#there is not a moment where this man gets peace

[rafedarling]

𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞’𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠

pairing: dad!drew starkey x mom!reader

summary: drew tries to play a playful prank by taking off his wedding ring, but his smart and sweet 2-year-old son, rustyn, immediately notices and innocently points out that it might make mommy sad. what starts as a simple joke turns into a heartwarming reminder of the love and connection between you, drew, and your son, and the importance of the little things that symbolize that love.

warning(s): english is not my native language. pure fluff, heartwarming family moments, playful teasing, and deep emotional connections.

au’s: like, reblog and feedback are much appreciated. taglist | tagging: @rafeyslamb @tracymbcm @enjoymyloves @akobx @rubixgsworld @xoxohoneymoongirl @mileyraes @maybankslover @noobmazter69 @littlelamy @wearemadeofstardust0 @xoxosblogsblog @saviorcomplexrry @bisexualcvnt @stuffyownswrld @anamiad00msday

The afternoon sun streamed lazily through the living room windows, casting a soft, golden glow over the space. The warmth of the sunlight and the gentle sound of waves from outside made everything feel peaceful and calm—your perfect little haven. You were curled up on the couch with your son, Rustyn, nestled comfortably in your lap, his small head resting against your chest. He was two, but sometimes you marveled at how much older he seemed, with his sharp curiosity and his endless questions.

Rustyn’s favorite book was in your hands as you read to him, your voice soft and soothing as you flipped through the colorful pages. Every few moments, Rustyn would point to a picture and ask you about it. His little hands would grab at the air in excitement as he processed each new detail.

“Mommy, why is that bunny wearing a hat?” Rustyn asked, his bright blue eyes full of curiosity.

You chuckled softly, brushing a hand through his soft curls. “Maybe he’s going on an adventure, sweetie. What do you think?”

Rustyn considered this seriously, his face scrunching up in concentration. “Yeah, maybe. I like adventures.”

“I know you do,” you said with a smile, kissing the top of his head. “You’ll have lots of them when you get bigger.”

Rustyn nodded, clearly satisfied with your answer, and snuggled closer to you. He let out a small sigh, content in the warmth of your embrace. You couldn’t help but smile, your heart swelling with love as you continued to read. These were the moments you cherished—the quiet, everyday moments that made your little family feel complete.

As you were nearing the end of the story, you noticed Drew standing in the kitchen, leaning casually against the counter. He was watching the two of you with that familiar look of affection in his eyes, the one that always made you feel so loved. But today, there was something else—a mischievous twinkle that you hadn’t quite noticed before.

Drew took a sip of water, then set the glass down with a small, playful smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. You raised an eyebrow at him, wondering what he was up to. He didn’t say anything, just casually strolled into the living room and leaned down to scoop Rustyn up from your lap.

“Come here, little man,” Drew said, his voice warm as he lifted Rustyn into his arms.

Rustyn squealed in delight, wrapping his tiny arms around Drew’s neck and giggling as Drew spun him around in a playful circle. “Dada!” Rustyn cried out, his laughter echoing through the room.

“Having fun with Mommy?” Drew asked, settling Rustyn on his hip, still grinning as he glanced at you.

“Yeah! Mommy was reading to me,” Rustyn said proudly, his voice full of excitement.

But as Rustyn snuggled against Drew, his sharp little eyes caught something unusual. He tilted his head, his gaze narrowing in confusion as he stared at Drew’s left hand. You hadn’t noticed it before, but now, following Rustyn’s gaze, you realized that Drew’s wedding ring was missing.

Rustyn furrowed his tiny brow, clearly puzzled. His voice, though small and innocent, was filled with a sense of concern. “Dada...where’s your ring?”

You blinked, surprised by how quickly Rustyn had noticed. You hadn’t even realized it yourself, but there it was—Drew’s left hand, conspicuously bare. You glanced at Drew, raising an eyebrow as you waited for him to respond.

Drew, ever the playful one, kept his cool. He smiled down at Rustyn, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. “Oh, that? Dada just didn’t feel like wearing it today, buddy.”

Your mouth dropped open slightly as you watched Drew, a mixture of amusement and curiosity bubbling up inside you. What was he up to? He knew how much that ring meant to both of you, and though it wasn’t a serious situation, you couldn’t help but wonder how this was going to play out.

Rustyn, however, wasn’t so easily fooled. His little face scrunched up again, and he looked from Drew’s hand to your face, his innocent expression filled with concern. He tugged lightly on Drew’s shirt, trying to make sense of what he was hearing.

“Dada,” Rustyn said in his most serious tone, his voice soft but full of wisdom beyond his years, “you know you gonna make Mommy sad.”

The room fell into silence, the weight of Rustyn’s innocent words settling between the three of you. You felt your heart swell as you looked at your son, his little face so earnest and full of love for both of you. His concern for your feelings, even at such a young age, was enough to make your heart melt.

Drew’s grin faltered slightly as he looked at Rustyn, clearly taken aback by his son’s sharp observation. The teasing light in his eyes softened, and he let out a small chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief. “Oh really?” he asked, his voice filled with affection as he looked back down at Rustyn. “You think Mommy will be sad if I don’t wear my ring?”

