty much everyone else preferred to communicate at you, not with you. 

“I'm sorry if they displease you, Your Majesty.” 

A wide smile spread on his lips as he signed back. 

“You are incredibly polite for the daughter of such fools.”

You giggled, and your parent’s wide eyes danced between you. 

“You don't have to see them again if you'd rather not.”

At that, your breath caught in your throat, and you chose your next thought carefully. 

“Please don't kill them, Your Majesty.”

That drew a deep chuckle from his throat. It was rich and smooth, like chocolate. 

“Since you asked so politely….but if you change your mind, just let me know.”

You gave him a tight nod, unsure if he was joking or not. 

Your mother, not appreciating being out of the loop, cleared her throat. 

“Since the two of you seem to be getting along so…familiarly…there's only the matter of the reward you promised. Of course, considering the status of the match, (Y/N) being the Queen and all…we expect a significant...investment.”

The Orcs promised to compensate every family for whichever daughter they took. It was the only way they could get the citizenry not to revolt at every turn. Making each daughter valuable in gold appealed to their sensibilities, especially after the draining war. A thick eyebrow shot up on the King’s face, and your mother continued with her pitch. 

“You wouldn't want the family of the Queen living in squalor. Not because we are greedy, of course. Never that. We are incredibly humble. But we lost a great deal of our fortune during the war. What would the citizens think? You don't want them assuming you scraped some farm girl from the manure pile. We are a noble family and must exude a certain level of status, don't you agree? Especially considering her condition.” 

Your eyes widened that your mother would be so bold, but his eyes shifted to her and narrowed. He rolled a finger in her direction, signaling her to go on.   

“What exactly do you mean about her condition?” 

Seeing an opening, your mother gave him a genteel smile. 

“Well, we understand that (Y/N) will never take an active role in your rule- Her value lies in the heirs she can produce.” 

“And isn't that a blessing?” Your father piped in. “A pretty little quiet wife is preferable, no? Worth twice a chatty wench!” 

Your mother shot him a look, and swatted him. 

“I'm just saying…” he muttered before she went on. 

“What I mean is…people will assume things about her. Due to our status, the nobles all know she’s…not all there. I don't know how it is for Orcs, but the court here is…discerning.” 

She turned to Starla. 

“If my other daughter had been at all match, we would have sent her since she's a far superior candidate for Queen. Pity it didn't work out that way. In any case, I'm only thinking of your image.”

He glanced at you, signing. 

“Are you sure about keeping them alive? I’m growing tired of this nattering, aren’t you?”

You giggled again, your mother shooting you a look full of vinegar.  

“Killing them is probably not a good plan. My mother is made of tough stuff…I'm sure she’ll return as a noisy wraith and torment you about your posture,” you signed back.  

He let out a roll of laughter, crooking his finger at you. Blushing, your eyebrows rose, but you took slow steps towards him. When you were within grabbing reach, he snapped you up and settled you on his lap. He was very warm compared to the lofty, cool hall and smelled like ginger and leather. You couldn’t help but stroke the shiny black hair that fell on your side of his shoulder. You didn’t mean to be so curious, but you’d never seen an Orc up close, and he was quite the specimen. His skin was smooth and velvety to the touch. Without thinking, you poked one of his tusks with your finger. He flashed you a smile, amused at your interest, before he returned to your mother. 

“Since you are all so thoughtfully concerned with my image, it would be best to make you at home here, in the castle. You can get a taste of Orc society. You won't need any gold here. All your needs will be provided for.” 

Your mouth fell open, trying to read his thoughts, but he only smirked at you. 

“How…kind, your majesty,” your mother said, ever the diplomat. 

Starla was not happy and stomped her foot. 

“Mother! You can’t be serious! I can't be seen with these savages! Rotham will think I've been touched by beasts!” 

Your hand clapped over your mouth, never thinking clever Starla would say something so brash. 

The King’s face turned severe. His easy smile had tricked you into thinking he was a gentle giant, but his business face was terrifying. You were thankful it wasn't directed at you. 

“Rotham? Our enemy's son, leading a band of traitorous supporters? Are you saying you are harboring a fugitive and dare to show your face in my court?” 

Starla backpedaled as quickly as she could. 

“Of course not, Your Majesty, it's…it’s…another Rotham…a man from the village…a…butcher.” 

He relaxed. Which was odd to you because you knew he didn't believe her lie. 

“Good. He should be pleased he has a chance with the Queen’s sister. You can invite him to dinner if you like.” 

Starla’s face blanched, but she nodded obediently. He waved at one of the Orcs standing to the side. 

“Show them to their quarters. We will convene for a meal to welcome our new Queen shortly.” 

 When they were gone, the King turned his attention back to you.

“Would you like the chef to prepare something special for your first dinner in the castle?” 

You had no idea what to say. No one had ever asked your preference or opinion on anything. 

“We should eat what is traditional. You are welcoming me into your family, Your Majesty. I’d like to know more about your customs.”

Though he seemed satisfied with your answer, he waved a dismissive hand at you. 

“Don't call me Your Majesty. We're meant to be married. My name is Golmad.” 

He fingerspelled the letters, then showed you the sign he used for it– the gestures for gold and bear, together. You returned the sign you used for your own name. 

“May I ask a question, Golmad?” 

“Anything. I don't want you to fear me, (Y/N).”  

You organized your thoughts for a moment before you formulated your question. 

“Why do you know sign language? I can hear; you could speak if it is easier.” 

He looked you over, his expression warm. 

“I learned for you. I wanted to speak to you in your language. I knew you were for me long before you took the test– over a year ago. The test is for your human sensibilities. Your people don't rely on instinct. Demanding the test makes it something they can understand. I know by scent your sister is compatible, as well. But I don't desire her.”

Your eyebrows popped up at that admission, and your heart thumped in your chest. You never expected such care from a battle-hardened Orc king. 

“But how? I've never seen you before!” 

He smirked. 

“We Orcs are stealthier than you humans know. It's in our nature to hunt our match.” 

You frowned, a vicious thought pricking your mind. 

“Did you pick me because I'm silent?” 

His eyes narrowed, but the expression they held was not cruel. 

“You are not silent. You speak differently, but you are not a doll without thoughts. Your mother is wrong. You are the best candidate to be Queen. If I had chosen your sister, do you think she would have appeared before me as you did?” 

He patted your chest, not to fondle you, but over your heart. 

“You are a survivor, brave, and virtuous. I trust you at my side.” 

You gasped, feeling more seen than ever before, but also the weight of the responsibilities on your shoulders.

“Now, we must prepare you for Orc society.”

He tugged the big bow on your head, tossing it on the floor when he'd pulled it loose. 

“An Orc Queen will not be dressed like a puppy.”

A smile spread across his lips, and he stood, so large he could carry you with very little effort. As you passed the Orcs lining the hall, they bowed to the two of you, giving you the first taste of what it meant to be Queen. 

The bedroom he brought you to was very different from a human King’s bedroom. It had more plants than furniture, large leafy vegetation planted in a generous selection of iron pots. His bed reminded you of a nest, a wide pallet layered with thick furs in colors ranging from white to rust red to pitch black. There wasn't a spot you could stand in the room where a weapon was not in reach. Axes and swords were mounted on the walls, and iron stands on the floor. Daggers of varying sizes seemed splayed haphazardly on every horizontal surface. 

Golmad set you down and began stripping off the clothes he wore. Your cheeks burned as he revealed thick muscle after thick muscle, but you were also a bit frightened. Was he going to take you now? His eyes met yours, which had to be as large as saucers. 

“I only wore this to speak with your parents. There is wisdom in accommodating humans occasionally. They see us as monsters. Dressing like them makes them more comfortable, but now that you are mine, they will need to grow accustomed to our culture.” 

You nodded, forcing your mouth closed, and he stopped undressing when he got to his pants. The bulky planes of his chest were plenty of eye candy. You weren't sure if you were ready for the rest. 

He let out a loud call, and two Orc women appeared at the door, holding folded stacks of fur and leather.

“These are my sisters Vola and Cayenne. Don't mind their doting. Orc families are very affectionate.”

They gave you a polite bow. 

“Greetings, Your Majesty,” they signed together after they’d deposited the fabrics on a table. When Golmad stepped out of the way, they circled you with big smiles, patting your hair and pinching your cheeks as if you were a new kitten. 

“She’s so cute!” 

“I didn't believe she would be so tiny, but look at her. Precious!” 

Cayenne spun you around, examining your form. You weren’t exactly tiny in human terms, but compared to them, you were short stack. 

“We must choose something daring!” 

Vola nodded.

“Like a little wildcat!” 

You signed to Golmad, a little surprised at their sweetness. They even learned sign language for you! 

“The nobleman said the Orc women resent us and that they'll rip us to bits for stealing their men.” 

He chuckled. 

“That's nothing but propaganda. They want babies just as much as the males. A stout, fertile, submissive human husband is ideal for caring for their pups. Your people are obsessed with the purity of their women. We never had to organize a silly test for the males. The Orcesses just bop their mate on the head and drag him home.” 

He gave you a conspiratorial grin, his gold eyes glittering. 

I have a surprise for you at dinner. I think you’ll find it quite funny. 

You blinked, absorbing that fact, but decided to tuck it away for now and focus on what was happening in front of you. 

“It was kind of your sisters to learn sign language.” 

He looked slightly bashful at that comment, his green cheeks burning a bit darker. 

“Everyone is required to learn. Your staff will speak to you in your own language, not at you. Though I initially ordered it to accommodate you, we've since found tremendous value in practicing the skill.“

You didn't have time to think much more about it as the Orcesses started stripping your heavy dress off. Your cheeks burned as Golmad’s eyes roved over your bare skin, an appreciative glint in them. 

Vola wrapped a soft, asymmetrical skirt of spotted fur around your waist, and Cayenne pulled a leather crop top over your breasts. Then she secured a thick belt on top of your hips. She turned and started picking up and putting down daggers. Once she’d decided on the right one, she sheathed it in its stop at your side. 

“This one is perfect for you,” she explained—”light and sharp. You don't need might to wield a blade. Only speed and endurance.” 

She patted it. 

“We’ll help you train. Every Orc does morning training together before breakfast. We are a communal people. Training is another way to reinforce community. We hash out our disagreements on the training mat, and by the time we sit for our meal we are all on the same page. Our strength is not just our size. We win wars because our bonds are unbreakable.”

You nodded, feeling very special to be trusted with their secrets. 

They finished the outfit with fur-lined boots and a diamond necklace matching Golmad’s. Cayenne produced a makeup stick, drawing a long line across your nose from one cheek to the other and vertical lines from the center of your eyes down to your chin. 

“This is traditional for the Queen. We don’t wear crowns like your people. These markings identify your position at special events. When you are officially married, there will be tattoos and you won’t need the makeup anymore.” 

You blinked at her, wondering what your mother would say to that. An Orc appeared in the doorway, not dressed in human clothes. Instead, he wore leather pants, and was shirtless with an axe strapped to his back. 

He spoke as he signed, showing his respect for you. 

“Dinner is ready, Your Majesty.” 

You swallowed deeply as you were about to meet your future subjects, wearing less clothing than you’d ever worn in public before. Your arms and stomach were bare, as well as one leg where the skirt split. Golmad scooped you up and plopped you on his shoulder as he carried you to the dinner hall. You could hear the raucous laughter of Orcs celebrating, but when you walked through the door, all were silent and bowed in unison. 

It was difficult to find them amid the massive Orcs, but you finally spotted your family seated at the long table at the right of the King and Queen’s seats. Starla was dressed to impress in a low-cut gown emphasizing her assets, though she looked disgusted at the Orcs around her. When your mother caught sight of you, her mouth opened, and she covered it in horror as if they’d done something terrible to you. 

Golmad waved a hand, and the Orcs all took their seats at the table. As he got comfortable, arranging you on his lap, his sister Vola sat down with a familiar man on her lap. 

“Rotham?!” your sister screeched. “What the fuck are you doing here?!” 

You felt Golmad’s body shudder underneath you as he chuckled. Vola shot a glare at Starla, petting Rotham’s head. His cheeks darkened just a bit, but he snuggled against her ample breasts. 

“Don’t speak so familiarly with my mate,” Vola spat. 

Starla’s eyes looked like they might pop out of her head. 

“Rotham, how could you? We were supposed to be married! I was supposed to be Queen! How can you lay with that…monster?! What about your people? YOUR COUNTRY?” 

The table had grown silent as everyone watched the drama play out. 

“Vola is my mate,” Rotham said, looking down his nose at her. “I love her! Why would I want to sit on a throne waiting for someone pretending to be my friend to stab me in the back and fuck my wife when I can stay cozy and safe tending Vola’s hearth?” 

He shook his head as if he were knocking something unpleasant out of it. 

“Why do I have to be King, anyway?! Just because I'm a man? You know what, Starla? You've never once asked what I wanted! Do you realize that? You don't care about what I want, only that I fulfill what fantasy you have about conquering the Orcs and obtaining a sparkly trinket. You'd be happy to stand on the sidelines like a swooning maiden, spending money you haven't earned on meaningless crap, while I risk my life and limbs for a battle I don't even care about!”

Starla looked incensed, shocked, and confused by his position. 

“But she's a monster, Rotham. The enemy!”

His brow drew and jabbed a finger at her. 

“Don’t you dare call my mate a monster; she is no enemy! It’s cruel and disrespectful. Vola loves me for me! She likes my cooking! She kisses me when I get hurt! She listens to my fears and helps me accomplish my goals! My goals! Not a bunch of spoiled noble's goals. 

I'm warning you, don't provoke her. I don’t love you, but I don’t want to see you harmed, either.” 

His smile met Vola’s before his eyes dipped to her body, looking quite pleased with his wife. 

Starla stood up, knocking over her chair as her sense dissolved with her dream of becoming Queen. The real Starla came out, the snotty girl who used to throw tantrums when she didn’t get a toy she wanted at the Goddesses’ Supper.

“Kissing your boo-boos like a sniveling child? Chasing frivolous goals? What the fuck are you talking about? You are royalty! You have a responsibility to the country! To me! What could possibly be more appealing than being the King?” 

Rotham huffed. 

“I want to be a baker! That's all I ever wanted to do, and because I was born my father's child, I never even had the option to try. My parents planned out my life, then advisors, then generals, and even you. I could never do what I wanted. I was scolded if I ever went near the kitchen, even to bake in my spare time! It was hell!” 

Starla snorted. 

“A baker?! That's work for common folk! It's beneath you! You’re throwing away the crown to bake cookies?! That’s pathetic! Stop this nonsense right now!” 

Vola growled. 

“Do not speak to my mate that way. Rotham deserves to be as free as any of us. He's an excellent baker. You're just sour he's not putting himself in harm's way to elevate your status!” 

Starla's eyes narrowed on Vola.

“How dare you think, you, a filthy beast, are worthy of a Prince?! MY PRINCE?! You’re nothing but an ugly ogre!” 

You felt the tension rise as every Orc leaned in, watching what would happen next. Vola gave her a cool smile. 

“Do you mean to challenge me for my mate, little girl?” 

“He’s not your mate! He’s mine! MINE!” 

Golmad held up a hand. 

“The human has declared an official challenge for Vola’s mate. Take her to the ring.” 

Starla screamed as an Orc picked her up and awkwardly carried her out of the room. Everyone else at the table followed, including your parents, whispering between each other.

The battle ring was a simple dirt circle with thick ropes marking its outline. By the time you and Golmad arrived, Starla had been placed in the center, and someone had armed her with a thin rapier, probably the only weapon in the arsenal against the wall she could lift. 

You could see the terror on her face when Vola set Rotham down next to you and entered the ring, cracking her knuckles. 

“Wait! Wait! This is madness!” Starla screamed, realizing there was no chance she would win this fight. 

Golmad waved her screams away. 

“In our tradition, a mate challenge is binding. You should not have spoken so carelessly if you did not want to fight. You must follow through. Prepare yourself! Begin!” 

Your heart raced, wondering if you should do something to save your sister. Golmad caught your worried expression and signed to you with a small smile. 

“She won’t kill her. Death’s not necessary to teach her a lesson.” 

You let out a breath of relief, leaning into Golmad’s warm body. The two competitors circled one another…rather, Vola circled Starla, and Starla looked for an exit. The Orcs packed tightly around the ring, and there was no gap to escape. When she realized there was no way out, she raised her weapon with two hands as best as possible. 

“Stay back, beast! I’ll cut you!” 

Vola laughed, darting forward so fast she was only a green blur. You heard a crack, and Starla smacked the dirt, blood spraying across her pretty dress. Mercifully, Vola didn’t knock her out. Starla’s whining voice drifted up from the ground. 

“My nose! She broke my fucking nose!” 

Vola snatched her weapon up and pointed the blade at her throat. 

“Do you concede?” 

Starla’s eyes got big. She focused on the tip of the rapier and nodded. 

To make her point, Vola adjusted her grip and stabbed the sword into the ground next to Starla’s head. A clump of her hair fluttered to the ground beside her. 

Leaning in so close to her that their noses almost touched, Vola pinned her with an icy glare. 

“The next time you raise your voice to my mate, I will not miss, little girl.” 

Golmad lifted a hand, ending the fight. 

“Vola has defended her claim! To dinner!” 

The Orcs cheered, but Rotham cheered the loudest. When she returned to him, he squeezed her biceps, looking up at her with stars in his eyes. 

“You're so strong! You were fast, too, like a beautiful bolt of lightning!”

“Rotham, please…” Starla whimpered from the dirt, hoping to get sympathy from him. 

He only frowned and turned away. Vola scooped him up, swinging him around while she kissed him. 

“I'll always protect you and your honor, my darling,” she said. “To my dying breath.” 

They and the other Orcs piled out of the room, leaving your parents to help Starla with her bloody nose. As Golmad carried you out, you heard them speaking to her as your mother helped her to her feet. 

“Don’t be difficult, Starla. We need to return to the table. Buck up.” 

“Are you insane? My nose is broken, and I’m covered in blood! I’m not going back there!” 

For once, you heard your father sound stern. 

“You got yourself into this foolishness, Starla. If Rotham is not leading a rebellion, we must find favor with our new King. We cannot be absent from (Y/N)’s dinner. It would be disrespectful, and we don't have the money to live up to the standards we're used to without her grace! Living here is our best option. I’m not going to be tossed on the street to defend your ego.” 

When Golmad set you on his lap at the head of the table, Starla sulkily took her place beside your mother, a napkin on her nose to slow the bleeding. When she did look up from her plate, it was to glare across the table at Vola and Rotham, caught up in their own banter between lovers. 

Golmad cleared his throat to call everyone to attention, and the noise quickly quieted. 

He signed as he spoke, so everyone could understand. 

“We come together for this meal to welcome my lovely Queen (Y/N) to our fold!” 

He glanced down at your parents, his face a bit smug. 

“Family and community are a core value of our kind. I also welcome (Y/N)’s parents and sister to our castle. Please do your best to help them grow accustomed to our traditions.

This night marks a step forward in the blending of human and Orc society, and as I have found my match, I wish you all your own mates so that, from the wounds of war, another generation of both our peoples can flourish! Let’s enjoy the bounty of this land together!” 

That was the end of the speech, as Orcs carried out massive dishes of roasted meat, vegetables, and golden-crusted pies and arranged them on the table. 

Happy Orcs were loud and raucous, apparently enjoying giving toasts. Everyone guzzled ale as they tipped their glasses to speeches of triumphs in war, hunting their new mates, and lots of well wishes to your future children. 

Numerous Orcs lined up to kiss your hand and declare their devotion to your protection. Meanwhile, your parents focused their energy on courting Golmad’s favor, complimenting the food, the music, and whatever else they could think of that might endear them to him. Your mother even gave you a tight compliment on your skirt. 

While you tried to focus on greeting your subjects, your mind wandered to the warm body underneath you. Golmad’s firm, barrel chest brushed your arm with every deep breath. The bulging muscles of his thigh were like sitting on a stone chair covered in bulky leather, but those features aside, your absolute favorite part of his physique was his husky stomach. It was firm and toned from daily training but thick from eating well. Leaning into it was quite comfortable and cozy. 

Everything about him was so big, including the enormous shaft, you could feel at your back. Maybe it was the wine, but your initial fear of it had slowly changed to curious interest as the night progressed. What would it be like? How would it feel inside of you? What would it taste like? The lewd thoughts were incredibly distracting. You found yourself wiggling your bottom to brush it without thinking. Every time you did, you felt a low rumble in his chest no one else could hear above the merrymaking. 

“Are you enjoying yourself?” He asked when there was finally a break in the production, and you could speak. 

You nodded and gave him a wan smile. 

“Your court is delightful. It's just…

When you paused his focus on you became intense. 

What's wrong? You can tell me, I won't be offended.”

You looked over the celebration, considering how your day played out compared to what you expected. 

“A lot has happened today…between the meeting and the fight…I'm a little tired, to be honest. I want to keep up with your people…but…” 

His gold eyes gleamed with predatory interest, making heat swell in your core. 

