#i mean why would they even consider her their oldest

[witchcraftandgeeknes]

Imagine Freya finding her siblings and everything goes like in canon, except they are babying her. She entered this family intending to take her role as the eldest, but the Mikaelsons perceive her as their new baby sister – because, tbh, she is mentally the youngest. So they all are a bit overprotective.

"I'm a firstborn!"

"Love, you need at least a century-long experiece for this official position. As you don't have it, just accept things the way they are."

[suuuupernovaaa]

kame

kame [ˈk·a.m·ɛ] vtr. see, see into, understand, know (spiritual sense)

Anonymous Request: Could we have something where Metkayina Reader is the chief's daughter, becomes good friends with Neteyam, and is in love with him but doesn't think he finds Metkayina women attractive because he doesn't seem interested in any of the girls, so she asks Lo'ak if he thinks she's pretty because he's also her friend but Neteyam overhears and gets upsets cause he misunderstands why she's asking? Pretty pretty please with a sweet sappy ending.

Feeling insecure about your crush on Neteyam, you ask his younger brother if he thinks Metkayina woman are attractive. Neteyam overhears and misunderstands.

1,978 words

Lo'ak and I had been sitting quietly on the beach for quite a while, watching the children play nearby as the clouds rolled in, promising rain.

As if reading my mind, Lo'ak pointed up. "Looks like rain."

I nodded. Talk of weather was nice, but what I really wanted to talk about was Lo'ak's older brother.

In the months since they'd arrived, I was unable to get Neteyam off of my mind - but I couldn't read him for the life of me. He was reserved, the oldest Sully brother, not like Lo'ak. Lo'ak wore his heart on his sleeve, lucky for my sister, who was equally enamored with the younger Sully brother.

Neteyam did not seem interested in any of the Metkayina women, and I wondered if our physical differences were unappealing to him. Was my hair too coarse, my tail too wide, my eyes too large?

It wasn't that Neteyam wasn't nice to me, I would even have considered us friends, but the possibility of more than that just didn't seem to be there.

"Lo'ak, do you find me attractive?" I asked finally.

Lo'ak turned to me sharply. "What?"

"I mean, Metkayina women. Do you think they're as pretty as your forest women? Your mother is breathtaking."

He wrinkled his nose at the statement, and then smiled.

"Yes. I think you're attractive," he replied. His reassurance should have comforted me, but it only made me more confused. If Lo'ak could find me attractive, why couldn't his brother?

"Not as attractive as my sister, though, yes?" I leaned over, a teasing smile on my face, bumping my shoulder into his.

Lo'ak sighed, the sound of a man in love. "No one is as beautiful as her."

What I wouldn't give to have Neteyam feel that way about me.

--

"Yes, I think you're attractive," Neteyam's brother said to Y/N, the woman he had been pining after for months.

Neteyam was approaching the two, planning to join them on the beach, but the snippet of their conversation he'd caught was enough to make him turn on his heels and stalk back to his mauri pod.

He felt betrayed by Lo'ak, even though he hadn't said so much as a whisper of his feelings for Y/N - mostly he felt mad for Y/N's younger sister, whom he'd thought his brother was growing close to.

Was Lo'ak to betray her? Was her own sister to betray her? Maybe Y/N was not the woman he thought she was, after all.

--

It began raining soon, and Lo'ak and I stood to leave the beach.

"I gotta ask," Lo'ak said as we walked back towards our respective homes. "Why the question - uh, about you being pretty?"

A blush heated my cheeks.

"It's Neteyam, isn't it?" he said, trying not to smile too wide. "You like Neteyam?"

I shrugged. "He doesn't seem interested, in any of the women here. I thought maybe he found us unappealing."

Lo'ak shook his head. "He's just shy. Give him time."

I wasn't so sure. We parted ways with a friendly goodbye, and I returned to my family for the evening with much to think about.

--

The next morning, the clouds had cleared and the day was beautiful. I set out early with Tsireya at my mother's request - she was wary of Lo'ak, and wanted Tsireya supervised at all times.

"I think Lo'ak is a nice young man," I told her as we waded into the water. "We had a nice talk last night."

She smiled, ear to ear, her beautiful smile. I had always wished I had Tsireya's sunny disposition and kind heart - she was a joy to everyone who knew her.

"What did you talk about?"

I looked away, blushing a little. "Neteyam."

She gasped, reaching out to grab my arm. "You like Lo'ak's brother?" She giggled with excitement.

"I asked Lo'ak if the women here were appealing to him. Of course, I know you are beautiful to Lo'ak, but I wondered if Neteyam maybe... thought I was ugly."

Tsireya gasped. "Y/N, you must never speak like that again. You are exceedingly beautiful, as well as smart, skilled, our fastest swimmer-"

I cut her off before she could continue on. "Sister, please."

"Well, it's true!" she replied forcefully. "If Neteyam does not like you, he's a moron."

We giggled together. Talking with my sister always made me feel better, no matter the issue.

--

Later that day, I happened upon Neteyam alone - as I had been looking for him nearly all day. Tsireya had given me the confidence I needed to try and really talk to him.

"Neteyam!" I called when I found him, swimming just off shore as I stood on the beach.

He raised one hand and waved to me, and began his approach. I stood waiting, fidgeting nervously with my hands as he came towards me at what felt like a snail's pace.

He shook his hair when he exited the water, and as usual, I was overcome with his beauty.

"Hello," Neteyam nodded, somewhat formally.

"I need to talk to you," I said quickly.

He cocked his head to the side. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. I just... need to tell you something, and I have the courage to tell you now, but I probably won't later."

Neteyam shook his head. "I already know."

I took a step back in surprise. "You do?"

Did Lo'ak tell him? He wouldn't do that to me - he was my friend.

"I do. I have to say, Y/N, I thought better of you."

That was... not the response I was expecting. In fact, it didn't make sense at all. Me having feelings for him made him think less of me?

"Neteyam, I... what?"

"I thought you cared for your sister, and you know how she feels about Lo'ak." He was angry, his teeth gritted, his eyes narrowed. He was angry at me.

"Neteyam, what are you talking about?"

He scoffed. "I heard you at Lo'ak last night, him telling you how beautiful you are. How could the two of you do that to Tsireya?"

I had never seen Neteyam so angry, certainly not at me. He had heard a part of our conversation last night and assumed the absolutely worst - that I would betray my most beloved sister.

Tears filled my eyes. "I can't believe you would think this of me." Before I could embarrass myself any further, I turned and ran back home to cry in my father's arms.

--

He had expected to feel better after confronting Y/N, but she hadn't reacted the way Neteyam expected. Instead of feeling self-righteous, Neteyam felt confused and guilty as he returned home.

He sat silently at dinner, and though his family asked what was wrong, he shrugged them off.

He couldn't quite explain it.

"I can't believe you would think this of me."

What did she mean by that? He had heard her and Lo'ak's conversation with his own ears.

Speaking of, just as the sun was setting less than an hour later, Lo'ak entered the tent - and he was angry.

"Neteyam, you fucking idiot!" he yelled, in front of the entire family.

"Whoa, whoa!" Jake stood up in an instant, followed by Neteyam, and placed himself between the boys to avoid escalation.

"You... you fucking idiot!" Lo'ak yelled again.

"Mad that I caught you?" Neteyam asked, spitting out the words like daggers.

"You know nothing! You broke her heart, do you know that?" Lo'ak yelled.

"Stop this, now!" their mother demanded. "Explain." She turned to Neteyam first.

"Everyone knows that Tsireya is in love with Lo'ak, but last night on the beach, he was telling her sister how beautiful she is. I heard it with my own years!"

Neteyri's eyes widened in shock, and she turned to her younger son.

"Lo'ak, is this true?"

"No!" Lo'ak shouted. "Well, yes, but that's not what happened."

"Lower your voice, and explain," Neytiri said calmly.

"She asked because she thought this idiot," he gestured to Neteyam, "didn't think Metkayina women were beautiful. She wasn't asking if I thought she was attractive - she was asking if we could find her, all the women here, as beautiful as the women from back home. Because she likes you, you idiot!"

"Stop calling your brother names," Jake demanded, stepping from in-between his sons, but that was where his advice ended - this seemed like a conversation for their mother.

"He went and accused her of betraying her sister, and she's been crying all night. Tsireya came to tell me, because you need to fix it."

Lo'ak's words were like a knife in Neteyam's chest. He could picture Y/N's face on the beach, how crushed she had been, and he had never felt more guilty or regretful in his life.

He couldn't believe the things he'd believed about her, and said directly to her. He put his face in his hands and sighed.

"Shit," he whispered.

"You must go apologize, now. She is the chief's daughter. You go make peace," his mother insisted, grabbing his arm. "Come. We go now."

"Mom!" Neteyam said, but there was no getting around it - his mother was going to march him over to apologize to the woman he loved.

--

After my embarrassing display of emotion early - which was very out of character for me - my father would not let me further than a foot away from him. We sat, eating together, with his arm around my shoulders.

Every so often he would mutter something like, "Idiot boy," or "hideous moron" and I had to admit, it helped.

He finally let me go to clean up after dinner, and Tsireya gave my arm a squeeze as she joined to help.

"I am sorry for the intrusion," someone said at the entrance to our mauri, and we all turned to look. Standing there was Neteyam, his mother holding his arm. "My son owes your daughter an apology."

"Oh no," I whispered under my breath, meeting eyes with Tsireya.

My parents locked eyes with each other. I could tell they both wanted to rip poor Neteyam's throat out, but after a moment, they nodded with each other.

"Hear the boy out," my mother said, bending down to grab my arm. "You will return soon."

"Yes, mother," I nodded, and followed Neteyam and his mother out of the tent.

Neytiri followed us down to the beach, but then broke away, leaving us completely alone in the moonlight.

We stood, staring out at the water for a long, awkward moment.

Finally, Neteyam spoke.

"Never in my life have I been such a fool, or hurt someone I care about so deeply. I was overtaken by jealousy when I heard you and my brother talking, and I assumed the worst. I know you may not be able to forgive me, but I will never stop being sorry."

Tears filled my eyes again, but I couldn't form a reply.

"You should know that I think you are the most beautiful creature I have ever laid eyes on. I have been mesmerized by you since the moment we arrived. You are all I think about, day and night. My biggest regret is that I did not tell you that, every single day. If I had, we would have avoided all this. I see you, Y/N. I see you."

Neteyam reached up, brushing a tear from my cheek, and I leaned my face into his palm.

He took a sharp breath in.

"I see you, and I forgive you, Neteyam," I said finally. Continuing to be angry at Neteyam, now that I knew how he felt, seemed like an impossible task. "And I would kiss you now, but I think both our mothers are watching."

A smile spread across his lips, and he bent down to hover his lips just above mine. "I do not care."

[zegrasdrysdale]

[ a christmas surprise ] j. hughes & n. hischier

day twelve of malia’s christmas fic marathon

paring : Jack Hughes x fem!reader x Nico Hischier

summary : Jack sees the way (Y/N) is looking at Nico at the Devils Christmas party and makes an interesting proposal that neither of them can resist

warning(s) : smut ! approved cheating ? (idk if that's a thing but it's a thing for this fic), threesome, slight sub!reader, pet names during sex, oral (m&f receiving), fingering, protected and unprotected penetrative sex, multiple orgasms

author’s note : had to go all out for the last fic of the christmas marathon. my gift to y’all. merry (belated) christmas if you celebrate. i give to you, the finale of the christmas fic marathon ! this took me a lot longer to write than i thought but here y'all go

༺═──────────────═༻

She had no idea what to expect when she walked into the rental hall for the Devils Christmas party with her boyfriend of two years. She knows that Jack, Luke, Nico, Dawson, and Jesper decorated the whole thing, but she's surprised at how well it's actually decorated.

Everyone is either wearing red or back, which makes sense considering the Devils' colors are red and black. She thought there would be more green worn since it is the day after Christmas. A lot of the guys are wearing one of their arrival suits with crazy ties.

Jack isn't though. He has on one of his arrival suits and a black tie. He didn't go all out in his outfit but he did with the decor.

"Wow, Jack," she gasps when she walks into the hall. "Looks good. I had doubts."

He looks offended as (Y/N) greets him with a very quick kiss. "Ouch, baby," he says as he feigns chest pain. "That hurt."

"I mean, the oldest one out of the five of you that decorated is only 25," she defends. "Sorry if I had a few doubts about a bunch of mid to young twenty-year-olds decorating for a Christmas party. Luke also just left college in May so excuse me for being worried about how it would look with you guys decorating."

Jack drapes an arm around her shoulders and smiles. "We had our captain with us," he comments. "We were in good hands, (Y/N). He kept ordering us around and telling us where things should go. Merc even got yelled at in Swiss-German because Nico got so frustrated with us at one point."

She smiles as she walks further into the large room. "I wish I could've seen that," she laughs. "That sounds like a very Nico thing to do."

"What sounds like a very Nico thing to do?" a accented voice says from behind (Y/N). She freezes mid-step and turns with Jack to look at Nico Hischier.

"You yelling at Dawson in Swiss-German while we were decorating," Jack answers for her. No words form on her lips as she looks Nico up and down when a smile forms on his lips. She swears her cheeks get hot when he looks over at her.

She has no idea why she gets tongue-tied around the Swiss captain. He's been around since she and Jack started dating. She should be used to seeing him and talking to him by now.

Maybe it's that damn accent or the fact that there are no words in the English language that could describe how hot he looks in his suit and fresh haircut. The dimple that forms when he smiles makes her lose her mind every single time.

If she weren't dating Jack, she'd absolutely go for his captain. She's always had a thing for European guys.

"Well, it was frustrating that he wasn't listening," Nico says, pulling her out of her head. "You know when I get frustrated, I switch languages. It's something that's always happened. Sometimes it's out of my control."

"I'm well aware," Jack laughs, completely unaware that his girlfriend is checking out his captain, or that his captain is checking out his girlfriend.

It's something that started very recently, and neither of them have acted on their thoughts. (Y/N) is very much in love with Jack, but she is allowed to look at other men. As long as she doesn't act on the thoughts she has about other men.

An arm wraps around her waist and she looks up at Jack. "Why don't you go get us drinks and maybe something to eat?" he suggests. "I need to talk to Nico about some strategies for our next game against Columbus."

She nods and spares one last glance at Nico before walking off. She finds the area with the drinks and food. She makes a plate for them to share and orders them both a drink from the bar.

When she turns around with their plate of food and their drinks, she sees that Jack and Nico are still very deep in conversation. Nico looks surprised and confused at whatever Jack is saying to him. Nico does glance over at her then quickly looks away from her and back at Jack.

He nods at something Jack said before Jack turns and walks over to her. He takes one of the drinks and (Y/N) asks, "What was that about? It looked like a much different conversation than strategies about the game with the way Nico looked."

"Don't worry your pretty little head about it," Jack tells her with a soft kiss to her temple. "Just know that it was a very good and informative conversation between a captain and his alternate. That's all you need to know right now. Let's go eat, yeah?"

She nods and they find a table with Dougie, Erik, Vitek, and their significant others so they can eat. She enjoys the meatball hoagie she made for herself and Jack enjoys the piece of steak she grabbed for him.

The two of them make small conversations with each other and with the people at their table. Dougie compliments Jack on how good the decorations look and he talks all about how fun it was to decorate with Luke, Nico, Dawson, and Jesper.

(Y/N) doesn't realize it at first but her eyes scan the room looking for Nico the first time Jack mentions the captain. She's surprised when she doesn't find him anywhere. She hasn't seen him since he walked away from Jack nearly ten minutes ago now.

"Hey, Jack," she says to grab his attention. He looks over at her. "Have you seen Nico? He's nowhere to be found."

Jack blinks at his girlfriend. "Why are you looking for Nico?" he asks.

"It's just weird that I haven't seen him," she explains. "He's usually walking around and talking to everyone but I haven't seen him since he walked away from the conversation with you."

He swallows a bite of his food and says, "He said something about going to the bathroom. He's probably still there."

She's confused by how Jack is being so casual about his MIA captain. A teammate would go find him and make sure he's okay.

(Y/N) stands up when Jack goes back to talking with Dougie, Erik, and Vitek. She makes her way towards the bathrooms. Dawson walks out of the men's room and she grabs him. "Is Nico in there?" she asks. "Jack said he might be in there."

"Yeah, he's in there," he tells her. "He's freaking out about something but won't tell me what. Where's Jack? I wanna talk to him."

"At the table with Dougie, Erik, and Vitek," she replies. "They're talking about the decorations actually so if you want to go and brag, there you go."

Dawson smiles and heads into the main room.

(Y/N) hesitates for a moment before she slowly pushes open the door to the men's room. She peeks her head in and sees Nico leaning with his hands against the sink counter. His head is down, but he seems to be the only one in the bathroom so she walks in.

The door closing behind her gets Nico's attention. He blinks a couple of times before before he realizes that she's standing in the bathroom with him. "What are you doing in here?" he asks. "Where's Jack?"

"That seems to be a really popular question," she says with a smile on her face. The smile falters when she realizes he's being serious. "He's talking to Dougie, Erik, Vitek, and now probably Dawson. He said you might be in here so I came to check on you to make sure you're okay."

Nico still seems confused as to why she is standing in front of him instead of Jack. "Did he tell you?" he questions.

Now it's her turn to be confused. "Tell me what?" she asks. "He didn't tell me anything. He's actually being really weird and refused to come see if you were okay when I realized you haven't been seen in like ten minutes. Then Dawson said you were panicking about something so that really had me worried. I needed to come check on you."

He leans against the counter and crosses his arms across his chest. He's taken his suit jacket off and she can't help but look at how the button-up hugs his arms in all the right places. She presses her lips into a line so she doesn't say anything.

The captain squints his eyes at her and says, "I think you should talk to him about the conversation we had. I shouldn't be the one to tell you."

"Now you're being weird," she comments. "Why is everyone being so weird recently? I am really not a fan of-"

Nico crosses the floor in four large strides and pulls her by the back of her neck into a deep kiss, cutting her off from whatever she was about to say.

She gives in because she's always wondered what it would be like to kiss Nico. He's an attractive guy and she's always thought he was attractive.

The dark hair that he's let grow long enough to cover his forehead and form a curtain over his eyes when he looks down. Her fingers play with the ends of his locks on the back of his neck. The dimple in his cheek every time he smiles makes her weak in the knees sometimes. The deep, accented voice makes her wish that she got to hear how it sounds in bed.

She kisses him back after a lapse in her judgement.

The shock of the initial kiss wears off and Nico walks until (Y/N)'s lower back is pressed against the same sink he was leaning on five minutes ago. The kisses exchanged between them are feverish and desperate.

His free hand rests on her waist and she moves to grip the collar of his shirt so he doesn’t move away from her. Nico shoves a thigh between her legs and she has to refrain from grinding against it.

All she wants is to get some pressure on her core, but she doesn’t want this to be over so soon. If she starts to grind on Nico’s thigh, she’ll be coming in seconds.

She jumps up onto the counter behind her because her neck is starting to hurt from craning it to kiss him. His hand slides down to her thigh, his fingers dipping below the skirt of the dress that she’s wearing. She hooks her legs around his waist, and she feels something poke her upper thigh.

A door opens beside them and (Y/N) breaks the kiss to look at whoever walked in the door.

It’s Jack.

Her eyes widen and she pushes Nico away from her. “I-” she begins to say before Jack waves his hand to cut her off. She closes her mouth and tries not to cry.

The realization of what just happened sinks in the longer Jack stays quiet. She cheated on him with his captain. It doesn’t surprise her that he hasn’t said anything. He just looks between the two of them.

“Does she know?” Jack asks, looking behind her at Nico.

“I haven’t told her yet,” Nico says. She turns and looks at him. She’s surprised to find that he doesn’t look terrified at the fact that Jack caught them making out in the men’s bathroom.

Jack’s eyes flicker back to her. “Why do you look like you’re about to cry, baby?” he asks as he walks toward her.

A very surprised and confused (Y/N) says, “You just saw me kissing Nico. Heavily kissing Nico. You caught me cheating on you with your teammate, Jack.”

Through the tears in her eyes, she sees Jack smile. “The conversation with Nico was to tell him that it was okay if he did anything with you,” he tells her. “I’ve seen the way the two of you look at each other. It was obvious that you both were thinking the same thing.”

“But-”

“And I offered for him to join us in our bed tonight,” Jack admits, cutting her off. He brushes a piece of hair away from her face and tucks it behind her ear. “If it’s alright with you, of course. If it’s too much then you don’t have to but I don’t mind sharing you tonight and see where it takes us.”

She blinks away the tears and looks back at a flustered and slightly disheveled Nico. He has a small smile on his face as she realizes that it was okay. Nico knew it was okay to kiss her, and she’s going to get both of them as soon as they leave.

The thought of the two of them working together to take her apart is nearly enough for her to say that they should leave the party right now. The only reason she doesn’t is because they are both leaders of the team and can’t just up and leave just as the party is beginning.

“Jack, if you felt pressured to do this because you think I want this, I-”

“I want you to be happy, (Y/N),” Jack assures her. He cups her jaw in his hands. “It’s Christmas so I thought it would be a nice surprise for you. Plus, Nico is one of my best friends so if I’m going to share you with anyone, I’d like it to be him. You look at him the same way you look at me. I’d figure that I’d give this a try.”

She looks back at Nico, who hasn’t moved but keeps the smile on his face. “I’m okay with this,” he tells her. “Jack basically made me admit to him that I want to fuck you and he said that it was okay. If you don’t want this or if you aren’t okay with this then tell us and we don’t have to do anything.”

The thing is that she has wanted to get fucked by Nico. She just didn’t know how badly she wanted it until the opportunity presented itself.

“When can we leave?”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Jack and Nico make some excuse as to why they have to leave the party. (Y/N) is just along for the ride. Her body is already buzzing with anticipation of what will happen when they get to the apartment she and Jack share.

It takes nearly fifteen minutes for Jack to drive them to the apartment. She sits beside him in the passenger seat while Nico sits in the back behind Jack.

He reaches over the center console about five minutes into the drive and rests a hand on (Y/N)’s exposed thigh, right under the end of the skirt. She looks over at him and smiles. Jack’s eyes stay on the road as he squeezes her thigh. “Such a tease,” she giggles.

“Says you,” Jack replies with a smile on his lips.

She glances back at Nico, whose eyes are on Jack’s hand. His own hand was on her thigh not even a half an hour ago. The bathroom makeout comes back to her full force and her body shakes.

If that’s what Nico can do to her in two minutes, she isn’t ready for when he can take his time with her.