Rustyn nodded, his tiny hand reaching out to touch Drew’s bare finger. “Yeah, ‘cause it means you love her.”

You felt a lump form in your throat at Rustyn’s sweet words, and you had to blink back the sudden tears that pricked at your eyes. How did this little boy know so much? How could someone so young be so in tune with your feelings? It was moments like these that reminded you just how special Rustyn was.

Drew’s eyes softened even further as he looked at you, and the playful smirk faded into something much more tender. He reached into his pocket, pulling out his wedding ring with a slow, deliberate motion. He slid it back onto his finger, never breaking eye contact with you.

“Well, we can’t have Mommy being sad, can we, buddy?” Drew said softly, his voice warm as he turned his attention back to Rustyn. “Is that better?”

Rustyn’s face lit up with a smile so wide it made your heart flutter. “Yeah, Dada! Now you make Mommy happy again!”

Drew chuckled, glancing at you with a loving smile. “What do you think? Is our little man right? Does the ring make you happy?”

You smiled back at him, your heart full as you nodded. “He’s always right,” you said softly, reaching out to gently squeeze Drew’s hand. “You know how much that ring means to me.”

Drew leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, his hand still entwined with yours. “I know, baby,” he whispered, his voice low and full of affection.

Rustyn, clearly pleased with the resolution of the situation, snuggled into Drew’s chest, his tiny arms wrapping around his dad’s neck. “Dada loves Mommy,” he said with absolute certainty, as if there had never been any doubt.

Drew smiled, looking down at Rustyn with nothing but love in his eyes. “You’re right, Rusty. I love Mommy very much.”

Rustyn nodded solemnly, as if he had solved a great mystery. “I knew it,” he said with a proud grin.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, your heart swelling with love for both Drew and Rustyn. You reached out, wrapping your arms around both of them, pulling them into a warm hug. “I love you both so much,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to Rustyn’s cheek before turning to Drew and kissing him softly on the lips.

Drew smiled against your lips, his hand resting on the small of your back as he held you close. “We love you too,” he murmured, his voice full of warmth and tenderness.

As the three of you sat there, wrapped up in each other’s love, the world outside seemed to fade away. It was just the three of you—your perfect little family, full of love, laughter, and moments like these that made everything else seem small in comparison.

Rustyn, ever the observant toddler, let out a small yawn, his little body relaxing as the excitement of the day began to catch up with him. He nestled deeper into Drew’s arms, his eyes fluttering closed as he snuggled into the warmth of his dad’s chest.

As you watched Drew tuck your son into bed, your heart swelled with love once more. It was moments like these—simple, sweet moments—that made you realize just how lucky you were to have this little family.

As Drew gently closed Rustyn’s bedroom door, he turned to you with a soft smile, his hand reaching for yours. “You know I was just teasing with the ring, right?” he asked quietly, pulling you into his arms as he led you back toward the living room. His voice was low and full of sincerity now, the earlier playfulness gone, replaced by a quiet tenderness.

You smiled up at him, resting your hand against his chest as you felt the steady rhythm of his heartbeat under your palm. “I know,” you replied softly, your eyes meeting his. “But Rustyn was right. It does mean a lot to me, even if it’s just a ring.”

Drew’s expression softened even further, and he lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of it. “I know, baby. I’ll never take it off again, I promise,” he said, his tone serious but still filled with that warmth you loved so much. “At least not without a really good reason.”

You laughed softly, leaning into him as his arms wrapped around you, pulling you close. “You better not,” you teased, your voice playful but laced with affection.

Drew smiled down at you, his forehead resting against yours as he held you in the quiet comfort of the moment. “I know I joke around sometimes,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I don’t ever want you to doubt how much I love you. This ring—it’s a promise, not just for show.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you nodded, your hand still resting against his chest as you leaned into him. “I never doubt it,” you whispered back. “Not for a second.”

The two of you stood there for a few more moments, wrapped up in each other’s warmth. The house was quiet now, save for the soft sound of Rustyn’s rhythmic breathing coming from his bedroom, and the golden light of the setting sun cast a warm glow through the windows, making everything feel peaceful and serene.

Drew’s arms tightened around you slightly, and he let out a contented sigh, his lips brushing against your temple as he held you. “Rustyn’s growing up so fast,” he murmured, his voice filled with a mixture of pride and awe. “I still can’t believe how smart he is—how much he picks up on.”

You smiled softly, pulling back just enough to look up at him. “I know,” you agreed, your voice filled with love for your little boy. “He’s always surprising me with how much he understands. I wasn’t expecting him to notice your ring like that.”

Drew chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “Neither was I. I thought I’d get away with the prank at least until bedtime.” His smile softened, and he glanced down at his hand, where the ring now sat securely. “But you know what? I’m glad he noticed.”

You tilted your head, curious. “Why’s that?”

Drew’s eyes met yours again, his gaze full of love and affection. “Because it reminded me how much this little ring means. Not just to you, but to him too. He understands that it’s important—he gets that it’s a symbol of how much we love each other. And that… well, that makes me even prouder to wear it.”

Your heart melted at his words, and you reached up to cup his face, your thumb gently brushing along his jawline. “You’re a good man, Drew Starkey,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

Drew smiled, his eyes soft and full of love. “And you’re the love of my life,” he replied, his voice just as tender.