“I have a remedy for that. Orc celebrations take a bit of time to get used to. They'll all be up till dawn.” 

He stood before you could ask anything more, willing the Orcs to quiet down. 

“My Queen and I will retire for the evening! Enjoy the food and drink. Show our guests how Orcs celebrate!” 

A happy cry rang out, and the party started again as Golmad carried you out of the room. Your heartbeat thumped in your chest, realizing this was the first time the two of you would be alone for any length of time. He was so large he could do anything to you, and that thought had become far more exciting than frightening.  

When you arrived at his bedroom, he gently set you down on a table and turned his attention to starting a fire in the fireplace to warm the cool room. 

You swung your legs over the edge of the tall table, watching the muscles in his back flex as he loaded the hearth with logs. When he turned, he pulled off his boots and tucked them in a corner.  Finally, he approached you, his footsteps silent for someone so large. His eyes moved over your body as if deciding what part to engage first. 

“Do you think a back rub would help you relax? It’s been an eventful day.” 

You nodded, your heart skipping at the thought of his big hands on you. He tugged your boots off and set them next to his before settling the two of you on his bed, with you on his lap. 

You let out a long moan as his thick fingers pressed gently into the tense knots in your shoulder. His breath fanned across the nape of your neck, causing a pleasurable shiver to snake up your spine. Since his hands were busy, he spoked to you, his head dipping close to your ear. 

“I didn’t have a moment to tell you how beautiful you looked, today. In your human clothes, but especially so in ours.” 

You hummed a thank you, a sizzling tingle vibrating in your ear. As his thumbs slid down the curve of your waist, you realized he could circle both hands around your middle. His thumbs worked the knots away, but his other fingers smoothed over your bare skin. 

He seemed to get distracted by your arms, shifting his attention to one. He measured the diameter of your wrist with his thumb and forefinger. 

“You are delicate. I feel fortunate to have someone so sweet to protect and love.” 

At the word love, your cheeks burned, and you let out a quick mewl. You heard him chuckle behind you. He spun you around to face him, putting his hand lightly around your neck. Your breath came short, and your eyes widened at him, not sure what he was doing. 

“You are a precious blessing. I’ll never hurt you, (Y/N). If something hurts, pinch me, and I’ll know to stop, okay?” 

You nodded, relaxing just slightly. With his other hand, he tipped your head to the side, and the fingers around your neck massaged the muscles that had gotten tight from gritting your teeth. Your eyelashes fluttered as all of the tension slipped away. When you opened them again, Golmad’s eyes met yours, flickering as if they were lit from within and drawing you forward. 

He loosened his grip on your neck, and you pushed yourself up on your knees, pressing your small hands into his chest as you leaned up to him. 

For a moment, he looked surprised, but his eyes tracked yours as you looked over his features, pulled to his nicely shaped lips. He seemed to have no intention to push you to be intimate with him, but he was to be your husband. You were curious about him. You sucked in a quick breath before you tipped your head forward and brushed your lips against his. That’s what a wife was supposed to do, no? 

He let out a deep, rumbling grumble you felt between your legs. His big hand swept you up by the small of your back, while the other cradled your face. The next time your lips came together was a hungry, needy kiss. Your hand wrapped around his tusk, sliding over the smooth surface as you explored with your lips. 

You’d never kissed before, so you weren’t entirely sure what to do beyond the first taste. Pulling back you looked at him through the veil of your lashes, cheeks burning and lips swollen. 

“Was that good?” You asked. 

His eyebrows rose slightly, and he gave you a gentle nod. 

“Is this your first time kissing?” 

You looked away, embarrassed at your inexperience, but a thick finger pushed your chin back in his direction. 

“I didn’t mean it as an insult. I assumed the “untouched” bit of your mother’s introduction was a production. I mean…look at you. You’re gorgeous.”

You frowned, and he looked contrite. 

“I didn’t mean…to question your purity…I only meant-”

He huffed, and you were surprised to see a confident Orc King flustered by you. When his gaze met yours, it was open and vulnerable. 

“You’re so much smaller than me. I don’t want to scare you.” 

You searched his face for a moment. 

“You don’t scare me. I want to please you. Will you show me how?” 

His cheeks darkened to a rich forest, and his mouth fell open. You watched his pupils widen, and he nodded, eyes drifting over your body. You pushed yourself up on your knees, kissing him again, hoping to encourage whatever might come next. He groaned, thick hands wrapping around your waist. 

Feeling bolder, you let your hands move over his bare shoulders and gently trace every plane of his chest. He shuddered when your fingers slipped over a nipple, so you tried it again, earning you another rich groan. His tongue slipped past your lips, tasting you for the first time, and he hummed into your mouth.  

Beneath you, the shaft you’d already thought felt large suddenly got much firmer and larger. Curious, you gingerly let your fingers slip down his chest, palming him through his pants. A deep rumble vibrated his chest, and you mewled as he suddenly flipped you under him. You looked up at his massive body looming over you, panting. 

His eyes ate up your skin, glowing with appreciation. A fingertip traced your collarbone down the V of the little crop top you wore. It took only a flick of his fingers to rip it in half. You gasped, chest heaving. He met your gaze, searching for any indication you didn’t want him to go on. 

“Are you okay?” 

You nodded quickly, your nipples pebbling now exposed to the air. He smirked, dipping his head to press a kiss into the top of one breast and then the other before he moved lower. Pleasure you weren’t used to was intoxicating as he licked and sucked your nipples. Your breaths were heaving, and your thoughts scrambled. 

Though thick, his fingers were nimble, unbuckling the belt at your waist and stripping the skirt off you. 

Instinctively, you looked away, never having been so exposed in your life. A grunt brought your eyes back to him, and Galmod squeezed your cheek before he spoke. 

“It’s my job to please you. May I?”

Your nod was far more enthusiastic than you intended, and he grinned. A thumb teased a nipple, while his thick tongue traced your slit. A breathy mewl slipped out, and he glanced up without pulling away. His gaze was intent. Every hunting instinct he possessed focused on making sure you were enjoying what he had to give you. His tongue dipped inside of you the first time anything or anyone had touched you there. Your back arched, and your eyelashes fluttered. Your hand instinctively clutched his hair, your hips bucking into his mouth as wetness flooded your channel. 

He chuckled, the added sensation making you whimper. Though your flavor was appealing, Golmad had a second reason for filling you with his tongue. He also stretched you, preparing you to take something much larger. When you were eagerly rocking your hips to create more friction, he slipped out of you, turning his attention to your clit. Your irises crossed, your first real orgasm exploding between your legs and shooting through every nerve in your body. You were practically drooling as he slipped two fingers inside, bringing you right back where you started, needy and wanting. 

He stopped for a moment, cupping your chin to get your attention. 

“Do you want more?” 

Your fingers were shaking as you responded. 

“Yes…please?” 

He chuckled, leaning down and kissing you deeply before he rocked back on his knees. 

“It will hurt for just a second, then it will feel good…but if you want me to stop, just pinch me. I’ll stop.” 

You nodded quickly, wiggling your hips to entice him. You wanted whatever he planned on next. His gaze was ravenous, and you could tell staying in control of his instincts was work, but you trusted him, which made no sense since you'd only met. Something about him made you feel safe and protected, maybe the way he seemed so worried about hurting you. 

Your eyes popped as he slipped out of his pants. A thick cock bobbed in front of him. You’d never seen something so viscerally sexy, his bulky green body hovering over you, a thick hand fisting a massive shaft. A zip of sheer excitement made you quake. You felt a little mad. His cock had to be too big for you, but you wanted more than anything to take it. A fresh wave of slick leaked from inside of your spasming cunt. 

Your legs looked tiny in his hands as he spread them. He rubbed the large, round head of his cock against your slit, watching you whimper and beg for him with your eyes. 

Entering you maddeningly slow, you felt your pussy stretch to accommodate him. It felt good, the strain feeling more decadent than painful. There was no way you could fit his entire length inside, but he didn't seem concerned, gripping the base for more control. His fingers circled your clit, and you hardly felt a slight pinch through a veil of pleasure. Your eyes rolled back in your head as he filled you completely. 

When your gazes met, you could see the concentration on his face, his brow drawn, and his jaw locked. You nodded to him, asking him to go on, telling him that you wanted it. 

Pulling back, his hips snapped forward pushing a high-pitched mewl past your lips. He watched you, looking for any pain, but whatever he saw just egged him on. The concerned expression melted to a smug smirk, and he picked up the pace, heavy thrusts jerking your body against the soft furs. 

His long fingers wrapped around your neck, holding you in place while his strokes grew more intense. 

“That’s it, you can take it,” he groaned, his husky voice tickling your ears. 

You were amazed at your own body, your slippery fluids coating his shaft and allowing him to grind in and out of you despite his size. Though you could feel the strength in his hands, he only applied light pressure to your throat, making your heart skip. He could crush you easily, yet despite the rapture in his eyes, he held you like a baby dove.  

The tension in your thighs relaxed, your legs opening for him far wider than you even knew they could to accommodate his big body. 

The room filled with the sound of your sweet mewls and his guttural grunts. 

“So good,” he drawled, words slurring. “You were made for me.” 

You wanted to sign, “you, as well,” but your brain was mush. 

His cock battered you in just the right spot, while his free hand never left your clit, pinching and circling it until your eyes crossed and you were drooling. You soared, high on his musky scent, your body sparkling in ways you’d never felt before. Pleasure licked the tips of your nerves, zipping up and down your spine like lightning bolts. The only thing you could do was hold on tight to the hand circling your throat, your nails digging into the sinewy flesh. 

Your mother had made it seem like sex was a chore a wife did to please her husband and keep him from messing around. You had no idea it could be like this. Golmmad’s gold eyse lit as your wet cunt spasmed around him. A wet rush of bliss washed over you like the tide tugging you under. Your scream pierced the heady air as you reached your peak, spongey walls sucking him deeper. 

It was one thing to cum underneath him, but the look on his face as your body clamped around him, wet slick coating his cock, was sheer euphoria. His mouth fell open, eyes fluttering shut as he roared his finale. Making a large, powerful Orc king fall apart made you feel powerful and desirable in a way you’d never been allowed to feel before. It was a high that couldn’t be matched. You wanted to do this again and again until neither of you could walk or think. 

You felt his shaft grow impossibly harder, twitching inside you as he emptied himself into you in searing ropes. The ragged, stiff thrusts to seek his pleasure pulled another lingering orgasm from your pussy. You felt tears slipping down your cheeks as he slammed his hips into yours one last time. 

For a moment, the two of you just panted together, his head dipping down just an inch or so above yours. You felt a thick thumb trace your cheek, wiping your tears away. 

“I-I didn’t hurt you?” he whispered, and you forced your eyes open so he wouldn’t panic. 

A small smile and a slight jerk of your head told him no, you were just fine. He peeled himself off of you, sinking down into his bed and pulling you onto his lap. His fingers played lazily in your hair as he caught his breath. 

“What do you think?” he asked, his tone raw and vulnerable. 

You propped your head on one fist, elbows resting on his chest, while you wound a lock of dark hair around a finger, thinking of how to answer him. You felt his breath halt, waiting eagerly for your answer. Finally, you pulled your legs under you, sitting cross-legged on top of him so you could use your hands. 

“Can we do that again in the morning?” 

His eyebrows jumped before his lips stretched into a broad smile, responding with his free hands. 

“Of course, as many times as you like.”

You grinned and yawned, plastering your body on top of his. His warmth sunk into your bones, and sleep came easily. The last thing you felt before you dozed off was his hand stroking your hair as he muttered thanks to the goddess for bringing you to him. 

[fandomxo00]

Ok but imagine this: having four kids with logan au

Overhearing Logan helping your son when he's struggling

note: I think this will be a continuous imagine with just little situations with the family it will have the 'having four kids with logan au' tag

Theo, was your oldest son, he was now 15, he looked a lot like Logan, though he had your eyes and you couldn't believe that your baby not your baby anymore. He'd been extra emotional lately, taking his anger out on you, Logan, and his younger siblings.

Logan knew he had to prepare for this if he had children, his anger issues would most likely pass on. But he also knew that the anger was misdirected, that there was something wrong and he was asking for help. So, when Theo marched into the house, throwing his bag down, heading downstairs to his room and slamming the door shut. His younger brother, Parker, sighed looking over at his brother before going into a kitchen for his afternoon snack. You went after him, going down and knocking on his door.

"Leave me alone!"

"Baby-." You tried.

"I don't want to talk to you." Theo spat.

"Well I'm here if you do, alright?" You didn't hear anything from the other side, your heart breaking a bit as you turned to see your youngest, Sophie, she was three and she moved over to you. She had the biggest heart, and she was really close with Theo.

"Is Teo sad?" She asked, pointing at the door from the top of the stairs.

"He just needs some alone time, baby."

You brought Sophie to the living room, setting her up at her dollhouse and a snack, she knew to keep her snack at the top of her doll house so your dog, Charlie, wouldn't be able to reach it.

Your middle child, Valley, would be getting picked up by Logan on his way home from work. She always stayed after school to spend time with her friends, or going home to play with them. Some days you picked her up to bring her friend's home or if she had low energy. But she was the most social child, but you also understood her on a different level as she struggled with social cues or 'saying the right thing'. She found her group though; she always did and you'd always be there to guide her through it. Hopefully she can do the same for Sophie, though you would always be there for her too.

She rushed through the door and Logan stepped in after her, taking off his boots before following behind her. "Hey baby." He grinned, coming over to and wrapping an arm around you to pull you and kiss your lips.

"Hey, can you go check on Theo?" You pressed, your eyes scanning his, he understood the look in your eyes, leaning in to kiss your cheek. He goes over to Sophie, before crouching as she talked him about the doll in her hand, he kisses her head before standing up. As he started towards Theo's room, Parker skidded in front of his dad and started going on about soccer practice tonight. Logan volunteered to coach for his team.

"Hey, bud, we can talk about this on the way to soccer alright?" Logan started as Parker went on to talk, a look of defeat came over your son's face. Then Logan clapped him on the shoulder and looked down into his eyes, "Maybe we'll practice your drill, tonight."

"Really?" Parker's eyes lit up, as he smiled over at his dad. Your chest ached a bit as you knew Logan never wanted any of his kids to feel left out or less loved than another. You knew you had the same worry, it's the reason why you decide four kids rather than five. Logan didn't want more than three and Sophie was a very wanted oops. It just seemed like the missing piece of the puzzle. So even though your fantasies were filled with more children, now you couldn't imagine having any more.

Parker came into the living room, getting his video games set up as he rested on the couch. You went downstairs to start on laundry and also overhear little parts of the conversation Logan and Theo were having. You knew that Logan would fill you in later but your worry sadly outweighed privacy. It wasn't something you were proud of, and you were working on it.

"Theo, you're our baby, you are the one who truly started this family, I love you with all of my heart, you are strong, and you're going to live a happy long life. You kids are everything to me and your mom, something I'll never know how to truly express. I know you don't wanna upset mom but she'd understand what your going through."

"I-I just don't know why I feel this way." Theo cried.

"Your mom and I have always struggled with mental illness, and we aren't here for a lack of trying. All you have to do is try, alright?"

"Okay."

"How about we go for a walk in the morning?"

"That sounds good." Theo murmured, before their voices faded, as you started the dryer before grabbing a laundry basket and walking up the stairs just as Theo's door opened and Logan walked out. As you turned your head, his eyebrow quirked up as a small smile came over his face as he shook his head. He definitely knew you were eavesdropping.

"I'll look up some therapists, tonight." You said, softly as Logan got to the top of the stairs as you leant down to put the basket on the floor. His arms wrapped around you, and he pulled you tightly, his head in the dip of your neck.

"Are you upset?" He asked, his voice calm and soft.

"No, I'm just glad he opened up to you." You breathed, rubbing at his forearm as he started swaying the two of you back and forth.

"Mom! Sharlie got my crackers!" Sophie yelped from the living room, as Logan chuckled as you sighed, he kissed your cheek before letting you go. As you started towards the living room, you turned to see Logan grab the laundry basket before heading towards your room down the hall.

"Coming baby!"

[baby-tini]

Bully Dabi🥵 he messes with you your whole life ever since you moved in the neighborhood. He makes sure you don't have any meaningful connections with friends from school so no one bothers you. It wasn't till University that it got kicked up a notch. He wasn't shoving into you or saying mean things anymore it was more sexual now. He grabs you around the corner of a classroom and makes you grind on him. While doing that he says the nastiest things in your ear. 'You always wanted this' 'wanted to ruin you for so long' 'wait till you see my cock you'll drool over it like the little cock slut you are' 'my cock slut' 'can't wait to see this tummy buldge from my cock'

TW- NONCON, victim blaming, sexual assault, bullying, verbal and physical abuse You had moved into the neighborhood when you were about eight years old, your dad had gotten a new job that payed way better then his old one. Being an only child, you never really had people to play with so, when your dad told you that there was a family across the street with kids your age, you were ecstatic. The kids were really nice to you, well, except the oldest, Touya or as all his friends called him, Dabi. He was always so mean to you. Tripping you, pulling your hair, spilling juice on your pretty clothes, you never liked Touya, he never gave you a reason too. So, you did your best to avoid him, you only came over to play with Fuyumi anyway, so, you would just be in her room playing dolls and having fun, until you had to go home. Now the bullying wasn't too bad as kids, it was more like an inconvenience for you. But in high school? That's when it started to get worse, the tripping turned into Dabi- as he now forced you to call him- pushing you into lockers and laughing when he sees the bruises on your shoulders and thighs. The hair pulling turned into him yanking you up by your hair as he called you mean names. You wanted to tell someone, you truly did but all the girls loved Dabi, that was apparent when he had a new one hanging off him everyday. Plus you didn't want your parents to move you to a different school, you had a lot of friends here. You especially didn't want to tell Fuyumi, knowing she'd tell everyone, it would be in good faith coming from her but, she really couldn't keep a secret to save her life.

Dabi being older then you by a couple years means he graduated and went to college first, giving you two years of peace, you didn't have to look over your shoulder or wear jackets all the time in order to cover the bruises he inflicted. You could have fun and joke around with friends without him staring you down from across the hall. It was the best two years of school you've had in your life, plus, Dabi moved into a dorm on campus with his friends Keigo and Tomura. So, you rarely saw Dabi around the neighborhood, except when he came home occasionally on weekends. But even then, you'd rather five- rarely seven- days of peace then none at all. It also meant you could talk to guys without Dabi threatening them or in most cases, beating them black and blue. It's the worst in college though, the years of peace in high school gone all too quickly as you start uni. Although, you don't have any classes with Dabi, so you rarely see him. After classes is a different story though, he's trailing after you, holding you hostage in empty classroom and calling you mean names as his bullying gets bolder.. more.. sexual. He's pinning you against the wall now, leaving hickeys and bruises on your neck, shoving his tongue in your mouth and probably the worst is when he pushes you on top of the desk to spread your legs and hump your cunt over your clothes. Then there was the time that Dabi had dragged you you into an empty classroom, calling you a slut because your skirt was too short for his liking as he laid you on the empty teacher desk and proceeded to pull your skirt up and take his cock out. He had you lay there as he rubbed the head of his dick over your clit, through your panties, making you beg for him to play with your pussy. "Feels good, doesn't it slut?" Forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist, he grinds into your cunt. Slapping your hands away when you try to hide your face and laughing when you start to cry. Pumping his cock a couple times, he runs it over your panties, making sure his tip catches your clit. Trying to look away from him doesn't work 'cause he'll just pull your upper body off the desk and make you watch him fuck your clit, his slit leaking beads of pre-cum, wetting the sensitive nub, his piercing catching on it so nicely. He'll switch from that, to pulling your underwear to the side so that he can slap at the little bundle of nerves and rolling it with his pointer and thumb.

"I don't know why you're covering your face, you were asking for it, wearing all the slutty clothes that you do." Dabi says the meanest things when he has you like this, he's never been soft while he touches you. Always bending you over the railing in the stairwell so that he can lift your skirt to rub your pussy with two fingers then he'll pull your thong tightly against your pussy, so that your lips peak out and he can grind against you. Or when you're leaving the building he'll pull you with him behind the school so that he can give 'daily hole checks,' as he calls them. He says he does them to make sure you're not whoring yourself out, seeing how tight you are by making you suck on his fingers so he can push them inside you. "Bend over bitch, I won't ask again, gotta make sure this pussy is just how I left it." If you're too slow doing as he asks, he'll push against the wall and pulling your ass towards him. From there, he'll pull your panties down, letting them drop to your ankles as he spreads your pussy open and literally stares at your pussy for minutes, pulling lips apart and pushing tip of his thumb inside, spitting on your clit and using his palm to spread it all over your cunt, getting spit on your thighs as he does so. If he deems that your pussy isn't how he left, whether his cum is no longer in you or you feel "looser" then he'll punish you. He makes you hold up your skirt from behind with your face squished against the dirty brick wall as he slaps your ass, hitting you so hard your eyes burn from the salty tears running down your cheeks. Telling you mean things as he carries out his brutal assault on your ass. "Don't start crying now bitch, if you weren't such a slut, I wouldn't have to hit you." or, "Did you really wipe my cum out of you? You ungrateful little whore." and, "Move away from me again and see what happens, I'll hit a lot fucking harder, try me." and of course, "You really think anyone'll believe you? Those bitches you hang out with would kill to be in your position, would beg to have my cock stretching them so full it bulges from their fucking stomach.