Jack pulls (Y/N) against him as soon as they walk into their shared apartment. She smiles and hears the front door close behind her. Jack looks behind her at Nico and says, "You don't have to just stand there, you know. You can come over. She's yours tonight too and you have my permission to do whatever you want to her as long as she's okay with it."

That's not something that (Y/N) ever expected to hear let alone hear out of Jack's mouth. That she's Nico's tonight too. She gets both of them. Two of the hottest men she's ever seen.

With permission from Jack, Nico takes the few steps over to the two of them. She turns her head and looks back at Nico, whose hands rest on her waist. She noses at his jaw so he looks at her instead of his hands. His curious eyes meet hers and she gives him a small smile.

She feels Jack's fingers on her jaw and he turns her head back to face him. "If you're uncomfortable with something-" he begins to say.

"Shut up and take me to bed," she interrupts. "Please."

He leans in and ravishes her mouth with his. His hands are on her jaw as he kisses her. They eventually slide into her hair and curl into the brown locks. She lets out a soft whine against her boyfriend's lips when she feels Nico's fingers trail down over her waist to her thighs. He presses soft kisses to her jaw and neck.

(Y/N) puts a hand on Jack's chest and pushes him toward their room. She grabs Nico's hand with her free hand and pulls him behind her. The three of them stumble through the dark apartment until they reach the bedroom.

She loses her heels and jacket in the journey to the room while Jack’s shirt gets unbuttoned and Nico loses his suit jacket. Jack picks her up and lays her on the bed as soon as they enter the room.

The kiss breaks in the process and she stares up at the two men in front of her. She bites her swollen lip as she waits for one of them to make a move.

Jack is the one to break the silence between them. “You or me?" he asks.

Nico looks down at her on the bed. "Me," he says, voice thicker than it was before. "My turn." Jack moves aside and lets Nico do whatever he wants.

She's able to smile for about two seconds before Nico crawls up her body and kisses her, continuing where they left off in the bathroom. The kiss is rough and Nico's hand is cupping her jaw. (Y/N) wraps her legs around the Swiss man's waist and digs her heels into the back of his thighs.

He kisses her more deeply than Jack does. Jack is rough, feverish. He constantly ravishes her mouth while Nico, while rough, kisses deeply. He kisses her with intent and lets her know what he wants to do to her.

It surprises her when she realizes that she loves the way they both kiss her.

Her hands run up and down his sides before she reaches between the two of them. With their lips locked, (Y/N) begins to unbutton his shirt. Nico uses his free hand to untuck the shirt from his pants. She shoves it off his body and runs her hands down his arms. His hand run down her thigh then runs up

He's more muscular than Jack is. His arms are bigger and his stomach is more toned. She loves it, but she also loves how Jack is muscular but doesn't completely cover her when he's on top of her.

She is going to get the best of both words tonight, and she cannot wait.

The mattress dips behind her and she feels fingers run through her hair. (Y/N) breaks the kiss and looks up to see Jack sitting on the bed with his fingers in her hair. He's ditched the unbuttoned shirt and suit jacket. Nico's lips attach to her jaw and he trails down her neck to her chest. The dress she's wearing exposes a lot of her cleavage and Nico kisses the exposed skin. Jack leans down and kisses her upside down.

Someone's fingers hook into the thin straps of her red dress and slide them down her arms. Nico pushes the satin fabric to the side and gets his mouth on her nipple. She groans his name against Jack's mouth and he pulls away. She tries to chase his lips but Jack pins her shoulders to the bed.

"Fuck," she sighs when Nico moves to give her other breast some attention. Jack reaches down and gets his hand on the breast that Nico abandoned. She whines when Jack rolls her sensitive nipple between his fingers.

She turns her head to the side notices the bulge in Jack's pants. She reaches behind her and palms him through his pants. She wants to get her hands on him so she blindly tries to get them unbuckled and unbuttoned. "Jack," she whines. "Off."

He moves off the bed so he can get his pants and boxers off. Nico pulls the dress further down her body as Jack sits on the bed. He pulls her against his chest while he leans back against the headboard. The dress comes off her body and Nico throws it to the floor, joining their shirts.

Nico's hungry eyes are on her when Jack moves her legs apart, exposing her ruined panties to the Devils captain. She can feel her core pulse the longer Nico's eyes are on her.

"Pretty, isn't she?" Jack asks as he tucks (Y/N)'s hair behind her ear. A soft hum comes from Nico as he begins to undress. Her eyes rake his body and she wishes that she could touch him.

Jack's fingers trail down over her jaw and neck, between her breasts and down her belly until they reach the waistband of the lace panties. His lips ghost over the swell of her ear. "You're our pretty girl," Jack whispers in her ear

"Our pretty girl," Nico agrees as he climbs onto the bed.

Our pretty girl. She's theirs. Those three words make her entire body shake.

"Come get a taste, Nico," Jack tells his friend. His fingers dip into her panties and he gathers some of the wetness. She watches as he licks up her arousal. "She's ready, like the good girl she is."

Her tongue darts out to wet her bottom lip as a now naked and smiling Nico lays on his stomach. He kisses her inner thighs as Jack turns her head. He kisses her at the same time Nico pushes her underwear to the side.

Nico's tongue runs through her folds and she moans into Jack's mouth. She reaches behind her and wraps one of her hands around his dick. Her other hand flies to Nico's hair when he wraps his lips around her clit and his tongue flicks the sensitive bundle of nerves.

She grinds her hips against Nico's mouth, needing more. She needs so much more.

This feels so much better than she ever thought it would be. Her legs are already shaking and they've only just started. Jack's lips on hers and his hands roaming her naked body. Nico's mouth on her clit. It’s a little overwhelming but it feels amazing.

Then Nico pushes a finger inside of her while his mouth is on her. She gasps and does everything she can not to come just from that. "Fuck," she moans against Jack's mouth. "Nico."

His fingers curl inside of her and her back arches off the bed. She knew he could do a lot of things with his fingers. She didn't know he could do this. Jack’s talented with his fingers, but Nico could have her coming in seconds with his.

(Y/N) breaks the kiss and slides down Jack’s body until she can turn her head and get her mouth on his dick. She licks up the bead of precome that has formed on the tip before she wraps her lips around the fire red tip. A soft groan passes his lips when she begins to move her head.

Every so often, Nico will curl his fingers or suck on her clit and she’ll hum or moan around Jack. Her boyfriend will sigh every time she makes a noise around his cock.

Her body can only hold off an orgasm for so long though. No matter how hard she tries.

The next time Nico curls his fingers in a “come here” motion, she’s coming with Jack’s dick in her mouth and Nico’s fingers in her pussy.

She pulls off Jack's cock and cries out as she comes on Nico's fingers without warning. Her legs shake and she pushes herself against Nico's mouth. She swears she blacks out because of how hard and how suddenly her orgasm hits her.

"Fuck, Nico," she whines as she comes down from her sudden high. She feels him licking up her release and soft sighs pass her lips.

The Swiss captain crawls up her body and captures her lips in a deep but rough kiss. She hums as she tastes herself on his lips. (Y/N) Isn't happy when he pulls away. She watches him lick his lips and smile.

"You taste so good, liebling," he says. She shivers at the use of the nickname. "Fuck, I don't think I'll ever get enough."

A barely there (Y/N) mumbles, "Wanna suck you, Nico."

Nico glances up at Jack, who asks, "Think you can take both of us, baby?" She immediately lifts her head to look up at Jack and frantically nods. Jack smiles at her enthusiasm. "Hands and knees then."

Quickly, she rolls over onto her stomach and does what Jack told her to do. The boys switch their positions. Nico kneels on the bed in front of her while Jack kneels behind her.

She takes Nico's cock in her hand and glances up at him. She knew he had to be packing but she didn't know he'd be this big. She shivers at the idea of him inside of her but takes him in her mouth. Nico gathers her hair into a makeshift ponytail as she begins to move her head.

Behind her, Jack pulls off her panties and runs his dick through her folds, over her already sensitive clit. She hums around Nico's dick as Jack presses into her.

It doesn't feel weird to have Nico's dick in her mouth and Jack's dick inside of her at the same time. She always thought that it would be weird, but it's kind of hot. They're both using her to get off and she's perfectly okay with that. There's already another knot forming in her stomach.

Jack thrusts into her and presses his hands into her lower back. Nico has his fingers in her hair and slowly moves his hips so he's fucking her mouth. Her hand makes up for what she can't fit in her mouth.

"Look at you, (Y/N)," Jack says behind her. "Taking both of us. Such a good girl, isn't she, Nico?"

Nico hums above her and she looks up at him through her eyelashes. "Such a pretty girl taking my cock in her mouth," he replies. "Feels so good.

She screws her eyes shut and just feels. She feels Jack's dick moving in and out of her. She feels herself hollow out her cheeks and suck Nico's dick at the same time Jack moves. They're both thrusting their hips into her and she happily takes whatever they give her.

From behind, Jack leans over her body and presses kisses to her shoulder. She whines around Nico's dick when Jack uses his legs to spread hers further apart. The new angle lets Jack move deeper into her.

"You have no idea how hot you look taking both of us," Jack whispers against her ear. "Fuck, baby. We might have to do this all the time. I think you'd like that. Would you like that?" (Y/N) nods with Nico's cock in her mouth. "I knew you'd like that."

When he gets back on his knees, Jack wraps his arm around her waist and pulls her up to her knees. She whines when Nico's dick slips from her mouth but moans at the new angle. She reaches out for Nico as he says, "Look at you, liebling. Look so pretty getting fucked on your knees."

Her eyes are on Nico in front of her while Jack ravishes her neck with kisses and soft bites. She whines and moans as Jack thrusts into her. Nico crawls up and presses their chests together.

He cups her jaw in his hands and runs his thumbs over her cheekbones while Jack fucks her. Her lips are slightly parted and she lets out soft pants while holding eye contact with Nico.

Nico reaches down between them and gets his fingers on her clit as Jack speeds up his thrusts. "Fuck," she cries out at the pleasure. She gets a hand around Nico's dick and pumps him. Nico kisses her as Jack marks up her neck.

Jack's hands slide around to cup (Y/N)'s breasts. He plays with her nipples and she moans his name against Nico's lips.

She's quickly approaching her second orgasm in about twenty minutes. Her free hand flies to Nico's hair and she holds on for dear life. She's shaky on her knees. Nico realizes this and lays on his back in front of her. Jack lets her go and she's back on her hands and knees. His fingers replace Nico's.

With on hand on Nico's thigh and the other on his dick, she gets her mouth back on him. She sucks harsher than she probably should but Nico enjoys it since he's squirming under her touch.

"Gonna come, baby," Jack pants behind her. "Fuck. Can I fill you?" She hums in approval.

As soon as she feels Jack come inside of her, she's coming around him with a moan. Her vision whites out and she isn't sure what happens after that.

She doesn't know when Jack pulls out or when she collapsed on the bed. Jack is nowhere to be found in the room and Nico is hovering on top of her. He’s kissing her neck and he’s bumping himself to his orgasm.

“Nico, baby,” she breathes out. “Come. Use me to come. It’s okay. Do whatever you want.”

“Wanna fuck you,” he admits. “Please. I’ve waited so long to fuck you, liebling. You don’t have to do anything. Just lay there and look pretty. Take me like the good girl you are.”

She nods and whispers a “yeah”. Nico grabs a condom and uses Jack’s come to slip easily inside of her. She gasps as Nico thrusts slowly into her. She winces from the overstimulation but Nico moves carefully so he doesn’t hurt her.

Their eyes meet and suddenly the moment is more intimate than she expected. She has the urge to confess everything she feels for him.

“Nico, I-”

“I know,” he softly says. His fingers brush over her cheekbones. “Me too. Since day one.”

(Y/N) smiles and leans up to capture Nico’s lips in a kiss. It’s a deep kiss, unlike the other kisses they’ve shared. Unlike the kisses she’s shared with Jack tonight.

Nico’s fingers are on her clit again and she’s barreling toward her third orgasm. She doesn’t know how she’s about to come again, but it doesn’t take long since she’s so overstimulated.

He’s right behind her.

She clenches around him and she’s gone for the third time. Her body goes limp at the same time Nico groans and comes into the condom inside of her.

His head falls beside hers and he rolls off of her so he’s laying on the mattress. She’s a panting, tired mess by the time Jack comes back into the room from the bathroom.

(Y/N) looks over at him with her eyes half closed. Jack cleans her up and the mess around her up before he lies down beside her.

“You okay?” Jack questions. “Not too much?”

She looks at her boyfriend before looking at Nico. When she looks back at Jack, she says, “I wanna do it again. Is that okay?”

Jack looks past her at Nico. “As long as you’re okay with it,” Nico tells Jack.

“I didn’t mind,” he says to the both of them. “Next time though, can the two of you wait for me to be in the room before you fuck?”

A laugh passes Nico’s lips and she tiredly smiles.

“Tomorrow.”

They’re all in agreement as they all fall to sleep. Her head is on Jack’s chest and her legs are intertwined with Nico’s under the blanket.

༺═──────────────═༻

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[pterodactylterrace]

“The Blacks won because it’s Rhaenyra’s bloodline that continues on.”

Ok, first of all, Aegon II made Aegon III his heir. Rhaenyra was dragon chow by then. Rhaenyra wanted the iron throne more than anything else, and she only held power for 6 months before the small folk had enough of her bullshit. Six months. She managed to rule for half a year before she was overthrown, not by a usurper, but by her own people. Clearly, not a good ruler if you can’t even make it a year without getting chased out of your castle.

Second, Rhaenyra’s bloodline managed to fumble the ball two feet from the finish line. It started with Aegon the Unworthy and it ended with the mad king being overthrown just before the long night. Just one more generation was all they needed to last, and they fucked everything up so bad it put the entire world of men at risk. That… that takes skill. You have to actively TRY to fuck up that much.

After the conquest, there was noted to be one “good” king, and that was Jaehaerys. Between conquest and dance, Jaehaerys was noted as being a good, wise king. Aenys managed to have a mob trap his oldest two children in a distant castle right before he died. Then Maegor stepped in. He may have been decent if it weren’t for the brain damage. Most of the things he did before the battle on the hill were either rumors or just not that bad. He was also very against Kinslaying. Imo, one of the worst things he did was punish everyone involved in the Kinslaying in The Eyrie. Seems kind of strange he would dole out such a harsh punishment only to then kill his nephew in a very one sided dragon battle. That was the first thing he did after he woke up, though. Considering he had such a drastic change in personality, we can’t say how his rule would have been otherwise.

After Maegor’s death, Jaehaerys steps in. You know what made him a good, worthy king? Not the fact that he was a male, or could fight, or held the bloodline, or even that he rode the bronze fury. It was because he listened to the council of his queen. Alysanne was the real MVP of his reign. She did more for women’s rights than any other queen. She listened to her people. That is the mark of a good ruler. Walk softly, but carry a big stick. Know when to speak and when to listen.

People who know they have power and control don’t need to constantly remind others. They know. It’s not necessary to maim or murder people for speaking the truth, yet Viserys and Rhaenyra do just that.

When Saera majorly fucked up, they handled it. Not the way Alysanne wanted, by the way. She was sent to apprentice with the Silent Sisters just for sleeping with men while not married. Yet Rhaenyra can have 3 obvious bastards, insult the house with the largest naval force and prove to the entire kingdom that her words mean nothing, and Viserys still declares anyone who calls the strong boys bastards would lose their tongue.

Sorry, what? The Valaryons are one of the richest houses in the realm. They control most of the naval fleet. Maybe don’t make their son a cuckold?

“They had an open marriage!”

NO ONE ELSE KNOWS THAT. To the court and the small folk, Rhaenyra promised to be faithful to Laenor in front of the eyes of the gods, and she very obviously didn’t keep that vow. Why should they trust anything she says as Queen if she can’t even do something as simple as not birthing bastards? That’s what most people don’t realize in the bastard debate.

Whether you can prove it or not, the strong boys don’t look like either of their alleged parents. Like, at all. Even Aegon’s drunk ass could tell shit didn’t add up. Commoners are not going to be any different. They are going to know, and whether they can say it or not, it will still affect how they feel towards her. Can’t keep your marriage vows, why should I believe that you have my best interest at heart?

Because she doesn’t. She is a horrible ruler that lasted less than a year before the small folk rose up and drove her out. She feasted while they starved. It’s that self centered mentality that taints the bloodline and leads to The Unworthy.

Clearly no one learned about not having bastards, and this mofo decided to legitimize them on his death bed. Wasn’t going to be his problem, now was it? He died, someone else has to clean up his mess.

Hmm, not knowing how to clean up your own bastard mess, sounds familiar… oh, like Rhaenyra forcing her father to crawl from his death bed to make sure no one said mean (and true) things about her.

So I’m sorry, what were people saying about her being a good ruler? ‘Cause everywhere I look, I see another reason she should not have ascended the throne.

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

a/n: merry christmas eve and happy sunday! the promised andrei christmas fic (written extremely fast and edited even faster lol) title is from cher’s new christmas song which is a bop and a half so i suggest listening. going to be quiet the rest of the year to stockpile some writing, but happy new year everyone, i’ve been beyond grateful for the love my fics have gotten this year 😘

word count: 3.9k

tw: minimal smut, unprotected sex, brief fingering

summary: christmas eve at the svechnikov house is a chaotic but fun affair

“Mama?”

“Yes, my love?” You look up from the bowl of cookie dough batter. Evie was supposed to be helping after waking up at the ass crack of dawn, but the lure of rearranging all the decorations on the small tree in her room was more appealing. Your little perfectionist oldest daughter had shifted ornaments no less than fifteen times since you’d put the decorations up right after Thanksgiving.

Alina hops from foot to foot and you don’t necessarily love the sparkle of mischief in her eyes. “I catch Santa!”

You squint at her. “You’re catching Santa? Santa’s not a lizard in the backyard,” you say gently.

“I catch Santa,” Alina repeats. “Tonight! With presents!”

It clicks in your head - she means that she wants to stay up late and catch Santa leaving presents - and you laugh. “Oh, baby, you can’t stay up to see Santa, otherwise he doesn’t leave presents, remember?” You set the bowl of dough aside and scoop Alina up into your arms, sitting her down on the counter. She pouts at you, chubby little fingers reaching to play with the strings on your hoodie.

“Wanna see Santa,” she huffs. Her little pout is identical to Andrei’s and it makes you smile. You love seeing your husband’s traits and mannerisms in your girls.

You lean in to whisper conspiratorially, “guess what? Someone better than Santa is coming in a little bit.”

“Who?” Alina perks up, eyes going wide as she bounces a little. “Mickey Mouse?”

Another laugh bursts out of your mouth and Alina giggles with you, always ready to laugh with whoever’s around. “No, not Mickey Mouse,” you giggle, tickling her sides lightly and enjoying her childish laughter. “Babushka and dedushka!”

Alina shrieks happily and you catch her when she launches herself forward off the counter. The kids love when Elena and Igor come to visit and they don’t know that this trip will be extra long, as they’re staying for nearly three weeks. Once Andrei finishes his workout, he’s supposed to be going off to pick them up from the airport.

“Bring puppy?” She asks, little arms locked around your neck and wide awake considering it’s not even seven in the morning.

“No,” you shake your head, “they’re not bringing the puppy. He has to stay home where he has his bed and all his toys.”

That would be the last thing you need in the house - in-laws, three kids, a husband who’s traveling several days a week, and to add a dog on top of that? No, thank you.

“I share my toys,” she says sweetly.

You press a kiss to her cheek. “Yeah, you do share your toys with Evie and Kira. But puppy toys are different. Why don’t you go draw a picture to give Babushka when she gets here?”

Alina nods wildly and wiggles her way out of your arms and down your body before running off to the kid sized table you have set up in the den with all their craft supplies. She’ll be distracted for at least ten minutes, which gives you enough time to get the cookies on a baking tray and in the oven. Why you waited until Christmas Eve morning to make the cookies for Santa is a question for another day.

You’ve been awake since 4:30 already and your energy is starting to flag, so you make a quick mug of coffee before portioning out the sugar cookies and dipping them in the green and red sugar sprinkles. While you sip at the drink and finish the cookies with your other hand, your mind wanders to everything that has to get done today. There are a few more gifts that have to be wrapped, but for the most part you’d managed to get everything you and Andrei bought for the kids and his parents wrapped at night. You’d also wrapped all the gifts Elena and Igor had bought for the girls and had shipped directly to your house.

Dinner tonight is going to be chill and Elena had insisted on handling most of that, so you don’t worry too much about the menu. You’ll be helping her, since most of the recipes are from your childhood, but she loves cooking when she visits so you don’t mind letting her.

You decide that you’ll have Andrei take all three girls with him to the airport so you can have a minute to shower - hair wash and shaving included - without little hands knocking on the bathroom door.

Otherwise, you have to iron the girls’ outfits and tidy up the chaos before the girls hopefully go to sleep early so you and Andrei can set out the presents.

“Thinking hard?” Andrei’s teasing voice startles you out of your mental to-do list. You turn away from the counter and take him in with a smile. He’s sweaty from his workout, hair falling over his forehead that he swipes back with his free hand. Kira is on his hip, a giant four-toothed smile on her face. You nudge at her round cheeks with your knuckles, grinning back at her.

“Were you Papa’s workout buddy?” You ask her in a bubbly voice. “How’d he do?”

“Papa!” She yelps, smacking at Andrei’s chest with her hands and cuddling closer to his side. She plants a smacking kiss against his cheek, her favorite party trick to get adults coping over how cute she is.

Andrei kisses the top of her head and rests his cheek against the crown. “She’s a good cheerleader,” he laughs. And as if they practiced it, Kira waves her hands in an imitation of jazz hands. You laugh and kiss your youngest on the tip of her nose, making her giggle.

“Give me the baby and go shower,” you say, already taking Kira into your arms. She transfers easily, snuggling into your neck, one hand splayed over your chest. “I need you to take all three with you to the airport and you’re going to need to get going if you want to get your parents on time.”

He looks at the clock over the stove and frowns a little. “They don’t land until 9:30, plenty of time.”

“Yeah,” you nod, untangling your hair from Kira’s grip, “but you have to shower, the girls have to be changed and put in the car, and you have to drive to the airport. Time goes faster than you think, please just get everything going?”

Andrei nods and grips your chin in his hand to tilt your face up for a kiss. You melt a little, humming quietly. “Okay, solnyshka. We will go when everyone is ready. Do I need to pick anything else up?” He asks, tickling Kira’s back.