He leaned down then, capturing your lips in a slow, sweet kiss that made your heart flutter in your chest. His hands rested gently on your waist as he pulled you even closer, and you could feel the steady beat of his heart against yours, a perfect rhythm that matched the quiet contentment of the moment.

When you finally pulled away, Drew rested his forehead against yours once more, his breath warm against your skin. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice so quiet it was almost lost in the stillness of the room.

“For what?” you asked softly, your fingers gently threading through his hair.

“For this. For our life. For Rustyn. For everything.” He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his expression filled with so much love that it made your heart ache. “I wouldn’t trade a single moment for anything.”

You smiled, feeling the same rush of love and gratitude that you felt every time you looked at him. “Neither would I,” you whispered back.

The two of you stood there everything felt perfect—your little family, your life together, the quiet joy that filled your days. It wasn’t always grand gestures or big moments that made life special. Sometimes, it was the small, simple things—like the way Drew looked at you when he wore his ring, or the way Rustyn’s innocent questions could change the course of a day—that reminded you just how lucky you were.

[nepenthendline]

you've corrupted the chief justice - neuvillette x reader (ft wriothesley)

summary: you and wriothesley have a full conversation about your sex life with neuvillette without saying a single word

a/n: this is neuvillette x reader but its mainly focused on wriothesley, wriothesley being a menance, neuvillette has no idea what the fuck is going on, complete choas, mentions of sex but sfw otherwise, no mention of gender, poor writing but oh well

Once every few weeks, the 4 of you, which includes Neuvillette, Wriothesley, Furina, and yourself, finally get a chance where your schedules aline to relax together. These times are always held in Neuvillette's office with a table full of cakes, desserts, and teas to snack on as you catch up. Since your relationship with the Iudex began, you've grown close to those Neuvillette sees as family and look forward to these peaceful reunions.

You were all sat around the table, with Neuvillette on your left, Wriothesley in front of you and Furina on your right. Neuvillette and Furina had been discussing some recent trials for a while now - you nor Wriosthesley had much to add, neither of you had much involvement when it came to the trials, but you listened in whilst enjoying your desserts.

After a few minutes, you felt something nudge your leg under the table from in front of you. With furrowed brows, you looked up towards Wriothesley to see him looking back at you with a mischievous smirk. Oh, archons... you've seen this look a few times - when he's bored and thought of something to entertain himself

His eyes darted between you and Neuvillette, his finger subtly following, pointing at the both of you. Then, his index finger and thumb joined together to create a circle, whilst his other index finger poked in and out of said circle. With his brow raised, you could tell he was asking you.

You stifled a chuckle as his immaturity before nodding smugly to answer his question - yes, the two of you have had sex.

He nodded along, his smirk growing larger as if to say he knew, then pondered for a moment, looking at the Iudex next to him. Seconds later, he looked back to you, raising 1 finger, then all 10 whilst mouthing '1 to 10' and flashing his eyes at your partner.

You covered your mouth with your hand as if to be in thought, but truly, you were trying to stop yourself from laughing at his antics - discussing such activities in front of the Chief Justice and Archon. Despite having no experience or even desire before you, Neuvillette was quick to learn when it came to pleasuring you, and he was certainly enthusiastic. You held up all 10 fingers, close to the table, to not draw too much attention.

Wriothesley's mouth formed an 'o' shaped, slightly taken back by your rating of his boss, but seemed to get past it quickly. He leaned forward in his seat, pointed between 2 of the cakes on the decorated table, and then looked at you. Your head tilted, glancing between the cakes and the man in front of you, trying to figure out what he meant. Then, you realised the difference between the two desserts - one was vanilla and one was chocolate. You could only assume he was trying to decipher whether Neuvillette was a simple vanilla lover or someone more adventurous.

You blew air into your cheeks, slouching back into your chair whilst in thought. Neuvillette certainly wasn't what you would describe as 'kinky', in fact, even associating that word with him makes you shiver a little, but he was open to trying whatever you desired. There were more daring things that he liked, such as having his hair pulled, messing around in places where he may get caught, or having you take control. He was learning, after all, about himself, about you, and about sex in general, so who knew what undiscovered things he was into.

You held out your finger and wiggled it between the 2 cakes and shrugged - you couldn't really give a clear answer to that one at the moment.

The Duke slumped back into his chair, staring at you with a devilish look for what felt like minutes. You squinted your eyes at him playfully - what was he thinking?

A few moments later, his hands were held in front of him, parallel to each other as if... to measure something. You shook your head at him in disbelief, sucking on your cheeks to hold back a grin. His hands were probably about 5 inches apart - certainly not big enough for the dragon.

'Bigger,' you mouthed at him and watched as his eyes grew wide. His hands moved apart slightly, perhaps 2 or so inches further apart.

'Bigger,' you mouthed again, the smirk on your face breaking through your facade. His jaw dropped.

'Are you two quite alright?' A deep voice startled you both away from your intense discussion. You hadn't realised that the other two had stopped talking a while ago.

'Never been better actually,' Wriothesley piped up, finally taking his eyes of you to face Neuvillette.

'Were you... having a discussion?' Neuvillette tentatively asked - he's been trying to learn about humans for 500 years, but he had no idea what he just witnessed. 'You two look like crabs trying to communicate,' he added. It almost sounded like an insult in his blunt voice, but you knew he meant that as a fact.