[chrissdollie]

Dad Bakugo x mom reader - I need more children in my life 😭✋🏾

def calls his kid "squirt" and "buddy"

in mY universe, he has a boy and a girl bc he needs the best of both worlds

CALLS YOU "MA" GOODNIGHT

we all know he wakes up really early, earlier than you even, so he's the one to check on the babies/kids every morning to see if they're ok :)

definitely keeps schedules of you and your kids days like exams, report cards, if they're going to a friend's house, etc

yk how most kids tend to be like "ewwww" whenever their parents kiss?? not ur kids nono. first of all, your son is the quieter one. not that he's not talkative, he just has a little bit of a hard time expressing himself. anyhow, his sister is very loud. but either way, they both think its sweet. your daughter even said something like "i hope my husband kisses me like that" once (when she was an older kid tho lol)

your son goes to talk to you a lot. he adores you so so much. but one day when he wanted to hang out with you, you weren't home. you were busy running errands while katsuki was at home watching tv. your son started crying and katsuki was like wtf?? eventually, your son grew accustomed to speaking to katsuki. as he got older, he actually talked to him more than you.

teaches your son how to be a man :,) katsuki knew he was bitchy in his younger years and he didn't want either of his kids to be like him. he taught them both manners and how to properly have a conversation.

little pitter patter of their feet ran into your guys' shared bedroom on christmas morning and began jumping your bed. katsuki groaned and rubbed his eyes aggressively. "it's christmas, mommy!" your little boy shouted. "wake up daddy!!" your daughter shouted in his ear. "alright alright you rugrats"

at your daughter's kindergarten graduation (idk if everyone had this but i did lmao), katsuki was tearing up and although he tried to hide it, he had to remain the strong one while comforting you while you bawled your eyes out.

p.s your daughter is the oldest

when she brought home her first boyfriend... ooo chile

i see a lot of people writing how katsuki would act up but tbh in his older years, i think he'd be a lot more mature. he'd greet the dude politely and treat him like he would any of her friends

btw lemme just say: your daughter is a mommy AND daddy's girl. she loves u both insanely

honestly while eating dinner with the boyfriend or something, katsuki would be very blunt and not pay too much mind to him LMAOO he'd be like "'tis is great, doll" as if you don't cook dinner every week and it's only when your daughter brings up how he wants to work at katsuki's angency, where he perks up

"oh shit, no kiddin'?" and you smack his arm lightly.

well this changes everything! he practically gave the kid his blessing. "welcome to the family son"

your son doesn't really care about them together, he just doesn't wanna see his big sis get hurt. lets say that your son is 15 and your daughter is 17. "so, bf/n. have you fucked her?"

you almost spit out your drink like a cartoon. your daughter is shook, katsuki's rage from UA is all coming back to him, and the boyf is scared for his life

you, katsuki, and your daughter have a little talk after dinner

"use condoms" kats stated. "i- WH- nono you can have sex next year." you corrected but ur daughter is like huh?? "wha why next year?" you scoff. "because you'll be a legal adult thats why." "no offense, momma, but that's really dumb. when did you and dad start having sex?" she folded her arms. katsuki shrugged. "like i said, use condoms."

you and your daughter gossip like crazy alr?? ur like the gilmore girls except you're married and didn't get pregnant at 16 (almost)

and this is nothing new to katsuki, he's heard u guys gossip trillions of times. but when he found out you guys talked abouy HIM TOO??

he busts into the room. your daughter squeals and runs behind you. "hi honeyy-" he shushes you, "you guys talkin' shit 'bout me?" "nope" you guys say in unison. "there's this other guy, uh.."

[gguk-n]

Chapter 1- Chance Encounter

Accelerating Emotions (Oscar Piastri x Reader)

Series Masterlist

Summary- The Y/L/N moved to Melbourne. Oscar made a new friend. He got into karting and racing but his friend's sister still makes it difficult to breath sometimes. He had thought he would be over her by now, seems like he was wrong.

The reader has 2 brothers who I'm naming Ansel and Aldric and the reader is Y/N

The Y/L/N family moved to Melbourne, Australia in 2003 with their 2 kids, Y/N and Ansel, in search for a better future and a place to raise their kids. The sub-burbs of Melbourne served as a calm and healthy environment for the 2 kids with the addition of their youngest Aldric only 2 years later. The 3 kids were a handful but the Y/L/N wouldn't have it any other way.

Ansel, their oldest boy used to cry a lot when he would have to go to pre-school and the teachers would have to call his parents since it was getting difficult to manage the little boy until he met a boy who loved cars as much as he did. The calls from pre-school stopped suddenly alerting the parents who ended up finding out that Ansel had befriended a boy named Oscar and they were attached to the hip. The two boys started having play dates together at Oscar's place since Ansel's parents were too busy to host the boys and Oscar's mum, Nicole didn't mind having another kid around once in a while. Ansel would talk animatedly when describing his day which he never did before, eliciting a smile from his parents. Oscar loved his friend as well.

Ansel was 4 when he insisted on having Oscar over to show his car collection which had slowly been fluctuating and from what Mrs Y/L/N gathered from Mrs Piastri, the 2 boys had been exchanging cars with each other. So, one beautiful summer morning, Oscar was walking behind Ansel to his house with Mrs Y/L/N behind them with her year old son, Aldric in arms. The boys ended up playing around in the backyard after lunch and wouldn't come in until Oscar heard a shrill voice scream at Ansel to come in and have some fruits. The voice belonged to Ansel's older sister. She walked back in, "hmph, I hate her, she's so annoying" Ansel told Oscar. "It's a good thing your sisters are smaller than you, she only screams at me" Ansel whined as they walked inside.

Oscar was asked to sit on the sofa while Y/N brought out 2 fruit plates for the both of them. She handed the plate to Oscar and raised her hand forwards, "My name is Y/N" she said. Oscar shook her hand; "My name is Oscar" he said. "You're cute, not like my annoying brothers" she said while sticking her tongue out to her brother and ruffling Oscar's hair. Oscar hated when people touched his hair, "Don't touch my hair" he called out. "Sorry" she giggled while running away.

Oscar didn't know then but he knew now that he had the biggest crush on her. Y/N became a huge part of his life since his friendship with Ansel blossomed. His mother would invite both of Ansel's siblings to parties and soon enough just to hang out. Oscar liked hanging out with Y/N more than his sisters. She was cooler and older and they got to do whatever they wanted if his mom thought Y/N was watching over them. So, Oscar would initially invite her over so they could get away with whatever they wanted and he won't have to look over his sisters. Oscar's little sisters loved Y/N too since they had someone to play dolls and tea party and dress up with. Oscar, Ansel and Aldric were a team and Y/N and Oscar's little sisters were a team. You would find the 7 children playing in the backyard of the Piastri's or Y/L/N on evenings after school.

Oscar had started karting quite young and the 6 kids would be his biggest cheerleaders, their cheers could be heard whenever Oscar crossed the finish line whether he finished first or last. Oscar would shoot a smile at them whenever he would get out of his kart.

You could hear the 3 boys racing their remote control cars in the backyard. If anyone asked Oscar how he got so good at remote car racing; he would always site his friend and say that he helped him get better. Ansel would help Oscar in karting too; you would find the two boys tinkering and bickering about strategies. Oscar would also tell people that his friend helped him in karting but really Oscar had a talent for it and his friend enjoyed tinkering with the kart with Oscar's dad, making sure everything was in order and ready for Oscar to race. Oscar knew his friend wouldn't get into racing but he would probably make it to the world of racing since he loved cars and loved watching Oscar win with the kart he helped 'fix'.

As Oscar grew older, he realised that he had a bit of a crush on his friend's older sister. He would find himself looking for her whenever he visited their house or looking for her when his friend visited. It would always dampen his mood when he couldn't find her. But nothing dampened his mood like the time he found Y/N kissing a boy in her room back when he was 12. She was 13, Oscar didn't know she got herself a boyfriend, he didn't know that a boy over either. So, what a surprise, when he opened the door and saw her kissing a boy, I mean kissing as far as 13 year olds know how to. Oscar slammed the door shut and shouted an apology while running away. He spent the next few days thinking about the weird feeling he had when he saw that. And a few google searches later; he had a crush ON HIS BEST FRIEND'S SISTER. Oh, he was fucked. He saw her often enough that it might make it awkward. But Oscar was an actor; a trait he didn't know he possessed or so he thought.

Oscar's karting career was taking off; having had started to race professionally and even starting to finish on podiums at the end of championships. Ansel would be there to support his friend as often as he could. Oscar was thankful for everyone coming.

Sometimes, Oscar would come home to find Y/N with his mum helping her around the house. His sisters loved Y/N and would always prefer her over him; honestly he would also prefer her, he thought as he saw her cut up fruits for the kids. "Why are you always handing me fruit whenever I see you?" Oscar asked. "Because, you're small and this will help you as you grow older" she replied. "I'm not small, I'm 13" Oscar huffed. "Well, I'm 14 and I'm older than you. So, that means you'll always be younger than me" she snickered. "Now eat your fruits, kid" she commanded and left. Oscar hated this, he hated that she saw him as a kid.

Oscar should've learnt from his past mistakes but he never learns and caught Y/N with her next boyfriend and this time in a rather compromising position. Y/N didn't learn from her previous mistakes either, she should've locked the door. She knew that; Oscar and his sisters were over. She knew yet she was reckless but in her defence, she hadn't seen her boyfriend in a few days and the both of them were hormonal teenager and it slipped her mind. Now, she was sat on her boyfriend who was lying down with her top and bra off. Oscar wasn't sure if he wanted that imagine erased from his memory or imprinted since she got to see Y/N topless. As he quickly closed the door and ran down; he heard shuffling behind the door and a disheveled Y/N running after him and cornered him near the end of the stair case. Oscar had had a growth spurt, so he stood taller then Y/N. She had both her hands on either side of him; "Don't you dare tell anyone what you saw or I'll make sure you can never get a girlfriend" she threatened. She already made it difficult to get a girlfriend, Oscar thought, the threat was already a reality. Oscar just nodded. "Didn't realise you'd grown taller" she hummed as she let Oscar go while acting out, 'I'm watching you' with her two fingers and walked back up.

Oscar left for the UK when he knew his karting career was picking up and he wanted to be a professional Formula One driver. Nicole cried a lot. But the 6 other kids helped her cope with Oscar's absence. Oscar sighed a sigh of relief; maybe he would finally get over his childish crush. He even got himself a girlfriend eventually. He would barely visit his family due to school and the karting schedule and then eventually single seat racing schedule. He was getting better; he was getting quite good and winning championships and graduating to the next class to racing each year. He even made new friends. But Ansel was still his best friend and no amount of distance was about to change that for him.

Whenever Oscar visited he didn't really get to see Y/N even though he might have wished he did, but he would never admit it, not even to himself. It became an even rarer occurrence after Y/N started university and had moved from Melbourne. The next 4 years; the pair would always miss each other whenever they would visit. Though he would hear about Y/N's adventures from his mother or sisters. Y/N would hear a lot about Oscar from Oscar's or her own family. Both of them would hear about each other's achievements. To Y/N, Oscar was just the tiny child her brother befriended and now she had more siblings to look after. To Oscar, she was his first crush.

Y/N moved back to Melbourne for work; she got a teaching license after completing her Bachelors in Education in English. Currently, she was working as a pre-school teacher. She loved children and this was a great way to help the leaders and the future of tomorrow. Oscar had heard his mum say something about Y/N moving back but he didn't remember; he was in the middle of a break up with his long term girlfriend and the possible signing with a Formula One team fiasco. He had flown in to Australia soon after and spent time with his family. He was excited yet scared when he got signed to McLaren, who were replacing one Australian with another. A part of Oscar hoped to run into Y/N but apparently she was busy with school since it was her first year at the job.

"Mate, what's wrong? Why do you keep looking around?" Ansel asked sounding rather annoyed at Oscar who wasn't paying attention to the game in front of them. "Our teams gonna lose the match at this rate" Ansel almost screamed. "Sorry....it's nothing" Oscar quickly replied. "No one's home. Y/N's house hunting, Aldric's out with his friends and mum and dad are out on a date. We won't be disturbed" Ansel muttered as he passed the ball to Oscar in FIFA. "Oh, okay" Oscar muttered getting back to the game not before he heard his friend sigh but didn't ask why. After the match, the two boys were sat munching on some chips, "Is Y/N moving out?" Oscar asked tentatively. "Oh yeah, she's been trying to get a decent place for a while but teacher's pay is shit; so it's taking her some time" Ansel said. "That means she won't be over often?" Oscar asked quietly. "Probably, but both our moms need her too much, they missed her so much while she was in college. It wasn't funny. Thank God she moved back because it was getting quite annoying. She's always doing stuff around both of our homes or with them anyways. So, she should still be over. Plus she takes your sister to her extracurriculars since Nicole's busy lately." Ansel added. "Oh" is all that left Oscar's mouth.

Oscar sadly returned to the UK before he got to meet Y/N. He hadn't seen her since she moved for university except in pictures his mum would send. But he had a bigger fish to fry; his new life as a Formula One driver from next year onwards.

2023 started with a lot of training on Oscar's part to prepare himself for the year. His first 2 races left much to be desired by Oscar. His third race was in his home. His family and Ansel's family had come to support him through out the weekend except Y/N. On Sunday, Oscar was chatting with Lando when everyone came. That's when he saw her. She looked as beautiful as ever; he wasn't sure if she had made his breath stop like she did just now as he watched her laugh along with his sisters. She turned around and as their eyes met, she shot him a smile; walking towards him. Fuck, he thought, he couldn't feel his tongue in his mouth or how to form words anymore, honestly.

[drunkenkissesatdusk]

can i order an older!batman!damian x reader they have a lot of children (biologically) and his family and friends does not know, i wanna know their reactions

yes your price is 1 order of creepcast merch for me since there’s 3 days left and i haven’t been able to get my grubby hands on it

YOU HAVE KIDS?

pairings — older!damian wayne — al ghul x fem!reader (could also be read as just reader since i never really use she/her much)

warnings — idk actually, pretty generic names for the kids but obviously you can imagine a different name if you want to (i just don’t like using d/n ykwim) (plus i only use them once)

summary — literally just the request but only with the batboys, batgirls, and bruce!!

notes — i hope this is good 😟

━━━━━━━ TO BE FAIR, YOU should’ve told them sooner. well, Damian should’ve, they were his family. but, you’d never forced him too, since your account on instagram wasn’t followed by any of them.

“are you sure you want to do this?” you rubbed your hands along his shoulders, gently. you were due at the Wayne manor in a little for a small lunch, you’d never been one to force Damian into seeing them, since you understood, but you were surprised when he planned on going.

“yeah, i’ll have to do it sooner or later.” he grabbed your hand and peppered kissing along your knuckles.

“mom can i bring my doll?” your youngest daughter, just turning five with no front teeth, walked out of the hall opening holding her old doll passed down from you. smiling, you nodded.

“you gonna remember to bring it home, baby?” you stepped forwards, rubbing your hands through her messy head of black hair. she’d inherited more from her father.

“mhm!” she smiled, turning back to her room with a grin.

“can’t we have more?” Damian wrapped his arms around you, his head leaning snug against your shoulder. you put your hands over his, a soft laugh leaving you.

“not for a little bit, Dame.” you turned around with a grin, gently kissing him. you shared the small intimate moment without hesitation, bonded as one soul in the moment.

“mom! are we going yet?” your oldest, now eleven, walked down the hall. you turned to her, then to your husband, who nodded. your oldest daughter saw it, and walked over to put her shoes on.

getting your other three — your youngest and the middle boys (twins) — and helping them with their shoes, you were all off. the ride was peaceful, your kids finding themselves distracted with either the outside world or the toys you let them bring along.

“have you told any of them?” you had been holding Damian’s hand over the center console, your thumb in a constant soothing motion over his knuckles and the curve of his thumb.

“no, only Alfred. he’s the only one who needed to immediately know. besides, i told him first anyways.” Damian sighed.

“that’s fine, baby. i told you, you never had to.” you brought his hand closer to your mouth, gently kissing it. Damian smiled at you before the rest of the car ride was passed with ease.

Damian, getting out and opening your door, then began to help your youngest get out of the car. you helped the twins out, made sure they had the toys they wanted, and had them follow Damian to the front door.

on the way, your draped your arm over your oldest daughters shoulders, tugging her into you. she basically melted into you, her arm going around you in return.

Alfred opened the door, a wide smile crossing his face. “master Damian!” he was overjoyed, “lovely to see you.” he hugged the man before following up with greeting you and your kids the same way.

he led the six of you upstairs to where everyone else was.

if you could’ve had a camera, you would’ve taken a picture of the moment. their faces were covered in pure shock, staring at your kids. your hand squeezed Damian’s, which you had found yourself holding.

“well, if this isn’t news i don’t know what is.” Dick broke the silence first, stepping forwards and embracing Damian. respectfully, he shook your hand.

“these are our kids, Elliot and Titus,” he gestured to the twins, both holding their action figures and playing around with them — they were Red Hood and Nightwing action figures.

“our oldest, Lorelei,” he gestured to her, “and youngest Regan.” they looked like the two of you. your youngest had all of Damian’s features, and your oldest might as well have been your carbon copy.

the twins looked like a mixture, and you could see everything processing in their minds.

“why don’t you four come with me?” Alfred stepped forwards when he noticed the slight tension in the air.

your kids didn’t argue, following him out to the garden.

“how come we never knew?” Bruce, getting older and older each day, stepped forwards.

“because it was our mutual agreement. i told Damian he didn’t have to tell anyone he didn’t want to.” you defended you and your husbands decision instantly.

“doesn’t matter,” Dick stepped up now, “we know now!” he was grinning.

“did you really buy your kids Nightwing and Red Hood action figures?” Jason was grinning when he spoke up.

“the girls have Batgirl figures.” you informed them with a wide smile, “you might not have known them, but they’ve always known you guys.” you added, your hand rubbing comforting patterns into Damian’s back.

“does this mean we’re all aunts and uncles? well, grandparent for Bruce.” Tim asked. you nodded with Damian in confirmation. a challenging look flashed across all of their faces instantaneously.

“this doesn’t mean you guys can go and spoil them.” Damian said, trying to fight back a smile.

ever since being with you, he’d mellowed out and been less harsh towards people. something you hadn’t done on purpose. he was still mean when he had to be.

“don’t spoil them too much, we still want humble and kind kids.” you corrected Damian.

“i can live with that.” Jason shrugged.

“do they really have batgirl figures?” Cass asked. you nodded again in confirmation, mentioning how it was your idea.

“how old are they all?” Steph had finally asked.

“eleven, seven, and five.” you nodded, telling them which was which afterwards. you couldn’t specifically hear it, but you knew they were all ready to fight over the title of favorite.

after awhile at the manor, you all found yourselves back at home. you and Damian relaxed outside as your kids stayed inside, but every once and awhile, the younger ones would run outside and cause chaos.

“do you feel better now that they know?” you had your head against your husbands chest, listening to him and his heartbeat.

“a little. i… i’m glad they reacted how they did. i thought they’d hate me forever.” Damian admitted with a small laugh. you grinned.

“i don’t think anyone could hate you anymore, you big softie.” you teased him, holding open your arm when your oldest daughter came out to join you two on the hammock.

masterlist — reminder that asks / requests are open!!

[lazycats-stuff]

What about Batfam x male reader where the reader was actually the first child Bruce adopted and he was the practice child. He hated growing io because Bruce had really no idea what to do and then the other kids came along and now Bruce kinda understood what to do. He hates family time because he never felt like family, he was just some doll the others could practice on so later they wouldn't make mistakes. And i imagine at some point they snap. I feel like what if Damian brought over Jon for dinner and Jon was like "oh I thought Dick's the oldest, you never told me about (reader)" and reader just slams down their fist and goes to their room. At this point the rest of the family try to comfort them but the reader only screams about how they never were a son or bother, they were only a practice doll for them to use and then throw away

This has angst written all over it... Ah. Angst train it seems... Also, I think I changed the end a bit, but that's fine...

Summary: (Y/N) was nothing but a test child for Bruce. He finally lets them have it

Warnings: angst, resentment, author sucks at angst, but hey, I tried, yelling, mentions of anxiety, the fam is trying, (Y/N) is mad beyond belief, implications of child neglect... If you can call it child neglect.