You shake your head, “just your parents. Next year they’re coming here earlier. None of this flying on Christmas Eve business.”

“I will tell them,” Andrei laughs before heading upstairs to shower.

Four hours later, after you’ve finished taking the cookies out of the oven, showered, and pulled together a quick little breakfast spread, Andrei’s car pulls back into the driveway. You pull open the front door with a huge smile on your face, laughing when Elena’s dragged into the house by Evie and Alina, Kira held on her grandmother’s hip. Andrei and Igor are back at the car, handling all the bags.

“Moya devushka,” Elena greets you with a warm smile and a tight hug, Kira squeaking and complaining when she’s caught in the middle of the two of you. “Ah, prosti, myshonok.” She kisses Kira’s head.

“Mama!” Evie dances at your feet, tugging on your sweater. “Babushka said she’s staying forever!”

“Mid-January, at least,” Elena shares a smile with you, helping you usher the girls inside. Kira clings to her like a koala and you love how much the girls love their grandparents.

Evie widens her eyes - Andrei’s eyes - at her grandmother, “that’s like forever! And look,” she grabs Elena’s hand, pulling her to the living room, “r’member we showded you our tree on the phone? Now you can see in real!” Alina trails along after them, clutching the stuffed Grinch that she’d recently decided was her new best friend.

Confident that the girls are handled, you head back outside to help Andrei and Igor with the bags. Your father-in-law greets you with a kiss to the cheek and waves off your help, “you have strong men. Go with Elena and girls.”

You know from past experience that it’s basically useless to fight with him, so you grab up Elena’s oversized purse from the backseat of the car and run back inside with it, wearing a sneaky little smile, before Igor can chastise you. Andrei’s laughter follows you inside.

“Elena,” you call out, “do you want your purse or should I put it in your room?”

“Oh! Bring it here,” Elena looks over her shoulder at you from where she’s sitting on the ottoman, having been oohing and ahhing over the drawings the girls made for her. “I have surprises.”

You hand over the bag, talking over the girls’ excited squeals, “you shouldn’t have. It’s Christmas Eve.”

Elena waves a hand in the air at you and if it were anyone else, you’d be annoyed at the dismissive gesture. “Small things,” she explains, reaching into the bag and drawing out little toys and Russian candies for the girls. “These were your Papa’s favorite,” she explains, handing Evie a wrapped chocolate.

Andrei appears behind you and leans forward, snatching another candy out of his mother’s hand. “Still are,” he winks at the girls. He unwraps the chocolate and pops it in his mouth before giving you a quick kiss. “I’m going to clean out the car,” he gives Kira a faux-glare, “one of the myshonok spilled her Cheerios.”

“It was Kira,” Evie pipes up, chocolate smeared around her mouth. “She spilleded out the whole bag!”

Kira, recognizing her name, giggles and chants, “Mama! Papa!”

“Our messy little girl,” you ruffle her hair gently. “Not too much candy, okay? It’s still really early.”

You know you’re going to be ignored, but you have to say it if only to stave off the mom-guilt. With the girls distracted by their grandparents - Igor’s wandered in and is telling Alina a joke she surely doesn’t understand yet - and Andrei busy with the car outside, you take the opportunity to slip upstairs and finish wrapping the few gifts that had been delivered in the last few days.

When you come back downstairs after finishing up and taking a few extra minutes to just breathe in the relative quiet, everyone’s huddled around Elena’s phone FaceTiming with Geno and his family. Everyone chatting in rapid fire Russian, even your kids, and you smile. You love that the girls are fluent in Andrei’s native language and it’s good practice when they talk to his family. The girls giggle with their cousins and you pull out your phone to snap a candid shot before joining the call, waving to Geno and his wife.

You stand behind the couch, looping your arms around Andrei’s neck and resting your chin on his shoulder, just enjoying the lively conversation. You’ve learned some Russian over the years, but you’re nowhere close to fluent and once they all start talking so fast, you’re basically lost at sea.

Andrei leans his cheek against yours, holding out his hand while he talks to block Evie’s foot from hitting him in her attempt at showing off a cartwheel. She pouts at Andrei when he tells her to sit down - that you understand, at least - and Andrei huffs in exasperation when Elena turns right around and clearly reprimands him for stopping Evie. Your head is starting to swim a little from all the noise and you press a kiss to Andrei’s cheek before standing up and heading into the kitchen.

A dog barking joins the chaos and you know Geno’s brought Igor’s dog on the screen. The girls squeal with delight and you know this means you’re going to get a barrage of begging for a puppy.

“Mama,” Evie skips her way into the kitchen, “can we show Babu and Dedu Belle’s christmas?”

The call with Geno is either done or the girls had gotten bored of sitting in one place. You nod, knowing she means the Beauty and the Beast Christmas movie, and say, “sure, bunny. Ask Papa to put the movie on the TV.”

The movie keeps them occupied for a little bit, even after Elena leaves to come help you in the kitchen. You work quietly with your mother-in-law, chatting easily about the girls and the plans for their extended trip. You’ll have a more involved celebration on January 7th - when Christmas is traditionally celebrated in Russia - with Elena making dishes that Andrei remembers from his childhood. But with the girls being raised in America, it’s easier for them to have Christmas traditions in line with their classmates and friends.

You’re incorporating some of your holiday traditions - namely the relaxing aspects of the day, watching movies and spending time with the kids - and it’s nice to not have to worry about going super over the top. Tomorrow, Andrei and his dad will grill steaks and you’re making a few side dishes and Evie helped make some cookies during the week. More than anything, you’re just excited to see them get into Christmas and to make memories with them.

The girls go down for their naps and you and Elena get to finish prepping dinner. It’s a quiet rest of the day, until suddenly it’s after dinner and the girls are bathed and changed into their matching pajamas - little candy canes printed on a white background - and Alina’s chattering about catching Santa.

“Where did she even come up with that?” You ask Andrei, laughing a little. “She said it this morning too.”

“Ah,” he gives you a sheepish smile and you’re instantly on guard, “maybe I said something. They asked about Santa and magic.” He shrugs. “I don’t know how to explain so I said to stay up and see how he does it.”

You snort a laugh, filling Kira’s bottle and closing the lid. “Yeah, that’ll do it. Better hope she knocks out like usual or we’re going to have a long night.”

Andrei settles his hands on your hips and pulls you close, kissing you gently. “I think there was enough excitement today. They will sleep, solnyshka, don’t worry.”

Resting against his chest, you loop your arms around his lower back, excitement bubbles up in your chest for the girls to see their gifts. “I know I’ve said it before,” you mumble into his chest, “but thank you for agreeing to do two Christmases.”

“Anything for you, solnyshka,” he replies, dropping a kiss to the top of your head. And then you’re interrupted by the two older girls, running in and begging to set out the cookies for Santa. Andrei lets you go and lifts both girls up onto his hips, telling them, “make sure you pick good cookies. I think he likes ones with a lot of sprinkles.”

He winks at you over the girls’ heads and you suppress a little smile while you put the cookies the girls select on a special plate. The plate of cookies is carefully arranged on the coffee table, next to a glass of milk that Evie had very carefully carried from the kitchen.

“Can we watch Frosty, Mama?” Evie asks, giving you puppy eyes. She’s already tucked up on the couch in between her grandparents, one little hand wrapped around Elena’s forearm and the other clutching her Stormy plush - this version has a little Christmas sweater on and you’d tried to resist buying it but you’re weak when it comes to saying no sometimes. Alina’s already looking like she’ll pass out any second, head resting on Igor’s chest. Andrei has Kira in his arms, rocking from side to side so she’ll fall asleep.

“Okay,” you nod, “but as soon as Frosty’s over, it’s time for bed. Remember, Santa doesn’t come if you’re awake.”

Behind you, Andrei snorts a quiet little laugh and you know exactly why, but you refuse to dignify him with a response. You press your lips together to smother a laugh of your own.

“I’m not gonna sleep,” Evie informs you, apparently on Alina’s side with wanting to catch Santa. “I’m not even sleepy, Mama.”

Her sentence is punctuated by a huge yawn and you catch Elena’s eye, both of you muffling laughter.

“It would not be so bad,” Elena says, stroking Evie’s braided hair, “to close your eyes a little, zaychik.”

Evie wrinkles her nose and shakes her head, but you’re not surprised when all three girls and both grandparents are all passed out before Frosty even gets on the train to the North Pole. Andrei’s already brought Kira up to her crib and now he helps you bring up the older girls, lifting their combined weight easily into his arms while you wake up Elena and Igor.

“Jet lag,” they both laugh tiredly, Elena giving you and Andrei kisses on the cheek before retiring to their room. Igor offers to help bring the gifts down to the tree, but Andrei says something in Russian and his father nods, closing the door behind him.

You leave the doors to the girls’ bedrooms cracked a little, hoping you’ll hear them in case they get up. Tossing Andrei a Santa hat you’ve kept around just for this moment, you grin, “let’s get this done, Saint Nick.”

Andrei jams the hat on his head and gives you a crooked smirk. “Red is my color, solnyshka,” he teases and swats at your ass gently when he follows you to the second guest room that’s been serving as your gift and wrapping room.

Between the two of you, all the gifts are brought downstairs in less than an hour. Andrei likes to deposit the boxes randomly, leaving the huge box that you know is a Barbie Dream House for the girls to share right in the middle of everything. You shake your head and move it towards the back, making sure the presents are arranged nicely and there’s room to walk around all the furniture. You spot a handful of gifts labeled in Andrei’s messy scrawl and it makes you smile.

“Last one,” he says, setting a smaller box on top of the rest. “Time for bed?”

You survey the scene, skipping over the gifts and landing on the plate of cookies. “Oops, no! We almost forgot the cookies, take a bite out of one or two,” you suggest, knowing his massive sweet tooth. Andrei bites off half of a tree shaped cookie and holds out a second to you for you to bite.

A yawn escapes as you’re chewing and you cover your mouth immediately, mumbling an apology. Andrei scoffs and rests his hand on your lower back to guide you up the stairs, “let me take my zhena up to bed.” His voice is low and deep, warm despite the tiredness lacing his tone. The Santa hat is crooked on his head and it makes him look boyishly handsome. You recognize the look in his eyes and you add a little sway to your hips on your way back to your bedroom.

“Your parents are right down the hall,” you say quietly, even as you pull your pajama top over your head and push your pants and underwear to the floor.

Andrei raises an eyebrow at you, hungrily taking in the sight of your bare body. Your nipples tighten under his scrutiny and you feel a rush of warmth between your legs. He steps forward, crowding you until the backs of your knees hit the bed and you fall back, landing flat on the mattress with your legs splayed open. He leans one knee in between your legs and covers your body with his to kiss you deeply, sliding his tongue into your mouth. You moan softly when he pulls back, one of his hands sliding up your side, over your chest, to rest at the base of your throat, “guess you’ll have to be quiet, solnyshka. Can you do that for me?”

You nod, hooking your ankle around Andrei’s hip and pushing at the waistband of his joggers. “Get rid of these,” you demand and Andrei kisses you again before standing up and stripping, his clothes discarded to the floor in seconds.

“Remember,” Andrei grins, running his fingers over your sensitive clit, making your back arch off the bed and a sharp gasp escape your lips, “quiet.”

You bite down hard on your lower lip to prevent any noise from escaping as Andrei pumps his fingers inside of you, curling and flexing them until you’re dripping down the curve of your ass. “Andrei!” You can’t help but moan his name when his fingers press up against your g-spot.

“Ah,” he tuts, pulling his fingers from your cunt and covering your mouth with his palm. “Quiet.”

With his hand muffling your noises, Andrei kneels between your open legs, lining up his cock at your entrance and sliding into you with one smooth thrust. You whine behind his hand, clenching immediately around his length, legs coming up to wrap around his waist. Sparks dance behind your eyes, pleasure building low in your stomach.

Andrei fucks into you with a steady rhythm, his hand warm over your face. You roll your hips, meeting him thrust for thrust and before you realize it, your orgasm is building and cresting, flooding your veins with fire. You bite down on Andrei’s palm and he hisses, finishing inside of you with a few more thrusts.

Everything is hazy and sticky and you blink up at Andrei, trying to focus on something other than the selfish desire for a second orgasm. Andrei’s hand shifts from your mouth to cup your cheek. His eyes twinkle with mischievous glee and you brace yourself for whatever he’s about to say.

“Santa was not the only one coming tonight, huh?”

“Oh my god,” you burst out laughing, push at his chest, “I hate you.”

Andrei kisses you sweetly, laughing too. “Sorry, that was bad,” he climbs off the bed, pulling you to your feet so you can both shower quickly and he can change the sheets before you go to bed.

It feels like you’ve only gotten ten minutes of sleep - thanks to a pair of wandering hands on your husband - when your bedroom door bangs open and Evie’s screaming, “SANTA BROUGHT PRESENTS!” She jumps onto your bed, bouncing on her knees in between you and Andrei, shrieking with delight. Andrei catches her around the waist and pulls her into a big hug.

“You’re going to wake the whole house, zaychik,” he teases, giving you a sleepy smile over her head.

“Everyone’s awake! Babu’s makin’ coffee and she said I had to wait five whole minutes before I woke you and Mama,” Evie informs him. “Can we pleaseeeee go open presents now?” She throws her arms around Andrei’s neck and pokes her lip out in a pout until he nods and she scrambles off the bed, racing for the stairs and screeching, “Papa said we can open!”

You yawn and slump against Andrei’s side, grinning tiredly, “I wish we could bottle her energy.”

“I will work on it for your birthday,” Andrei teases, kissing you warmly. “Merry Christmas, solnyshka.”

“Merry Christ—“

“MAMA! PAPA! PRESENTS!”

[avatar-anna]

young mom or professor !!

It was a busy afternoon at the Styles residence. Hair and makeup teams were running around, style teams were laying out last-minute options in case he or Y/n wished to change their outfit ideas for the night, and obviously, his most important team was hard at work to get him ready.

"Stay still, Daddy!" Collette, his second daughter said, looking up at him with a pout.

"Sorry, sorry. I'll try my best," Harry said, nodding for her to continue painting his nails. He peered down at her, eyeing the careful work she was doing. "You're quite good at this, you know."

Collette didn't look up from his hand, but Harry saw her smile, one that was nearly identical to her mother's if it wasn't for the dimples in her cheeks. "Thank you."

Before he could respond, Harry's chin was being tilted up by Simone. "This should make the bags under your eyes go away," she said, placing gel masks just under his eyes.

Harry tried not to frown at the implication that he had bags under his eyes to begin with. He never thought his daughters would be so brutally honest, but they never minced their words, especially when it came to his appearance.

So instead of opening that can of worms, he asked who was helping their mum get ready.

"The twins, but I think it's more pretend," Simone said, combing his eyebrows in place with a little brush.

"I see," he mumbled. "Well, thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to help me look pretty."

In truth, Simone was so excited about Harry going to the Grammys, she wanted to be a part of it in some way, shape, or form. She wouldn't be able to go, as that would stir up a media frenzy. For the first time, though, Harry had considered risking it all just so he could have a Daddy-daughter date tonight. Ultimately, he decided that it was better to keep that secret a secret, though he did have to promise to get Olivia Rodrigo's autograph and bring it home by the end of the night to make up for Simone not going. How he was going to manage that, he had no idea.

Still, it was a big night, for many reasons. Not only was Harry nominated for some of the night's biggest awards, Y/n was also joining him, marking their first public appearance. Ever.

His wife had been nervous, and rightfully so, but Harry wanted her to be there, wanted to spend this night with the people he loved, and there was no one else he loved more than Y/n. Except for his children, obviously.

So Y/n was in a different room getting her hair and makeup done, preparing for a night no one would soon forget while Harry was letting his two oldest children pamper him before he had to get dressed.

"Do you know what your mum is wearing? She refuses to tell me," Harry said. Simone seemed to be done with his face for the time being and was helping Collette paint his nails.

"We're not going to tell you, either!" Collette said.

Harry frowned playfully. "And that is why Julian is my favorite. He would've told me."

The girls giggled before continuing on. When it came time for Harry to start getting dressed in his red carpet outfit—a fun jumpsuit that passed voting from all six of his children (mostly four because Geneva and Natalia couldn't talk yet, but they seemed as excited as they could be)—Simone and Collette watched with wide eyes. The hair and makeup teams, who were all under strict NDAs, were incredibly kind to Harry's daughters and even styled their hair and put a little blush and lip gloss on them. Harry could only be glad that they got to have a small part of this whole experience.

He was ready in no time, and suddenly it was time to go. Harry waited patiently and anxiously downstairs as the time to walk on the red carpet drew nearer. He was nervous about tonight for so many reasons, but all he could think about was what revealing such a well-kept secret would mean for his family.

Had they really thought this through? Did Y/n want to come tonight or was she humoring Harry? Would she be more comfortable watching from a dressing room? Or even here at home? What if something happened to GiGi or Natalia or Maeve—

"Harry?"

All his thoughts came to a halt as his wife appeared in front of him, brows furrowed with concern.

And as he blinked, taking her in for the first time since she disappeared to get ready, the only thought he was capable of thinking was he was pretty sure he'd just fallen in love all over again.

Y/n had secretly gone to a handful of events for years, they'd gone to dates at fancy restaurants, and had attended weddings that required dressing up. But all of those times Y/n had dressed to blend into the background so as not to raise suspicion. Tonight, however...

Tonight Y/n was meant to stand out, was meant to be noticed. She was in a dress of gauzy, white fabric that gathered in ruffles all the way down until the gown hit the floor. The fabric was light enough to see just a hint of skin, but not enough to reveal much, though Harry could identify every curve and dip her body made. She was ethereal, an angel in white, almost like—

"It almost looks like a wedding dress, huh?" Y/n mused, twisting so the gown swished back and forth on the floor. "Don't know if I would've worn this to our wedding, though."

Harry and Y/n never had a big white wedding. They'd snuck out to a courthouse one afternoon while One Direction was touring, with Niall and Louis as their witnesses while Liam distracted everyone at the hotel. It was small and rushed, and the judge definitely thought the couple was much too young to be getting married. They didn't even have rings, as a wedding band on Harry's finger would be completely unacceptable. But none of that mattered as they both recited the vows they prepared and sealed their union with a kiss.

Her jokes did the trick, and Harry's brain began functioning normally once more. He grinned and took her hand so she could spin and show him the whole thing. "The judge definitely would've raised his eyebrows."

Years went by and they never had a vow renewal. Since Harry had bought out his contract with One Direction's management, he'd wanted to have a proper wedding, but there was just never any time. And now that they were six kids in, free time was a pipe dream, though they were the kind of busy he would never be sorry for.

Tonight, though, in this dress, Y/n looked like she could walk down an aisle, and Harry was nearly tempted to run upstairs and grab the velvet box he'd had since he was seventeen years old.

"If you're not ready, I completely understand," he said.

"I'm nervous about tonight," Y/n admitted, and with one look at her face, Harry could see the anxiety written all over it.

They could keep the secret going, he could brave this night with Kid and Jeffrey and it would be great. He would miss Y/n and the rest of his family, but he would manage as he always did.

Y/n shook her head, and Harry's shoulders sagged just the tiniest bit with relief. "I want to be with you tonight. This is a big deal."

"It's nothing—"

"Don't do that," Y/n chided, holding Harry's face in her hands. "Don't minimize what a great achievement just being nominated is."

Y/n knew Harry like no one else. She knew he would try to downplay tonight if it made her worry about him less, but this was his big night. Win or lose, she was immensely proud of him, he had to know that.

"I'm coming, you just have to promise to hold my hand the entire night," she said.

Harry grinned. "What if I win and have to make a big speech?"

She wrapped her hands around his neck, her fingers tangling in the soft strands of his hair. "Then and only then can you let go. Oh, and for your performance. But that's it."

"I think I can make that work."

Harry leaned in, his nose brushing against Y/n's teasingly until she pressed her lips against his. They were hardly brushing when the sound of footsteps hurtled down the stairs.

"Mommy! Simone says she gets to stay up all night to watch the show and I don't!"

"You're not old enough, Collette!"

"Neither are you!"

"Daddy, don't go," Julian cried, tugging on Harry's pant leg. He gave Y/n a look as they pulled apart to attend to their children. Sweeping Jules into his arms, he gave his only son a kiss on the cheek, which was already sticky with shed tears.

"Don't cry, Julian," he said softly, pushing the boy's thick hair from his face. "We won't be gone long. I promise."

Julian continued to cry, nuzzling his nose into the crook of Harry's neck, and Harry whispered softly into his ear until his son's little heart stopped beating so wildly in his chest. Jules hiccuped as Harry walked over to see that the argument between Maeve and Collette had been settled, and they were now admiring Y/n in her dress.

"I wish I could take you with me, Jules, but I don't think you'd like it very much," Harry said. He tried to set his son down, but his little legs clung to Harry's waist even tighter. "It'll be loud with lots of bright lights and not a chicken nugget in sight. I think it's best you stay home, don't you think?"

Julian nodded, but he was still clinging to Harry, who shot a look of desperation to his wife. Harry loved all of his children dearly, but they were on a tight schedule.

Y/n understood and took Julian into her arms, not at all worried about the couture dress she was wearing. She took him back upstairs where the babysitter was with Geneva and Natalia and Maeve. When she came back down a couple minutes later, Julian was gone.

"Poor thing tired himself out," she explained. Then, to her two oldest children, she said, "The second the last acceptance speech is done, up to bed. Understood?"

Simone and Collette nodded, then rushed forward to hug Y/n and Harry before ushering them out of the house, telling them to say hi to Auntie Lizzo.

As promised, Harry took Y/n's hand as they walked to the car that would take them to the theater that was hosting the Grammys. She looked at him appreciatively, resting her head on his shoulder as the car pulled away from their house.

"I'm proud of you," she said out of the blue. "If I don't get the chance to say it when you win, when you win," she repeated when Harry tried to object. "I just want you to know how proud I am of you, and not just as an artist, but as a dad and a husband too. You're one in a million, H, and I'm so happy I get to be a small part of that."

Harry was speechless. There was nothing to say that would express how much he appreciated Y/n, so he settled for a kiss. His hand was steady as he cradled the back of her head, his lips immediately finding the familiar place around her bottom lip. He suddenly wished Y/n's dress didn't have so much fabric so he could have better access to her, but he settled for trailing his hands up and down her arms and kissing all along her jaw and neck and chest until she eventually pulled him up again.

"This is one way to settle nerves," she joked, thumb grazing his jaw.

"Let me know if your nerves need any more settling throughout the night. We can sneak away during commercial breaks."