'Oh yes, a very productive, important discussion,' Wriothesley trails off, looking back at you with his brow raised. You gasped quietly at his response,

'Don't you dare-' you threated before he cuts you off, speaking up again, but this time with a face of pure horror,

'Wait! Have you...in here?' His eyes darted around the room as his interrogation continued. You couldn't help but giggle as you nodded, not missing the pure confusion on Neuvillette and Furina's faces.

He let out a dramatic gasp, gripping the armrests on his chair, then pointed at you.

'Jail time,' he jokingly declared. You threw your head back in laughter at his statement, clutching your sides.

'Wriosthesley, are you insinuating my beloved has committed a crime?' The Iudex questioned, his face as serious as if he were in the Opera House. However, you could see the cracks of bewilderment come through.

'Yes - put them on trial for corrupting the Chief Justice,' Wriothesley demanded, standing from his chair and pointing at you. Your laughter grew harder at his performance.

'I have done no such thing!' You declared, almost yelled, back at him. You could see his chest shake from the giggles he was trying to hold back.

'You disgust me. He was innocent before he met you,' he spat out. His words were so forced and dramatised, yet he was smiling? This was making Neuvillette's brain hurt.

'Wriosthesley,' he warned, narrowing his eyes at him - no one spoke to his partner like that, not even his family. Between your laughter, you placed your hand on your partners thigh to comfort him,

'He's just joking, it's ok,' you could see Neuvillette's body soften at your words, although it didn't clear up anything that was going on. Wriothesley sat back down in his chair, shaking his head at you whilst grinning.

'You little minx,' he muttered, picking up his tea cup and taking a sip. The room died down for a few moments, but the atmosphere was thick. You looked towards Furina, who hadn't said a word yet, and saw her cheeks were bright red.

'Monsieur Neuvillette, I-I think they may have been discussing your...private activites with dear (y/n),' she stuttered, picking up her plate of cake and stuffing it into her mouth.

'Oh,' normally you could read your partner easily, but right now you had no idea if he was confused, calm, angry?

'I'm sorr-'

'You could have just asked, Wriothesley.'

[roastedoatmilk]

Daisies and Tulips

Kento Nanami x Reader

Summary: The first year trio help Nanami pick out a bouquet of flowers for his partner

Word Count: 1.7k

Tags: fluff to the MAX, itafushi mention, nanami is in love with reader, megumi knows a lot about flowers, the trio being their silly selves

Little Things Masterlist

This is also available on ao3

A/N I hope you guys enjoy this part as much as I enjoyed writing it !! As always reblogs and comments are always very appreciated

Kento Nanami loved this time of year, the three beautiful months where both of his love’s favorite flowers bloom at the same time. It had been tricky at first trying to figure out a time where he would be able to purchase both of them together but after years of being with you he has nailed it down, so now as soon as it hits March 1st the blond heads to the local flower shop once a week to create a bouquet that never failed to make a smile grace your face. 

On this particular day just as Kento was getting ready to leave the school for the day, a rambunctious trio of first years bounded up to him right as he locked his door. The first grade sorcerer exhaled deeply at the sight of the teens, who hadn’t given him a moment of peace since the night that they had dinner with him and his partner. 

“What can I do for the three of you now?” The man questioned the trio.

The three students quickly looked at each other, having a silent conversation before turning back to the older man. Yuji steps forward seemingly being the one who was elected to speak. 

“Nanamin we were just wondering what sort of things you do for your partner to make their day?” The young boy’s brown eyes beamed up at Kento wide in curiosity. 

Nobara then cleared her throat and added on “Yeah you seem like the type to be a secret hopeless romantic, you both have been together for a while so I’m sure there’s at least one thing that you do for them since they haven’t dumped you yet.” 

Megumi says nothing but just nods along with what the other two are saying. Kento lets out a sigh, the sides of his mouth twitching as he tries not to smile. The fact that the teens are so eager to learn about you and about his relationship with you warms both his heart and your own. 

“Well this time of year I like to go to a flower shop and make a bouquet of their favorite flowers since there is only a short time frame where they both grow at the same time.” The blond man stated, no longer fighting off the urge to smile. 

Nobara and Yuji awed at hearing this while their raven haired counterpart flushes at the mention of said flower shop. Not long ago Megumi had run into the elder man and his partner at the shop looking at flowers. Kento had obviously recognized the boy and greeted him, causing you to greet the green eyed boy as well. Megumi, who had been overcome with embarrassment at interrupting this moment, stuttered out a greeting and introduced himself before turning around and booking it in the opposite direction. Thinking back to that moment causes the young teen to accidentally groan out loud, interrupting the onslaught of questions that the other two first years were asking Nanami.

Yuji’s head jerks in his boyfriend’s direction, concern evident in his eyes. The black haired boy flushed even deeper before waving Yuji off. Kento cleared his throat before stepping away from the trio.

“If that is all I really must be going, the shop closes in a few hours and I need to make it there before then.” The man spoke silently hoping that the answer he gave them would suffice. 

“Why don’t we go with you so that we can help?” Yuji asked his mentor, eyes mimicking that of a puppy. Nobara and Megumi nod in agreement.