(Y/N) (L/N) was the oldest member of the Wayne family and the first child that Bruce had adopted. (Y/N) didn't have a good life at all before he met Bruce. (Y/N) could also argue that Bruce didn't treat him well as well, since being emotionally unavailable is not a good trait to have when you have children.

As the years went by, he hated growing up in the manor and with Bruce. He had food, a roof over his head and some sort of education. But that wasn't enough. The feeling of resentment that (Y/N) had has only grown as the years went by.

The feeling of being a test to Bruce, to see what he need to improve made his blood boil. He was a test pancake for Bruce and some sort of feedback to Bruce. It made (Y/N) mad beyond. Bruce could have gotten his shit straight when he started to have him as his legal child.

(Y/N) wished that he could forget everything about Bruce. About the family too. Even before Dick came, resentment building up in him nearly exploded. Looking back, he should have exploded on Bruce and Dick... Maybe even punch them. Maybe he should have done it.

When Dick came, (Y/N) saw signs that Bruce was improving, but he didn't show that to (Y/N). Years went by and Damian came. To say that Damian pretended that (Y/N) didn't exist is an understatement. (Y/N) tried to get closer to Damian, but Damian always pushed him away. (Y/N) took the signs and gave up, sadness and anger boiling inside of him. But he did observe Damian and Dick. In matter of a few days, they were close.

Dick did it without even trying.

So, (Y/N) has decided to alienate himself from the family, at least until he gets enough money to leave. Thankfully, the resentment towards Bruce and the rest of the family made him even put everything he had in school, even though no one cared about it. He had straight As and he was on his way to go to college that was far away from here. He knows that he can do it.

Even as Tim and Jason came, (Y/N) tried to be close to them, but none of them cared. None. (Y/N)'s solace became his own room and would avoid the family at all costs until it was time to eat where he had to step out. That only solidified the fact that he was going to leave as soon as possible.

Either way, he just had to alienate himself and move out. Then, everyone in the house would be happy.

However, everything would turn on its head when Damian would bring his boyfriend Jon over to meet the family and by default (Y/N). If only (Y/N) knew what would happen.

Dinner rolled around and came down to eat. He didn't expect to see Jon, but was nice to introduce himself to Jon, trying to be nice and just get this stupid dinner over with. He put some food on his plate and just ate in silence while everyone else talked.

He listened to bits and pieces and just stayed silent. He finished his plate quickly and pushed it away and sipped at his water, just being polite and getting ready to leave back at his room.

" Damian, you didn't tell me anything about (Y/N)... I thought that Dick was oldest of the brothers. " Jon said and (Y/N) froze.

Damian didn't tell Jon about him...

(Y/N)'s anger boiled over and he slammed his fist into the table before standing up quickly, knocking the chair over. Everyone got startled at the actions and watched in silence as (Y/N) left the dining room.

After a few seconds they all jumped into action, trying to stop (Y/N) to comfort him. (Y/N) slammed the door of his room shut, locking to make sure no one could enter, before he broke down on his bed. He hugged his pillow and sobbed into it.

It shouldn't hurt like this. He should have been stronger than this. Not cry over them.

" (Y/N), please open the door. " Bruce said through the door.

" Please, we just want to talk. " Dick added and (Y/N) snapped at that, anger boiling over once again.

" Talk?! TALK?! Stop acting like you care! " (Y/N) yelled at the top of his lungs.

" We do care. " Jason started.

" You don't give a single flying damn about me! I was never a son or a brother to anyone! I was only a test toy to Bruce so he could see what he could fucking improve! I was never a fucking brother either! Damian fucking proved it! " (Y/N) yelled at the top of his lungs, tears streaming down his face.

Everyone stayed silent and (Y/N) sobbed his heart out. Damian swallowed hardly, realizing what he did and how that hurt (Y/N) deeply. Maybe he shouldn't have...

Everyone glanced at each other. They stayed silent as they listened to (Y/N)'s sobs. Just how much pain did they brought up onto him?

" (Y/N), look- " Bruce started and (Y/N) screamed again.

" Don't you dare care right now! I'm moving out in a few days anyway and I don't need your pity or apology! " (Y/N) yelled, trying to wipe the never ending stream of tears.

" Moving out?! " Bruce yelled, eyes wide in shock. He know he has no right to tell (Y/N) what to do, but something flared up in Bruce. " No, you're not moving out! You are going to stay put because we have to solve this problem! "

" Are you shitting me Bruce?! Work things out?! "

" I'm not shitting you! I have to make things right with you! You are my son too! " Bruce yelled through the door.

" I don't give a single damn about any of you! "

Bruce took a deep breath, trying not to explode. He knows he has no right to be angry, but (Y/N) was still his son. " (Y/N), I am your dad and we will solve this problem. "

" We won't solves shit Bruce! "

" (Y/N), please, " Tim started, but (Y/N) cut him off. " Shut up Tim! "

Tim bit the inside of his cheek and stepped back.

" (Y/N), " Jason started, " You need to calm down, you'll give yourself a heart attack. "

(Y/N) wanted to scream even more, but he felt like he was going to die from this situation.

" Shut up, all of you! "

Now Dick started. " (Y/N), we may have been bad brothers- "

" May have?! You were- No, you are the worst brothers! " (Y/N) yelled and clenched his fists as he started facing around the room.

Dick sighed and stepped back. At the moment, everyone knew that (Y/N) talking to them without yelling at them and more importantly, he needed to calm down first.

But with how much anger and resentment there is, it is going to take a while.

" Lets leave (Y/N) alone for a while. He needs to be alone for now. " Bruce said and gently moved everyone away from (Y/N)'s doors, who was inside, trying to breathe more normally. He felt like he was going to jump out of his skin in the next few moments. He calmed down after a while, but he was still anxious beyond belief.

Unfortunately, the threat of moving out is just a threat and not a promise. (Y/N) sighed as he sat down on his bed. It was a stupid move to say that while he didn't have everything secure yet. Stupid.

(Y/N) went to the bathroom and washed his face and drank some water, to soothe his soon to be sore throat. It won't be nice to talk in a few hours.

Either way, it's better than leaving this room in order to face his siblings and dad. No, they are just roommates here, until (Y/N) can move out and just finally cut them out of his life.

[corroded-hellfire]

i love as you wish wednesdays! how did the three kids take the news that reader was expecting again? 🥰

It felt very fitting to fill this request this week because reader goes into labor with this pregnancy on April Fool’s Day and Eddie thinks it’s a prank at first (thank you @munson-blurbs for that idea). Yes, I have a whole timeline mapped out for these stories because I’m a nerd. I hope you enjoy the continuing adventures of this crazy gang 😘

Words: 2.2k

[As You Wish masterlist]

The lock clicks on the front door, swinging inward as Eddie gives it a push from the outside. Gentleman as ever, he gestures for his family to walk into the house before him. Ryan steps in first, you right behind him, then Luke comes over the threshold, Eliza slung over his shoulder, the little girl almost comatose from eating so much of her macaroni and cheese at the restaurant. 

Eddie brings up the rear and closes the door behind him. The two of you share a look full of excitement and nerves as your husband kicks off his boots and wipes his hands off on the sides of his dark jeans. It’s rare the Munson house is ever this quiet, all members stuffed from the nice family dinner they just had. Little do the kids know that the evening out was a precursor to some major news. 

It’s been a few weeks since you revealed to Eddie that you were pregnant again. The two of you had been caught in a whirlwind of excitement, your husband joking that it didn’t take him long to “get one past the goalie” since the two of you decided to go off all forms of birth control and try for another baby. Ryan, Luke, and Eliza had just started school when you found out though, so both you and Eddie wanted to give them some time to get into the swing of things before you dropped another big change on them. 

The few weeks gave you and your husband time to discuss how and when to tell the kids about the new baby. At first, you’d discussed telling the boys and Eliza separately because they’ll understand it differently because of their respective ages. Ultimately, you decided against that because it was important for you both to tell them all together, as the one big family you are. Now the time was here, and you couldn’t help but think the butterflies in your stomach must be fluttering around the baby growing inside of you. 

“I’m going to call Hannah,” Ryan says, cheeks pinkening at the mere mention of the girl he likes and went out on a “maybe sort-of” date with last weekend.

“Ah, in a little while,” Eddie says, placing a hand on the middle of his oldest son’s chest, stopping him from heading down the hallway toward his room. He nods his head towards the couch where Luke is flinging a very rag doll looking Eliza down on the middle cushion, nudging Ryan to join his siblings. 

Luke takes a seat on one side of Eliza as she struggles to sit up, while Ryan takes the other. The younger brother takes a look at his siblings before looking back to his parents.

“Who’s in trouble?” he asks.

Eddie shakes his head as he pulls the recliner that’s typically tucked away in the corner of the room in front of the couch so the two of you can sit facing your kids. Once he sits, you perch yourself in Eddie’s lap and he immediately wraps his arm around your waist.

“No one is in trouble,” Eddie tells them. 

“We just want to talk to you guys,” you add. 

“Sounds like trouble,” Eliza mumbles to her brothers, sinking lower in her seat. 

An exasperated look is shared between you and your husband, both of your expressions simultaneously turning into giddy smiles in your excitement. The look doesn’t go unnoticed by your sons, who shoot each other questioning glances over their little sister’s curly head. 

Now that it was time to break the news, you started to get truly nervous for the first time. What if they didn’t take it well? Sure, the boys had been very excited to find out when you were pregnant with Eliza, but they’ve both grown into teenagers since then and gained the moods that come along with the titles. Eliza might not be thrilled either, used to being the baby of the family, getting the lion’s share of the attention her whole life. Neither you nor Eddie doubted your kids would love their new sibling dearly, but their initial reactions were still a little worrisome.

A soft hand rubs up and down your thigh, as if Eddie can sense your nerves–and possibly shares in them as well. You’d both prepared a time and place to tell them, figured out how to initiate the conversation, but how to come out and say it? Not so much.

Eddie clears his throat and gives your leg a light squeeze, letting you know he’s got you. He gives you a nod, encouraging you forward. You’d wanted to be the one to break the news. In this moment it was hard for you to remember why.

“So, we have some news for you guys.” You know if you let those words sit there too long the three kids will just start shouting different scenarios and ideas at you, so it’s best to just get it out. “You’re going to have a new baby brother or sister.”

There. The hard part was done. Now you were ready to see their reactions. Only, none come at first. You simply sit there in your husband’s lap, three pairs of eyes staring back at you. It feels like your chest seizes up and you internally wonder if you’d said the words aloud or not.

But finally, a smile cracks on Ryan’s face and he sits up straighter.

“Really?” he asks.

The initial response breaks the ice, allowing the younger Munson siblings to sink into the conversation as well.

Eliza looks a little confused while Luke’s eyebrows pull together and he lets out a groan as he flops back on the couch.

“Ugh, that means you guys still do it,” he says. 

You can’t help but balk at his words, your cheeks heating up. Honestly, it shouldn’t surprise you coming from Luke. It certainly didn’t shock your husband. 

Eddie raises his eyebrows at the fourteen-year-old. “How old do you think we are?”

“63,” Eliza answers immediately with complete confidence. 

Stifling a laugh, Ryan leans in towards you, you meeting him halfway to hear what he has to say.

“Be glad that the age part of that is what she focused on,” Ryan mumbles to you and you nod in agreement. 

Eddie runs his hand over his face, pushing past the age thing. “Eliza, do you understand about the baby?”

The little girl tilts her head to the side like a confused puppy. She looks alarmingly like her father with an open and curious expression on her cherubic face. 

“A baby?” she asks.

“That’s right,” Eddie says with a nod. “There’s a baby growing in Mommy’s tummy.”

This seems to puzzle Eliza more than anything else that has been said. Her face scrunches up as she tilts her head to the other side. “How did it get there?”

At her question, both of your teenage sons turn to look at the two of you with shit-eating grins on their faces. Of course they’d be no help.

“Yeah, how?” Luke asks, feigning innocence. 

Heat blooms fire in your cheeks and Eddie clears his throat before shooting the boys a quick glare. By the way he clenches his fist, you can tell your husband is resisting throwing a couch pillow at the younger teen. 

“Well,” Eddie says, taking a calming breath, “when mommies and daddies love each other, their love can grow a baby.”

Questions still swim in Eliza’s eyes so you swoop in to add more information before she can ask anything more specific. 

“And the baby grows in my belly until they’re big and strong and can be born,” you add. 

The little gears turning in Eliza’s head are practically visible as she thinks over her parents’ words. She’s silent for a few moments before speaking.

“I’m the baby.”

“You’ll always be our baby girl,” Eddie is quick to assure her. This was his biggest worry in telling the kids; Eliza was so used to having everyone wrapped around her finger. “Ryan and Luke are still my baby boys.”

The three-year-old isn’t convinced. 

“…I’m the baby.”

With a soft smile, you lean forward and scoop your daughter up in your arms. She settles in your lap with a little huff, and you press reassuring kisses to her chocolate curls. 

“You are. But there’s going to be another baby. That means you get to be a big sister now.”

The toddler ponders this aspect for a moment, eventually asking, “What I do?”

“Well, before the baby is born you can help me pick out things for the nursery and some cute baby clothes,” you say, appealing to her stylish streak. “You know I trust your fashion sense more than the boys.”

Eliza’s small head bobs up and down in agreement. Never again would she let her brothers pick out her outfits—she’s learned her lesson.

“Then after the baby is born,” you continue, “you can teach them all kinds of stuff. You’ll be to the new baby like Ryan and Luke are to you.”

“Will…” Eliza’s bottom lip starts to tremble, another worry taking hold in her mind. “Will they still love me and play with me?”

Her big brothers are on duty though, already reassuring her before you can even raise your head to look at them.

“Of course, squirt,” Luke says, reaching forward and poking her full belly. “You’re not getting rid of us that easily.”

“A new baby is just one more person to love,” Ryan explains with a shrug of his shoulders. “But that doesn’t mean we love you any less.”

“The heart can always make more love,” Eddie adds, taking his daughter’s hand and giving it a squeeze.

“And just think,” Luke says, eyes widening with his trademark mischievous grin, “when they get older, you and I can play pranks on them like Ryan and I do to you.”

Large doe eyes light up at that, Eliza always wanting to be a part of her big brother’s shenanigans. The new idea clearly excites her and the prospect of her becoming a mini-Luke is too exhausting for you to even consider.

Eliza next turns those big brown eyes on you, now looking a little more serious than excited. 

“Mama, can you make the baby a girl?”

Both you and Eddie chuckle at her request.

“I can’t control that, sorry kid,” you tell her with a small smile.

“I hope she’s a girl,” Eliza says, sounding more like she’s declaring what will be rather than what she wants. 

“No!” Luke protests with an overdramatic whine. “Ryan and I need another boy on our side.”

“I say it’s a girl,” Ryan says and it makes Luke drop his jaw and look at his older brother as if he’s a traitor. But, of course, it’s Luke, so another scheme pops into his brain.

“How much are you willing to bet?”

“Oh, God,” you mumble, dropping your head forward to rest your forehead atop Eliza’s curls.

The older Munson brother appraises the younger, his eyes suspicious and inquisitive. “What do you have in mind?”

“Loser gets a tattoo.”

“No,” Eddie immediately interjects. He didn’t mind the betting, but he wasn’t about to let one of his teenage sons choose something permanent to ink on his other teenage son for the rest of their lives.

“You have like 80 of them!” Luke whines at his father.

“But all my choice, none from a bet,” Eddie says. That may or may not be true, but he’s not about to give his impressionable son any ideas. “Next.”

“Loser wears a Care Bear onesie—with a hood—into a McDonald’s and eats lunch there,” Ryan says, pointing a finger in his brother’s direction.

Luke immediately accepts. “Deal. Winner picks the Care Bear costume.”

They shake on it and Eddie can’t help the amused smirk that dances on his lips.

“I cannot wait to see this.”

The bet now settled, Ryan turns to face you. “How far along are you?”

“Just eight weeks,” you say.

“Maybe we won’t find out if it’s a girl or boy beforehand. Just keep the suspense of the bet in the air until the birth,” Eddie muses. Of course he’s egging this on. 

“Can I name this baby too?” Ryan asks, eyes lighting up.

This question catches Eliza by surprise and her eyes widen comically as she stares at him.

“You named me?!”

“You’re lucky. Luke wanted to name you Donnie,” Ryan explains.

Eyes getting impossibly wider, your little girl looks up at you. “Mommy, don’t let Luke name the baby.”

With a laugh, you press a kiss to the top of her head. “Don’t worry, sweet pea.”

Ryan lounges back on the couch, a smirk on his face as his eyes flit back and forth between you and Eddie.

“You know, I think you’re having this baby because I’ll be a senior next year and you don’t want an empty nest when I’m gone.”

“This is not how I envisioned this conversation going,” Eddie says with a huff of laughter.

“What did you want more of?” Luke asks. “Cheers? Tears? I’ll be happy to provide either way.”

Both of your sons start performing over-the-top expressions for Eddie, fake crying and grinning in glee, proving once and for all that they both inherited his dramatic gene. 

With a sigh bigger than you’d expect from such a small girl, Eliza snuggles back against you and places a small hand on your tummy. All three Munson men start cackling in laughter at something Luke did, but Eliza just looks up at you with a straight face.

“Boys,” you say with a shake of your head.

“Tha’s why I want baby to be a girl.”

[hoe4sports]

It was always you

Jessie Fleming x reader

A/N: She’s long y’all

Warning: Divorce? None really

Summary: Post divorce, thinks have fallen into a rythm developing over the span of years. But one of you, falls out of that rythm and struggles keeping up.

Divorce. You couldn’t pinpoint exactly when it happened. Not the administrative part of the divorce with lawyers, documents, protocol and court; but the emotional part of the divorce. You had spent hours in the early stages of your divorce trying to figure out what went wrong, analysing every aspect of your relationship.

Sure, things had undoubly gotten tougher after adding a second child to the mix. But, the second child didn’t feel like the reason as to why the slipping apart had happened. Jessie had been the one to bring up the possibility of divorce; thinking it would solve all your problems. It was a civil divorce, you and your ex-wife only wanting the best for your children. Never talking bad about each other in front of the girls, never bringing new girlfriends into the family.

Your kids were happy, they felt loved and they were well taken care of. To you and Jessie, that was all that mattered. Your oldest, Lilly was a hopeless romantic. Even at 6 years old, she would beg her mom to buy flowers for you. It was one of the traits that she had gotten from Jessie. Your other daughter, Eden, had walked in her sister’s shoes, adapting her sister’s romantic trait into her own personality.

The agreement on the kids was easy, one week each, living in the same neighbourhood only 5 minutes apart for each other. It made the divorce easier on the kids, knowing that their other mom was right up the road. Every other holiday, and a few weeks each summer for travel was shared between the pair of you.

This particular day, you found yourself sitting outside on the front porch waiting for Jessie to drop the kids off. She had taken your 12 and 8 year old to Canada for some well needed family time. You didn’t mind, you had know Jessie’s family for years and they were the most welcoming group of people. They still invited you on vacations and Christmas, claiming that you were still family. It was funny, you and Jessie had both dated other girls in the span of time since the divorce. But, nothing had ever lasted.

When you saw Jessie’s car pulling up, you looked at your Golden retriever, Murphy and tapped his head. “Look Murph, the girls are home!” You cheered in your puppy voice. He was an old man now, 12 years old, but he was still young at heart.

When Eden hopped out, Murphy sprinted towards the driveway while wiggling his tail. “Murph! Mama!” Eden yelled while running towards you with only one shoe. She crashed into your legs and wrapped her arms around your frame. “I missed you mama” she whispered while squeezed your legs extra hard. “I missed you too doll” you comforted while rubbing her back before she slipped inside to find her Barbie dolls.

“Where is my teen?” You yelled out while your daughter very quietly walked towards you. She was moving into her “cool teenage” phase of her life, and she never wanted to do anything “uncool”.

“Hi mama” she said calmly once coming to greet you. You instantly wrapped her into a hug. “I missed you lots my little girl” you whispered into her hair before giving her kisses on her cheeks. “Okay, okay, I’m gonna go to my room and call Kennedy” she said while wiping off the kiss eager to talk to her bestfriend.

Jessie came up with the girls suitcases smiling with her cap on. “Hi, here’s their bags. Mom washed most of their clothes so it wouldn’t be too much on you” she stated while placing carrying the suitcases up the little stairs with Murphy in her heels. After she placed down the suitcases, she turned around to your puppy and gave him pets. He instantly got excited wiggling his butt like only golden’s can.

“Hi Jess, how was Canada?”

“Good, I love showing the girls off to the family. I’m so proud of them, it’s ridiculous”

“I’m glad, how is momma?”

“She’s good, healthy. Back doing her water aerobics twice a week. She told me to give you a hug from her” Jessie shrugged while looking at the tips of her shoes.

You wrapped her into a hug, just like the old days. It wasn’t unusual for you to hug, but this hug felt different. Perhaps it was because it was from her mom, you figured. The hug lasted longer than usual, a sense of uncertainty lingering in the air.