Y/n shook her head at the look Harry gave her, the same one that landed her pregnant six times. "I'll keep that in mind."

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.**.*.*.*.*.*.*.**.*.*.*.*.*.*.**.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

Harry took a bow at the end of his performance, then straightened. His eyes trailed the room back to where his table was, finding Y/n's gaze instantly. Her hands were clasped together tightly, covering the bright smile on her face.

Looking at her, his heart settled. He'd gotten lost in the heat of the performance, but she always managed to bring him back down to earth.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.**.*.*.*.*.*.*.**.*.*.*.*.*.*.**.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

Before he could think about it, he pressed his fingers to his mouth, then gestured out, blowing a kiss to his wife. Not caring who was watching, Y/n reached up and grabbed the kiss out of the air and placed it on her chest, her eyes crinkling even further as she continued to smile from ear to ear.

"So, Harry, talk to us a little about how it feels to win Album of the Year."

Harry gave his answer, talking about how surprised he was to win and what it meant to him that his music meant so much to people. Y/n thought it was cute how he stumbled over his words, trying to piece together how he felt.

"And how do you plan to celebrate? Can we expect to see you at any after parties tonight?"

"Uh, no. It's back home to the little ones for me," he said, the answer rolling off his tongue before it was too late.

"Little ones?"

"My, um, my cats. I have a few cats that are practically my children. I'll be celebrating with them tonight."

"There's no way in hell anyone is gonna believe that," Y/n muttered to Jeff, who was holding his head in his hands, not unlike Harry had when he won earlier.

"Well, Harry, we wish you all the best!"

"Thank you, I appreciate that," he said before shuffling away from the press room.

[vividachromatic]

Meant To Stay The Worst - Pt. 4

Desc: Alastor meets Reader's father for the first time and asks him for her hand in marriage

Alastor x reader

Tags: ongoing, marriage, confessions / proposals, manipulation and toxic relationships, canon typical violence and language

(<- Pt. 3 -- Pt. 5 -> )

---------------

So, today Alastor would meet your father...

You'd like to tell yourself you didn't care about your father's approval at all, but that wouldn't be true.

Of course, you'd still be together with whoever you wanted to be regardless of his opinion; but you still hoped your father would finally accept any of the decisions you made.

You already told your father that you were dating someone and you wanted the two of them to meet.

You thought he'd be extremely happy about the fact that this may finally be a chance to get you out of the house, but for some reason, he didn't really seem that happy about it.

When Alastor and you arrived at your father's property he was surprised to see several employees bowing to the two of you and politely greeting you.

"Miss Y/N, I am glad to see that you are back. The lord is already awaiting you..." one of the workers of the place gave you a quick bow and handed you a key. Despite her words, she didn't even look at the two of you, not seeming to actually care if you were there or not.

You just nodded wordlessly and used the key to let yourself in. Alastor was confused by the way your... 'home' seemed to work. It was cold. It seemed more like a workplace or a company.

When the two of you entered the house you gave him a shy smile and spread your arms wide to sarcastically present him the extravagant hallway. "We're here. Yay..."

"Oh Y/N, you're finally back! Oh? So that's the guy you're fucking, huh? Interesting..." a man only a few years older than you chuckled - looking eerily similar to you, while walking down the stairs.

Alastor narrowed his eyes at him when the man - your brother... - stepped way too close to him.

"So that's what you're into. You should've told me earlier and I could have arranged something!" Your brother Ashton laughed, "Though I always thought you were more on the other side of the spectrum, if you know what I mean..."

You narrowed your eyes at him. "Is that what you want to talk about? Really? Because I can-" You started but got interrupted when Ashton pressed a hand on your mouth. "Shut up sweetheart, okay? Shut up."

You slapped his hand away from your face with a glare. He just rolled his eyes and turned around to go to his room again.

There was a lot of drama going on in your family in the last couple of weeks... The fiance of your lovely cousin Maria cheated on her. With a man... Your brother.

The engagement was called off immediately, though barely anyone knew the exact reason why. Maria was probably too embarrassed to admit the actual reason. Same-sex relationships were way too controversial in your time.

You obviously always knew that your brother and Alan - one of your oldest acquaintances (and Maria's fiance) were gay.

You didn't really care for all the drama or your brother's and your cousin's love life. Though him sticking his nose into yours was kind of bold considering his situation.

Alastor raised an eyebrow at your little dispute, but you just quietly shook your head, signaling him to not worry about it.

Then, finally, the two of you entered the dining hall.

It was way bigger and more pretentious than Alastor thought was necessary. Though he could respect a man who had his priorities straight. Speaking of who...

When your father entered the room, Alastor noticed you immediately straightening your posture.

The man had a cold look on his face as he looked Alastor up and down.

But Alastor didn't seem fazed at all. He stepped closer to the man and held out his hand to him.

"Mister L/N, it is an honor to be meeting you. My name is Alastor." The two men shook hands, which was followed by an awkward moment of silence with your father scrutinizing Alastor and him fixing his suit.

You had to admit Alastor had to either be an extremely good actor or he just really didn't give too many fucks about your father's opinion. Either way his ability to not be intimidated by him was quite impressive.

Your father invited the two of you to sit down, explaining the cooks will have the food ready soon.

And when the food finally arrived - after another extremely long and awkward silence - Alastor seemed delighted. It did seem to be quite an expensive meal, at least. However, the seasonings were a little lackluster compared to what he was used to.

"So, Alastor. What is it you do for a living?" Your father asked.

And so, a moment of your father asking Alastor questions and him answering with a grin started. It was kinda odd watching the two of them - both seemed extremely calculated and like there was always some underlying message in their words. All in all, it was just a lot of passive-aggressiveness.

When you were at the point where you were pretty sure they actually hated each other you excused yourself to the bathroom. Though you hated to leave the two of them alone with each other, you just couldn't take it anymore.

When you returned to them, the only wish you had was that no one died, but what actually happened was even more surprising.

Your father smiled.

He. fucking. smiled. At Alastor.

And he patted him on the shoulder like a proud father would to his son.

Beyond shocked, you tried to look at the clock on the wall or pinch yourself or look for any other clues that you may just be in some kind of fucked-up lucid dream.

But you didn't find any. Then your father looked at you and nodded in approval.

As you were currently trying not to die of a heart attack from complete shock - Alastor stepped at your side and pulled you towards him by the waist. "I'm going to return home again now, but I will call you by the end of the day if that is alright with you?" He asked.

"I... uh, sure." You answered and after giving you a quick kiss on the cheek Alastor left, the staff leading him outside.

Now you were alone in the room with your father.

God... this was embarrassing. You were about to leave and go to your room when your father spoke. "You like this man, don't you?"

You froze.

"I- uh guess... No, I... I do." You answered, your face turning even more red than before.

Your father nodded. "Good for you. Stick with a person you really like, alright?"

You were confused by his sudden honest advice but nodded.

When you returned to your room that night you continued wondering about what the hell Alastor and your father were talking about, while you were gone until you fell asleep.

--------------

"It's unlike you to not bring a radio." You grinned at Alastor. Both of you were sitting on a picnic blanket together. Just like on your first date.

But this time he hadn't prepared the food on his own, but both of you had, together.

Alastor gave you a small smile after your statement, but it was more hesitant than usual. "Do you know why?" He asked you.

You blinked at him perplexed. "Uh... no?"

He smiled, "Being a radio host is something I love doing. And it's also a mask I can hide behind. You could say it's something like my persona... But I don't feel like I have to act like my persona in front of you."

Touched by his words you took his hand in yours and looked into his eyes. He looked back into yours and smiled. You knew Alastor pretty well at this point, so you knew by now that most of his smiles were fake. It was a mask he wore to always appear in control of a situation.

But in his eyes, you could see that he actually meant to smile at you at this moment.

"I'm not sure I can ever completely disable it. But I want to try. For you." He added, genuinely.

Alastor was a prideful man, but he not only admitted his weakness in front of you, but he also promised to try to do better for you. You weren't sure if anyone else would get it like the two did, but you knew this meant really much to him right now. And you were grateful.

He now took both of your hands in his. "I'm going to be honest with you now... because I know I can be with you. I always thought love was stupid. But I don't think that anymore; ever since I met you. And even if it was, I'd think it's okay as long as I can be with you. Meeting you was the was best thing that happened in my entire life. And you accepting to be with me was more than I could ever ask for. Especially when you continued to stay with me through... things no one would have. I love you, Y/N. And I am sure of that now."

You felt a lump inside your throat at his extremely sweet and honest words. Trying to blink away tears, you cleared your throat to respond but Alastor stopped you with a finger on your mouth.

Then he pulled something out of his pocket and kneeled in front of you.

Your eyes widened in shock.

"Y/N.... I love you. And I would like to spend my entire life with you. And I promise that I would tear apart heaven and hell for you, if you only asked me to. Please stay with me and be my partner forever and I will be yours. Y/N L/N... Will you marry me?"

...

You covered your mouth with your hand in disbelief and tears started actually welling up your eyes now.

You never actually thought you'd react so stereotypically. But that was probably because you never thought you'd actually love someone that much. So much, that you wanted to bind yourself to them by law. And form a family with them.

But you did. Being expected to stay with him forever and have a family is something that you want now. With him.

"I... I-" Your voice broke and you started crying. Alastor gave you a gentle smile and held your face in his hand. "Darling?"

"I- I do..." you whispered, with tears streaming down your face now. Alastor smiled softly, wiping them away with his thumb and kissing you on your cheek, then your nose, and then your mouth. Then he pulled away with a soft smile again.

"I love you..." He whispered, sliding the engagement ring on your finger.

You smiled at each other, then you kissed again.

In this moment you thought that every struggle in your life had been worth it, just so you could live until this moment.

The two of you stayed like this together for a while.

In a park, underneath a big tree with pink flowers. You leaned your head against Alastor's shoulder - imagining to be together with him for the rest of your life now. Just like he asked you to.

After a while, the two of you had to get up though. After packing together all of your things Alastor smiled at you with pure love in his eyes, taking your hand and planting a kiss on the back of it.

He was so gentle with you, always.

Then the two of you walked back, him planning to bring you to your house.

But on your way, you were interrupted... by someone you knew all too well.

A tall, blonde boy recognized you and walked towards Alastor and you with confidence.

"Actually, let's go that way." You said, dragging Alastor in the opposite direction, the one you were just coming from.

But it was no use.

"Y/N!!" You heard the voice of the very person you were trying to hide from right behind you.

Annoyed you sighed and turned towards him. "Heyy... Alan..! What are you doing here?" He would never be downtown by his own choice.

"What do you mean? Even I sometimes mingle around... peasants." He said while looking around the place with a raised eyebrow.

Yeah, you highly doubted that. But why would he be here then?

He cleared his throat. "My fair maiden, Y/N. Let us unite in the bond of marriage-"

"Woah, okay....!" You interrupted him and stared at him dumbfounded. "...Are you fucking kidding me?"

You certainly never expected to be proposed to twice. On a single day.

Alan tried to stay composed and just answered: "Please, watch your language fair maiden-"

"What the hell? What are you trying to do..?!" You asked irritated. But when you thought about it some more you realized it.

He blew his chance to marry your cousin Maria - and his parents pressured him to marry into your family in at least some way.

Although he had an affair with your brother, their relationship wasn't socially accepted, so officially marrying you would be the smartest move on his part.

And since you were chronically single, he probably thought this wouldn't be a problem.

But you just had to suddenly be in a relationship, when it was important to him for you not to be. You never had been in a relationship before... so why now??

That's what he thought at least. You on the other hand were just embarrassed by his proposal.

Obviously, both of you weren't actually interested in the other, but even besides that: you two knew each other since you were children. And you were a year older than he was and still remembered when he was just a spoiled little brat - which he still is - but even besides that, he was just a kid to you. Or like... an annoying younger sibling you want to cut contact with.

You felt Alastor tense next to you, the grip on your hand tightening.

God...

Alastor has always been the possessive type, so this definitely won't go well, if this conversation continues.

Alan noticed Alastor's angry glare and gave him a cocky grin. "My apologies, didn't see you there. Who is this? Are you Y/N's friend?"

Great. Now it definitely felt like the aura around Alastor was darkening.

"Alan... please stop your antics. Even if I wasn't engaged now," you showed him your ring to further demonstrate your point, "I would rather die."

Alan furrowed his eyebrows, trying not to look irritated at your statement.

"Always the feisty one. We always did have so much in common-"

"Come on, we both know the only thing you like about me is my brother."

Now his grin finally faded and he glared at you.

So that finally hit a nerve...

"Okay, you listen now Missy: I wanted to make this easy for all of us, but if you want to play dirty - I can play dirty." Now he directed his gaze at Alastor, "You are just some no-name and you do not belong in this family."

You expected Alastor to get even angrier, but to your surprise, he just seemed amused by the boy's speech. "Actually, I am a famous radio host!" Alastor retorted.

"Really? So, why have I never heard of you then?" Alan asked while crossing his arms.

"Obviously, because you're uncultured." Alastor grinned.

"Oh, you're calling me uncultured?! You little-" Alan gritted his teeth but held back from actually insulting Alastor, who just raised his brow at him. "Listen, I mean this in the kindest way possible: back off or you'll regret it."

At that Alastor just straight up laughed in his face. "You're going to make me regret it? How so?" He hummed.

"Glad you asked." Alan pulled out some neatly folded papers from his pocket. After he carefully unfolded them he read: "The evil serial killer of Louisiana. Probably a man in his 20s to 30s, is suspected to also have killed the previously most popular radio-star of the area. Strangely, this gave rise to Alastor - the now most popular radio-star of the same area, who has publicly declared his dislike for the man even before his death. Maybe we should look into this a little more, hm? Especially since I've noticed that the free time of this certain new radio-star perfectly fits with the times the killer's victims had been killed."

You blinked in surprise, while Alastor's expression didn't change.

"This is no proof. Also, it's impossible, Alastor and I have been together in his free time." You immediately defended him.

"All of his free time?" Alan raised a brow and smirked.

"Yeah..." you lied.

Alan just rolled his eyes, "Look, I really don't care. And I bet the police won't care too much about concrete evidence either with people like him."

God, he was gonna pay for that comment...

You released Alastor's hand and clenched your fists in anger. But before you could step any closer to the man Alastor stopped you with a smile - his eyes radiating malice.

"Let me handle this, darling."

Oh shit.

Alastor stepped close to Alan, who just rolled his eyes and chuckled. "What are you going to do? Hit me?"

Alastor didn't respond and you saw him ball his right hand into a fist. Alan saw that and tried backing off, but was interrupted by Alastor's fist colliding with his jaw at full force.

He immediately fell to the ground with a loud thud. People started gathering around you now to see what was happening.

Alan let out pained moans and covered his face with his hands, you saw droplets of blood falling to the ground from Alan's face.

Shit, this must have hurt really really bad. Alastor is physically a lot stronger than he looks, because of his hobby as a... hunter.

Even you felt a little sorry for the boy now.

Alastor didn't though and just wiped his hand on his coat.

"Fuck, you... you broke my nose!" Alan shouted angrily looking up at him while holding his nose.

Alastor just smiled and calmly leaned down to cower over him. Alan immediately shut up and his eyes widened. "Let this be a warning, boy. But if you bother us again, I will make you wish you were never even born in the same universe as me. Do you understand that?" Alastor whispered calmly.

Alan looked like he was about to actually shit his pants - too scared to even nod. Alastor then grabbed the papers from his hands and tore them in half in front of his eyes. "And you better not tell a single soul about your little discoveries."

Then he got up and cleared his throat, returning to your side with a smile and taking your hand in his.

Everyone around you was silent, besides a few people whispering.

"Anyway... How about we eat Jambalaya this evening? We can cook it together, I heard my mother and you spent some time together to learn her recipe."

-----------

Taglist ♡

@cryptidghostgirl @adeadreader @yourdoorisunlocked @spirit-of-the-hollow

A/N:

I actually didn't expect to write that much for the living world, but yeah. I'm like rewatching Hazbin Hotel for the 8929383 time and FINALLY want to write reader's relationship with Charlie, Angel, Demon Alastor, etc.

Btw, Maria and Ashton and Alan... our little oc side characters will maybe even be there in hell! Yay..?

Also, I'm sure this goes without saying, but if you want to imagine some things differently you always can. This is obviously just my own self-indulgent story, even when I try to water things down to make this as reader-neutral as possible.

You can always give me suggestions as long as the story is going on! Right now I'm thinking about whether or not to give Alastor and reader a child before they die. They have a relatively traditional relationship during that time and Alastor is 23 rn and dies with 30+ so the possibility would be pretty high. Tell me your opinions, please, if you have time.

Thank you guys for reading! I'm greatful for all of your support, I mean it(: Thank you for leaving likes and comments. It keeps me motivated.

[hottpinkpenguin]

Why are you looking at me like that?" "I like to look at beautiful things

With Darkling?

The Most Beautiful Thing - Darkling X Fem!Reader

A/n: thank you for your patience anon! hope you love it :) Word Count: 2368 Warnings: none (not proofread)

“Genya, you cannot be serious.”

She smirked at your reflection in the mirror, a look of mock offense on her face.

“Y/n, whatever do you mean?” 

She stifled a laugh as she continued pinning up your hair, plunging a few more pins into your hair. Her levity made your mood more sour and resentful.

“I’m glad you’re having fun with this,” you spat back petulantly. “I am not wearing this.”

You gestured down at the emerald green gown that Genya had procured for the occasion. It was a beautiful piece of handiwork, no argument there, but on you? It looked preposterous. You’d never seen this much of your own skin before, and the thought of wearing this in front of Ravka’s nobility made your stomach turn. The neckline was low - dangerously low, you thought, as you tried to pull the watery-smooth silk higher up on your chest to cover more of your decolletage. The side slit running up your leg was so high it felt immodest. With a well-placed breeze or a misstep on the dance floor, you worried that all of Ravkan royalty would get a healthy look at your backside. 

“Oh, stop being so dramatic,” Genya chided you as she pulled out a strategic curl of hair from your hairline. “You look stunning and you know it. You’re just fishing for compliments.”

You shook your head earnestly and too violently for her tastes. She playfully smacked you on the shoulder, barking the command “hold still!” as she continued to fuss over your hair. 

“Genya, I am as serious as the day is long,” you murmured. She raised a skeptical eyebrow at you in the mirror as she twined another sprig of baby’s breath into the hair at the crown of your head. “This dress is something for the Queen, but me? Gods, what will people think?”

“They will think that you have an exquisite eye for fashion,” Genya replied smartly, her voice taking on a more serious tone. She was getting irritated, you realized, and maybe rightfully so. She had made the dress herself, after all. When you’d told her that Ivan, arguably the second-highest rank Grisha general in the Second Army, had invited you to the Ravkan Court’s Winter Ball, she had practically fainted with excitement. You, for your part, had been less than keen on the event. Your ridiculous appearance was confirming your worst fears true: you would be laughed at. Ivan, Zoya, Fedyor. Even Alina at this rate. You had no business in these fine silks and lavish stones. The closest you’d ever come to finery before was the red kefta you’d received as a Heartrender when you’d enlisted in the Second Army three years prior. 

“Y/n, look at me.” Genya grabbed the seat of your stool and swung you around, away from the mirror where you were chewing on your lip and staring at your own reflection. You hardly recognized yourself. The ridiculous worry that Ivan - your oldest friend - wouldn’t recognize you whipped across your mind like a strong breeze.

Genya grabbed either side of your cheeks, forcing you to meet her eyes. She was already dressed for the event, having devoted most of the afternoon to preening and fussing over you. Her gown was a soft, sunrise-pink with delicate lace layers that seemed to melt into her skin at the sleeves and hem. She had a small cluster of baby blue delphinium blossoms tucked above one of her ears, and her red hair was long and loose around her shoulders. She looked glorious - a picture of the gentleness of spring amidst a harsh Ravkan winter. Her beauty only sank you further into despair. Next to her, you looked gaudy. 

“You look incredible,” she said pointedly and firmly. “You feel ridiculous, but that is not the same thing as looking ridiculous.” 

Against your better judgment, you considered her point. It made sense, you decided, and you felt a bit of that fearful tension in your chest loosen. You took a shaky breath in, feeling the chain of coral and moonstone gems around your neck rise and fall with your inhales and exhales.

“Tonight is about allowing ourselves to enjoy what being a Grisha in the Second Army has to offer,” she continued, letting go of either side of your face. Her hands interlaced with yours in your lap. “Tonight is about fun.”

You continued to steady your breathing, slowly allowing yourself to realize how ridiculous you were acting. You’d gone into battles before, for God’s sake. You’d stopped the hearts of your enemies and restarted those of your friends. You’d trained and bled and almost died for Ravka dozens of times. And here you were, cowering in your dressing room, because you had to wear a dress? 

“I suppose you’re right,” you replied after a moment. Your voice quavered slightly, but you were beginning to feel yourself relax. As always, Genya proved herself to be the tonic that you needed.

“Good,” she concluded, rising from her chair with a chipper smile. “Now that I’ve saved you from your own self-consciousness, can we head to the throne room? We’re already late.” 

You glanced at the window outside, noticing that the horizon was turning from burgundy to a dark, plum-wine color. It was much later than you’d realized. Rising from the stool on shaky legs, you let Genya whisk you out of your chambers. The cool evening breeze running over your legs - an undeniable reminder of that precariously high slit - threatened to undo what little composure you’d managed to recover. You did your best to press the concern from your mind and followed along behind Genya. She practically danced down the candlelit guest corridor of the Royal Palace. You could hear the distant sound of a crowded party: an indistinct murmur of voices, clinking glass, and somewhere beneath that the delicate melody of a violin trio playing a jaunty waltz.

“Genya! There you are! We’ve been waiting!” David raised a hand in greeting, a broad smile breaking across his usually somber face. Genya playfully huffed as she skipped the last few steps, her fingers locking with his outreached hand. 

“It takes quite a while to prepare oneself for events like these, you know,” she replied cheekily to David. He smiled indulgently at her before nodding courteously in your direction. 

“Y/n, Ivan asked me to tell you to wait here. He forgot something in his quarters. He won’t be but a moment.” 

Your heart skipped a beat in your chest as you realized what David was asking. He wanted you to wait here, alone?

“Well, perhaps I can go in with you and we can all rendezvous with Ivan when he gets back?” you countered, falling into step at Genya’s shoulder.