Kento once again sighs before nodding his head at the pink haired boy, the trio cheered in response. The four then made their way to the flower shop. It was a relatively short walk, Nobara and Yuji filling the silence with their banter. Once they arrived Kento opened the door and held it for the trio, the bell chiming in the distance. 

“Ahhh welcome back Mr. Nanami, here for a bouquet for your partner?” The man behind the counter greeted the sorcerer, a smile on his face.

“Hello Haruto, yes I’m back for a bouquet, however this time these three are going to help me pick out the colors of the flowers.” Kento says before gesturing to the trio of teens.

The shopkeeper turned to the teens and asked “Well alright then, do any of you know the meanings of different flower colors.” 

Yuji looked at the other two puzzled and muttered “Flowers have meanings?” 

Nobara scoffs and says “Of course they do dumbass, I left my book about it in my dorm so I’m not going to be of much use.” a pout appearing on her face.

Megumi coughs before muttering, “I know a bit about the meanings of different flower colors.” the boy’s face once again a violent shade of red. 

His admittance of this caused Yuji and Nobara to look at him in complete shock, Megumi refused to meet their eyes instead focusing on the flowers in front of him. There was a wide variety of flowers spanning across the entire store, each type getting its own section with a multitude of colors. 

Megumi, still refusing to meet his peer’s eyes, turns to Nanami and asks, “What kind of flowers do they usually like?” His hands rubbing together, a clear sign that the boy is nervous.

“They like daisies and tulips, that’s why this time of year is perfect because it's the only time where they both bloom together.” The brown eyed sorcerer remarked with a small smile on his face. 

Megumi nods firmly before turning to Yuji and Nobara, grabbing their hands and dragging them over to the daisy section first. 

“Okay so for daisies I think we should get blue, they mean long-term commitment, trust, honesty and loyalty.” Megumi shares before continuing, “Then I figured we could go with red which is not only a classic but they also mean passion, romance, and devotion.” 

Yuji and Nobara stare at the green eyed boy in complete shock before grabbing a couple flowers of each color. Neither expected their fellow first year to have this much knowledge about flowers but considering he was raised by Gojo it doesn’t come as too much of a shock to them.

Once they have all of the daisies gathered Megumi makes his way over to where the tulip display is, taking a minute to look at all it has to offer. Yuji and Nobara stand quietly behind him as he observes, the two sharing a silent look of admiration for the boy. 

Megumi clears his throat before turning back around to face his friend and his boyfriend, “After looking over what they have I think we should get pink because they symbolize happiness, and I think we should also get orange because they represent passion and excitement.”

The boy plucks a couple flowers of each color from the display and turns back to his friends, “While its an uncommon combination of colors I think that the light blue of the daisies will look nice with the light pink of the tulips, and the red daisies with the orange tulips will also look nice.” Megumi explains. 

Yuji and Nobara nod in agreement, the teens then make their way over to the counter up front. Nanami is still standing there talking to the shopkeeper about you. 

“Yes, our five year anniversary is coming up soon and I already have the whole day planned out. The ring has been sitting in my pocket for months now but I just haven’t found the right time yet.” Kento whispers to the old man in front of him, as if he's trying to keep the proposal plan a secret.

The three teens gasp as they hear their mentor mention the ring, drawing the man’s attention to them. His eyes wide in shock, he wasn’t expecting them to hear about that. 

“Nanamin you’re going to propose to them??” Yuji asks, tears slightly welling up in his brown eyes at the idea of the man he admired so much taking such a big step in his life. 

“Come on, show us the ring I wanna see.” Nobara says moving her hand in a give me motion.

“I want to see it too.” Megumi utters his eyes darting in the opposite direction.

Kento sighs, taking off his goggles and pinching right between his eyes before reaching into his pocket and removing the velvet box that has been there for months. 

“Yes Itadori I will be proposing to them soon, now that everything has settled down and things aren’t as hectic.” Kento informed the trio before opening the velvet box to reveal a gorgeous ring. It was a silver band with leaf detailing all around it with a single pearl placed in the middle surrounded by even more leaf detailing. The three teens looked at the ring in awe knowing that you were going to love it. 

“Wow you sure know how to pick em Nanami.” Nobara admitted, her eyes transfixed on the ring.

“Yeah Nanamin they’re going to love it.” Yuji chimed in with even more tears in his eyes. 

“It’s beautiful, they'll love it.” Megumi agrees. 

Kento chuckles before closing the box and putting it back in his pocket, “Thank you, now let’s see what flowers the three of you picked out for them.” The blond man responded with a faint flush on his freckled face. 

The trio straighten up before showing their mentor the flowers they picked out. Nanami smiles before taking the flowers from each teen’s hand arranging them all together. 

“Wonderful work you three, I am sure they’ll be very happy with these.” Kento smiles at the kids. 

Kento hands the flowers to the shopkeeper so that they can be wrapped together and paid for. The shopkeeper smiles as he rings them up, having known you personally due to your former apprenticeship at the flower shop. 

“Have a great rest of your evening, they’re going to love them Kento.” The shopkeeper says before bidding them farewell.