“She told me to convince you to come to Canada. Grandma misses you too” Jessie said while finally looking up at you blushing.

“Aaw, that’s so sweet! But, you know I can’t” you finished looking at Murphy who was shoving his head in your hand.

“Right, right, see you next week?” Jessie said, eager to wrap up the conversation. It wasn’t really like her. Normally, she had plenty of time to chat and hang around.

“Busy? Are you meeting up with someone? Someone special?” You teased poking her shoulder. She gave you a faint smile.

“Something like that” She replied with a smirk on her face. You smiled politely back at her feeling uneasy about her dating some new, but at this point in life; it had been years since the last date with another woman. The pair of you said your goodbyes before you entered your home with the girls suitcases. “Well”, you thought to yourself, “I have to get to working on this unpacking”.

-

Later that day, you found yourself stood in the kitchen in front of the stove cooking up some pancakes for the girls to eat before bedtime. This was a tradition you had since they were young; every Sunday you sat down as a family and ate pancakes before bedtime while taking about anything and everything.

“Mama, I made you a picture! Do you wanna see it?” Your youngest squealed, in love with art from a young age. “Yes love, I always want to see your art” you confirmed while flipping the last pancake. Eden ran upstairs to her room to get her binder. It held drawings from when she was just a baby back in kindergarten. You loved taking care of the art, knowing that watching the pictures was a glimpse into her head at that time.

Your oldest appeared from the living room at the smell of pancakes. “Are the pancakes ready soon? Do you want any help?” She asked leaning into your side wanting some affection. You wrapped your arm around her side holding her in your embrace. “If you want to, you could set the table?” You suggested in which she immediately nodded to and got to work. Even though she was becoming a teenager, she was still always wanting to be helpful and close to her mom.

Eden came tumbling down the stairs with her files bringing it into the kitchen flipping through the pages. “Here it is! I already put it in, but it’s me, nana, Lilly and mommy in Canada! And this, this is Elena’s dog.” She said while pointing to something that looked more like a sheep than a dog. You scrunched your nose when your daughter mentioned Elena, Jessie’s Canadian ex. You didn’t know that they had seen Elena in Canadian which was out of character for Jessie. “Wow, amazing! Did you see Elena in Canada?” You asked eagerly without wanting to snoop around. “Yes, she came for dinner. Nana made a roast” she said as she shrugged. The thought made you uncomfortable, and you immediately decided to change the topic.

“Alright girls, pancakes are ready” you announced flopping the last pancake onto the plate and turning towards the table. The three of you sat down at the dark oak table chatting lightly about school and football. The girls both played football, and both of them were excited for school to start.

“So, how was Canada girls?” You asked while looking at Lilly. Lilly shrugged her shoulders just like teenagers do. “We went to this market with lots of little stands were people sold lots of things. I even saw someone selling crochet frogs!” Eden said excitedly happily munching on her food. “Wow, did you buy it?” You followed up. “No, they only had green and I wanted pink, so I got a pink scrunchie instead!” She continued blabbering on about Canada.

After pancakes and washing up, the girls had both gotten ready for bed. You checked your youngest first, who was soundly asleep holding on to her stuffed sheep. You reached for the duvet and pulled it up wrapping her in like when she was little. Then, you headed to Lilly’s room. Her room was tidy, but that was one of her traits: she was very organised.

“Hi mama” she said while yawning in her bed, a book in her lap. “Hi baby, ready for bed?” You asked scooting into her bed wrapping your arms around her. “Yea..” she started before tearing up a bit, quickly swallowing her tears away. “I missed you mom, it’s not the same without you” your daughter pleaded leaning towards your chest. “I missed you too doll, and I wish things weren’t like this. I know that Eden dosent really remember when me and mommy used to live together, but I know you do. It’s very valid and I wish we could’ve worked it out.” You assured her feeling her relax in your arms. Hair long hair was hanging on her shoulders, and you immediately started humming while brushing through her locks with your hands.

After a few minutes, her breathing had slowed down and she showed signs of being asleep. You eased her out of your arms and into her bed before kissing her forehead, and moving towards the door. Your hands reached for the light switch, but before you could turn it off; you heard a voice. “You know that mom still is in love with you?” she whispered out her eyes being closed, just moments away from falling asleep. “Good night, princess. I love you forever” you hushed leaving her room quietly. Both the girls preferred to sleep with their door slightly open, just in case they need their mom. You loved it, making you feel like you are still the mom to two little girls instead of soon teenagers.

You hopped down the stairs to clean up the kitchen, the words of your daughter lingering in the back of your head. You had been warned about kids of divorce wanting their parents to get back together, but this felt different. She had previously begged you to go on a date with her teacher, convinced that you were a match.

As you cleared the table, plate by plate being moved into the dishwasher, you couldn’t help but think about what life could’ve been like. You and Jessie had met young, just after she had gone to Europe and you stayed together for over 10 years. It was weird how it all came to an end, you couldn’t really remember why you ended things. Maybe it was a silly argument? Or maybe Jessie’s busy lifestyle?

After clearing the table, you went to wipe off the surface noticing your daughter’s book of drawings. You sat down in front of it, opening it and watching picture by picture pass. Hours upon hours of work, all to be shown to her family. She took pride in her drawings, drawing her feelings.

One picture was two houses next to each other. One person infront of each door, two little girls moving between houses. It was cute, all of them looked happy. That was the confusing part for you; why would Lilly say that Jessie was still in love with you, when she seemed perfectly happy with the custody solution.

The next picture was with your daughter in bed, your puppy sleeping next to her. She had always loved the golden retriever. Even back when she was a little girl, she would occasionally fall asleep leaning onto the dog. It was a relationship like no other.

As you sat and admired the pictures, you heard the sound of your dogs paws shuffling downstairs. He immediately waked into the kitchen and looked at you while whining.

“Are you waiting for me to come night night?” You asked in your puppy voice. The dog immediately wagged his tail in excitement bonking his nose into your leg. You got up from the chair, and brought the book of drawings with you, following your dog to your bedroom door. After opening up your bedroom, he leaped into your bed taking his usual spot by the pillow. He ways slept with you, you hadn’t really slept next to anyone but Jessie. Expect from your girls, but that dosent count.

After finishing up your skincare, you stood by the sink brushing your teeth listening to the soft snores of your dog. It made you smile seeing him knocked out, the excitement of having the girls back bringing him joy.

As you brushed your teeth, you flipped through the book of drawings watching her arts. Fingers tracing the drawings, taking notice of each carefully placed line. One of the pictures, had stuck to you. It was a picture of you, Jessie and your two girls eating ice cream in the park. She naturally had included Murphy in the picture, adding an ice cream to the top of his head. You giggled looking at it, quickly finishing your brushing to take a picture of the drawing.

You

Look what Eden drew, she’s hilarious!

*photo attached*

Seen

You huffed in annoyance when Jessie left you on read, assuming she was busy doing some kind of football related stretch at home. The lights were then turned off, and you were quick to go to bed.

-

A few months later, the summer was over and school was back. Luckily for you, the girls loved school. Eden’s favourite subject was Math and Lilly’s favourite subject was science. You truly felt blessed by having kids that were this easy.

“Is mommy coming over later?” Eden asked nervously fumbling with her backpack. You looked into the rear view mirror. “Of course she is” you confirmed giving your Oscar winning smile. Truth was that Jessie had missed out on your weekly dinners for the last few weeks. It wasn’t just you who were bothered by it, so was your girls.

“Bye mommy!” Eden shouted jumping out of your car before skipping down to the school meeting up with her friends. The group of them walked in together. It was routine, they always waited for each other.

This morning after dropping the girls off, the annoyance you had felt regarding Jessie was rapidly growing. She had changed for the worse since the end of the summer: never answering your messages or your calls. Forgetting to come to family dinners. It annoyed you to a t when Lilly came beaming downstairs saying that she had talked to Jessie on the phone.

Your solution to this was having Eden ask Jessie over for dinner. Now, it wasn’t unusual for you to have dinner together. It was fairly normal on your household; but Jessie hadn’t answered your invitations. However, you knew that she would do anything for her daughters.

That was how you had ended up cooking favourite meal; your authentic pasta carbonara after work. If she wasn’t gonna talk to you, she was gonna be forced to eat your food in your presence.

“Mama, I think she’s coming!” Eden yells excitedly jumping up and down making Murphy bark while happily wagging his butt. Your oldest came skipping down the stairs when she heard your youngest announcement.

Eden opened the door up and full on launched at Jessie, wrapping her body around her like a koala. “Mommy, you came!” She giggled holding Jessie tight. “Of course, anything for my girls” Jessie said while hugging her back.

When she moved inside, she quickly petted Murphy before wrapping your oldest into a bear hug holding her tight. “How are you today, girls?” She asked looking at the pair of them. Eden looked like she was about to burst out information, but eagerly looked at her sister’s approval.

“Go ahead, Eds” Lilly giggled knowing what was about to happen.

“Okay, so today at maths this stupid boy, Jacob, threw a pencil at me! So I hid his calculator, and then after maths, I had lunch! It was chicken, I just love chicken! And then, Tilly told me about how she and her parents are going to France for Christmas and she promised me a postcard, and THEN, we had a pop quiz in English and I had no mistakes so I got a sticker AND THEN when I walked home, I saw a squirrel!” She said spewing out all her thoughts making you and her sister giggle while Jessie stood with wide eyes looking at her.

“Oh my, sounds like you had an eventful day” Jessie said scratching the back of her neck. “What about your day, Lils?”

“Hmm, it was okay. Kennedy and I played football with the boys during recess.” She shrugged in her typical teenage character.

“Wow,did they play rough?” Jessie wondered.

“Well, duuh! But it’s okay because I’m faster and I’m better, so they can’t catch me” Lilly brags proudly crossing her arms in front of her chest.

“You are so clever, I’m so proud of you both” Jessie said pulling both her girls into a hug.

-

At the dinner table, conversation was somewhat limited. Jessie didn’t really take initiative to talk to you, rather talking to you through the girls. The girls happily chatted along with her. It was weird, you thought, feeling like a stranger in your own home.

While munching on pasta Eden decided to drop a bomb.

“Mommy, do you miss living in our house?” Eden asked curiously looking Jessie dead in the eye. Jessie immediately chocked on a piece of pasta making her cough while having a terrified look in her face. Lilly shot you a look whispering “this is about to be good” making you smile of her sassy comment.

“Uh, I mean, I miss seeing you girls everyday, but I have my house now” Jessie tried hoping the answer was enough for Eden.

“But your house is small, I like this house better” Eden complained forcing you to turn around to not break out in laughter. She pouted her lips and crossed her arm. Your eyes shifted to your oldest who looked like she was about to collapse into a laughing fit, making you smiles

“Yea, i get that..” Jessie tried before looking towards you for help. “How is work?” You asked giving her a helping hand out of the awkwardness. Jessie shot you a look mixed of relief and gratitude before nodding. “It’s good, I’m going back to play with Canada soon. We have a game against Norway” Jessie finished.

“Where is Norway?” Eden asked curiously. “It’s at the top of Europe, close to the North Pole” Lilly lectured, making her sister’s eyes widen at the answer. “Wow, I wanna go to the North Pole! Mommy, can I come? And Lilly? And mama?” She begged giving Jessie her best puppy dog eyes .

Jessie looked sweaty for the millionth time during dinner, once again looking at your for help. “Norway is very far away, but maybe we can make it work? I’ll talk to mom about it after bedtime” you reassured your youngest carbon copy of Jessie. She seemed happy with the response and munched happily on her pasta again.

After the four of you had finished eating, the whole family was helping clearing the table. Jessie still hadn’t said much except typical polite talk, not normal to her considering she was quite the talker. Just as you finished cleaning, Jessie announced her departure.

“Mommy, can’t you stay until bedtime? Please mommy, you are never here at mama’s house anymore” Eden begged with her big brown eyes looking up at Jessie. She tugged on Jessie’s arm trying to launch onto her. Jessie’s cheeks flushed, and she rubbed her neck searching for the smallest bit of comfort. “Uh..I..Well, I have early practice tomorrow…” She stuttered seeing her daughter’s heart break in front of her. Eden’s shoulders lowered, and her face turned into a frown. “Okay, okay mom, thats fine. Mama always have time to read my bedtime story.. Bye” Eden turned around and walked upstairs, her sister giving Jessie an annoyed look.

“Doll, would you mind going after your sister? I’ll say bye to mama, and then I’ll be right there, pinkypromise” Lilly nodded her head, moving up the stairs to find her sister. But before she walked away from the stairs, she turned to look down at Jessie.

“Jessie, I think you really hurt sissy. She misses family dinners, and family nights, she talked about this all week. But it’s okay, because mama is always here to pick up the pieces, always making up excuses for you so that Eden dosent feel sad” she spat out leaving you feeling caught off guard while Jessie felt like the worst human in the world. Hearing her daughter call her out, and call her what was her government name instead of her most valued title.

Jessie felt uneasy, not sure how to handle the situation. All she wanted, was to get out of the house that she once had lived in. A part of her didn’t understand how you managed to live in the house with only the girls and your dog. How you were able to live in a house that was once filled with endless love. With to happy parents. Because recently, whenever she came over to pick up the girls or drop them off, she felt this heavy feeling in her gut having regrets about the divorce.

You heard your youngest sob upstairs before her bedroom door shut closed again. Jessie’s gaze met yours, and you gave her a sad look. “I’m gonna go deal with the girls, and I think you should leave.” You said moving towards the stairs. “You have the key, lock the door on the way out” you asked while moving upwards. Jessie stood still at the bottom of the stars on the verge of tears. “And for reference, I don’t know what’s going on with you lately; but you really hurt them, you know” and with that, you cleared the staircase moving in direction of your girls. At the drop of your last word, Jessie felt the tears press in her eyes. She looked at the staircase debating whenever to go after you, but she was too embarrassed of her own actions.

All Jessie wanted was for her family to feel prioritised, and important. But all she felt like she had done, was that she had failed you. She failed her duties as a wife, failed her marriage, she failed your agreements after the divorce and now she had failed her children. It hurt more than she could’ve ever imagined, and she quickly turned around to leave the house, locking the door on the way out.

You embraced your youngest who was sobbing in your arms, her older sister sitting across from you. “Eden, I’m sure she doesn’t mean it like that” you spoke trying to comfort the little girl. “But mama, she never used to be like this when I was a baby” Eden’s sob forced her to stop mid sentence, her clinging to you like back when she was a baby that didn’t want to go to kindergarten.

“I know love, and it’s not right of her to be like this to you, to both of you girls.” You said, trying to take notice of your oldest’s state of mind. “Mom..Do you think she doesn’t love us? Maybe she has found another family with another mom with other kids and other dogs and other houses..” your oldest spat out on the verge of tears. Their statements were bearing witness of the hormones about to change them from little girls to hormonal teenagers.

“Okay, girls. I know that we are feeling sad, and that’s okay. We are allowed to feel whatever we are feeling, it’s valid. But, I think your mom is going through something that makes her feel distant and spacey. She hasn’t been like this before. How about I try to talk to her?” You negotiated, trying to spare Jessie’s reputation. The girls nodded while sniffling in synch.

“How about we go to my bedroom, and we can watch tv until we fall asleep in mommy’s bed?” You suggested watching a spark light up in the girls eyes. They immediately eyed each other while nodding before getting up racing down the hallway, your dog bouncing after them. It made your heart swell: your daughter’s wholeheartedly giggles and your dog’s happy barks.

-

After the girls fell asleep, you got out of bed and sneaked yourself downstairs with your phone feeling determined to get an answer out of Jessie. You immediately dialed her number, waiting for her to pick up.

“Hi.. Is everything okay?”

“Hi, Jess. It’s me. What’s up?”

“What do you mean? I just got out of the shower, about to get ready for bed”

You rolled your eyes over her trying to play off cool.

“Stop being a comedian, it’s not working. What’s up with you recently?”

Jessie held a long silence terrified to say something wrong, that was if she could get something out.

“It’s nothing”

“Jess..”

“What? It’s nothing!”

You could hear Jessie getting annoyed, and for some reason: that annoyed you. She knew that you had figured out that she was going through something, and she hated that. You let out a groan in annoyance.

“For fucks sake, Jessie. We were married for many years, we had kids together; I know you better than this. Something is wrong, but you refuse to talk about it.”

Jessie felt like she was getting scolded, and perhaps that was what she needed; someone to talk sense into her. The truth was that everyone had noticed: her coaches had benched her, her teammates were confused and her mom was worried. Jessie hated carrying around this big bomb because it felt like it was about to explode at any second.

“Uh..It’s just..I should maybe talk to you about this in person”

A part of her felt like this might be good for her. To talk to someone about the problem. Someone who wouldn’t judge, and surely the woman she had kids with wouldn’t judge her for anything.

“Is it another woman?”

Jessie gasped in shock. How could you believe that?

“Sorry, but what?”

“Is there another woman? It’s fine if it is, I’m happy for you”

Jessie felt like throwing up by the thought of another woman. She didn’t want other women: she wanted her woman.

“Yea no, how about i stop by after work tomorrow?”

Jessie suggested, mentally kicking herself for forcing a conversation about the topic.

“After 21, then the girls will be asleep and we’ll have some privacy”

“O-okay, see you tomorrow then?”

“See you soon, Jess”

Jessie hung up feeling her heart beat rapidly, terrified of what was to come. She had lost you once, and she was terrified to lose you again. If you didn’t want to coparent with her anymore; that would be devastating for her. Possibly, career ending. She missed seeing you and the girls in the stands. She missed having the girls as her mascots. She missed having you come down to the pitch with the girls after games, Jessie chasing around Lilly while you carried Eden who was still a bay. Tears filled Jessie’s eyes as she sat on the edge of her bed. Tears of fear, frustration and anger for the divorce she had ended up in.

-

The following evening, you put the girls to bed waiting until they were asleep before texting Jessie to come over. You were happy to sort out whatever Jessie’s sudden problems was, just hoping that it wasn’t gonna be something related to your kids. A wave of nervousness dawned upon you, which lead to to quickly tidy up the house. Cups were moved to the dishwasher, the floor was hoovered and you made sure to fluff the pillows up. 10 minutes later, you heard knocking on your door.

Jessie stood nervously outside of the door waiting for you to open up the door. A part of her felt uneasy about opening up the door to let herself in; this wasn’t her home anymore, and she wanted to respect your boundaries.

You flung open the door looking at her with a smile, but you frowned when you saw her sad face.

“Damn, is this going to be one of those conversations?” You mumbled underneath your breath feeling Jessie’s sadness flare onto you. Jessie shot you a dirty look before mumbling something along the lines of “I heard that”.

“Feel free to sit”

You wanted her to take the lead on the situation, that way she could control the conversation. She slowly sat down on the couch looking like she was about to shit her own pants.

“Jessie? You seem like you are about to pass out. Relax! I’ve seen you naked” you teased hoping to make Jessie laugh, but your attempt at humor only got rewarded with a chuckle.

Jessie gulped trying to swallow the dry feeling in her throat without much success. She watched you sit down in the chair across from her, making her feel insecure.

You looked at her, waiting for her to talk.

“Jess? It’s okay, you can talk about whatever you want to, I won’t judge” you comforted her trying to meet her gaze. Jessie’s eye were glued to the floor, not bothering to give you as much as a glance.

“Could you maybe sit here?” Jessie spoke out, voice just above a whisper. Her hand patted the couch pillow next to her. You immediately got up and sat down next to her. Your feet sat down crisscross and you turned to face her.

“What’s going on, love?” You said looking into her eyes, her old nickname slipping out of your lips like air. Her heart fluttered over the use of her nickname, feeling an ache to have things back to what they once were.

Jessie looked up at you trying to find words, but she couldn’t spell out a single syllable. Her face ended up looking like a fish heaping for air rather than a person trying to speak.

“Here”, you said, “take me hand” you suggested offering your hand to her. She grabbed your hand back without thinking, making her feel dumb for looking so desperate.

She looked up at you trying to figure out how to drop the bomb on you. She couldn’t speak. She ended up just sighing again and again.

“Jessie?”

Her gaze met yours, eyes looking fragile and vulnerable.

“Talk to me, please”

You wiped away a tear from her cheek, scared of whatever was gonna come out from her mouth. Worried that someone might be sick, that she was going to transfer to another team or that she had done something dumb.

“Listen, the girls and I just want what’s best for you. I can see that you are suffering inside, please, talk to me. I want to help” you pleaded looking into her eyes, rubbing her thigh carefully.

Jessie sniffed before taking in a deep breath.

“The reason I have been so distant lately…” she started, but stopping as her word came to a loss.

“I talked to my mom when we were in Canada, and she made me realise a few things”

You nodded encouraging while offering her a smile. Her words came to a stop again, not sure how to handle the situation.

“Alright, keep going” you whispered giving her hand a squeeze. “It’s just me, love”, you said trying your best to support her.

“You see, that’s the problem. It is you. It was always you.” Jessie blurted out making you feel confused.