“No, nonsense!” she protested, placing a firm hand on your elbow and halting your momentum. “Stay here for Ivan, it won’t be long. It’s not proper to enter these kinds of events without your companion,” she told you insistently. Before you could argue, her and David had swept off, leaving you alone at the top of the staircase. In the hall below, you could see the shadows of incoming partygoers as they meandered towards the sounds of the ball, which were considerably louder now. A warm, inviting light from the direction of the throne room beckoned the attendees in, and delicious aromas wafted up to meet you. 

Feeling put out and out-of-place, you leaned back against the banister of the stairway, silently urging Ivan to hurry up as you lost sight of David and Genya in the crowd. You were truly alone now, nothing but you, your jewels, and the risque green gown. You fidgeted with a strand of hair that Genya had expertly teased out to frame your face, trying to remember what she had said to you that had eased your worries back in your dressing chambers. Looking out of place isn’t the same thing as feeling out of place… or was it the other way around? Just because you feel something doesn't mean you don’t look it? 

You were tripping over your own thoughts, anxiety and frustration increasing by the moment, when suddenly you had the spine-tingling awareness that you weren’t alone anymore.

You turned to find a tall, imposing figure standing a few feet behind you. Your heart jumped into your chest and you practically toppled down the stairs in your rush to salute the man in front of you. 

General Kirigan seemed to materialize out of the darkness as if he were made of shadow himself. His black kefta was gleaming in the candlelight, along with his coal-dark eyes. He was taller than you’d expected, and devastatingly handsome. His expression was unreadable with the faintest smile playing across his lips, his posture straight and regal. You’d only seen him from great distances, never this close before. And up close, he was every inch the legend that you and so many other Grisha revered. He oozed an easy restraint, the kind of genteel manner that sets true leaders and royalty apart from the rest, but beneath that veneer of control was the vibrating frequency of raw power. It both terrified and thrilled you.

“General Kirigan, sir, I didn’t see you there.” You stammered and saluted clumsily, the motion feeling laughably mismatched with your attire. His eyes glimmered with amusement as he bowed gallantly. 

“Y/n, I believe, isn’t it?” he asked, his voice smooth and dark like running water. You couldn’t hide your shock to hear him call you by name.

“It is, yes sir,” you replied with surprise as a deep flush painted your cheeks. The General’s eyes flickered over you with a glint of satisfaction that you were certain you imagined. 

“Ivan speaks very highly of you,” he continued with ease. He spoke as if talking to someone he’d known for years, with a confidence and fluidity that had always eluded you. 

Uncertain of how best to respond, you merely nodded, swallowing thickly. You were beginning to feel uneasy under his gaze. It was probing and unflinching, not lecherous but not entirely proper either. The flame in your cheeks grew hotter as you dropped your eyes, studying the plush red carpet runner on the marble staircase.

“I see you’ve chosen green tonight,” General Kirigan commented, gesturing at your gown. The abruptness with which he addressed your attire made you wish you could vaporize on the spot. It confirmed your worst fears: you looked so ridiculous that the Black General felt the need to point it out.

Unable to meet his eyes, you only nodded again, self-consciously smoothing the emerald silk against the sides of your hips. 

“It suits you.” 

The wind felt sucked out of your chest. You looked up at the General with a dumbfounded expression. His smile broadened, the first genuine and unrestrained expression you’d seen on him yet. Your mind went completely blank as his singular attention intoxicated you. Your mouth opened and closed futilely, your cheeks no longer ablaze with embarrassment but with a different, more primal heat. The sensation was unwelcome, especially in front of the highest commanding officer of the Second Army, but it couldn’t be helped. You tried to steady your fidgeting hands by looping one across your stomach to hold the inside of your opposite elbow, then playing idly with the coral and moonstones of your necklace, but nothing helped. All the while, the General’s eyes danced across your face, not quite searching, not quite settling. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you blurted out recklessly after a few more moments under his scrutiny. He smirked, running a hand through his midnight-black hair and chuckling as if you’d said something funny. The dimming candle glow in the staircase caught the angles of his face in a mesmerizing dance of light and shadow. Your heart pirouetted in your chest, suddenly acutely aware of how beautiful he was, and how very close he was.

“I like looking at beautiful things,” he commented casually. It took you a heartbeat before you caught his meaning. He stepped towards you, so close that you felt the teasing breeze of his breath fluttering the strands of your hair that framed your face. He found your hand in an easy motion and raised your knuckles to his lips, holding your eyes with a smoldering gaze. He pressed a firm kiss the smooth skin on the back of your hand, sending goosebumps rippling up your arm and shivering all the way down your spine. 

“And you are the most beautiful thing,” he murmured with a final sweeping and appreciative gaze up one side of you and down the other. 

He dropped your hand gently and turned away from you, descending the stairs towards the sound of the party. You let out the breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding, leaning back against the staircase railing to balance yourself on suddenly unsteady legs. Your eyes followed him, your heart beating wildly in your chest as your still-blank mind tried to fumble through the interaction. He half-turned back in your direction and hesitated at the bottom of the stairs. 

Your legs were moving before your mind knew what was happening. You wer halfway down the stairs before you understood that he was waiting for you and that you were walking to him. A distant part of your mind reminded you that you were supposed to be waiting for Ivan.

You swatted that thought away with a half-smile as you imagined Ivan’s reaction to seeing you at the party on the General’s arm. You’d never hear the end of it. 

It’s worth it, you decided as the General held out an arm for you, sparkles in his eyes. Your arm threaded around his with a well-practiced movement that felt as natural as breathing. 

“Y/n,” General Kirigan murmured with a satisfied smile in your direction. 

“General,” you replied, shooting him a sly half-smile. 

“Shall we, then?” he asked politely, inclining his head in the direction of the ball. You nodded happily, allowing him to lead you down the hall and into the brighter lit of the crowded ballroom, all fears and worries evaporated from your mind…

[evaglass]

Four men, four countries

So I'm just posting and speculating for fun. This is a small theory, but I think it would be interesting if each of the four men were from each country in the British Isles.

So we already know that Fowler is from Ireland, but we don't know about Violet's, Skeffington's, and Routley's origins aside from the fact that they're most likely from the British Isles. Usually, you can tell where someone is from by their surnames, not always, but usually; however, I don't think that will help us in this case. The reason why I don't think the mens' surnames will give clues on where they're from is because I don't think they're using their real names.

The reason I think those names are aliases rather than their actual names is due to the timeframe and historical context. There is no way around the late 16th century to early 17th century would an Irish child be named Abijah Fowler; he would have most likely been named after his paternal grandfather if he was the oldest son, and it would be an Irish Gaelic name, along with his surname also being Irish Gaelic.

It also makes sense that the men are not using their birth names as they are participating in the black market.

However, I think I can at least make an educated guess on where each the men could be from.

Violet - I think he's English, I also think he was somewhat of the leader in that group. Violet was referred to as "old Violet," which could mean he's an old friend or he was possibly very elderly, maybe the eldest out of the four men.

It would make sense if he was the eldest, considering in the flashback he seemed very easy to kill. I also want to bring up that Fowler genuinely seemed upset about Violet's death and looked like he was genuinely going to kill Mizu for it. I believe each of the four men came from harsh upbringings, like Fowler, and I think Violet was likely the first to go into that sort of black market lifestyle and took the other three men under his wing. It's likely Violet took Fowler in after he lost his sister and thought him everything he knew.

It's a bit tricky to figure out Skeffington and Routley, especially if the surnames do turn out to just be aliases. So, let's look at the names from a more metaphorical lense instead.

Skeffington - so when I do a quick Google search of the name Skeffington, its meaning has roots in the words 'sheep' and 'farmstead', which you'll find a lot of both in Wales. A bit on the nose, to be honest.

Routley - looking into the meaning of the surname, Routley was a bit more difficult as apparently to some sources, the meaning is lost, but according to ancestry, the surnames can be associated with the term 'cliff', and Scotland makes 60% of cliffs in Britain. RIP Welsh Routley theory, you will be missed

Another thing is that I believe that Skeffington will be the most sadistic, as someone on another post pointed out that Skeffington can also be referred to as Skevington, which is also the name of a torture device know as Skevington's daughter. His last name having ties to the term sheep can also be used to foreshadow his personality as a wolf in steep clothing, someone who's a mindless sheep (a blind follower), or even a sheep in wolves clothing because deep down he's a coward.

As for Routley, I can assume he's probably the youngest out of the four. Also, let's be honest, many of us believe he's either Mizu's father, or if you believe in the European mother theory, then most would believe he's at least her uncle because of the 'pretty eyes' comment. It's very likely that Routley will be the most significant target to Mizu, and he'll play a big part in season 2. Which might mean Mizu be half of

In all seriousness, it could be possible that each for four are from one of each country in the British Isles as during that time frame it could be beneficial for the group for one person to know Welsh, another to know Irish Gaelic, and another to know Scottish Gaelic. I also want to point out that, apparently, the surname Violet comes from the term 'pathway', I guess Violet painted the pathway for the other three men to join him.

Take this with a huge grain of salt as this is just a theory for fun.

[katy-l1988]

Head canon/Theory Part 10:

The rise of the Vee's

We all know that Vee's are, in short, cowards and hypocrites, who, as you would expect from a demon...do things by trickery.

They aren't the type to get their hands dirty and risk their necks. They wanted war so that those Overlods with greater resources, like Carmilla and Rosie, would lose their "capital" in battle.

Why? Again, the Vee's don't have many "assets":

Vox has his technology but it doesn't work in battle.

Velvette has social media and, if, Harley Quinn-type guns.

Valentino has...porn actors? Oh yeah, and some guns.

Now, what does the song say about this? (I only put the most important fragments)

[Vox] After the battle, masterless cattle

By "cattle" he refers to the sinners of course, who in the absence of Extermination no longer fear, and know that they can defend themselves from any heavenly threat.

With proper guidance, they could do what the Vee's originally wanted, declare war on Heaven itself.

[Vox & Valentino] Overlords hanging by a thread

By Overlords here it refers to: Carmilla, Rosie and Alastor, since they are the ones who were involved in the defense of Hazbin Hotel.

Rosie gave Charlie free rein to convince her people to fight, risking their lives and therefore her power.

Carmilla armed the cannibals to the teeth, and that means a lot of weapons that won't be recovered. Furthermore, in the absence of the Extermination, Carmilla won't be able to get her greatest raw material…Celestial steel.

Alastor, needless to say, ended up seriously injured by a celestial weapon and I doubt he'll be 100% after that.

[Vox] Alastor's missing

[Vox & Valentino] Fled with his tail between his legs Nature abhors a power vacuum

That leaves room for you and me The future of Hell belongs to the Vees

Now, if they want to rise to the top, they'll have to do something similar to what Mimzy claims Alastor did. Eliminate the most powerful Overlords...

But how if Alastor defeated Vox just by talking to him?

We all have weaknesses, humans, demons, angels. And what's more interesting than the weaknesses of these Overlords, be other Overlords (pardon the redundancy). And in Carmilla's case, her daughters.

Alastor/Rosie

I feel that Alastor, despite his mysteries and how defeated he was in battle, would do anything for someone he loved. Rosie is certainly someone he would go crazy for… I mean, if he blew Sir Pentious away for a piece of cloth, what would he do to someone who hurt Rosie?

Zestial/Carmilla

We don't know anything about Zestial so far, but he is certainly a character that strikes fear into the masses. What did he do in the past? After all, he is the oldest in hell.

Now, can you imagine the chaos he would cause if they threatened Carmilla or the girls? God, he would burn everything to protect them.

Carmilla/Odette & Clara

We've already seen much of Carmilla's abilities, and while she defends herself well, her daughters make her an easy target. It is enough for them to capture her daughters, for her to hand over everything she has worked for, even…her life.

Vee's enemies

Furthermore, we already saw that each Vee's has a "counterpart", an Overlord enemy...one they consider outdated.

Now, I know that many will say that Valentino's enemy is Angel, because he wants to kill him as soon as he "betrays" him. But following the rule of three, there should be an Overlord to unhinge him.

Zestial is a strong possibility, given that just as Valentino is a "Bug Demon", so to speak. Valentino is a moth and Zestial is a spider.

Now, the biggest conflict would be regarding their vision of people:

Zestial: He is an intelligent man who knows how to control his feelings. He is kind, understanding, and concerned with his loved ones. He doesn't like impulsivity or childishness. He's a gentleman, and he wouldn't tolerate Valentino's treatment of people at all. I mean…if he did to Carmilla what he did to Charlie, or Angel, he'd be dead.

Valentino: He is impulsive, machiavellian, cruel, carefree, interested…I can go on. He is the complete opposite of Zestial.

Rosie could be an option too, being elegant, refined, and quite helpful compared to Valentino. She has good manners and would correct Valentino all the time...Plus, she's friends with his boyfriend's enemy, what more does he want to hate her?

If the Vee's want power, they will attack here…

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I know ramshackle was put in the game more for convenience than anything, but I wonder if the story will ever tell a bit about its past and how it was originally used? if there was someone that represented the dorm like the great seven does with the others or if it was a dorm before nrc became the way it is today? (like maybe the dorms didn't represent one of the 7 at the beginning?)

I'd personally really love to get to know more about Ramshackle dorm! ^^ There's so many fan theories on the topic (and especially about what led to its collapse and who, if any, the dorm is meant to be "representative" of), but each one is wildly different from the last and there doesn't seem to be any consensus in the fandom about it. We don't really know a lot about Ramshackle other than the general idea that it was once considered a dorm, but has since fallen from grace and is no longer recognized as one. What happened to its students? What was the event that led to Ramshackle's current destitute state? There's a lot more to this story that we just aren't seeing yet.

One common misconception I see is that Eliza (the Ghost Bride) claims Ramshackle dorm as part of her fallen kingdom, which may implicate some kind of ghostly or supernatural being as Ramshackle’s figure. However, this is not actually true. Eliza does come from a fallen kingdom AND she uses Ramshackle dorm as her base of operations—but the two are not directly connected. Crowley sites that Eliza chooses to use Ramshackle every year on her hunt for her prince “out of all the decrepit, abandoned dwellings in this world”. This implies Eliza could literally pick any place, but happened to pick Ramshackle (most likely to kick off the event story, and/or because it’s implied Ramshackle is an attractive dwelling place for ghosts, hence in part why the Ramshackle ghosts haunt it).

I also wonder??? If Ramshackle was even modeled after a particular "figure" to begin with? I really do not get those vibes at all; there is no particularly noteworthy iconography that would tie it down to one very "clear cut" classic villain (assuming it is one, like the others in the G7). Why would Ramshackle be the only "abnormal" dorm??? And speaking of the G7??? I find it odd that no one ever makes reference to a figure like them for Ramshackle. It's not like any character ever says there's a "G8"??? Or even speaks of a figure of equal greatness to them outside of the G7 (similar to the Just Judge at Noble Bell College). Like, even if Ramshackle itself is no longer relevant, that doesn't mean a historical figure linked to Ramshackle would be irrelevant too. Their deeds and accomplishments still exist. You'd think that would be important to bring up, even off handedly or in a vague mention. (Or is this a part of the “history can be erased an manipulated” stuff Lilia brought up??)

In canon, Pomefiore is said to be the oldest dorm (so unless there are extenuating circumstances, I don't think Ramshackle existed in a dormitory capacity until after at least Pomefiore was a thing). The wording can also imply that the other dorms came after (ie Pomefiore was established first, or the dorm system itself came much later). It's also interesting to note that, unlike the other dorms, Ramshackle does not exist in its own pocket dimension, but rather on the same main campus plot of land that houses NRC's other facilities. I wonder if this detail is actually historically significant somehow.

I really hope that some of these questions (if not all of them) will be answered in the future 😅 I feel like they are very important for world-building and shouldn't be left to the boring explanation of "well, it's the player/plot convenience, so..."

[proxylynn]

My theory of Hazbin Hotel's main plot.

[This may just be a hot take or me whimsically spitballing headcanon, but I have thought about this and, while I don't have all the puzzle's pieces, I think I have enough to make out a decent picture. So bear with me as I unload the insanity that has been in my head since entering the Hellaverse.]

Starting things off, I think the main villain/antagonist of HH's plot is the obvious elephant in the room...Roo aka The Root of ALL Evil.

According to Vivziepop, Roo is a "looming threat in the distance", possibly hinting toward her being a future antagonist and she mentioned that there is no character that she is more excited to get into than Roo, but, she also mentioned that it's "gonna be a long time". So likely we won't see her properly till season three but get hints throughout season two and teased at the end. I will make no claim that "defeating" Roo solves everything in the universe because that's nonsense. There is no good without evil. So you can't just off Roo who's been there since the beginning. And I mean THE beginning. I'm talking the creation of EVERYTHING.

"Angels that worshiped good and shielded all from evil."

Evil exists at the start before Lucifer does anything, this is a fact. So where am I going with this? Let's continue down the line. To the one driving my train of thought...Lilith.

For someone who didn't eat the fruit of the knowledge of good and evil, Lilith was very aware of certain things and had independent free will. But humanity didn't get this autonomy till after the fruit fiasco, so what happened? Why did Lilith have magic main character self-awareness? Well, let's think about this...Why was there such a tree in Eden in the first place? The Angels are making this a paradise and keeping evil out of Earth. So why place a tree in there that would fuck it all up? This was why they didn't want Lucifer making shit because they were worried his ideas would be too risky and bad could happen. So again, why was this tree here? What if...The Angels didn't make it.

I propose, as her name so implies, that Roo sprouted the tree up without the Angels knowing in the hopes the fruit would be eaten and allow evil to taint the world. Lilith might have gotten a hint of what the tree granted and what simple veil that clouded her eyes was lifted enough to make her reject Adam and flee the garden. It's even said that "together" she and Lucifer share the gift of free will with Eve, but Lilith seems to take this stand back and watch approach when Lucifer gives her the fruit, almost like she's uncertain what eating it will do so she keeps her distance. This again, also hints that Lilith has had free will from the start and didn't eat the fruit because it was only when Eve ate the fruit did evil finally break the seal to enter Earth.

"As punishment for their reckless act, Heaven cast Lucifer and his love into the dark pit he had created."

Now here's where it gets a bit more headcanony because this line could mean nothing or everything. Lucifer and Lilith are banished to the newly made Hell. I repeat...Heaven cast Lucifer and Lilith into Hell. Nowhere does it say she died. So...We have the first human woman who didn't eat the fruit and never died. By technically, Lilith still has her immortality. She's the oldest human alive. It's also stated Lucifer shares his power with her (and Charlie), which makes sense if she's just some dull human. So, now imbued with this mix of angel/demon rizz, Lilith becomes even more OP and Hell's mary sue Queen that dominates like the bad boss bitch she is.

"Lilith thrived, empowering demonkind with her voice and her songs. And as the numbers of Hell grew, so did its power."

Lilith as a character has a surprisingly decent amount of info to work with considering we only saw her for the smallest moment. So here's some goodies I've collected from the wiki that are of note.

{According to Vivziepop, Lilith is the "big, slowburn mystery" of the show, adding that we are going to slowly start getting answers over the course of the "next couple seasons", and that season two gives some more pieces to it.}

{When asked about what Lilith was like, Faustisse described Lilith as graceful, regal, and politically charged. Lilith is someone who is exceptionally equanimous. This was implied in "Overture" as in the "Story of Hell" book she is depicted helping Hell thrive over the years using her voice and her songs.}

{When asked about Lilith and Lucifer's dynamic, Faustisse believed their relationship could be summed up with the phrase, "Behind every man is a greater woman", and that they love each other very much. They describe Lilith and Lucifer as "passionate, cheesy lovers". They are of the opinion that Lilith "wears the pants" in her family, but they think both Lilith and Lucifer are switches within their intimate life.}

{When asked about Lilith's powers, Faustisse declined to answer, citing possible spoilers for the main series. They did, however, state that they did not think Lilith had wings like Charlie and Lucifer, although saw no reason why she wouldn't be able to manifest them if she wished. According to Faustisse, Lilith can change the shape of her horns, but it's unlikely this will be shown in practice in the series as it would apparently be difficult to show that kind of constant change over consecutive scenes.}

{When asked if the Eden family have some connection to the royal family as well, Vivziepop declined to answer one way or the other.}

{Due to her origins as a former human, it is likewise unclear if Lilith is connected to the Sinners, who are deceased humans and became demons after death; as Lilith was alive when she was banished to Hell, her transition between human and demon is ambiguous.}

{Faustisse has suggested that she is somewhat good with children}

{Lilith disappeared seven years prior to the series for reasons unknown, never responding to any of her daughter's attempts to call her. Curiously, she was missing the same amount of years as Alastor. Lilith was later revealed to be in Heaven in "The Show Must Go On". Although the exact reasons remain unknown, it was heavily alluded to that she had made a deal with Adam at some point.}

You might look at all this and be like "Lynn, you dummy, we know all this. This is just random stuff". Oh, I think not. Because in just these bits we get so much. Let's begin with the character setup for diving into my main theory.

I think Lilith does love her family. She has a loving and amazing husband in Lucifer and in Charlotte (aka Charlie) the most adorable and kindhearted daughter any mother could ask for. As Queen, she took charge and made Hell less of a pit to wallow and suffer in, and more like a new home to begin anew. So then...What happened? Why would she suddenly leave and cut all communications? Here is where we dig into the meat of it all. My theory of why Lilith left.

Remember how I said Lilith didn't eat the fruit and still had free will then pounded that over and over into you? Well, going on what I said about her getting "a hint of what the tree granted", Roo could've infected Lilith and gifted her awareness while in Eden. Now in Hell where Roo is arguably stronger due to all the sin and sickness that permeates the realm, her influence on Lilith would increase. Lilith, being the big brain that she is, probably felt something was amiss when she got pregnant. Nine months is a long time to plan things out, and maybe doing a few concerts to warn others of impending danger subtlety might've worked...but only for so long. She needed something. A safety. And that safety was her family. Lucifer likely could've been useful but his depression was beginning to take hold with each failure and the worsening sinners as years passed. So...plan B...Charlie. She would instill in her daughter everything she knew and give her a "destiny".

"But Lilith's hope remained. And her dream passed down to their precious daughter, the Princess of Hell."

With Charlie, Lilith instilled that the people were important. But never explained in what way. As she continued to prepare her daughter, Lilith would come to understand this reason. Power. Roo thrives on the tainted evil that seeps from the sinners. So just as she finishes schooling Charlie, she sets up another backup plan to still Roo's intake long enough for her daughter to figure out a way of her own...And this is where Adam comes in.

"Adam is dead. Your deal is done and I'm in charge now. Your brat is threatening the very foundation of Heaven. And if you want to stay here, you're going down there, and stopping that bitch. You understand me…Lilith?"