Kento ushers the trio out of the shop and they make their way back to the school, the blond man making sure each teen makes it safely back to their dorms. Later that evening all three of the teens receive a text message from the man including a photo of you holding the bouquet with a wide grin and tears streaming down your face. Below the photo was a message that said “Thank you again for helping pick these out, they love them.”

A/N this is the ring

[fanaticsnail]

Snail!! Please, I have to many drawing wips already, you can't make me think of cowboy! Rosi right now!

(Unless?)

More Cowboy Rosinante? Don't mind if I indulge. Let's talk about how it'd work before we get into the little scenes.

Eyes

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 650+

He was halfway to death when he came to you.

The man had barely enough clothes to shroud him in, dripping and crusted over with blood belonging to who knows. As soon as you opened your front door, he slumped to his knees and gawked up at you with uncertain eyes that held such deep sorrow.

He claimed he had no idea who he was. All thoughts and notions as the man he chose to become was lost to him. His mind was a web of fog, clutching to each morsel of his mind, body and soul. There was nothing of him that remained: only language from his lips, and soft movement his body as he gazed up at you in the luminance of soft lamplight.

Your father tasked you to dress his wounds, and clean him up as best you could, while you waited for the medics and surgeons to attend him at your farm. Each swipe of flesh, each gentle caress, each smooth motion wiping the marred skin from the remains of his wounds slowly cleansed his body of a violent history lost to him. All you received in return was nothing but a soft look of wonder from the messy blonde receiving your care.

In that expression alone, you, and those who ran your family’s ranch, gave him a new name.

Eyes.

Those eyes never left you. Not for a single moment. Not while training with horses, learning the beasts, wrangling cattle, and showcasing stellar marksmanship. He only ever had eyes for you, and the rest of the workers gave him hell for it. With no other name to crown him with, the Eyes would have it.

When Eyes was crowned with his first hat, his heart swelled with pride. He had been with your family for so long, he felt as one of you. Each hazing he endured, brand he gifted, and championship he managed to win in riding and shooting, he only ever sought you out with that gaze that never left you.

Eyes was your protector. He stuck by you as chaperone to each foul date, never asking questions while only gazing at you from the rearview mirror of your father’s truck. Escorting you inside your family’s homestead by a gentle hand and a kind smile, Eyes ensured you were safe before tipping his hat to you and bidding you a silent farewell.

That's how you remained, Eyes watching on from afar while he graced you with that soft smile you had come to pine for. Washing his face in a troff first thing in the morning, placing a cigarette between his lips and gently enjoying a cup of dark coffee, he always seemed to find where you were with those twin hazel orbs.

There was a crack of red lightning in the warmth of his irises, something simmering beneath the surface. Something partially unhinged and hidden from all of you. While he pined and yearned for you in the silence of ten years, he never once stepped out to find the path leading him back to his memory. Only ever the gentleman, he simply never made a move on you to keep the peace between your family and yourself.

But one day, he finally plucked up the courage to do so.

Just as he was about to take that first step up towards the house, hat in his hands and clutched to his chest, no whisper on his lips other than the rehearsed speech he practiced in the silence, he was desperate for a single name to speak to you. He was so close to finally confessing to you, finally giving in to those feelings he tried to repress, there was not a single thing that would hold him back from it now.

Until it appeared at his leather-boot clad heels.

All it took was a yellow-tanned bounty with a face of a foreign man in a white spotted hat to have that red flash auburn in his eyes. Eyes would find his name, learn his family, and know all of the things he had ever done as both marine and pirate under the name of law and lawless.

Donquixote Rosinante: former marine, saboteur to the Donquixote Pirates, protector of Trafalgar Law, and proclaimed dead by those who witnessed it happen in the fall of soft snow, was holding a page with a face of a boy now grown to a man.

That same Trafalgar Law he wanted to protect had made a name living up to that middle initial that willed him to.

Romance would have to wait for this cowboy, now posed with a quest to seek out that history and reclaim it as himself again. Eyes would be yours eventually, but for now, he needed to be Donquixote Rosinante again.

[dark-and-kawaii]

Seeing others thirst over your male characters makes me feel better since I thought I was the only one. Now tell me about this new guy with the scars I need to know for sinful reasons

Oh yeah, no. You definitely aren’t alone with this and I’m honored for that ♡!!! Bahaha yes yes, I can tell you about Aedric! Please enjoy xoxo and thank you for the love ♡ ♡ ♡ I added pieces with Zevlor so you can get a feel for his character as well.

Aedric was actually created pre Lofn since he was introduced fairly early in our DnD campaign. He and his little brother were orphans that were taken in by Lynnania (Lofn’s mother the Queen). Aka her first two children despite not being of her blood. Unfortunately Aedric’s little brother passed.

When it comes to Zevlor, the two had a very rocky start and Aedric never liked the idea of his sister being with some washed up hellrider that couldn’t even protect his own people… During Lofn’s childbirth, as she was struggling to give birth and her screams could be heard, Aedric was pacing next to her angrily.

As Zevlor rushed into the chambers to be with his beloved, Aedric immediately drew his blade and held the sharp edge against Zevlor’s throat, growling- threatening, “Should she die, I will ensure you spend every waking moment haunted by the knowledge that her blood is on your hands thanks to that child you sowed inside her.”