“Uh, I’m sorry?” You tried, not sure why you were offering your apologies when you couldn’t pinpoint what you had done wrong.

“No, no, god no! It’s not something to be sorry about..”

“Then what is it?” You responded, frustration lingering underneath your skin.

Jessie looked at you, at a loss for words once again. Her gaze felt intense, like she was staring into your soul. Her face moved towards yours.

“It was always you, y/n” Jessie whispered before closing the gap between you. The kiss lasted for a few seconds before you both pulled apart. You looked at Jessie, feeling confused.

“I miss you, I miss us. Leaving you, the kids, hell even Murphy was the biggest mistake of my life. The divorce was the biggest mistake of my life, and I know that you probably don’t feel the same anymore, and that’s okay. But I just, ugh, nobody will ever compare to you. I want you back, I want our life back, I want to wake up next to you again and know that I made the best decision when I married you.I don’t even know how to g-“

“Shut up, and kiss me Jess” you responded looking in her eyes feeling touched by the vulnerability of the moment. Jessie looked into your eyes before closing them and closing the gap between us, starting the process of rebuilding what once had been torn apart.

[sarilolla]

Trolls headcanon

So, we all know how babies and young kids often hide or stick around in an adults hair (I’m guessing most often a parent or parent figure)? I think that’s a remnant from when the adults had to carry them around like that for safety reasons (pre-sound era). It calmed the kiddo down, as they felt safe and protected, and kept them in a safe spot for the adult. It also probably comes from how an egg incubates in hair

Now, Pop Trolls literally depended on this calming feature for their kiddos while living in the Troll Tree. While adults and teens could be quiet when necessary, babies and young kids struggled. So hair time was when the tiny one knew they should be calm and many used it as a nap spot. It’s a thing heavily associated with protection

That protection and calming feeling continues when the kid is too old to stay in their protector/guardian’s hair. That means that if a parent grabbed their kid with their hair (like we have seen the Pop Trolls do many times), the kid will instinctively calm down a bit. It’s the sense of family and protection, and that instinct can carry on long until adulthood. The longer the older carries you around in their hair, the longer that instinct of safety lasts

Branch was carried around a lot by his brothers, but mostly JD as he was the oldest and could easier carry him around (they’re sitting on your head after all, you need a certain strength). All four of them were protective of their tiny baby brother, so they all carried him a lot, meaning that if any of them grabbed him with their hair now… he would instantly calm down and nearly rag doll, much to his embarrassment

[hemmingsleclerc]

New Year's Day ┃Timothée Chalamet

summary: where timothee spends new year's day with his girlfriend's family and he may not understand their traditions but he still enjoys the night

timothee chalamet x mexican!reader

''5..4..3..2..1 and!''

''Happy New Year!''

As soon as I heard the first fireworks in the sky I started eating the 12 grapes I had in my glass.All my other relatives at the table began to do the same, from the oldest to my little cousins. At some point I felt like I was about to choke and lose consciousness, but I wasn't willing to let any of my wishes come true.

I looked to my side and saw Timmy eating his third grape. He chewed calmly, enjoying the sweet taste of the fruit and at times I saw how he stifled a laugh when he saw me so desperate. I nudged him lightly with my elbow and motioned for him to hurry up.

''What?'', he asked, showing confusion on his face.

I had to swallow what was in my mouth to be able to answer him.

''You have to eat them quickly Timmy, if you continue like this it won't work and your wishes won't come true!'', I said

''I don't think I have any idea what I was supposed to be wishing for, anyways, why do it so quickly?''

''For more excitement''

When I finished the last grape, I thought about it a little, I didn't really remember what I had wished for but I was sure that among my 12 wishes was happiness, health and love. Everything happened so fast that I barely had time to think about other things to ask for. My brother and cousins had also finished their grapes and ran to the door where there were some suitcases and ran out. Timothée, still in his place at the table, watched everything with a mixture of curiosity and confusion as he continued eating.

''I thought they would spend the night here! Where did they go?''

''They will be back soon, don't worry, the block is not that big, they just went out for a little run'' I said

''¿What?¿For what?''

''To travel, silly!'' I exclaimed excitedly ''You have to run around the block with a suitcase, it is said that it is to attract luck to be able to travel a lot during the year''

Timothée stood there in silence as he slowly began to make a surprised face processing everything his girlfriend had said. He watched everything attentively and with a sparkle in his eyes, excited to be able to participate in the ''curious'' traditions.

This year, I thought it would be a great idea for Timothée to spend the New Year with my family since we had spent the previous year with his family, and I also thought it would be fun for him to know the rituals we did every year on New Year's Eve.

''That doesn't make sense at all''

''I know! It doesn't have to!''

When my cousins arrived I went to chat with them a little about how the race had been. Meanwhile Timmy started talking to my father when I saw my uncles carrying ''the old''.

''Oh my god Timmy you're going to love this'' I took him by the hand and ran to where my whole family was gathered.

Before it started I went to get a pencil and paper for both of us while Timothée returned to get his drink.

''Ready? you have to write down everything bad about the year'' I told him while I took a drink from his glass

''For what? What will you do with that?'' he asked while looking for a place to lean on and write, but since there wasn't one nearby, he stood behind me and leaned on my back while holding his glass in his mouth.

''Do you see that doll that is there?'' I pointed ''It is supposed to represent the old year, it is made of different things like cardboard, and it is set on fire but first we put all the papers with everything bad that happend through the year so that it doesn't repeat''

''They set it on fire? Is that safe?''

It's probably not the safest thing but I may not tell him that.

''Relax Timmy, we do this every year, did you finish writing?''

He nodded and handed me the paper, I folded it along with mine and put it between the doll before my uncle set it on fire. I returned to Timmy and stood in front of him while he hugged me and rested his head on mine.

''Did you had fun babe?''

''I have to admit it was a little strange but it was a lot of fun, we should do some of these things next year together with my family, I bet it would be fun to run down the street with suitcases with Pauline.''

I nodded as I turned to kiss him, I was sure that next year would be just as fun as this one.

[daggerspare-standingby]

My Big Fat Texas Family - Hangman x Reader

Ok ok ok so here's my #RomComChallenge entry for @sorchathered's Birthday Rom Com Challenge. It was based (loosely) on My Big Fat Greek Wedding, and in my head, the Seresin Family is very similar to the Portokalos Family - they're big, they're loud, they're very traditional. And Jake is bringing his girlfriend (of 6 months) home to meet them, for his sisters wedding. I wasn't too sure where I was going with this at first, but then I found some common themes, and that's when I added the quotes from the movie. It's just a lot of fluff, So...here you go! OH! I also threw in a little head canon of mine, involving a relationship with Hangman and someone from TG '86, let me know if you spot it and the references!

Happy Birthday Sarah! I hope you like it!

“My family is big and loud but they're my family.”

Jake stared at the invitation in his hands. His sister’s wedding was only a month away and he had gotten the text last night that read “Jake, need to know if you’re bringing a plus 1 to the wedding - gotta send in the final numbers”  He hadn’t texted back yet, because he hadn’t yet told you about it, nor had you met his family. His giant, very southern, very traditional family. He ran a hand through his hair, unsure if that was even close to an appropriate place to introduce a girlfriend, albeit that you two had been dating for almost 5 months. You were on your way over, he had dinner in the oven and he was ridiculously nervous. It was now or never.

The doorbell ringing shook him out of his internal debate and he set the invitation on the counter, before making his way to the foyer and letting you in “hey doll” he pecked your lips sweetly “hi, I brought wine” you held up a nice bottle that you’d gotten from someone as a gift and never drank. You followed Jake into the kitchen, while he grabbed the bottle opener you picked two wine glasses from the cabinet and set them on the island, in sight of the wedding invitation. “What’s this? An invite?” You picked it up to read the details, completely missing the slight look of panic across your boyfriend’s face. “Uhh yeah, my sister's wedding is next month, and I’ll be going home for that week…” he nervously rubbed the back of his neck as your big eyes met his, he knew you loved weddings, and parties and getting dolled up but he was nervous to bring you home, not because he didn’t think his family would approve, in fact it was the exact opposite. They would love you, so much so he was a little concerned they would scare you away.

His family could be a little overbearing. There were a lot of them, he was the oldest of 4 and the only boy, his mom had two sisters and a brother, and his dad was one of 6 kids, Not to mention his nan and pops. It was overwhelming on a regular family holiday, factor in a wedding where all of his cousins would be there too? He was sure some of the guys would hit on you, and the girls could just be, well, a lot. “Oh” you tried to hide the slight disappointment in your voice, you’d only been together a short while, surely he had a good reason for not telling you about it until now. It didn’t make it past him though, he saw the flash of disappointment cross your face, and he was over to you in less than a second, taking your hand and cupping your cheek to meet his eyes “I invited you over to ask if you would consider coming with me, but you should be warned. My family is big, and loud, and overbearing and I have a lot of cousins” you cut him off by pressing a kiss to his lips “I would love to come with you, but only if you really want me to” A smile reaches Jake’s lips as he rests his hands on your waist “yes, I definitely do, just don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

~~

You’re luckily able to work remotely on the week of the wedding. You were currently wearing one of Jake’s Top Gun sweatshirts and curled up with your head on his shoulder as he quizzed you on his family tree. “Tommy, Samantha and Peter are whose kids?” You closed your eyes, racking your brain through what you already knew “Your uncle Ron’s kids, uncle Ron is your mom’s brother” Jake nodded proudly “yes, exactly” Your eyes fell closed for a brief moment as the altitude lowered and you prepared for landing. “Jake, you don’t have to quiz me, I’ll be fine.” Jake pressed a kiss to the top of your head “I know, and I’m glad you’re with me, I think I’m more nervous than anything…'' Before he could finish his thought, the pilot came on the system, announcing to prepare for landing. You shifted back to your own seat and buckled your belt. Peeking out your window, you saw the ground approaching rapidly - no turning back now. 

Jake grabbed your bags as soon as he spotted them on the carousel and held your hand leading you out of the baggage claim section “so, I think my dad is picking us up” you nodded, wishing you could have at least changed out of his sweatshirt to meet any member of his family “ok I guess, they do have uber in Texas don’t they?” He simply chuckled, as he led you out to the arrival section. “Jake!” “There they are!” “Oh they look so cute together!” were the first things you heard, as you saw a group of what was certainly Seresin family members waiting for you. An older man who was no doubt Jake’s dad, was smiling the same eye crinkling smile you’ve seen many times on your boyfriend’s face, an older woman, sporting a beaming grin, blonde hair and the same blueish green eyes that you looked into on an almost daily basis, alongside two younger women, whom you assumed were Jake’s sisters. Now you really wish you had the opportunity and foresight to change into something nicer before leaving the plane. 

“Momma” Jake hugged the older woman first, and then his dad, who patted him on the back, followed by his sisters, then he turned to you. “sweetheart, these are my parents, Annie and John, my younger sister, Callie, and my youngest sister Lisa.” You smiled shyly and held out your hand to his mom “Mrs Seresin, it’s so nice to finally meet you” Annie laughed and opened her arms to pull you into a hug “I’m a hugger, dear, and Mrs Seresin is my mother in law. Please call me Annie or momma, whatever works.” You blushed and nodded, and then were enveloped into a hug by his sister “it’s about time he brought you home! Everyone is waiting at home, they’re so excited to meet you.” Jake’s eyes widened “everyone?” Callie laughed as she linked her arm through yours “of course big brother, what else did you expect?” 

“There are three things that every (Greek) woman must do in life: marry (Greek) boys, make (Greek) babies, and feed everyone.”

The ride to Jake’s family ranch was filled with the family discussing wedding plans. As you sat in the back quietly taking everything in, Jake seemed to be quite tense beside you. You slipped your hand in his “what’s wrong?” You whispered, he turned to look at you “my whole family is at the ranch, I just…. I’m worried, it’s going to be a lot.” You smiled softly, giving his hand a gentle squeeze “I’ll be fine.” 

As the truck pulled into the ranch, you almost gasped in shock at how many other vehicles were there. Some of the family was outside on the porch, and some kids in the backyard playing games. As John pulled the truck to a stop and you got out, you heard someone from inside the house yell “they’re here!” Jake shot you an apologetic smile, while giving your hand a squeeze “I’ll be right there the whole time.” He exited the truck and jogged around to open the door for you, taking your hand and helping you step down, just as what seemed to be a flood of people approached. Jake was enveloped in hugs and kisses from his other sister, Julia, and his various aunts, while his mom stood next to you making introductions. There were so many names and you were swept into hugs and kisses by all the ladies, that is, until a voice rang out from somewhere at the back of the crowd. “Where is my handsome grandson!?” The crowd of family seemingly parted, making way for an elderly lady with gray hair and big glasses, wearing a flowery dress with an apron overtop. She moved through the crowd towards you and Jake, stopping just in front of the two of you, a big beaming smile on her face “Jacob!” She pulled him into a big hug, and pat his back “Hi Nana” She cupped his face and pinched his cheeks “you need to eat more, now, where is this girlfriend I’ve heard you brought to meet us?” Your eyes widened and you stood up a little straighter, a pink blush rising to your cheeks, as all the sets of eyes turned to you, and Jake stepped aside to reveal you to his grandmother. She approached you slowly, taking in your appearance and leaned her head to one side “oh she’s darling, Jacob” She reaches for your hand, linking it around her arm and patting the top of it “come on inside dear, I want to hear all about you”. She led you through the throng of family members, Jake following closely behind with the bags, but not before getting a knowing look from his mother.

“You better get married soon. You're starting to look... old!”

The week with Jake’s family went by in a blur. It was full of family dinners and wedding planning. While the boys went to watch football, you volunteered to assist tying bows on favors, and while this was happening, Jake’s mom, aunts and sisters, bombarded you with questions getting to know you. You answered each one in kind, all the while Jake’s grandmother sat silently at the end of the table, a small smile ever present on her face. Before you knew it, it was the day of the wedding. Annie had roped you into getting your hair done with all the girls at the salon, so when Jake kissed you bright and early in the morning to say goodbye while he went to get ready with the boys, you got up as well. Pulling on a pair of shorts and a button up shirt - so as not to ruin your hair when it was done - you made your way down to the kitchen. As you came down the stairs, you heard the hustle and bustle of voices and excitement. You hesitantly opened the door and everyone froze, then cheered and someone handed you a mimosa, you would think that you were the bride if you didn’t know any better. Once everyone had finished their coffees and mimosas, all the women loaded up into multiple vehicles and headed for the hair salon. 

“So Jake, when are you gonna ask that girl to marry you and have all this hullabaloo for yourself?” his cousin Peter asked, as he held up a beer to his lips. Jake shook his head but smiled softly to himself as he worked on folding pocket squares for the boys, but avoiding an answer. His uncle Ron, chuckled “You better make a decision or come up with an answer when your grandma asks you the same thing boy, it’s about time you settle down and have a few kids too.” Jake just shook his head “it’s not all about that, but we’ve only been together for barely 6 months.” Uncle Ron patted his back a little harder than necessary “you’re a smart man, and a good pilot, you know when to take the shot.” shooting Jake a wink, before leaving the room to the younger boys.

"Are you kidding? Any second now he's gonna look at me and go, 'Ha. Yeah, right, you're so not worth this.'" "Yes, you are."

You felt gorgeous, your hair was done perfectly to your inspiration photo and your dress fit like a glove. But somehow, the butterflies were still wreaking havoc in your stomach and you hoped that the nerves would dissipate with time. You made your way downstairs to the living room, where the rest of the aunts, uncles and cousins were waiting for Julia to come down. You helped yourself to a glass of the punch, and nearly choked when you realized how much alcohol had been put into it, but you drank it anyway, hoping to keep the nerves at bay. 

When it was time for the ceremony, you sat with the bride’s side, with aunts and cousins that you’d only just met, and while they welcomed you with open arms, You felt ridiculously out of place. Your family was tiny in comparison, both your parents being only children, and all the traditions you’d been witnessing this past week, you didn’t have any of them as far as you knew. If you did marry Jake, even though you’d only been dating a short time, you knew it would be just this big, if not bigger with him being the eldest boy. You let your mind wander to what it would be like, so much so that you almost missed the doors opening and ceremony beginning. 

"Why?... Why do you love me?" "Because I came alive when I met you"

Jake held your hand as you sat at the table at the reception. By now the couple had been pronounced, dinner had been eaten, and cake had been cut. The party was about to really begin but he could tell you still seemed anxious. “Darlin’ do you want to tell me what’s wrong?” You looked at him with wide eyes “Nothing! Everything has been so beautiful, and I’m so full.” He raised an eyebrow that told you he wasn’t buying a word and you sighed, turning your attention to your now very interesting napkin, “I just got to thinking about what it would be like if we were to get married…” if he was surprised (he wasn’t) he didn’t show it. Before he was able to respond, all three of his sisters came over to you and grabbed your hands, one handing you a drink while simultaneously pulling you to the dance floor. They taught you the basics of a line dance, and Jake sat there with a whisky in his hands, watching his family including you like one of their own. That was when he was sure he was going to marry you, and soon. 

--

THE END x

[aemondsbabe]

From Ashes, Fire | Claimant Pt 3

summary: dragons take what they want, you and your brother are no different. but what will be left to burn in the name of happiness?

pairing: dark!aemond x sister!reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, dark aemond, angst, angst but happy ending, very cersei/jaime coded moment that's all i'll say, major character death, noncanonical death, very brief descriptions of injury, blood, i promise it's nothing graphic, reader turns to the dark side lol, piv sex, unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), minor breeding kink, possessive aemond, possessive reader, let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 8.3k oops

a/n: this is it, the grand finale! i had so much fun with this series and i hope y'all enjoy the last bit!

gif creds to @aemondtargaryensource

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

🔪read part 1 and part 2 here!

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"Love is the bane of honor, the death of duty."

“Jaehaera, please,” Helaena’s voice is gentle and melodic even as she scolds her daughter, pointing at one of the straw-stuffed dolls in her tiny hands, “You must share with your brother; how about you let him play with the knight, hm?”

One of Maelor’s little fists wraps tightly around your pointer finger as you chuckle at the displeased frown on the toddler’s face when she shoves the doll in Jaehaerys’s direction, though her lips quickly lift into a smile at her mother’s praise. 

“Good, that’s very sweet of you,” your sister smiles, watching her eldest two children play, sitting cross-legged beside them on the plush blanket she’d had spread out on the grass. 

A cool breeze blows through the grassy field while you idly look around at the many red tents and campfires, observing the groups of people gathered around – knights sat at one of the many wooden tables, a few servants peel vegetables brought from the Keep, and various nobles, lady’s maids, and other court patrons shuffle about. 

Taking a deep breath, you turn your face toward the sun, cooler now as day turns to evening, and savor the first moment of peace you’ve had in nearly a week. The days since your marriage to Jace have been… eventful, to say the least, with each new duty feeling like another stab to your already fragile heart. Respite hadn’t even found you in the night, each one spent fending off your new husband’s advances with excuses of your menstrual flux having come early, headaches, and various other ailments. He was getting anxious, you could tell – each night he pushed back a little more, arguing the importance of consummating the marriage, reminding you of the vows you had both uttered in the Sept. 

But how can a vow mean much if the Gods know it was only ever a lie?

You had felt your mother’s eyes on you at every turn, watching you and your brother like a hawk. Though as the days progressed her fiery stare cooled to one of guilt – a penance for subjecting you to the same fate that had befallen her. You suspected that was why she and Rhaenyra had organized this little trip; a celebratory hunt they’d called it, to commemorate the rift between your two families finally being healed. 

“Dear, dear wife,” your oldest brother slurs, goblet clutched in one hand as he staggers toward you and Helaena, groaning when he flops down on the bench next to you. “Oh, you look… ravishing,” your lips quirk up into a smirk as he drapes an arm around your shoulders, giggling and making faces at Maelor. 

“What did I tell you,” your sister says through a huff of laughter, violet eyes finding yours, “They ignore you until they’re drunk.”

If only that were the case, you think as you force yourself to laugh in time with her. 

“That is quite rude,” Aegon chastises, brows furrowed in offense while he takes a messy swig of wine, a few red drops run down his chin. “Do you see how she treats me?” He pouts, leaning closer to you with a wry grin, “The deed is done though, yes? Bastard knew where to put it?”

“Aegon!” Helaena hisses, swatting at his knee. 

The two fall into a playful round of bickering, thankfully leaving you out of it. With a sigh, you let your gaze wander again, tumbling thoughts muffling your siblings voices. 

“It’s not as hard as it looks, here,” Daemon’s voice catches your attention and you watch as he points a knife at the belly of a deer he and Lucerys had hunted earlier in the day, showing the boy where to cut, “Get your knife in there – good, like that, and now just cut downwards, one clean movement…” You glance away as blood spills from the beast’s abdomen, staining the grass below it.

Looking over the treeline, you try to ignore the sick feeling building in the pit of your stomach, though you know it won’t be settled until Aemond’s back at camp. Biting at your lip, you let out an irritated huff when you can’t make out any movement in the distance, no sign of your brother or Ser Criston, even your husband. 