Feeling Roo's corruptive influence getting worse because sinners just keep coming, Lilith contacts Adam. Now Adam is still salty but hears his first wife out as she caters to his ego. But Adam is wiser after millennia and knows she's not being innocent here. He bluntly gets her to just spill the beans to which she does, she needs out of Hell. Adam grabs this opportunity and says he can sneak her into Heaven but it'll cost her. He knows how much her precious people mean to her so, vindictively, he says he'll take her in if he can go into Hell and kill demons. Little does he know he's playing into her trap. She "reluctantly" agrees so long as no Hellborn are harmed, only sinners. Adam is all for it, even makes a cover story to tell Sera later how killing sinners in Hell will keep Heaven safe, and Lilith then goes about doing the hardest thing she's ever done. She tells Lucifer of some details of this new Heavenly Extermination thing and that she'll have to go away for a long time, promising to return but unsure when. Heartbroken, Lucifer watches as his love leaves him, their daughter, and their kingdom.

"Hey, mom. I know I keep calling and you must be busy... Really busy... But, um, the interview didn't go well, and... I don't know if I'm ever going to make a difference. I don't know what I'm doing. I could really use some advice, mom. I... I think dad was right about me... Ahah, oof. Eh, anyway... I'll stop talking before this gets long. Love you, bye..."

"Don't worry, Mom. I'll make you proud."

Vaggie: Did you hear from your mom?

*Charlie shakes her head in dismay.*

Vaggie: Oof… how long has it been now?

Charlie: Not that long, only…seven….years, off doing something important, I'm sure! But, this kingdom was something she really cared about. Something I care about.

This is what I think it's all been leading to. Lilith having made Charlie into someone for the people and wanting to save souls in a, as funny as it is, maintaining the very balance that got fucked up way back in the garden sort of redeeming way. Restoring order by allowing the good to go where it should've gone in the first place and keeping Roo weak. Maybe Lilith can even get her own redemption, being partially responsible for allowing Roo into our world in the first place. The only added weight I have left to give to my silly little "infected Lilith" idea is how she looks at season one's ending.

She looks pissed and upset, which we can say for a few reasons like how Lute just straight-up calls Charlie a bitch to her face. Like, dude, dick move. But, with Adam dead and seemingly no progress from Charlie (that she knows of), Lute is forcing her to go back to Hell where Roo's influence can grip her once more. I'm not entirely sure just what that could mean but for the sake of the Alastor/Lilith theory fans, let's say when Roo is strong she can puppet Lilith into infecting others via demonic deals. She might have done this countless times with mixed results, only to have full success in Alastor. But Mr deer is a bit too successful a test subject and thus gets his powers leashed. Now we have Alastor trying to force his way out of this mixed-up double-power deal by roping in Charlie, the one kink in this chain that could cause everything to break if forced too much.

It would explain his latching onto Charlie and seeking a deal since the very first time they met. She's a means to an end. The key to unlocking his proverbial collar. It even explains his out-of-nowhere instant disdain for Lucifer. Of course he'd be hostel to the husband of the bitch that metaphorically screwed him and poses a threat to his current plan of using his daughter for his own means.

Well, this was a long as fuck rambling. I hope even a shred of this made sense. Now to sit back and wait for season two to come along and either be like "I got something right" or "Wow I was dead wrong on so many levels". I wonder how long that will take?

"In an interview posted on February 2, 2024, Vivziepop thought that the production of season two might take about one-and-a-half to two years, roughly the same production time season one had."

Oh...um...Looks like we have some time. So, we can expect the new episodes to land in late 2025 at the earliest. *sets up chair* I can wait.

[thieves-in-the-palace]

They're really pulling some niche figures for these new Personas, huh?

Prosymna is one of three naiad daughters of the Greek river god Asterion. Along with her sisters (Acraea and Euboea), she served as a wet-nurse for Hera. The name Prosymna means "celebrate in song," which explains her harp-like design.

(Prosymna is also a genus of snake!)

Erytheia is one of the three (or four, or seven) Hesperides, nymphs who presided over evening and sunsets. The name Erytheia means "the red one." There doesn't seem to be much mythos surrounding Erytheia specifically, but her name was assigned to a small island northwest of Gilbraltar. (Nowadays it's part of Spain! The city of Cadíz can be found there.)

Preceded by Leucothea, Erytheia is one of the two (possibly 3?) P5X Persona to be rendered as a masculine entity despite being based off a distinctly feminine mythological figure. Not sure why they're doing that, but hey, the designs are great!

Syke is a bit of an oddball. While it would be easy to presume it's meant to represent Psyche, the Greek goddess of the soul…Psyche has already appeared as Metis' Persona back in P3 FES, so it's possible this one is a different entity. However, something worth noting: like the other Greek myth Persona in this post, Psyche came in a set of three, having been the youngest of three sisters.

Of what I've been able to dig up, Syke (or Syca) was also the name of a town in ancient Cilicia, a region in southern Anatolia. Another name for Syke was Setos, possibly based off the primordial sea goddess Ceto. Ceto is considered one of the oldest-known deities in Greek myth, and was mother to a myriad of monsters, such as the Graiae and Gorgon sisters.

Meng Po is the Chinese goddess of forgetfulness, tasked with ensuring that souls headed for reincarnation are reborn with no memories. To accomplish this, she serves a memory-wiping soup to souls crossing the Naihe Bridge out of Diyu, a subterranean maze that serves as an equivalent to hell in Chinese mythology.

This lore explains both the bowl and lantern in this Persona's design. The bowl represents the soup, obviously enough, while the lantern can be interpreted as symbolic of "guiding the dead."

Cleodora was one of the three Thriae, prophetic nymphs who lived in the Corycian Cave of Mt. Parnassus. Though the Thriae are often considered to be the "bee-maidens" (women bearing human heads/torsos and bee wings/lower bodies) described in the Homeric Hymn to Hermes, it's possible they're different trios; the Thriae predicted the future through throwing stones (pessomancy/mantic pebbles), while the bee-maidens predicted the future through casting lots (cleromancy).

The only info I can find on Cleodora as separate from the Thriae states that she was the mother of Parnassos, who invented a way to predict the future based on birds (ornithomancy).

[em-writes-stuff-sometimes]

gevivys (beauty) │ Chapter 8: Triumph

terms of endearment ‘verse: see my Masterlist for the correct series order!

Chapter 1 │Chapter 2 │Chapter 3 │Chapter 4 │Chapter 5 │Chapter 6 │Chapter 7 │Chapter 8 │Chapter 9 │Chapter 10 (COMPLETE!)

Synopsis: Daemon returns to King's Landing after ten years in exile, intent on rekindling his affair with Rhaenyra. He wasn't expecting you - the revelation changes everything.

Hello, everyone! Can’t stop, won’t stop! This is a minor edit of the OG chapter, so nothing too new here beyond the odd word change or punctuation adjustment. I’m reasonably confident I’m almost done with the instalment, and after that, it’ll be really minor grammar/style edits and High Valyrian switchouts for the remainder of my series. THEN, I can get into writing new instalments! YAY! Thank you, as always, to my #1 gal, my slap daddy @ewanmitchellcrumbs​​ for giving this the stamp of approval.

TRIGGERS: incest, purity culture, violence, age gap.

Daemon spends the next few days in hiding, taking his meals in his chambers and refusing to venture outside the safe haven of its four walls.

Considering just how many people he had managed to piss off in the space of a single evening, it is probably for the best. He has to admit that, by the third day, the room feels as though it’s closing in on him. That being said, he has little wish to force his company on you after how frightened you had looked, or risk being murdered on sight if either his brother or oldest niece catch a glimpse of him anywhere near you. The fact that he had so thoroughly broken off relations with his old crowd leaves him with little alternative than to remain concealed, out of sight and mind.

Yes, it is best to wait, to let the outcome play itself out. Until Viserys deigns to speak to him again—until he gathers the will to approach you—here he shall remain.

He spends his time reading the old histories, fetched readily by his attending servants. Immersing himself in tales of the Conqueror, the Fall of Ghis, the Doom, he ponders upon his ancestry.

It is a sobering thought, he concludes, to consider how far House Targaryen had risen since the Old Days, from minor dragonlords to rulers of an entire continent.

And yet, for all the power they had amassed, they are all but alone in carrying the memory of their true home. The Freehold is now nothing more than smoking ruins and ashen horizons and fairy stories mothers tell to frighten their children.

It is a day similar to any other when he receives a knock upon the door. Given that the servants tap gently, the domineering pounding upon the wooden surface can only mean that his self-imposed isolation has come to an end. Sighing, he abandons the book and removes himself from the desk, striding over to the entry to reveal his guest.

Daemon had been expecting a member of the Kingsguard. He finds Rhaenyra.

“May I come in?” she asks, hands clasped before her and face impassive. He nods, obligingly standing aside. His niece stops in the middle of the room and turns to face him. It is fascinating that the sight of her no longer arouses the same ardour and shame and torment it had once done, just the throb of an old hurt on a rainy day. “You’ve been avoiding us.”

He chuckles, closing the door. “I had thought that was rather obvious. I didn’t think anyone would particularly enjoy my presence, seeing as I traumatised my poor sweet niece by attacking her suitor in the hallway.”

He focuses his gaze upon the window past her head, unable to look her in the eye.

She huffs a breath. “He deserved it.” She pauses; hesitates. “She’s… confused. And upset.”

His chest tightens at the information.

“I know,” he says quietly. For all his bluster, he had no wish to distress you or see you distressed, and now it seems he is the very cause of it. “I hadn’t intended… well, I suppose it doesn’t matter now.”

“Why?” Rhaenyra blurts, seemingly having paid little attention to his words.

Her utterance is too sudden, too abrupt after the conclusion of his sentence to be motivated by anything other than the wounds of the past. He focuses upon her face properly, frowning lightly when he absorbs the expression of hurt confusion upon it. She steps forward, her composure breaking somewhat in the slump of her shoulders and the relaxing of her spine. 

It all comes spilling out in a rush—every question, every thought, every hurt she must have carried in her soul since he left, waiting for the perfect moment to unleash itself upon his ears.

“Why her? Why me? Why did you leave me there, in that whorehouse, with no means of protection and no way to get home? Why did you bother coming to my wedding, to tell me not to marry Laenor only to turn around and disappear when I begged you to take me away? Why have you returned now, after ten years, only to immediately fixate upon my little sister, one of the few pure things in my life, and seek to mar her the way you did me—” 

“You were a child.”

She barks out a laugh, an ugly, twisted thing, and throws up her hands. “So is she! She’s a girl, Daemon, a girl who knows even less about the capriciousness of men than I did at her age! Is it any wonder I am so protective over her?”

“You demean her.” He leans back against the wall as he surveys her critically. “She’s more intelligent than anyone gives her credit for.”

“Oh, please! You know very well that book learning and worldly knowledge aren’t the same thing!” She stops; sighs. Her hand comes up to clasp the bridge of her nose in consternation. “I didn’t come here to yell at you again.”

“That’s news to me,” is his sardonic counter.

He feels the old guilt and self-loathing rise up again. She isn’t wrong. He has committed grievous acts against his own blood, acts he has never apologised for. And you are innocent, pure in a way that he is almost averse to contaminating, but his very nature will not allow him to resist the temptation of leading you down the path of passion. 

“I was cruel to you,” he says. “I… You never deserved what I did to you that night. But I cannot wish that it never happened, because it’s led us to who we are today. And isn’t that something?”

He comes forward to clasp her face in his hands and stares down at the face of his niece, the Realm’s Delight, his regret and love and hate all tangled into one incomprehensible entity. He presses a kiss to the top of her head, the way he used to when she was a child, and she wilts into his arms the way she did when her mother passed. They stand there, embracing finally as niece and uncle. He almost thinks he can feel some fractured part of him knit back together.

“Do you love her, Uncle?” she whispers, the cadence childish in the way that it was when everything was simple, uncomplicated, free from darkness or loss or despair. The sound is muffled in his chest, but he hears it all the same.

He hesitates, thinking upon you—your bright grin, your pale hair, your free laughter and the sound of your voice, the curve of your body and the way you look up at him, void of disgust or abhorrence. It makes both his cock and his chest ache.

“It’s more complicated than that.” His hand pats against her back comfortingly as he had done when he was himself young, her merely a wailing babe refusing to lay down to sleep. “I will not lie and claim feelings that aren’t there, but… when she looks at me, I feel as though she sees the best parts of who I am. It’s easy to pretend there’s still something good... left.”

“You’re still good, Daemon, no matter what you’ve done,” Rhaenyra says, jabbing him quickly between the ribs in his back. Her nails fucking sting.

He tugs her hair playfully in remonstration, breathing a laugh. “Cheeky. I’ve spent so much of my life being the cause of anger, hate, destruction… I want to be someone’s happiness. I want to be her happiness.” 

Rhaenyra pulls away from him, wiping at her eyes. He is saddened and yet cognisant of the tear that had escaped unbidden, the years of uncertainty and suffering finally earning their release. When she smiles at him, it is a mixture of despondency and contentment—two such warring emotions—that lifts the corners of her mouth.

“I won’t lie and say it isn’t painful to hear you talk about her like she’s… I don’t know. Something worth fighting for, perhaps. But… I’m happy for you.”

She is quiet, earnest as she looks at him. Daemon is warmed by it. He hadn’t been asking for her approval, nor had he been expecting it, but to hear something almost approaching a blessing is a relief. One down…

“But you need to talk to her. She has no idea what’s going on. And if you mean to follow through with it—marry her and all—you can’t just arrange it through Father. It’s her life, and she has the right to refuse you. She pats him lightly on the shoulder as she passes him, walking back the way she had entered.

She turns to face him, smirk adorning her visage, a glint of steel in her eyes. “And know this. You will treat her well, or there shall be no men, dragons or gods that will save you from my wrath.”

Seven fucking hells.

“Understood.” He nods solemnly. His eldest niece really is a force to be reckoned with. She’ll make a fine ruler one day.

“And Daemon?” Rhaenyra beams suddenly, looking the very picture of unblemished youth. “Thank you.” It sweeps out of her, a burst of closure washing away the sins of the past.

She lets herself out.

It is a peculiar echo of their first meeting when he finally ventures out of his chambers in search of you, avoiding all curious stares and titillating whispers as he wanders through the Keep. He is once more relegated to searching the usual haunts, being both unable and unwilling to seek out Ser Harrold after the events of their previous encounter. Stopping by the library and the Hightower spawns’ rooms, there is little to be found.

Eventually, he happens upon the familiar tense stance of Cole, again guarding the entrance to the garden. Ah. There she is.

This time, he strides straight past the knight, not even bothering to posture to him today. He’s unimportant, a waste of his time—he’ll be damned if he expends his energy matching wits with a lowly knight from the Stormlands. This time, you are alone, sitting under the shade of the pavilion. Your legs swing under the bench as you stare pensively out at the trees, the hedges, the flowers.

Again, he calls your name. Again, your head snaps up to face him.

You are markedly more cautious as he makes his way forward, shifting uncomfortably as he takes a seat beside you. Daemon makes sure to leave acceptable space for fear of you running off. He waits for you to initiate the discussion, to take power for yourself where he had stolen it some days prior.

You sit in measured silence for a beat. Your breath hitches as you make abortive attempts to engage with him.

“Lord Tyrell is most aggrieved,” you say finally, quietly, uncertainly.

His nose flares softly. “He dishonoured you,” Daemon takes care not to allow annoyance to seep into his tone. I don’t give a fuck about the Tyrells. “He deserved it.”

“He reacted to the situation. One you placed him in, Uncle.”

Your response is quick, instantaneous, the effect lost by the picture you make as you stare resolutely at your wringing hands. It is your usual indication of anxiety, twisting and winding your fingers together to self-soothe, a babe clutching upon their favourite blanket.  You bite your lip hard, turning away from him and blinking rapidly.

He murmurs your name.

“I—I thought you… cared about me,” you say, whisper-quiet and mournful. “But you just wanted what all the others wanted.”

“No.” He pulls your hands from your lap, smothering the uneasy motions to cradle your small palms in his own. They are cold again, so he grips them tighter, hoping to transfer the warmth of his skin to yours. “Never say that. Of course I care, sweetest girl—”

He pulls his right hand away to lift your chin from where it is tucked against your collarbone, letting the pangs of contrition wash over him at the sight of your quivering lip. “How could you doubt it?”

You sniffle, try to tug your hands from his own. “You spent time with me—listened to me—gave me things,” you murmur, “and I thought you were interested in me, but you are only looking for the Valyrian wife you have longed for.”

Daemon resists you, forces you to look upon him. It is vexing to know that court gossip had reached your ears already. He hopes that is all you have heard.

“What do you know of my longing, hm?” is what he chooses to say, admonishing your line of thought as gently as he can.

Your reaction is telling. Fuck. She’s learned about the—Fuck.

You flush dark at his words, determinedly breaking eye contact. “They say… they say there was a— who looked like—when you went to Flea Bottom one eve…”

Damn it all. Raising his brow, he tries not to let his uneasiness reveal itself. “And do you believe everything the rabble blather on about among themselves? If there is something you must know, you need only ask.”

Not this, he urges silently. Don’t ask me this.

After a moment’s pause, you nod, though the sceptical manner in which you purse your lips suggests you do not accept his misdirection.

He sighs.

“Look”—he taps you lightly on the nose to distract you, steering the conversation quite decisively from his unsavoury exploits—“you are of fine stock and high birth, it’s true. You possess the qualities I want in a bride. But that is not all you are.” Your eyes cross as they follow the path of his finger and a smile threatens to lift the corner of your lip, easing the sting his words may bring. “You are intelligent, and lovely, and quite possibly the fairest maiden in the Realm.”

You snort lightly, and he teasingly pulls at your hands enclosed in his. Half-charmed and half-uncertain, your expression wavers as you stare up at him. He knows he has almost swayed you. Pressing further, he beseeches you with veiled intensity.

“Marry me,” he says. You blink at him, wide-eyed at the shift. “Stay with me, in the capital, with your family and your tutor and your dragon. Bind yourself to me; bear my children. Be my wife… Say yes to me.”

Your breath hitches at his passionate supplication, swallowing as his hand reaches up once more to lay itself upon your cheek. He bends forward, hardly believing you are allowing him so close to you. He is close enough that he can hear your quick breaths, watch the swell of your breasts above the cut of your gown rise and fall with each exhalation, smell the fragrant rose oil upon your skin. It is intoxicating.

You jerk away lightly, abortively. You are not ready.

“Will you make reparations? To Lord Tyrell?” you whisper, a shy peek of pink tongue venturing out to wet your bottom lip.

Daemon is momentarily stunned at the sight, a wild impulse to push forward and claim that lip with his teeth filling him so quickly and violently that he has to bite the inside of his cheek to will it away. He instead huffs a soft breath at your impertinence, flaring up in that unassuming way of yours even now, doe-eyed and sweet-faced and almost his.

“I’ll give him all the gold in my coffers, sweetling.” He nuzzles gently against the side of your face and revels in the victory that is about to be his. It isn’t too difficult a loss. He’ll remake his fortune quickly enough from the Crown’s annual sum. “You need only say the word.” 

“I dislike violence, kepus.” You shiver as his nose nudges softly against yours and withdraw slightly from him. You flick your eyes up to his. “I will not allow unneeded savagery from my husband.”

You are soft-spoken, but the resolve is clear. It is easy to acquiesce to your appeal.

“Then you’ll never have to bear witness to it, unless necessary,” he says, and he cannot help but to add that addendum to his vow. You notice, for your eyes narrow slightly but do not say anything further. He will not curb his nature entirely for you. “Will you trust that I know when it’s needed, little girl?”

You delay, twisting your mouth. Finally, you nod, ever the obedient girl to your elders.

“Good.” He is growing impatient at your stalling, eager to hear the words that have all but spilled forth. “Now—give me your answer. I won’t wait any longer.”

Your reply is an unexpected revelation. “I have… already spoken to Papa.”

How interesting. At least he’s been speaking to someone, Daemon thinks. He’d yet to receive anything but indifference and stony silence from his brother. He pulls back, brow quirked, waiting for you to elaborate.

You shift guiltily in his hold, glancing away momentarily. “Between Jason Lannister, Lord Denys, and Aegon—you are the better option.”

There’s that mischief again. He is overwhelmingly enamoured by it. 

There’s a flash of disappointment that you have not professed your desire for him beyond convenience, that you haven’t admitted to being as tortured as he had been over these past weeks, but that is no matter. He has time. He has all the time in the world to make you his, to make himself the axis upon which your world spins. It has been so long since he has felt so completely gratified in his triumph.

I won’t leave you ever again, he swears, releasing his declaration to the winds of fate. You’ll never be alone.

He presses a fervent kiss to your forehead, resting his own upon yours. Thank you, sweet girl. It never leaves his lips, so he tries to convey it through the touch of his skin and the weight of his palm against your neck, solid and real and constant.

The movement feels almost paternal, though the fervour driving it is anything but. It is a twisted, dark amalgamation of father, protector and lover-to-be, a swirl of all the duties he has and will undertake in your life. He supposes the disinclination to separate these roles is what drives such hatred of Valyrian tradition among the folk of Westeros. But he doesn’t care. He cannot care.

He has won.

He waits silently in the Small Council chamber, eyes wandering around the room as he resolutely ignores the irritable eyes upon him. The withered form of King Viserys sits hunched at the head of his table, staring down the row of seats to his brother with jaw set and assessing countenance.

The effect is rather diminished by the frailty of his form. With limp strands that are more greyish than white, scarred and ruined face, missing limbs and hunched spine, the man is a shadow of the once hale and hearty brother he knew. It makes him uncomfortable to be in his presence, a remorse and ache he feels deep in his bones that he cannot lay bare. For all the many censures he has levied against his brother over the years, it is now when faced with his mortality that he loathes the divide that has grown between them, as insurmountable as steel through rock.

“You’ll reside wherever she desires. Here, or Dragonstone, or wherever else she may choose,” the King says, eyes ever watchful.

Nigh on a sennight and not even a greeting. He’d met Northerners less chilly than the King in this moment.

“Yes, Your Grace.” Daemon tries to tamp down the self-satisfaction he must surely be exuding.

The King notices. “You’ll keep her safe and make her happy.” His voice is even terser than before.

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“You’ll wed in the Sept, under the faith of the Seven.” He cuts Daemon off before he has a chance to speak. “I’ll brook no discontent from the high lords as to the legality of this… union.” The manner in which he utters this tells Daemon all he needs to know as to his brother’s attitude.