It was only when the two went into battle and had to cover one another did Aedric begin to trust and respect Zevlor. And when Zevlor eventually killed Aradin that’s when Aedric finally accepted Zevlor. Hehehe ooops spoiler.

One time when Zevlor returned back to the castle, his form bloodied, his men trailing behind in a similar state. Aedric leaned against a wall, eyes narrowed as he listened... Watching as Lofn demanded what happened.

Zevlor’s gaze flickered to one of his men, his jaw clenched, an arm encircling Lofn as his other curled into a fist, “you fool! We were all nearly slaughtered because of your incompetence!”

Aedric pushed off the wall and quickly swept Lofn up, carrying her out from the room before locking her out. The air was thick as he turned, his eyes dark as he strode towards the accused man. The sound of his blade leaving its sheath before striking down the man that nearly got Zevlor killed…

Due to being raised by Lynnania and spending much of his time with her before her actual children were born he took on many of her traits. He’s ruthless, cold blooded, and does not hesitate to eliminate those he sees as obstacles. His actions often include lethal force, whether in battle or political maneuvering.

He tends to operate in shades of gray, making decisions that can be remorseless but always has his family & the people of Thay in mind. The people of Thay recognize Aedric as an incredibly skilled and deadly warrior as well as a capable diplomat, having help negotiate a peace treaty with a neighboring kingdom.

Aedric is known for his stoicism and dry wit- he often comes across as gruff and serious, but has moments where he’s humorous and has his guard down where he reveals deeper emotions.

Lofn and Aedric are extremely close, for example, when Lofn was little she often sought Aedric and Signa (her eldest blood brother) out. She would always cling to Aedric’s leg whenever they walked around the palace, and at times she’d even step on his toes so that he could walk around with her on his feet. During nights where terrible dreams haunted her she was usually found dragging Signa to Aedric’s room so that she could crawl in bed with him and have them both read her stories until she fell back asleep (though tired they didn’t mind doing this for her <3)

After proving himself worthy, Aedric gained the blessing of and became the rider of the third largest dragon in Thay, the Ancient Black Dragon.

[to-thelakes]

nothing but a pass time (lip gallagher x reader)

content warning(s); underage smoking, mentions of underage drinking, sad!lip, comfort, hints of angst (unrequited love)

summary; the summer had come around but you and lip were always the same. except it was harder to ignore your brewing feelings now.

series masterlist

i have edited and read this part over so many times that i feel like i'm not actually making it better anymore, so here it is! more of my babies, the next few parts are gonna get a little angst-heavy from both lip and reader's side but then i think it's gonna settle a bit and hopefully get a little better, i have the next three parts all partly/fully written and they're sad but also sweet (comfort is real and lip NEEDS iT, this poor man), so anyway, here's the new part hehe

“My dad would kill you if he found us,” You said as you rounded the corner with Lip. He had texted you, asking you to come and meet him. You didn’t mind. You’d been dying to see him after a too-long shift at the store. You had been there all day, sweating and dealing with shitty customers, and that one text was enough for you to be filled with a familiar sense of glee. 

You didn’t need a reason to see Lip, you never had but something about him asking to see you made you giddy. That text was enough to have you halfway out the door in minutes, changed, showered and beaming.

Though, that had always been the case.

The cigarette between your lips was new though. You had never been one for smoking but Lip had somehow gotten you into it. You only smoked with him though.

“They still think we’re dating?” Lip asked as you stopped by one of the pillars that held the El tracks up. The train only came every twenty minutes or so this late at night. So it was peaceful, quiet and you could smoke without being disturbed.

You were the one to plop yourself down first, feet aching from being on them all day. Working nearly a 10 hour shift was not for the weak and you were wondering why you’d bothered to do it to yourself.

“I dunno,” You shrugged as you took a drag of the cigarette Lip had handed to you. He sat down beside you, head resting back against the concrete. You let the smoke fill your lungs before you breathed it out into the night air. It was cooler than it had been all day, you didn’t feel like the air was suffocating you, just the cigarette, “Hard to tell with them at the moment,” You shrugged, the hint of something more beneath those words but neither of you dug into it. Lip simply nodded and you offered the cigarette back. He took it from between your two fingers and took a long drag.

He looked sad. You assumed that’s why he had even bothered you this late. He knew you’d been working all day and he had always used it as an excuse to keep to himself. But tonight, he seemed to want to see you. You were never going to deny him.

You hadn’t ever denied him anything.

You watched as he blew the smoke out through his nose and you leaned closer, resting your head on his shoulder. He briefly tensed up before relaxing. 

He had gotten so jumpy recently. 

You tried to ignore it.

“What’s up?” You asked after a moment of silence. He offered the cigarette to you but you waved him off. You could feel the nicotine buzzing through your system, not used to the high after nearly a week of not seeing Lip.

“Karen’s got this guy,” Lip said after a moment of silent contemplation, “Jody. Some fuckin’ asshole twice her age,” He explained, waving his free hand out. He then put the cigarette between his lips, breathing in the smoke and speaking as he exhaled, “Hasn’t even fucked her. She says it’s some Sex Addicts Anonymous shit. I don’t get it,” Lip said as he choked slightly on the smoke. You should have known this is where the conversation would go so you simply reached your hand out for the cig.

Lip passed it over without question.