You’d only spoken to Aemond once since your marriage – a hushed conversation hidden away in an alcove when the two of you had a spare moment alone after supper. He’d held you while you’d cried against the crook of his neck, shushing you and running a soothing hand up and down your back. You remember the way his jaw felt, teeth clenched as he rested it atop your head, letting you tuck yourself into him while he vibrated with barely contained rage. 

“I can’t do this, I can’t,” you lamented, peering up at him with a mournful sob as your fingers clung to the dark jacket he wore, “They’re planning on going back to Dragonstone! Dragonstone, Aem!”

“Shh, little one,” his hands had cupped your cheeks, wiped away your tears with calloused thumbs, “I’m not letting them take you.”

His words had held such conviction, you’d wanted nothing more than to believe him, yet you’d shaken your head anyway. “I don’t think there’s any stopping them, this time,” your breath had hitched with each word, “You heard Rhaenyra, they’re leaving as soon as we’re back from the hunt and she would never agree to leave Jacaerys here, never.” 

You had known you were spiraling, head spinning as you’d looked up at him, and yet the words tumbled out anyway. “I hate him, I wish he’d just… just disappear!” It was a childish little jab and yet, your heart had leapt into your throat the moment you’d said it. You were expecting to feel the clawing ache of guilt gnaw at your stomach, however, a weightlessness followed. You’d never felt lighter than in that moment – tucked away in the shadows, a secret you’d harbored since childhood finally set free.

Aemond had stayed quiet, but you saw the way his violet eye sparkled, the gears turning in his head.

Your words had echoed in his head, calling out to him like a siren’s song – the sweetest sound he’d ever heard. 

Finally convinced that the three men are truly not just going to materialize at the edge of camp, your gaze shifts to where your mother and Rhaenyra sit, huddled together beside one of the many firepits. Bouncing little Maelor on your lap, you’re vaguely aware of Aegon and Helaena idly chatting beside you, something to do with how your brother believes some such thing about the Small Council is a waste of time – a frequent complaint of his since taking the throne. 

You’re hardly listening though, head cocked to the side while you watch the two women laughing and animatedly conversing; they remind you of the young girls at court – youthful and carefree, too wrapped up in one another to notice much around them. 

That’s why she let them go together, that shadowy voice in the back of your head hisses, Too distracted to know better. You clench your jaw, only halfway aware of the stinging pain at your cuticle as you dig a nail into it.

“What say you to accompanying me on a hunt, nephew?” Aemond had asked earlier in the afternoon, voice low as he slunk over to where you, Jace, and your mothers had been sitting at one of the wooden tables, picking through a light lunch the cooks at the Keep had prepared.

“Aemond,” Alicent had sighed wearily, leaning heavily on her elbows while Rhaenyra regarded your brother with a cool indifference – evidently unaware of your family’s tensions. 

“What? I merely wish to bond with my dearest sister’s new husband.”

“Uncle,” Jace had finally spoken up, pointedly grasping one of your hands that had sat on the table, “As much as I would love to accompany you, don’t you think it a bit unwise for only the two of us to go? If I remember correctly from my youth, your father used to take a whole host of men into the woods with him…” 

“Do you not think yourself man enough to take on a measly buck, nephew?”

“Aemond!”

“Don’t fret, mother. ‘Twas only a joke, a tasteless one, I admit,” your hackles had raised at that, at how quickly he had stood down, so wholly unlike your brother, “Besides, I’ve taken the liberty of asking Ser Criston to accompany us as well.”

It was then, at the mention of the knight, that Rhaenyra had leaned closer to Alicent, the two of them laughing softly and sharing knowing glances while your half-sister whispered into her ear. 

“Surely the three of us are more than capable of subduing a deer or two, don’t you think?” 

Jace had balked at that, sighing heavily as his grip on your hand tightened ever so slightly. 

“I think it sounds like a wonderful idea,” you had coached your lips into a tight smile when you interjected, “Doesn’t that sound like a lovely idea, mother?”

“Hm?” She had blinked, finally parting from Rhaenyra, the ghost of a smile still on her lips. 

“For Ser Criston to accompany Jace and Aemond, to go hunting with them.”

“Well, I –”

“Surely that would be safest, yes?” You pushed, glancing at Jace before locking eyes with Aemond, “A knight with them, a Kingsguard no less.” 

“I think it sounds like a fine idea,” Rhaenyra had smiled, squeezing one of your mother’s hands, “They should take the time to bond, no? Savor it while we’re together these last few days.” 

“Yes… yes, a fine idea,” she had immediately agreed, always swaying to your half-sister. 

“Wonderful,” your brother murmured, a slow smile spreading across his lips as he clasped his arms behind his back, “I’ll have Ser Criston ready the horses.” With that, he had stalked away, giving you one final glance. 

“You truly think this a good idea?” Your husband had questioned, turning to you while your mothers got lost in yet another hushed conversation.

“Of course!” You had nodded, clasping one of his hands in both of yours, “Aemond is… odd with his affections. This is just his way of attempting to rectify things, I’m sure of it.” 

“I suppose…,” he had sighed, running a hand through his dark hair.

“It’ll be fine,” you had urged, going so far as to lean over and press a kiss against his cheek, one of the scant few times you had initiated any affections. 

Those words had echoed in your head while you watched the three men sheath their swords and load various bows and arrows onto their horses, the midday sun suddenly feeling much too warm against your skin. 

It’ll be fine, you had reminded yourself for the millionth time when they set off, horses galloping along a narrow path that led into the Kingswood, He’s not letting them take me, it’ll be fine. 

“Oh, shit,” Aegon whispers beside you, nearly dropping his goblet. 

You quickly follow his eyeline, looking to where he stares at one of the small paths that lead into the camp – the sight wrenching a hitched gasp from your throat. 

A hush seems to fall over the entirety of the camp, only for the quickest of seconds, before chaos erupts. Aemond stands before one of the horses, a grey one you recognize as Jace’s, steadying it while Criston pulls your husband from the saddle, smearing the side of the animal with thick streaks of red. 

Daemon quickly runs over to assist while you hastily hand Maelor back to Helaena, hardly looking in her direction as you do. 

“Jace? Jacaerys?!” Rhaenyra calls, picking up her skirts as she sprints over, violet eyes wide with terror, “What is it? What’s happened?”

Every noise sounds muffled when you make your way over to the huddle of commotion, Alicent following closely behind. A strange detached sensation fills you while you watch Criston and Daemon lay Jace down on a nearby bench, blood immediately soaking into the silk fabric of the pillows. 

It feels as if everything is happening both too quickly and too slowly all at once – a few of the other knights rush forward, hastily pulling his tunic out of the way before pressing stark white medical linens to the gaping cut on his side. They bark orders over his body, yelling for the servants to bring water and more linens. 

You feel your mother and Helaena grabbing at your arms and it’s only then you realize you’re shaking, swaying in place like a leaf on a branch; you know they’re talking to you but their words are dulled by the rushing of blood in your ears.

Somewhere in your periphery, you register the sound of Daemon’s voice, thick with desperation as he shouts question after question at Criston, “What happened? When? How? How long ago? How could you, you were supposed to protect him?!” They blend together, echoing through the haze in a roaring hum. 

Distantly, you register the feel of another warm body pressing into the small pack you find yourself a part of. Helaena shushes someone next to you and your gaze tears itself away from the pools of crimson gathering on the grass just long enough to realize that it’s Luke. Your heart breaks at that, a sharp pang in your chest at the fact that the poor boy is distressed enough to seek comfort from your family, of all places. 

“No! No, no, no!” Rhaenyra’s wails slice through the fog clouding your mind in such an exacting manner that your knees buckle, “Jace, Jace, look at me, please? Sweetling, please look at me!” She sobs, leaning over her son, one hand cradling his cheek. 

Unseeing brown eyes stare, unblinking, up at the hazy orange sky while yours focus solely on a single, paralyzing flash of violet. 

He’s not letting them take me, it’ll be fine. 

The Sept is eerily quiet, normal for this time of night but unsettling all the same; the occasional fizzling noises of the dozens of flickering candles is the only way you’re able to discern that time hasn’t simply halted. Pale moonlight shines in through the windows, bathing the floor in a star-shaped pool of light and making the whites of the painted eyes resting atop Jace’s face glow like beacons. 

You had picked out the stones and painted the eyes on them yourself, taking them from a spot in the gardens you knew he had favored when you were children and spent hours sourcing the pigments to make just the right shade of brown – one that reminded you of the rich chocolates that had been imported from Essos for your betrothal feast. 

“A wife’s duty,” your mother had said.

Rhaenyra had glared at you the whole time; silently, you wondered if she somehow knew it wasn’t duty that drove you – only atonement. 

Atonement, your mind echoes as you sit upon the cool stone steps beneath the Seven-Pointed Star, leaning your head against the bannister as you force yourself to look at his body, still atop black silks. 

Must one feel guilt to atone? Must I atone for not feeling it? When will it end?

Those questions had plagued you in the days since Jace died, bled out like a hunter’s boon in the field by the Kingswood. They’d settled over you like a fever, an ever-present haunting ache, made only worse by the soft, sinful voice in the back of your head that whispered the truth – that you didn’t care, that you don’t even now. 

You hadn’t cared, even as blood seeped from the gash at his side, even as you forced yourself to kneel by his still warm body and press gentle kisses to his forehead – the performance of a good wife. 

You hadn’t cared in the carriage ride back to the Keep, letting your mother and your sister hold you while you cried – I’m sad, I’m sad, I’m crying because I’m sad, I’m crying because I should be sad.

And you hadn’t cared when Aemond had come to you in the dead of night, had slipped into your chambers – your chambers – through one of the many hidden passageways in the old castle. 

“How?” You had asked, tracing patterns onto the pale skin of his bare chest while the two of you laid tangled in your silk sheets. 

“A boar,” he answered plainly, speaking through a sigh while running his fingers over the thigh you had draped across his hips, “Just as I’ve told you the last four times you’ve asked.”

“Aemond,” you sighed in that same tired tone your mother so often used; your eyes had narrowed when you saw the corner of his lips just barely twitch up into a smile; were it any other time, he would’ve made a cheeky comment about the similarity. 

“I’ve told you,” his grip tightened ever so slightly on your thigh and his other hand had grasped at your chin, guiding your eyes to his, “We had been tracking a buck, had gotten close and dismounted our horses, and had, I assume, stumbled into the beast’s territory and it charged at us.”

“Brother,” you had whispered, shaking your head and cupping his cheek, “Have you forgotten that I can tell when you lie?” 

He had stayed silent for a long while at that, jaw clenched while he stared at some point off in the distance, lips drawn into a tight line. Eventually, you had laid your head down, resting your cheek on his shoulder while you tried to accept that you wouldn’t be getting the truth that night, if ever.

It was only then that he had spoken.

“Please, let me protect you.” 

“Protect me?” You had looked up, brows furrowed as you studied his face, “From what?”

“From the law –”

“Our brother is king, if he says it was not murder, if he says it was an accident, which he already has done, then no one will question his –”

“Fine, then,” he had snapped, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, “From the damn Gods! I…” He trailed off, sighing heavily while he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“... the Gods?”

He’d finally looked at you again and your heart had pinched meanly in your chest when you saw tears gathering in his violet eye, “They will judge me harshly for what I’ve done, whenever the time comes, but… I will not subject you to the same fate.”

You had scoffed at that, had rolled your eyes when he looked away shamefully and had climbed atop him then, straddled his hips and turned his face toward yours, “I don’t give a shit about the Gods.” 

“What?”

“I don’t,” you repeated, leaning down until your forehead touched his, “If they were good Gods, if they cared, they would not have subjected me to that sham of a marriage in the first place. They would’ve guided our mother rightly, but they didn’t.”

“Sister, I –”

“And I hate that our nephew paid for that, Aemond, I truly do, but I am the one who told you to do it.”

He had shaken his head while a mournful peal of laughter clawed its way out of his throat, “You didn’t tell me to do any–”

“Perhaps not directly,” you interjected, smiling sadly while you cupped both of his cheeks in your hands, running a thumb over the scar beneath his eye, “But I did. I could’ve told you not to, could’ve said I didn’t mean it, could’ve cautioned our mother against letting him go with you, but… I didn’t.”

“No… no, I suppose you didn’t,” he sighed, swallowing thickly as he tried in vain to blink away tears.

“I didn’t,” you echoed, your words hushed and cooed, like a mother soothing an infant, “I know what you’re capable of, I knew it then, and I didn’t.”

He nodded, his breath stuttered in his throat as a single tear rolled down his cheek. 

“Because I knew you’d protect me… and you did.” 

“I did,” he mumbled, nodding up at you as his face twisted and a small sob bubbled from his lips, “I did, I did it. I did it, I did. For you, for us.” 

“I know,” you murmured sweetly, stroking a hand over his long hair while you pressed sweet kisses against his forehead. You held him as he cried, huddled together in the dark of your chambers 

And you hadn’t cared when you realized you were smiling. 

“The hour is quite late, little one,” the suddenness of his voice makes you jump, though you settle quickly. 

“So it is,” you smile and look over your shoulder, tilting your head up while he walks down the steps to join you, “The hour of ghosts, yes? Fitting.” 

He huffs as he sits beside you before regarding you with a slight smirk, “I suppose it is,” he murmurs, only sparing the red and black draped body on the altar a passing glance.

“Why are you here?”

“I was looking for you… Hel said you would probably be here.”

“Mm,” you nod, idly running a finger over the pattern on your skirts, finding a morbid sort of beauty in the way the rich black silks glimmered in the candlelight. 

“Why are you here?” Aemond asks, eye following the line of your profile. 

“Praying.”

Without looking, you can practically feel him rolling his eye beside you, huffing a little breathy laugh again, “Have you forgotten that I can tell when you lie, sweet sister?”

Hearing your own words from the night before parroted back to you pulls a laugh from you as well, though you wince as your giggle echoes throughout the Sept. “It’s funny,” you sigh, glancing about the cavernous space before finally looking at him, “This is the only place where no one wants to be.” 

He hums next to you and nods his head, lets the two of you sit in silence for a moment before you continue. 

“I don’t have to pretend when I’m here.” 

“Pretend?” 

Biting at your bottom lip, you nod and lean into his touch when he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “That I’m sad… that I feel anything, really,” you sigh, breathing the words more so than saying them, “All Rhaenyra does is cry, Daemon is ready to strangle anything that moves, Lucerys is despondent to the point of being mute. Even our own mother cries for him and I cannot muster a single tear that isn’t a farce.”

Your eyes trail back over to Jace and you regard him with a mournful stare, staying silent for a long moment as you try to will yourself to feel sad, to feel angry, to feel guilty… yet nothing comes.

“Everyone grieves differently,” Aemond mumbles beside you, though his words only serve to make you more bitter, “Perhaps, in time –”

“In time nothing will happen,” you snap, grimacing at the harshness in your voice, “I’m not sad and I am… I’m tired of pretending I am.” You murmur, leaning your head on his shoulder. 

Aemond is quiet for a long while, though you can feel the energy radiating off of him in waves – you’ve always been able to tell when he has a lot on his mind. You’re content to simply let him think, taking his silence as a cue that it’s your turn to let him sort through things. 

“You… are happy, though? Yes?” He finally asks after several long minutes, going strangely rigid next to you as if he’s afraid of your answer, “I know you say you aren’t sad but…”

“Aemond,” you sigh, sitting up and staring at him as a slow, creeping smile spreads across your face, “I have never been happier.”

“Truly?”

“Yes!” You quickly shift yourself on the stairs, turning yourself more toward him and placing a gentle hand on top of his thigh, “Big brother, you saved me.”

He opens his mouth to speak but you don’t let him get a word in edgewise before the emotions you’ve been bottling up over the last few days finally spill over and you practically throw yourself into his lap, straddling his hips. 

“Brother, I've been tethered to him since I was eight and you have freed me from that,” you say softly, voice hardly carrying in the air. Slowly, carefully you pull his eyepatch off, the only one ever allowed to do so; there is a sadness in your smile when you gently trail your fingers over the crease of his scar, “We both lost something that night and have suffered for it ever since.”

Without another word, you press your lips to his and savor the groan your kiss pulls from him. His hands grab at your hips in the same instance yours card through his hair while your lips move together in a practiced rhythm. 

Impatient, one of your hands travels down his chest and stomach, though you hardly have time to pull at the hem of his dark tunic before he grabs your wrist, stopping you. 

“Aemond,” you huff, fighting against his grip. 

“Surely you don’t mean to defile this place in such a way,” he murmurs, violet eye sparkling as if he were challenging you, even as he glances over your shoulder, “What would your dear husband think?

You grin at the lecherous smirk on his lips, heart pounding in your chest as a familiar ache settles at the apex of your thighs. You give one final glance over your shoulder before turning back to him with a dismissive shrug. “Husband in name only,” you remind him, yanking your hand out of his grasp and trailing your fingers over the growing bulge beneath his trousers, “I have only ever been devoted to you.”

A rough growl leaves his lips and he clenches his jaw, narrowing his eye. “We will burn for this, sweet sister,” he huffs, pale cheeks flushing while he stares up at you, one hand still settled on your hip as the other comes up to cup your jaw. 

“The Seven can have their say,” your cunt clenches at the way he looks at you – surprise, lust, even reverence giving such an intensity to his gaze that it nearly knocks the wind from your lungs, “The Old Valyrian Gods can as well, I don’t care. Aemond, I don’t.”

Your hand finally, blessedly, pulls free the ties at the top of his trousers and you quickly find his length. The sharp grunt that’s wrenched from his throat when your hand wraps around it echoes through the Sept, each iteration of it making the fire in your belly burn brighter and brighter. 

He doesn’t attempt to stop you when you plunge a hand beneath the fabric of your black skirts and hastily tug your smallclothes out of the way, he merely studies you in awe, as if watching a newly hatched dragon spread its wings for the first time. His gaze makes you shiver, though you dare not look away.

“What do you care about, little one?” He murmurs suddenly, unable to help himself from glancing between your bodies, licking his lips while he watches you use your fingers to prepare yourself as you rub your own slick through your folds. 

“You,” you whisper, shuddering at the way you both gasp at the same time when you rut against his already throbbing length, “You are the only god I’ve ever worshiped, big brother.”

A loud groan bursts free of his lips at that and the hunger in his eye nearly catches you alight, and yet he still grabs at your hips tightly, preventing you from sinking onto his length – so out of his element, wholly unused to being taken in such a way. “Come, let us go to my chambers,” he tries, breathing your name against your neck as he leans up, “Where I can take you properly, hm? No risk of anyone interrupting…”

Undeterred, you simply shake your head and lean forward, pressing your lips against his in an eager, near feral kiss. It’s mostly teeth and tongues and thankfully, it’s enough to shock him into loosening his grip, just enough for you to take what you want. You bite at his bottom lip when you sink down onto his length, hard enough to taste iron, making him growl into the kiss, the sound of it deepening to a low groan at the feel of your tight cunt around him. 

The feel of his cock stretching you open somehow only gets better each time and leaves you gasping in his lap, your hands grabbing at his shoulders for leverage while you begin grinding yourself against him, impatient and ravenous. “Ohh, f-fuck,” you curse, squeezing your eyes shut while your walls flutter around him. 

Aemond’s chest heaves under your hands while he stares up at you, lips parted ever so slightly as breathy groans spill, unbidden, from them. Opening your eyes, your gaze is immediately drawn to a little smear of red beside his mouth and you lean forward – licking his pale skin clean without a second thought. 

“Little minx,” he smirks, meanly grabbing at your hips again and bucking up into you. He huffs a soft laugh at the sharp moan that bursts from you, sounding louder still in the large open space of the Sept; there’s a dangerous, challenging gleam in his eye that makes you shiver. “Go on, then,” he rasps, trailing a hand up from your hip to cup the underside of your breast, his touch warm even through the bodice of your gown, “Worship your god.”

A soft, stuttered moan wrenches itself from your lips at that and you quickly obey, staking your claim over him. As you find your rhythm, rutting wildly in his lap, the only sounds echoing off the walls are that of panted breaths and the slick, wet noises from where the two of you connect. “You’re mine,” you breathe, leaning forward to bite at his throat, determined to mark him in as many ways as possible, “Y-You’ve always been mine, Aemond.” 

He nods his head, hands scrambling at the ties on your bodice, determined to free your breasts. “I’m yours?” He taunts, sighing victoriously when he finally manages to practically rip the top of your gown open; his tongue darts out, wetting his lips at the sight of them and he allows himself a few seconds to appreciate the way they bounce so enticingly with each of your determined movements, “Show me, then… show me who I belong to, sweet sister.”

Something snaps inside you then, breaking and clicking perfectly into place all in the same breath; the feeble thing that was holding the dam inside of you shut disappears. Whatever greedy darkness Aemond has always harbored within himself has been slowly seeping into you since the night of your betrothal feast and now, it seems, it has finally settled into your bones as well. It’s as if he can sense it in the same instance you do and gives a subtle nod of his head, commanding you to give in. 