How did she manage to convince him? he wonders. You’d told him nothing of the matter, and none other had been present for whatever argument you had utilised to bend the King to your will. Clever girl.

Viserys is still talking. “They’ll not tolerate a foreign ceremony on top of your relation.”

The point is fair. Though he is sure the King had gone to his own deal of trouble to fulfil your choice, he cannot help that it stings.

“I had hoped to wed my bride in the old ways,” Daemon says.

What is the point of tying a bit of ribbon around a pair of hands and chanting some words over it, the sickly scent of burnt sage wafting in the nose and the shift and rumble of bored guests in the crowd? No—he would much rather join to you as the Conqueror had claimed his wives, an elemental union of blood and spirit that no mortal nor gods could tear asunder.

Viserys grunts. “You’ll wed under the Seven. I care little should you choose to follow it with another rite.” The man stands firm upon his declaration, his tone expressing the antipathy he will not put into words.

Daemon mutters under his breath. It isn’t worth the trouble to protest further. Perhaps his brother is correct—it would be simpler to give the nobles a show of goodwill, get the deed over and done with.

He bends to the wishes of his King. “Fine, Your Grace.”

“Good.” Viserys leans back, chair creaking as he presses against the side of the table and stretches out his remaining limb, the joint cracking noisily. “Then I wash my hands of it.”

Daemon can hear what he does not say. ‘Of you.’ That is what he’d meant. It’ll be some time before the man would forgive him this latest trespass—another decade, maybe. For all his ire over Rhaenyra, this may actually be worse, for at least he’d had an excuse to deny his brother and daughter their desire then. Now, nothing stands in the Rogue Prince’s way.

The King smacks his lips in disquiet, the sound loud in the echoing hush of the room. “I only pray she has made the right choice in you.”

“Thank you, brother.”

There is no value in attempting to reassure Viserys of his intentions, as noble as they are ever like to be. Daemon will simply have to prove his merit through action.

“Let us be done with it, then,” his brother mutters, scraping his chair back as he stands and hobbles out of the room. Daemon inclines his head in deference as he passes, following Viserys through the walkway into the Great Hall.

The hall is packed with the lords and ladies of the Realm, finely accoutred in their silks and their jewels, milling about in preparation for the King’s royal announcement. As he enters the chamber, he can spy the men of station his brother has invited to the day’s proceedings, the high lords of the land they rule: Jason Lannister, appearing well and truly livid at having yet another of his prospective Targaryen brides yanked out from under the yoke of his attentions; Jeyne Arryn, the Maiden of the Vale; the ageing Grover Tully, Lord Paramount of the Trident; Boremund Baratheon and his son, Borros; the beaten visage of Lord Denys, and Daemon has to restrain a smirk as the man glares, a prancing peacock with his feathers ruffled; even Cregan Stark, the twelve-year-old Wolf of the North, has made an appearance in his sickly father’s stead.

He spies you to the left of the throne, past Rhaenyra and her sons, past Laenor cradling the smallest boy in his arms. You stand beside the Hightower bitch and her children. It is a bizarre arrangement—from the look on the Queen’s haughty face as she gazes out at the court, nose turned up at the whispers, it had been her idea. Her hand is on your shoulder, though you pay it no mind. Instead, you have been easily diverted by the inane half-speak of the girl beside you, Viserys’ eldritch offspring with her jumbling rambles and muttered riddles.

She is too easily led, he thinks distastefully. I’ll have to remedy that.

Daemon surveys the assemblage of aristocracy below, noting how lacklustre their attempt to veil their curious goggling and riveted gossip. You have not seen beneath the guise of friendliness offered to you by your lady stepmother. A disappointingly half-witted move; if Her Grace had thought to persuade him to her side by positioning herself as his little niece’s companion, she would be sorely frustrated. Their colouring may be Valyrian, but the spawn of Alicent Hightower were no more Targaryen than the flaxen-haired maid who empties his chamberpot in the mornings. He’d be damned if the fruit of her womb replaced Rhaenyra’s rightful claim.

Viserys climbs the steps to the throne with some effort, having to swing his body to land the last two steps properly. It is no doubt a humiliating spectacle to endure, and he feels a pang of sympathy in his chest. Daemon stops to stand beside Laenor, his cousin and goodnephew by marriage.

Goodbrother also, soon. What a perplexing notion.

Finally, the King turns to face his audience, sitting gingerly upon the seat. He has likely cut his backside again. When he takes his place, the hall quietens, stooping to bend or curtsey in performance of their obeisance.

“I welcome the Lords of the Realm to King’s Landing.” For all the deterioration of his body, there is no doubt that his voice is as strong as ever, the tenor booming through the echoing space. “I have an announcement to make—that of the birth of my grandson, your Prince, Joffrey of House Velaryon, delivered of my heir the Princess Rhaenyra four moons past.”

Daemon glances at Laenor and Rhaenyra, his lips upturning despite himself. Their joy is infectious. His eldest niece affects an aspect of polite gratification, and Laenor beams as the assembly applauds in recognition of the boy’s birth. There are, however, several odd glimpses made toward the proud form of Ser Harwin Strong, stationed ever faithfully at the foot of the steps nearest Rhaenyra. The rumours will never outrun her.

Viserys raises his hand to settle the room once more. “I must also make proclamation of my second-born daughter’s impending nuptials.”

The words carry even louder, a response to the surprised hum that lifts the room. After all, you had only been courting for a small window of time, and it was not yet rumoured that you had a favourite.

“It is my decree that she is to be given in marriage to my brother, Prince Daemon of House Targaryen, son of Baelon and Alyssa of the same House, former King of the Stepstones and the Narrow Sea, to continue the strength of our noble heritage and prosper the blood of Old Valyria.”

The shocked gasps and scandalised chatter fill the hall with a wash of racket as he strides down the steps, waiting impatiently for you to descend and meet him at the foot of the throne. It is a practised gesture, but one you must perform, nonetheless. You lift your skirts, scaled black like the heraldry of your shared House, and trail down the stairs at a more sedate pace.

You stop before him and curtsey lightly.

“I welcome the news of this match, my Prince,” you say, your voice ringing out clear despite the evident apprehension swimming in the violet of your eyes.

The din has receded to a low mumble, the court unsure what to make of this unexpected declaration. Daemon bows slowly before you, capturing your hand in his and pressing his lips to your flesh in a motion of aristocratic gentility. He is sure the way he stares upon you is anything but gentlemanly. A flush begins to bloom once again, adorning the pale of your skin.

“I am honoured to receive your hand, Princess.” Though he can hear his own lower tones reverberate in his ears, it is strangely intimate. For a moment, he forgets there are others in the room.

A predictable flutter circulates among the ladies of the court, sighs and murmurs and breathy chatter too far off to discern. He grins as he steps forward to tuck your arm in his own, leading you away from the Queen and her ilk. The court claps, and whether it be in shock or in genuine gladness, he cares not. All he sees is you, brimming with unease and yet clutching to him tightly, his darling girl once more seeking refuge with her fiercest protector.

There, on the steps to the Iron Throne in the Great Hall of the Red Keep, your arm entwined in his, he smiles.

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[findingnemosworld]

𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐮𝐩 - 𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐤 𝐬𝐳𝐨𝐛𝐨𝐬𝐳𝐥𝐚𝐢 𝐟𝐭. 𝐱𝐚𝐛𝐢 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐨

・𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲: 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐬

( 𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐗𝐚𝐛𝐢 𝐢𝐬 𝐋𝐅𝐂 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐨’𝐬 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐮𝐩 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐔𝐊 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐛𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐥𝐲 𝐗𝐚𝐛𝐢 𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫.𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐃𝐨𝐦 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐛𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐥𝐲 𝐗𝐚𝐛𝐢’𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫/𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐤 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐗𝐚𝐛𝐢 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲’𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠. )

𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 ( 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐤, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐭'𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐲 )

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: 𝐢 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐝𝐨𝐨𝐳𝐲 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐩𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐟𝐮𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞, 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐮𝐲𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐬 𝐢 𝐝𝐨

( I think any dad will love this man, I mean come on )

( if you ask me though, xabi owns my heart in the end )

Y/N wasn't a stranger to the city of Liverpool as since she was a child, she'd attended all of her father's matches in Anfield as well as visit him whenever time had allowed seeing as he and her mother had been separated long before she was born with Xabi moving on to marry Nagore who'd treated Y/N the same way she treats her three other children, Jon, Anne and Emma. And since traveling the world as a renowned artist, Y/N decided to surprise her father who'd taken on the new role of becoming Liverpool's manager.

What she didn't expect however, was to have her heart stolen in the process.

She never really considered the prospect of dating anyone until she met him, her father's newest player, Dominik Szoboszlai.

It had been nearly a year since she arrived back to Liverpool, Y/N divided her time between spending it with her mother and then with her father and his family, and today she'd made the decision to accompany him to training under the guise of wanting to spend more time with her father, which part of the reason why she was currently seated near the railing while the players were deep into their drills, one in particular would steal glances her way, sending secret smiles that she reciprocated as well.

During the lunch break, Dominik had caught sight of her walking past the canteen which prompted him to excuse himself then walk out much to the confusion of Trent and Alexis who exchanged a look as they saw him leave in a hurry.

Y/N was on her way to see her father when out of no where, she was tugged into one of the storage rooms, before she can even make sense of things, the small light is switched on and she is met with Dominik's charming smile. " I missed you " he grunts before nuzzling his face in her neck to pepper kisses against her skin before latching on her pulse point. " Your father isn't making it easy on me "

" Aitatxo is a perfectionist, you are after all his successor " Y/N reminds him through soft whimpers. " He wants you to be the best player on the pitch "

He chuckles against her neck before looking up to her face, " Do you think he'll like me if he finds out I made his daughter cum on my tongue twice yesterday? "

The laugh that erupted from her mouth quickly transforms into a moan, " He's going to kill you, but we have to tell him eventually "

Xabi, as soft spoken, kind and polite as he is, he's also very protective and it stems to her and her half siblings, she recalls how irked he was when Anne had started dating but Nagore was able to calm him and talk him into accepting that his girl is all grown up, she can only imagine how he'd feel when he realizes his oldest daughter is dating one of his players.

" Do you think we should tell him soon? " Dominik wonders in between pressing kisses to her jaw.

A soft sigh escapes her lips, her arms wrapping around his neck. " I'm going to have to talk to Nagore so she can help me, because if I tell him first, chances are ... you may not get a debut soon " she said before a strangled moan escapes her lips, " Fuck, you can't leave a mark cause they'll see it "

Dominik groans, " I can't help it, I told you, I missed you "

" We'll see each later tonight, like I said. I'm going to chat with Nagore first before telling him " She reminds him.

" Hopefully he can accept, cause I'm not planning on losing you " Dominik sighs then pecks her lips.

" You won't " She kisses him with a smile.

___

Later that evening, Y/N had stopped by Xabi's home to have dinner with the family, while Nagore was occupied with making dinner - Y/N decided that this was the perfect chance to tell her, " Hey Nagore " she said with a soft voice.

" Yes " Nagore responds with a smile, " What's the matter sweetheart? "

" I may ... or may not have found a boyfriend " Y/N blurts out.

Nagore's eyes widened before a wide smile adorns her lips, " Really? that's amazing, who's the lucky guy "

Y/N chews on her bottom lip, before glancing at the doorway then back at Nagore who looks at her with a confused expression, she inhales then exhales, " It's one of the Liverpool players " she blurts out.

Nagore's expression shifts into that of surprise, " Oh? " she echoed before adding, " Does he know? " she refers to Xabi.

Y/N shakes her head with a sheepish smile, " It's why I came to you first, If I tell him, he might bench the guy "

" Hm " Nagore húm then nods before asking, " Who is it? "

" You know Dominik? the new player that just came in " Y/N said.

Nagore giggles before jokingly remarking, " Oh my ... so a midfielder like your father "

" Yeah " Y/N chuckles, " He's so sweet to me Nagore, he's like the cutest, most affectionate person I have met but knowing Aitatxo, he might react worst then when he found out Anne was dating "

Nagore squeezes Y/N's hand, " He loves you, and I'm sure he'll come around, tell you what ... why don't you invite Dominik over here? and I'll work it out with your father ok " she smiles.

Y/N sighs then smiles before embracing Nagore, " Thank you, for everything honestly, you didn't have to yet you've always been there "

" You don't need to thank me, you're just my baby the same way your siblings are " Nagore caressed her cheek.

" What are my favorite girls talking about? "

Nagore and Y/N turn around to see Xabi standing at the doorway of the kitchen, Y/N smiles. " Aitatxo, don't say that ... we all know Emma is your favorite girl " she said with a jocular tone.

Xabi chuckles, walking over to his oldest daughter. " You're all my favorite " he pressed a kiss to her head before walking over to Nagore to kiss her. " Dinner smells good "

" It does " Nagore beams before patting his shoulder, " Go on and set the table, Y/N would you do me a favor and call the kids in? "

" Of course " Y/N smiles then exits the kitchen.

Nagore turns to her husband, " Nire bihotza " she said. " Tomorrow we're going to have a special guest over for dinner "

Xabi raises a brow, " A special guest? who? "

Nagore smiles, " someone Y/N just told me about, it's best if I keep it hidden for now, because according to her, it's a surprise "

" That doesn't sound comforting " Xabi mutters.

" Relax, I just wanted to tell you because Y/N said it's important that we meet this person " Nagore said, " Promise me you'll keep an open mind, and not freak out "

" When have I ever freaked out? " Xabi asks incredulously.

Nagore tilts her head to give him a deadpan look, to which Xabi rolled his eyes. " Ok maybe I freaked out when Anne introduced her boyfriend but whoever this person is, I'll try to be calm "

" Good " Nagore smiles, pecking his cheek. " That's your oldest girl, so I trust that you'll keep an open mind "

" I will try " Xabi nods.

_

Later on that very night, Dominik was tidying up his home when the doorbell rang; he strides up to the front door to open it, beaming when he saw Y/N standing there with an overnight bag, " There she is, my sweet baba " he tugs her inside by her waist then shuts the door with his hand before slamming her back against it to slam his lips onto hers, deepening the kiss when she let out a soft moan, " I hope dinner went well " he murmurs against her lips.

" It did, Nagore said we're invited tomorrow night for dinner " She whispers, wrapping her arms around his neck then her legs around his torso when he hoisted her up, " So you better get ready "

" I will be " He chuckles before smirking, " In the meantime, I'm ready for something else " he whispers.

" Oh yeah " She giggles then bites her lip, " Why don't you take me to the bedroom and show me? "

" I thought you'd never ask " Dominik nearly sprinted to his bedroom, keeping a tight hold on her in his embrace.

They struggle at first with undressing one another as his lips gravitated towards her exposed neck, alternating between kisses and biting on with his teeth to create markings, " If by any chance " he begins with a soft tone, skillfully helping her to remove her bra and panties, " Your father decides to bench me the entire season, you promise to keep me warm at night baba? "

She was about to respond when his lips moved down to tease her nipples causing a moan to escape her lips, her digits thread through his hair. " I'll talk to him if I have to, but for now, let's stop talking about my father and focus on the task at hand " she lifts up his face so he can look at her, " You fucking me senseless "

" Jesus baba " He groans, rubbing his cock on her thigh. " The mouth you have, such a naughty girl "

" Only for you " She half giggles, half moans when he teased her slick pussy with the tip of his cock. " Fuck Dom " she whines.

" You like that? " He cooed, redirecting his attention to her neck while his free hand toyed with her breasts. " You like it when I'm buried inside of you "

" You know I do " She moans, " Please, ... Fuck, please push it in "

He complies, both of them gasping when he thrusted his cock effortlessly inside of her pussy. " Baba " he moans, " Your pussy was made for me "

" Oh yes ... " She whimpers, her walls clenching around his cock which incited a grunt from him, " Please move Domi, I want to feel you " she sighs, tugging him close by his chain to give him a sloppy kiss that he happily reciprocates.

" I got you baba " He cooed, cradling her face in his hands as he leisurely began to thrust in and out of her pussy. " You take my cock so well baba, you feel me don't you? you can how good it is inside of your slick pussy "

" Yes " She gasps, " Yes ... right there " she moans, " Fuck "

His thrusts grew quicker and sloppy when he felt her walls envelop him further, " Baba, Shit " he moans, his eyelids shut tightly. " You're taking me all the way in, such a good girl "

" Dom " She gasped, the sensation growing far too overwhelming when he peppered her neck with kisses. " Fuck, right there ... "

" Are you going to cum? I can feel it baba " He encouraged her by rubbing his thumb over her clit. " Come on baba, cum for me, come on " he cooed.

The knot in her lower abdomen explodes, her eyes blurring from the pleasure, her muscles spasming as she rides out her orgasm, " Oh Dom " she cries, " it feels so good "

" I know " He cooed, kissing her cheek. " I know, I'm going to cum too and I want to cum inside your mouth, you think can let me do that "

She nods a bit too quickly which elicited a chuckle from him, he pulls out then lies on his back, his head against the pillow to observe her as she effortlessly wraps her petite hand over his slick cock then wraps her lips around the tip, causing him to sink his head back and groan, " Fuck baba, just like that " he strokes her head as she bops her head up and down while her hand stroked what her mouth couldn't reach.

While he loved to bury his head between her legs, there was something so sinfully beautiful about the way she took care of his cock, " Right there princess, right there ... I'm almost close - AH FUCK " he cries, his cock twitching inside of her mouth before he spilled ropes of cum into her mouth, " Fuck, take all of it like the good girl you are, that's right "

A little while later, they were all cleaned up and he tucked her in his embrace. " Baba, are you sure your father will be ok with us? " he asks with a soft voice.

" I don't know, but what I do know is that I want this, and he'll have to accept it eventually " She whispers before pressing a kiss to his chest.

______________________________________________________________

The following evening,

Dominik parks his car in front of Xabi's house, a bundle of nerves settling in his abdomen - he'd always been calm when it came to football and anything related to football yet this was different, he was prepared for the worst case scenario seeing as his coach also happened to be the father of his girlfriend, his thoughts raced a million miles in one minute.

" Domi, you'll be fine. I texted Nagore, she said she's got a back up plan if he goes angry " Y/N assures him.

" I just don't want him to think I'm using you, or him for that matter " Dominik sighs.

" He won't ... besides I'm not a little girl, so he'll accept us, whether he likes it not " She says.

The pair step out of the car, then walk up to the front door, Y/N rings the doorbell and whispers, " Relax " she smiled at him.

Dominik nods, " Ok "

A few minutes later, the door opens and Nagore smiles widely. " Hi sweetheart " she pulls Y/N into an embrace then Dominik before ushering them in. " It's nice to meet you Dominik "

" You two ma'am " Dominik nods.

" Oh no, call me Nagore please " Nagore laughs, " Come on, Xabier is in the living room "

She leads the pair to the living room, " Honey, look who's here "

Xabi stood up with a smile which quickly transformed into a look of confusion when he noticed Dominik, standing there and holding his daughter's hand. " Y/N? " he asks.

" Aita, lasai " Y/N began before smiling, " You already know who Dominik is, but ... what you don't know is that, he and I have been dating for a while now, two and a half months to be exact "

Xabi's eyes widen, " Oh, ... " he turns to Nagore who shoots him a look to warn him, he composes himself. " And when exactly did this happen? "

" When I visited you during the preseason? we got to know each other and ... well " Y/N giggles, " Here we are "

Dominik smiles tentatively, silently hoping that Xabi doesn't rip him a lecture during training. " I really care about her sir "

Xabi nods silently, " Aha "

" Dinner is almost ready, so Y/N ... why don't you help me set the dining table hm? " Nagore smiles, she leans closer to her husband to whisper. " Don't kill him, he really likes her " she pecks his cheek then takes Y/N to the kitchen.

Xabi waited until the two of them were out before he turns to Dominik who seemed obviously on edge, awaiting to be lectured or worse, yelled at. " So? "

" Sir, it wasn't in my intention but she really captured my heart " Dominik admits, " And I know, that I'm still new to the team but I admire you, and the legacy that you have here, as well as the plans you have to bring Liverpool back to the top, so I want you to know that my intentions with Y/N are pure "

Xabi remained silent, to have his daughter dating one of his players wasn't in the cards and he certainly wasn't expecting it - however he knew his daughter was old enough to make her own decisions, it didn't stop him from saying, " You know she's my oldest right? " he asks.

" Yes " Dominik nods.

" And you know that when it comes to her, I will literally do anything to protect her from harm " He said.

" Absolutely " Dominik echoes. " I'm fully aware "

" She's my oldest but she's still my baby, and while this will take time for me to accept, you need to remember that just because you two are together, doesn't mean I'll play favorites with you, you're just like any other player on the team " He states, " However, if you break her heart, I will guarantee that you won't see the pitch for a very long time you understand "

Dominik nods, " I give you my word, she means the world to me and I will hurt myself before hurting her "

Xabi smiles, " Good " he pats Dominik's back. " Come on, let's head to the dining room "

The dinner went off as smoothly as it can be, Xabi had ensured that Dominik felt relaxed which elated Y/N to see her boyfriend and father getting along quickly over the common denominator they have which is football, while she and Nagore exchanged soft smiles, before Nagore leaned over to whisper. " He's just as excited as your father "

" I know, I'm glad nothing went wrong " Y/N said with a relieved sigh.

" He probably threatened him while we set up the table " Nagore giggles.

" I have no doubt, but as long as he knows that me and him dating won't affect his position, I hope that they manage to remain friendly with one another " Y/N said.

" Don't worry, they will " Nagore assures her.

After dinner, Xabi asked Y/N to speak in the balcony while Dominik offered to help clean up the table with Nagore.

" Y/N, I know that things between us were rocky at first when you were a child but I want you to know that I love you, I care about you a lot " He begins.

" I know that you do Aita " Y/N smiles, " Dominik makes me happy, when I first got to know him, I saw a lot of your traits in him which is why I was so drawn to him, he's kind, nurturing and so sweet to me "

Xabi smiles, " I'm glad to hear that, I want you to be happy always "

" I am " Y/N embraces him.

" Now that it's all out in the open, does that mean you'll be visiting the training center for him? " Xabi asks with a playful tone.

" No, I'm going to be a professional and lessen my visits but as long as you promise not to be too hard on him " Y/N said.

" I'm the coach Y/N, it's my job to discipline them " Xabi laughs, " I want you to promise me that if he messes up, you'll tell me ok "

" I promise " Y/N nods before adding with a smile, " I love you Aita "

" I love you too sweetheart " Xabi smiles then chuckles " I can't believe my little girl is all grown up "

" I'll always be your little girl Aita " Y/N smiles. " Even if I'm with someone else "

" He better treat you right " Xabi states.