With renewed vigor, you grind against him harshly, pressing your hips as far down onto him as you can manage until you can feel his cock pressing against the entrance to your womb. The thought of him there, of the possibility of his seed catching, of the possibility that it may already have, spurs you on further. 

“I would kill for you, too,” you say lowly through clenched teeth, licking up the side of his neck until you can whisper into his ear, “I’ll do anything to have you, my love, I don’t care what it is.”

A low groan reverberates from within his chest, both of you all but snarling as you move together; his hips rut up against yours, unable to hold still any longer, and he bites a path down your neck until he reaches the softness of your breasts. You gasp as he teases at one nipple, flicking at it with the tip of his tongue while his fingers toy with the other one, only to cut yourself off with a loud moan when his lips seal around it. 

“I would burn this city to the fucking ground if that’s what… what it took, brother,” the words tumble from your lips when you card your fingers through his hair, cradling the back of his head and holding him against your chest. Your head tilts down, heart pounding in your chest while you watch him savor the feel of your warm flesh in his mouth; his violet eye snaps up and his gaze bores into yours, making your cunt clutch greedily at his length. 

Feeling the knot building quickly in your belly, aided by the way your sensitive pearl brushes against the small patch of hair at the base of Aemond’s cock, you only grow more needy – craving confirmation that he is yours, that no one will be able to take him from you again. Your breath catches in your throat when you recall a conversation the two of you had had a few nights ago, the night of Jace’s death.

The two of you had been cuddled in your bed together, panting in sweat-damp sheets, when he had cupped your cheek and turned your face to his. 

“What is it?” You asked, familiar with the faraway look in his eye – God’s knew where he could’ve been in that moment.

“Marry me.”

His whispered demand had knocked the air from your lungs then, the whole world may as well have come to a grinding halt on its axis. “Aemond, we must wait, you know this. I hate it as much as you do but –”

“We need to wait for a Westerosi wedding, yes,” he murmured, leaning over you and shushing you with a soft kiss, “Too soon and it looks suspicious.”

“But –”

“But… a wedding in the tradition of our house need not wait, little one,” the determination in his eye had shocked you then, had warmed you from the inside out, “Our sister and her cunt of a husband hardly waited until Laena and Laenor were cold before they married… we could do the same.”

You had stayed quiet after that, too much death and change and uncertainty clouding your mind to give him an answer, and yet you knew he was right. Rhaenyra and Daemon had married in secret, so soon after Laenor’s sudden passing that it had always seemed a bit odd to you. Yet, no one ever questioned it; your own father had accepted it without so much as a blink, writing the marriage into law with no fuss. Aegon would do the same for you, you felt certain. 

Nothing was stopping you, nothing that mattered, anyway. 

That thought fuels you now as you rock on Aemond’s lap, both of you barreling toward your eventual ends. Your fingers tighten in his hair, tugging him away from your breast despite his growl of displeasure. Just as he had with you, you cup his cheeks, focusing his attention on you. 

“Marry me.”

The rhythm of his hips hitches at your words and he fucks up into you harshly, moving you more desperately against him as another loud, guttural moan echoes through the chamber. 

“Tonight,” you continue, brows furrowing as you stare at him, greedily drinking him in, “I cannot wait any longer, brother, tonight, please…” 

A vicious, conquering smirk grows on his lips, white teeth gleaming in the low candlelight like a snarling dog. “You wish to be mine, is that it?” He teases, reaching between your two writhing bodies to rub hungrily at your pearl, savoring the pretty breathy moans he earns. 

You’re shaking your head before he can even finish speaking as an unrelenting, all consuming possessive ache starts spreading out from your heart, flowing through your blood vessels like fire. “I don’t wish it,” you pant, forehead resting against his while the wildfire burning in your belly threatens to burn you whole, “I told you, I would kill for you and… and, fuck, I swear it. A-Aemond, no one will have you ever again, never, none except me…”

Your words descend into a barely intelligible murmur as you finally let go, pushed suddenly over the edge at the thought of being so tightly bound together that no one would be able to tear the two of you apart again. Your brother growls again at the feel of your cunt pulsing around him, the movements spurring him toward his own end. 

He grabs at you when he follows you into oblivion, holding you against him as if you’d disappear otherwise. The feel of his spend spilling into you, filling you, nearly sends you over the edge again and you cling to him just as harshly, holding him while he trembles beneath you. 

“You are a vicious little thing,” he says softly after some minutes, holding you against his chest while the two of you catch your breaths.

“I learned from the best.”

He only sighs at that but you don’t need to look at him to know he’s smiling. “I would do it again for you,” he mumbles, eye fixed on Jace, “I would do it a thousand times over.”

He speaks in a reverent whisper, promises of death and destruction as sweet as a prayer on his lips. 

Aemond’s hand is warm in yours as he leads you through the winding corridors below the Red Keep, the flickering light from the torches lining the walls making the various statues and reliefs dance in your periphery. 

“I’ve always hated that he’s down here, stowed away,” he murmurs, yet his voice still carries some among the stone hallways.

“Mm,” you hum in agreement, glancing into each shadowy alcove you come across while you try to ignore the wild beating in your chest – the way your heart clenches at the thought of finally being so close to what you’ve always wanted. “Yes, he should be out in the sun, somewhere he can be celebrated.”

The old cellars under the Keep have always seemed so haunting to you, so cold and empty. The thought of the walls down here being lined with the ashen remains of generations upon generations of your ancestors had never failed to send a shiver down your spine. Yet, they unfold before you now like paradise; even the still, musty air begins to smell as sweet as honeyed wine. 

For the briefest of seconds, guilt joins you – walks alongside you, invisible like the Stranger. A stuttered heartbeat, that’s all and then it’s gone, at the thought that Jace would join them tomorrow, still warm from Vermax’s fire. 

How ironic, you think, glancing up at your brother and admiring the way the light gleams on his sapphire eye, That a place that holds so much death would be where our lives finally begin.

“I don’t want to wait any longer,” you’d said again, retying your bodice while Aemond tucked himself back into his trousers and searched for his eyepatch.

“Nor do I,” he agreed, stuffing the small scrap of fabric into a pocket – the streets of King’s Landing would be deserted enough at this time of night that he could get away without wearing it. “Tensions are bound to rise after tomorrow, after everything is said and done; I don’t want to leave anything to chance.”

You had nodded and followed him out of the Sept, through one of the many old, forgotten tunnels that only a scant few knew existed, the list of which definitely didn’t include the guards stationed at the front of the building who had escorted your carriage earlier that evening. 

While he had helped you onto the back of his horse, the two of you shared a knowing look, each of you already thinking the same thing. 

Turning down one final corridor, your heart thuds in your chest as you’re finally met with Balerion’s petrifying gaze and, just like every other time you’d been in his presence, a little huff of reverence leaves you. Your eyes dance over the rows of his razor sharp teeth, gleaming in the glow of dozens of candles, and you can’t help but imagine the horrors those jaws have inflicted, the pain they wrought while subduing the continent – all in your family’s name. 

“Targaryens have always taken what we’ve wanted,” Aemond murmurs beside you, staring up at the gargantuan skull with just as much respect as you are, “Tamed our desires in fields of fire.”

“And rivers of blood,” you turn your heads at the same time, soft smiles on your lips when your eyes meet, like you’re sharing sweet words of love rather than painting pictures of horrors. 

Perhaps that is what wrath is for us, you wonder, your eyes flicking between violet and sapphire when you turn toward your brother, What is death if not the sweetest of devotions?

He takes your hands in his, glancing down when your fingers intertwine before looking back up at you; you can feel yourself blushing under his intense gaze, heart squeezing in your chest as he looks at you like that in and of itself is an honor. There’s such softness in his eye, you would think him incapable of violence if you didn’t know better. 

“You truly wish for this?” He questions one last time, needing to be sure. 

“I’ve told you, I do not wish,” your hands squeeze his, “I need this, Aemond… I would kill for you, for this – for us. Anything, just as you did.” 

Your voice trembles when you speak, the intensity of your hushed promises making your head spin because you would. The want you feel, that you have always felt, is not some soft yearning thing. It’s not so simple as some mere whisper uttered in the dead of night at a holy altar while your skin is awash with the glow of candlelight, no. 

No, your want is something far more insidious – something deep-seated. An oppressive, clinging thing that has always coaxed you further and further down into that shadowy part of yourself; the part that has always reminded you too much of him. 

The demon, lurking in your periphery, that has always begged you to look, has tempted you since childhood with the sweetest of promises, finally rejoices. 

Aemond nods, a satisfied smile pulling at the corner of his lips, and you watch as he lets go of one of your hands to unsheath his dagger. The sight of the worn leather handle makes you smile bashfully, though your core clenches all the same, and you gasp when you feel another drop of his seed soak into your smallclothes. 

“You know the words?”

Again, he nods and your head cocks to the side curiously when a wash of pink grows on his pale cheeks; he smiles again and fixes you with that same intense stare. “I used to spend hours reading them, over and over, when we were children,” he whispers, leaning closer to you like he’s revealing some deep, dark secret, “I always wanted to get them perfect for you.” 

A little peal of laughter echoes through the cellars before you swallow thickly, trying to tamper the tightness at the back of your throat as the backs of your eyes sting, tears pooling in your waterline. He cups your cheek and you smile when he brushes one away, a pleased hum leaves his lips when you nod. 

Aemond raises the dagger, glancing between its shining blade and your lips while you ready yourself, one hand clenching at the black silk of your skirts. “I’ll be gentle,” he promises. 

You hold stock-still, gasping when he presses the cool edge of it against your lower lip, yet your eyes don’t leave his when he finally cuts – nicking your delicate flesh just enough to draw blood before offering you the dagger. Grasping it, you mirror his steps exactly, just as careful with him. 

Setting the dagger to the side, you both reach up at the same time, swiping a thumb over your own lip before reaching out. Your arms intertwine when you brush each other’s foreheads, leaving behind two crimson lines. 

His gaze never breaks from yours as he takes the blade again and carefully cuts his palm, holding it out to you again and waiting while you do the same, gasping at the sharp sting. Finally, the two of you join hands, blood mingling together as a few drops of it splatter on the stone floor as Balerion bears witness to your union. 

“Hen lantoti ānogar, va syndroti vāedroma, mēro perzot gīhoti, elēdroma iārza sīr,” he recites, murmuring the words with care, making sure to enunciate each syllable, to make the vows unmistakeable to whichever ghosts may be listening, “Izulī ampā perzī, prūmī lanti sēteksi, hen jeny māzīlarion,” (Blood of two, joined as one, ghostly flame, and song of shadows. Two hearts as embers, forged in fourteen fires, a future promised in glass.)

Aemond pauses, taking a breath as he squeezes your hand with his, echoing your smile.

“Qēlossa ozūndesi, syndroro ōñō jēdo, ry kīvia mazvestraksi,” he finishes, all but breathing the last few words as his eye grows misty. (The stars stand witness, the vow spoken through time, of darkness and light.)

The two of you stand still for a moment like you’re waiting for the world to crash down around you and you can feel his heart beating in time with yours as your palms press together, both of you seemingly in shock at finally, finally having everything you’ve ever wanted. 

You can’t tell who moves first but suddenly you’re crashing against him, dagger clanging as it hits the floor, while the two of you clutch at one another desperately, uncaring of the blood smearing on your clothes. 

Your lips press against his like they’re a lifeline and you moan at the touch, swiping your tongue over his while you grab at the lapels of his jacket. His hands cup your cheeks, staining one with red, before carding through your hair. 

“Gods,” he groans, resting his forehead against yours while the two of you pant, breathing out soft laughs. “My little wife…” He says the word slowly, lets it drag over his tongue. 

“Husband,” you reply between soft kisses to his cheek, head spinning at how a word that once had to be dragged from you, that had scraped against your skin like thorns, now felt like silk slipping cooly over you. 

Your brother growls deep in his chest and his eye flutters shut for a second before his hands are at your waist again and he’s walking you backwards, only a few paces, until you’re pressed against one of the stone columns surrounding the great dragon’s skull. Though your landing is soft, it wrenches a gasp from you all the same but you don’t have time to question his intent before his lips are on yours again.

You moan into the kiss, matching each of his deep groans with one of your own as your tongues tangle together. “Aemond,” you pant when he begins trailing kisses down across your jaw and neck, “What –”

He nips at your cleavage then and you can feel him smirking at the loud whine he pulls from you, soothing the skin after with a sweet kiss before sinking to his knees before you. The sight is enough to make you weak – the man that loves you more than eternity itself, who loves you enough to do terrible, monstrous things, kneeling at your feet and staring up at you like you are his salvation. 

Your hands tangle in his soft hair while he pulls at your skirts, pushing them up and out of the way, kissing your thighs as he goes. “You had the chance to worship at your altar, sweetest little wife,” he pants, groaning when he pushes your smallclothes to the side and licking his lips at the sight of your cunt, still wet with your combined spend, “Now let me worship at mine.”

That’s the only warning you get before he dives in, lapping at your center with a loud, satiated growl. Your head thuds back against the column while your eyes are fixed, half-lidded, on Balerion, on the fire that surrounds him. 

You understand, then – the curtains of fire that blanketed the continent were necessary to conquer it, just as blood was necessary to bind the two of you. Perhaps one day you’ll be called to answer for that, but even then you would do it a thousand times over; even if the dark, shadowy parts of yourself, of him, lead to the deepest pits of the Seven Hells. You would do it, again and again, for him. 

You were always meant to burn together.

thank you for taking the time to read! hope you enjoyed! :)

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[nteyamsully]

YOUNGEST SULLY

summary the youngest daughter and sibling is just two years younger than tuk and she is so adorable. just how the sully family treats her.

pairing sully! reader x platonic! sully family

note reader uses she/her pronouns

neteyam was just ten years old when you were born

on a random day like any other day, you started crying in the middle of the night.

surprisingly, he was the only one who woke up from your ear splitting cries and he had to do something before you woke up everyone in the forest

call it brotherly instincts cause he handled it perfectly well

neteyam sturred in his position, his ears twitching at the familiar cries. he pushed himself to sit up as he rubbed his eyes gently. it was way too early compared to his normal waking time, but he couldn't bring himself to be annoyed at you because you're just a baby. and he learned from his dad that each and one of his siblings were like that too when lo'ak complained about how noisy you were.

he rushed up quickly and knelt down in front of you. his mother was completely asleep right next to you. he pondered why, in contrast to other times, she had been unable to wake up to the sound of your cries. nonetheless, he eventually concluded that she was exhausted from her restless nights. his father, too, has been occupied with his olo'eyktan responsibilities and raising five children.

it was his turn now as the eldest sibling to take care of you, he thinks.

carefully, neteyam embraced you in his arms. he had only ever carried you under his mother's watch once, but he recalled every piece of advice she had given him. make sure you support her head and rock her gently.

your sobbing subsided when you saw your brother and were replaced by whimpers and sniffles only. to avoid disturbing his parents, he took a seat on the corner of his home.

"are you okay now?" he asked softly. neteyam observed your eyes that were still swelled with tears, your bottom lip pushed into a pout. he giggled at the sight. "i guess you are since you're not crying anymore."

your chubby small hand reached for his nose and he scrunched them under your touch. immediately, you retracted your hand with a giggle thinking that it's like a loreyu.

your father, jake, had showed you one as he brought you around the forest. and that plant is your favorite.

neteyam smiled at the reaction. He doesn't mind at all being woken up to the sound of his baby sisters' cries if it meant he would have moments like this with her.

imagine the horror neytiri felt when she couldn't feel your warmth beside her

her eyes surveyed the area until it stopped on her eldest son, laid on the corner with you on top of his chest. you were babbling soft noises with a smile on your face as you slept.

neytiri cupped her mouth with her hand, taking in the cuteness of the moment

she wished she had whatever the humans used to capture memories for remembrance

when kiri was eleven, jake assigned her to help their grandmother look after you in her hut

she obliged without a thought because she loved watching you

unlike her annoying brothers, you don't spout annoying nonsense

being with your oldest sister has always been your favourite thing. even you could feel the serenity she radiated. when neteyam was unable to be found since his father is training him, lo'ak and tuk were having fun. 

sitting between kiri's knees, your hands grasped her wrists and pushed her hands to clap against each other. you were cooing then babbling from time to time.

“papa gave you the toruk makto doll, but you’d rather play with my hands?” she asked.

her voice made you stare up with round eyes, as well as your ears perked up. as you let yourself slump forward, a playful look spread over your features.

kiri chuckled, familiar with your act.

after your grandma began teaching kiri how to be a healer, the two of you often roleplay in which you are the patient and kiri is the healer.

as you are with her during the majority of time when the warriors enter the hut to receive treatment, mo'at believes that you mimicked their behaviour. your observant eyes watching each action.

"oh no! we have a hunter who is hurt!" kiri faked a gasped and turned your body around.

you forced your eyes closed. giggles leaving your lips now and then.

"what could the cause be?" her hands touching your chubby stomach before trailing them up to your ears. "no, it's not the ears." then her fingers lightly tickled your neck which made you laugh. "nope, neck is fine. it must be… here!"

kiri tickled each of your sides causing you to thrash between her legs. a shrieking laugh could be heard inside the hut.

mo'at smiled at the sight of her grandchildren. kiri bending over to connect both of your noses, still giggling. moments like this, she begs eywa that they stay as children forever.

lo'ak.

he's not really the right person to look after you so jake doesn't leave you alone with him

why?

it's not because he's reckless. it's because you had no fear at all and lo'ak encourages it

you were just two when you tried jumping over a small fire. the fire wasn't big, so why should he stop you?

he was hanging from a branch with his legs over it. and you instantly made grabby hands, wanting to try it

jake feared that he would have to deal with another troublemaker when you grow up

that's why neteyam is always around when you're with lo'ak

lo'ak was eleven when he was first entrusted to watch you alone.

you were two.

just two.

and neteyam is already scolding lo'ak about how he wasn't holding you in the river. he felt like his soul left him when he saw you in front of lo'ak in the river, and nothing was holding you to him. you were literally sinking.

"bro, it's not like that. i will never hurt y/n like that!" yelled lo'ak. he felt offended that his brother would ever think that.

neteyam rolled his eyes. he was holding you by the hip, and you had a scowl on your face. "no baby would want to be in the lake sinking. skxawng."

lo'ak groaned. "she was not sinking! she tried to touch the ground with her feet! she kept crying when i wouldn't let her go!"

before neteyam could argue, you spoke, "i want lo'ak." you reached your arms out to him, indicating that you wanted to be held by him.

"no. we're going to mom and dad," neteyam firmly said.

lo'ak huffed as he rolled his eyes. he knew that his parents would scold him if they found out, especially jake. 

you started sobbing as neteyam began to leave. lo'ak is the only person who ever allows you to do anything, hence you wanted to stay in the water with him for a little while longer. neteyam attempted to calm you, but it was ineffective. despite being in your father's arms, your sobbing continued to be loud enough to be heard.

neytiri was absolutely fuming when she found out

jake was bouncing you in his arms because your cries hadn't stopped

lo'ak was standing in front of them, head down

it was when you said your brothers name, reaching out to him, your mother stopped scolding him

lo'ak cupped the back of your neck as you rested your head on his shoulder. 

maybe he was wrong for letting you do that, but he would never intentionally harm you. your brother adores you and he hoped that his parents see that

because tuk is closest to your age, she's your partner in crime

whatever she does, you follow

wherever she goes, you're right behind her

the two of you had no sense of what's wrong or right so you two didn't care

tuk was five and you were three. neytiri wasn't home because it was her hunt this time with her party. neteyam, lo'ak, and kiri were out to hangout with other kids their age. 

so, it was just jake and his little girls.

jake enjoyed playing with his little princesses, but he was tired from his olo'eyktan duties. he tried to fight his drowsiness, blinking his eyes open. but with tuk laying on his stomach and humming a random melody, it was impossible.

"hm?" you tilted your head when you see a basket that had shells with paint inside them. blue, yellow, white. your favourite colours! 

carefully, tuk moved from her father to you. her eyes shined at the shells and grabbed the blue paint.  "the one who gets the most paint on their body loses!"

tuk dipped her hand in the shell and touched your chest, leaving a four finger mark. you whined and grabbed the yellow shell. doing the same thing she did to you.

from then on, it became paint wars.

kiri, neteyam, and lo'ak were shocked to see the hammock dirty with paint. even more shocked to see you and tuk covered with paint head to toe.

neteyam was quick to wake his dad because if his mom sees this, they were all in trouble

jake cursed when he was greeted by his paint covered daughters. he internally cursed himself again when you and tuk said shit because of him

there wasn't enough time to do anything because your mother was already home

jake received a great scolding from her

you are loved dearly by your family and they would do anything for you <3

it's only cut to the sully siblings because i felt like it's getting too long. if this gets much attention, i might make one for jake and neytiri !