" I believe in him " Y/N said before the pair enter back into the house.

[song-witch]

Want Doesn't Equal Need

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff

Word Count: 4,854

Warnings: Unspecified age gap (Nat is older), heavy makeout session.

Summary: Nat and Wanda have been going on strong for over a month, but will a little secret ruin what they have?

Part One Part Three

A/N: i wrote this all within the last 30 hours :)

Wanda groaned at the sound of her alarm, eyes slitting open as she blearily tried to turn it off before it woke the twins. The chances of it waking them was slim: the phone was maybe half a foot away from her and on the third lowest volume. If motherhood had taught her one thing, it was that you could never be too quiet.

She lifted her head just enough to see her babies, making sure they were still asleep and breathing before rolling onto her back. They had been changed fed just over half an hour ago, so they wouldn’t need to be fed for a while, but it never hurt to check. If one look was enough to soothe at least a little of her anxiety, so be it.

The sound of sharp cries pulled her out of sleep, reaching for her phone. She did a double take as she realized it wasn’t her alarm and instead was the twins, nearly shooting out of bed to attend to them.

“Good morning.” Wanda mumbled through a yawn, flashing a tired smile at the oldest of the twins as she leaned over to pick him up. It hadn’t taken long to learn which cry was who’s and what it meant, easily being able to tell the twins apart at three months old. She gave the same greeting to the younger as she picked him up, easily falling into their morning routine.

While it was out of the norm for either of them to be crying before she was awake, it wasn't impossible and she merely shrugged it off. She had read somewhere babies had an internal clock, though it wouldn’t develop fully for a few more months. Whatever it may be, she was glad the three of them had fallen into a schedule, well, whatever you could consider a schedule for newborns.

“Just give me a second here, Tommy.” The brunette spoke tiredly, sitting against her mountain of pillows with her feet planted on the mattress, knees in the air. Billy was laid on her thighs as he was the calmer of the two at the moment, needing her free hand to take her shirt and bra off. While feeding them simultaneously had proven to be a hassle multiple times, it had also proven to be the most effective method of handling twins as a single mother.

"I know you’re hungry, bud.” Wanda rocked him as best as she could, transferring him to her left arm. Neither of the boys needed help latching, hadn’t for upwards of two months, but it was still easier to hold whoever needed to start nursing first in her non-dominant arm and then hold the second with her dominant arm.

“See? You’re okay, bubs.” The student murmured softly, splitting her attention between the two as she picked up Billy, situating him on her right side with a soft sigh. She leaned her head back, letting her eyes flutter shut while the twins ate. She didn’t know why she was so tired all of a sudden. While she hadn’t gotten a full night of sleep in months, the twins had been sleeping exceptionally well the last few nights, meaning she too had been actually sleeping.

Obviously she knew she would be playing catch up with her sleep; the twins had just turned three months just over a week ago, though she knew she was far from any of them sleeping through the night anytime soon. Still, she had easily slept over six hours last night, the most she had gotten on a school night since starting fall semester. Whatever it may be, she was tempted to fall back asleep and wait for her second alarm, even though it wouldn’t be more than five minutes at the most.

“Wanda. Are you up?” The pounding on her bedroom door had her wincing, begrudgingly opening her eyes. She had all of ten seconds to pull her comforter over herself, well as much as she could, before her door was shoved open, Pietro standing in her doorway. He was dressed in shorts and a muscle tank, crossing his arms as he leaned against the doorframe of her room. She was sure he’d never learn how to wait before barging in. It was a brother thing, she supposed.

“I am now.” Wanda met his eyes with a straight face, clearly unamused. It wasn’t because she was feeding the twins: she’d be more concerned if he asked her to cover herself up because he was uncomfortable, with how many times he had walked into her room without so much as knocking. He, at the very least, had learned to do that much.

“Am I watching them today or not?” Pietro huffed, rolling his eyes. Sassy man apocalypse. It was unfortunate, really. He was such a good brother, she didn’t know why he had to be an asshole sometimes. It was a brother thing she supposed.

“You said you would?” Wanda fixed him with a stare, shaking her head just slightly. School had started a month and a half ago; why was he questioning the schedule they had made? Granted, she had to remind him everyday he watched them. Whatever. He was the only one she truly trusted watching the twins and was beyond grateful, even if he could be the most annoying human. She’s sure he cries more than the twins combined.

“You weren’t responding to my texts.” He shrugged, biting out of an apple that seemed to appear out of thin air in his hand. He did that a lot. Which was weird considering how Wanda notices just about everything. Like how both of his socks had holes and he wouldn’t buy another pair because they were ‘still good’. His words, not hers.

“What time is it?” Wanda couldn’t exactly look at her phones, the twins still in her arms. That was weird, though. Wanda was almost always up earlier than him, especially after having the twins. She liked to joke that they were her own personal alarm clock; waking her up at hours that Pietro considered bedtime. Pietro just said she was getting old and her jokes were getting lame.

“Like… nine.” He looked at his phone, turning it towards her. It was two minutes before nine. Fuck. She was supposed to be up by eight and leaving by nine thirty. She was so fucked. Her alarm went off. But that was the first alarm, not her second one.

“Fuck. Are you- you’re joking.” Wanda sat up, wincing slightly as the twins didn’t appreciate the sudden change in position. She mumbled a soft sorry to them, her comforter pooling around her stomach. She hated her stomach. Didn’t want to think about how disgusting it had become after giving birth. She’d do it again if it meant having her babies. “Why would I-”

“Get out! I- oh my god.” Wanda was vaguely aware of the fact that she had gone to bed without shorts on. It had become more common since she started seeing Nat, a side effect of falling asleep after a single orgasm, she was sure. That and she didn’t anticipate her brother waking her up. “I don’t have clothes on!”

Pietro made some sort of barfing sound before turning, closing the door behind her. Realistically, there was nothing she could do until the twins were done eating. She still stood up, using her foot to find the pair of leggings she had worn the day before. Nat had said they made her ass look fat, that she needed to buy more flair leggings because there was just something about them. She had also said her tits looked good in a nursing bra. Wanda wasn’t so sure about that.

It took longer than she would’ve like to find them, flinging them onto her bed before searching for some kind of top. Tommy had stopped eating and had started fussing. She couldn’t do much but rock and shush him. She caught herself in the mirror, stopping almost immediately. She had no time to do her hair or makeup.

“C’mon Billy. I need you to hurry up.” Wanda glanced at the younger of the twins, her eyes flitting between the two. It was a habit of hers. Making sure they were both here. That they were actually hers.

As soon as he finished she was burping them, standing topless in the middle of her room. It didn’t take long before they were both situated in their bassinets, both fed and happy. Wanda was neither of those things. She felt like one of those old shows where they ran around like a madman trying to find something. She was running around like a madman trying to figure out what she was doing. She pulled on her pants and a sweatshirt, hair tie held in her mouth as she roughly brushed her hair back into a snarly ponytail. She’d fix it later.

“I didn't have time to pump, so this will have to do.” Wanda was laying the twins in Pietro’s arms before taking two frozen baggies out of the freezer, running the faucet while she got her backpack ready. She was throwing random things in there; notebooks, her laptop, a random bar sitting on the island. A bowl was filled with warm water, the two baggies tossed in there before she put them in the fridge. “You know where all their stuff is. Milk is in the fridge.”

Wanda shrugged her jacket on, pulling her backpack on after and her hair out of them, walking towards the living room. She kissed both of the babies foreheads, telling them both she loved them before she was pulling on her shoes and out the door. It was 9:38. She’d make it on time. Hopefully.

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Wanda knocked lightly at the door, a nervous smile pulling at her lips caught between her teeth. She had an hour before her next class and while she’d normally eat lunch, she had an appetite for something other than eating. She wasn’t sure what she was doing. Apologizing, maybe. Begging if called for. She wouldn’t be against it if it was asked.

“Come in.” The professor’s voice flitted through the door, a familiar coolness she had become accustomed to. The brunette took a deep breath before pushing the door open, gauging the reaction of the teacher. The woman’s face morphed into something between surprise and happiness. That was a good sign. Wanda shut the door behind her, slowly approaching the desk. Cautiously.

Wanda smiled as the woman pushed her chair out from the desk, all but pouncing on her. She wasn’t even fully straddling the woman before she was kissing her, attempting to thread her fingers through red hair. Of course this was the one day the redhead wore her hair in a bun.

“Good afternoon to you too.” Natasha spoke slowly, a certain rasp accompanying her tone. It only made Wanda want her more, fully settling into her lap and attaching her lips to the others once again. She didn’t know why she was so needy all of a sudden, wanting nothing more than to have hot office sex with the woman, no cares about the outside world.

“Less talking, more kissing.” Wanda mumbled as she trailed her lips down the redhead’s neck. It was a mix between kissing, biting and sucking, beyond sure she would leave bruises. She smirked smugly, knowing Nat would have to fumble with foundation before the meeting or walk out of it with a bruised neck. Both options sounded amazing to her.

“I saw you two days ago-” Nat was cut off by Wanda kissing her hard, their lips smacking. The brunette ground against her pelvis, tugging the redhead’s hands onto her waist. For as touchy as she was when they were at her house, she was lacking greatly all of a sudden.

“Two days too many.” The student pulled back just slightly, fixing the woman with a stare. She wanted Nat to get the hint and, at the very least, touch her. A quickie would be even better. That made her stomach drop, barely able to hold back a whine at the thought.

“What happened to no sex in the office?” Natasha questioned with that damn eyebrow raised. That alone had Wanda nearly begging for more. She ground against the redhead again, delighted when the woman met her. Nat’s hands slowly crawled to the bottom of her bra, sending a chill down her spine. This was going to be good.

“Don’t care.” Wanda muttered, surging forward to kiss the woman again. She moaned into her mouth, Nat’s lips beginning to move against hers. Her hands returned to her bun, whining as she tugged just slightly.

“Or,” Natasha dragged the word out as she grabbed the hair at the back of the brunette’s head, pulling Wanda with little difficulty off of her neck, “You’re trying to distract me so that I wouldn't notice that you were late this morning?” Wanda’s face blushed a bright red, her swollen lips and dazed look only adding to Nat’s delight. Wanda was easy to fluster. A touch here, a glance there, a sneaky text during class when Wanda wasn’t even supposed to be on her phone. It was probably a kink with how much pride she took in seeing the girl blush. She was too busy to care.

“Oh.” And somehow her blush deepened, her lips pulling up in that small embarrassed smile she did, her teeth tugging her bottom lip into her mouth. While making out had been her tactic to make Nat forget about it, she was beyond hopeful Nat wouldn’t have remembered this morning at all. Clearly though, much like everything else in her life, that didn’t work. “No?”

“Is that an answer or a question?” Nat had long ago let go of her hair, her hands settling back onto the girl's thighs with an eyebrow raised. Wanda pouted, whining slightly as the redhead’s fingers began to dance against the skin. It felt pathetic; whimpering on some woman’s lap because they weren’t actively making out, but she hadn’t exactly made out with someone other than Nat in months. It wasn’t her fault she was high and dry.

“Baby.” Wanda whined, moving her hands up the woman’s shoulders and neck to cup her cheeks, the tips of her fingers digging softly into her hairline. She knew Nat held a lot of tension in her temples, having seen her hold her head during class damn near daily and especially after anything loud. Nat had mentioned something about migraines in passing and Wanda had encouraged she get it checked, but Nat only brushed her off, stating it was her ‘old age’ getting to her. “I didn’t mean to, okay?”

“That doesn’t excuse the fact that you were late.” Nat’s tone softened, her eyes shifting between the brunette’s as sympathy washed over her features. Wanda looked genuinely sorry, like she had some reason as to why she walked in over twenty minutes late.

“I know. I just-” Wanda sighed, looking past the redhead as her vision became blurry. Her hands returned to the woman’s hair, running the tips of her fingers down the back of her head, something she did with the twins. At lot of her coping mechanisms had stemmed from things she did with them. It was funny, how they were what saved her and continue to do so.

“Hey, why the tears, love?” And like that, she had ruined the mood. She was good at that. She only shook her head, not able to look at the redhead with the way her eyes were filled with sympathy. Nat treated her too well. She didn’t deserve how well Nat treated her.

“I overslept and then my brother, and the twins, and I still left early enough to get here but there wasn’t any parking and I had to park a block away even though I pay how much for a parking pass and-” Wanda cut herself off with a gasp, roughly shoving the palms into her eyes to try and stop her tears. It of course didn’t work, no matter how much she wishes it did. She could hardly look at Nat, too caught up in her flustered morning recap. “And people walk so fucking slow and take up thr entire goddamn hallway and I can’t pass them so of course I walk in and everybody has to look at me like I’m some kind of terrible person and they’re not wrong bu-”

“Wanda, Wanda, calm down, baby.” Natasha was wiping her tears, when had she started crying, gently shaking both of their heads. She pressed their lips together just barely, watching as the brunette’s eyes fluttered shut. The redhead was so gentle. It was a stark contrast to how she was in class; mean and cold turning into gentle and warm. Wanda practically melted into her, her forehead tipping forward until it was touching the older woman’s.

“You need to take a deep breath, Wanda. It’s okay, okay? We all have our days and yes, it’s frustrating and beyond irritating, but we need to not get so worked up over it, yeah? It’s a pain in the ass. Besides, it’s better than missionary.” Nat rubbed her thumbs over the pads of her cheeks, talking slowly and without judgment. Wanda knew this wasn’t the first time the woman had calmed down someone from spiraling, having been in the same situation at least once a week. And yet, the redhead stayed. “But you-” Wanda’s chuckle was watery, the brunette pulling back and shaking her head as she dragged the heel of her hand against her cheeks.

“I was only teasing.” Natasha chuckled back as she reached for a tissue, handing it to the younger. Wanda turned away as she blew her nose, the professor’s hand almost immediately rubbing up and down her back. The brunette dropped the kleenex in the trash under the woman’s desk, a pout on her face. She wiggled in the redhead’s arms until she was under her chin, pushing out a breath of hot air against her chest. “Fuck you.”

“Oh, I intend to.” Nat’s hands crawled up her back, easily unhooking her bra. Wanda gasped quietly, pressing a kiss against the woman’s collarbone before pulling her head back. Nat had that damn eyebrow raised, almost as if she were challenging Wanda. And Wanda was not about to back down. She dropped her hands onto the woman’s shoulders, meeting her halfway with open mouthed kisses. It was all teeth, pure adrenaline coursing through their bodies.

“And I like missionary.” Wanda used her thumbs to turn her professor’s face up, her own smirk pulling at her lips as she forced them apart. It was all she said before her thumbs vanished under the woman’s shirt, pulling the straps of her bra up and letting go at the same time as she nipped at the woman’s chin.

“You little shit.” Natasha pushed them on the chair until the brunette’s back was against the desk, her mouth opening with a slightly pained gasp. The redhead countered the brunette’s action by sliding her hands around to cup her breasts, leaning forward to kiss her again. Their tongues easily slid across each other’s, matching sounds of want echoing between them. It was fast and sloppy, their bodies moving together in sync as they ground against each other, all wanton and needy.

The door rattling against a heavy knocking had them stopping, each woman panting. “What the fuck?” Wanda pulled away from Nat, staring at her with wide and accusatory eyes. She had checked Nat’s schedule prior to showing up unannounced, knowing for a fact the woman had nothing going on for another hour, when Wanda’s final class of the day started. God, she hated how much that made her sound like a stalker. And obsessive. She wasn’t sure which was worse. Either way, no one should’ve been knocking like they had some sort of appointment because as far as she was concerned, they didn’t.

“Don’t look at me like that.” Nat hissed, removing her hands from under the girls shirt. She didn’t move more than that, keeping Wanda on her lap as they both waited in silence. There was a chance it was some student that, like Wanda, had showed up without an appointment, but Nat knew that if they didn’t say anything, the chances of them leaving were higher than not.

“Knock knock!” A clearly feminine voice fluttered through the door with another light knock, a familiar warmth that both women knew. It forced them into action; Wanda stumbling off of Nat’s lap while pulling her shirt down, awkwardly shoving her bra to cup her breasts instead of Nat’s hands, while Nat rubbed the lipstick off of her skin, fixing her own clothes and posture from where she was sat. “One moment!”

Wanda had just enough of a mind to drag her backpack from where it was dropped next to her, pulling her laptop from her bag. “Are you fucking kidding me?!” Wanda muttered while logging in, attempting to brush her hair out. It was a lost mess, her soft waves turning snarly.

“You think I knew someone was going to show up?” Nat muttered back, reaching across her desk to rub at Wanda’s own lipstick. She’s sure it was as smudged as hers, though she was hoping that the low light of the lamps in her office would somehow hide that. Wanda shook her hand away, dragging the wrist of her sweatshirt across her mouth, wiping away any leftover makeup. The door was opening in all but two seconds, a tall brunette woman impatiently pushing through the doorway.

“Oh! I didn’t know you were meeting with someone! I’ll only be a few.” The brunette returned the woman’s smile, though how genuine it was was up for debate. Wanda could vaguely place the woman’s voice. She definitely knew it, from where though, she was unsure.

“What can I do for you, Harkness?” Natasha gave the woman a faux smile, not catching the slight flinch the youngest of the three made at the mention of her name, her attention fully on the older woman. Agatha Harkness was the last person she wanted to see after making out with girlfriend. Fuck that, she didn’t want to see her at all.

“I was just looking to go over the meeting outline, in private.” Wanda was unsure of whether or not Agatha knew it was her. If she did, the weird sappiness in her tone was definitely meant to be some kind of retaliation for withdrawing from her class a month and a half before finals, itf it wasn’t… If it wasn’t, then she didn’t know. Either way, she was not about to deal with her. Not here and not now.

“Of course, let me just finish up with Wanda he-” Nat cleared her throat, gesturing to the younger before clasping her hands. They made eye contact for what felt like the first time in hours, Nat’s nonchalant demeanor a stark contrast to Wanda’s panicked state. The redhead almost looked like she didn’t know what to say, her mouth open once as Wanda shook her head.

“That’s okay, I’m just gonna-” Wanda closed her laptop with a slam, shoving it into her backpack as fast as she could. She needed to be out of that classroom as soon as possible, no questions asked. She had no idea how long until her class started, nor did she care, focused on getting out.

“Are you sure you don’t want to-” Nat cut her off with, what seemed to be, a genuine question, standing just slightly with a hand held out, but Wanda only shook her head as she stood, slinging her backpack over her shoulder. She was cut off by the eldest, though, an overdramatic shocked gasp pulling both of their eyes to her.

“Wanda! It’s so good to see you again!” And that sickeningly sweet tone was back, some twisted grin shining on her face. It made Wanda’s stomach churn. The woman practically rushed up to her, taking her into her arms like a mother who had lost and then found their child. It makes her heart hurt for her own babies. Her face was all but shoved between the woman’s tits, a move she was sure Agatha was doing on purpose. She had always been like that. She waited until Nat spoke to pull away as the eldests arms held her in place, though she didn’t get far as Agatha wrapped an arm around her, her fingers curling into the bottom of her ponytail.

“You two know each other?” Natasha sounded shocked, like she didn’t know of the rumors flying around the department about Wanda. More specifically, about Wanda and Agatha. It was unlikely, though the confused look shining through her nonchalant stance had Wanda questioning her. If anything, she was praying Nat didn’t know what had happened. And from their many, many chats, she didn’t.

“Know?! Honey, Wanda was only my best student last semester before she dropped out for personal reasons.” Wanda felt like some kind of doll; Agatha’s hand petting the nape of her neck and down her back, a fake look of despair thrown on her face. She felt like a trophy, like Agatha was flaunting her for her own sick fantasy. It’s not like that was far off: Agatha had told her she had been her most willing student in years.

“It was a shame, really. Not getting to teach your star pupil anymore. She is looking quite better now, though, wouldn’t you say, superstar?” And now both of the women’s attention was on her, a look filled with expectation mirrored on each other’s faces. They each were expecting something different, though. Nat looked like she wanted to know what had happened, like she needed to protect Wanda from… whatever. No protection now, Wanda thought bitterly. Agatha… Agatha was expecting a reason. A reason for dropping out, for giving up, for acting like nothing had happened between them.

"Totally.” Wanda mumbled, pinching the insides of her wrists. She couldn’t handle this. Not today, at least. Maybe not ever. She needed Agatha to stop touching her hair, for Nat to stop looking at her like she was some kind of victim, for herself to stop believing she could keep running and not be dragged back down. The chances of any of the three happening were close to zero.

“You know, we could always use more students in Art History in the United States. I don’t mean to be a brag, but I hear the unit on the 1600’s tends to be a favorite.” She was lying. Wanda knew. Nat chuckled with the woman, but Wanda knew what joining her class entailed. Knew she’d be cornered with no way out. She wasn’t letting that happen again.

“I’ll think about it, but I gotta g-” So she lied back, taking a step forward to finally get away from the woman’s claws. And they were claws, with how sharp she liked to keep her nails, there was no way she hadn’t accidentally purposefully drawn blood with them. She was looking at Nat for any way out, though the redhead looked like she was enjoying Wanda's struggle, like she and Agatha had planned this.

“Why so soon? We’re only just catching up, toots!” Strike three for that damn sugary sweetness that Wanda knew was fake. She shakes her head, her vision slowly becoming wet. Why was she going to start crying? Couldn’t she have control over something? It didn’t help that her chest felt like it was going to rip apart if she took a breath that was too big.

“You can stay, Wanda. I’m sure Agatha only needs a few things cleared up.” Natasha smiled at her, rounding her desk to place a hand on her shoulder. Wanda all but shrugged away from it. There were too many things touching her. She was wet and sticky and hot. Why was it so hot all of a sudden?

“I-” Wanda stuttered, her mind blanking completely. She didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t breathe. If she moved to far forward, she’d run into Nat. Too far back, Agatha. Why couldn’t she just leave? She needed to leave. She couldn’t breathe. She can’t fucking breathe and everyone’s watching her and she’s going to explode and-

“I need to pee.” And with that Wanda pushed past the older woman, all but booking it into the nearest bathroom. What the fuck had just happened? One second she's making out with, quite frankly, one of the hottest people she's ever met and the next she's being shown off like a consolation prize. And on top of it all, she desperately needed a change of panties. Of course, she hadn’t exactly planned to have a hot steamy makeout session on a rolling desk chair, but it happened and now she was left very uncomfortable and very unsatisfied. She was never starting a makeout session in that god forsaken office again.