Part of him hated himself for corrupting you. You had never touched a drop of alcohol until he convinced you otherwise. And you had resisted smoking cigarettes until one night a few months back at a party with him. 

You had been pretty drunk at that party and he had casually offered his cigarette to you. He hadn’t thought much of it, expecting you to shake your head and tell him to ‘fuck off’ as you always did. Instead, you had taken it from his fingers, taken a drag and coughed on the smoke. 

But that didn’t stop you from taking another drag.

Now every time he watched the smoke curl out from between your lips, he felt bad. Like he had doomed you to some horrible fate.

“And she said that they’re together and just sit under the stars and talk and shit. I mean, who does that?” He asked. You tried to bite back the reply that that’s exactly what the two of you did but you kept your mouth shut, “We’re teenagers. We’re meant to be fucking each other and doing stupid shit. Not- not watching cartoons and fucking cooking together. It’s- it’s just bullshit,” Lip was frustrated. You could tell and you couldn’t blame him. Not really.

Part of you just felt sorry for him. You knew that he had fallen for Karen but she never really shared those feelings. At least, not that you could tell. She liked him and she liked to fuck him but you were never sure if it was more.

Another part of you was happy she was fucking with Lip’s head. Maybe it made you spiteful but you wanted him to understand how it felt to have someone always keep you at arm’s length.

You tried not to think about that though. 

You were his friend. 

You were there to help him, not celebrate his pain.

“Are you still fucking her?” You asked after a moment. You weren’t entirely sure how to make Lip feel better. You weren’t well-versed in this shit.

He nodded.

“Yeah but it’s this guy. He’s a fucking asshole,” Lip bit back, cigarette hanging from his lips. You rolled your eyes and took the cigarette from between his lips to take a puff yourself. You stayed quiet for a minute, not sure what to say.

“At least you still get to fuck her,” You responded, trying to see the bright side. You wanted to make him feel better, “Clearly if they aren’t even fucking, it doesn’t mean that much. So, give it a few months and she’ll be past him.” The words felt heavy on your tongue, trying to ignore the truth in what you were saying.

Lip had never fucked you and you had always been nothing but a pass-time for him. A friend to cry to and seek comfort from but nothing more. You knew that you didn’t mean that much to Lip. Not as much as Karen anyway.

“Yeah, maybe,” Lip said as he glanced down to watch you blow the smoke from between your lips. You tapped the edge of the cigarette on your thigh, ashes flying through the air just as an El train passed overhead.

It was deafening but the noise gave you some solace. You hadn’t noticed Lip looking at you and so you let yourself feel the heaviness. It was just for a moment and then you put your guard back up.

But for a moment, you let yourself frown. Let yourself feel sad. Feel lonely. Feel fucking stupid.

Then you were back to normal.

Once the train had passed, you spoke again.

“The way I see it, he’s either gonna break up with her or they’re gonna fuck. Either way, she’ll come back to you,” You decided after a moment. You weren’t sure if it was true. You had no experience with relationships. You’d only ever kissed people drunk at parties so you were talking out your ass.

But Lip just hummed along and took the cigarette from between your fingers. He took another drag and then smushed the butt of it against the grass, putting it out.

“Everything okay with you?” Lip asked after a beat of silence. Your head lifted from his shoulder, eyebrows furrowed. You couldn’t remember the last time he’d asked if you were okay. Usually, you told him anyway but he never asked.

“Yeah, why?” You responded, eyebrows knitted together in confusion. He shrugged, meeting your gaze. Your eyes were boring into him and he felt guilty seeing the confusion. The way your eyebrows furrowed at his question as if you weren’t his best friend. As if he didn’t care about you.

“Y’just seem tired, that’s all,” He responded, shrugging. He was trying not to be defensive but it was hard not to be.

“Had a long day, it’s fine,” You retorted as you reached into the top pocket of his shirt. You didn’t ask before you grabbed the pack of cigarettes. Instead, you just plucked a stick out and grabbed his lighter. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” He asked. You looked up at him, a teasing smile on your lips.

“Bumming a smoke,” You stated before you placed the cigarette between your lips. You used your hand to shelter the end of the cig before flicking the lighter on. The bright flame illuminated your face, eyes shining in the light. It was there for a split second before you had successfully lit the cigarette.

“You been smokin’ with someone else?” He asked. You scoffed, dropping the cigarette pack and lighter back into his pocket before you took a drag.

“Fuck off, as if,” You dead-panned as you exhaled. You then took another drag, leaving the cigarette hanging off your lips as you blew the smoke out of your nose. It was Lip’s turn to take the cigarette from your lips now. He made eye contact with you as he took it, placing it between his own.

Fuck. You hated when he did shit like that.

The way he looked at you like he really gave a shit.

You tried not to think about it.

“Good,” He said before he took his own drag. You two sat in silence like that for a while, sharing the cigarette. You knew it was bad for you. You had told yourself you’d never be a smoker but the summer was long and being around Lip was painful. The nicotine made it easier to deal with.

So you just smoked until Lip - once again - put it out in the dirt. He then just stared, another El train passing overhead. You were both quiet for a moment before you sighed. You needed to go home.

“Got work tomorrow,” You muttered after a beat. It was you saying you needed to leave without really saying it at all. But you did, you needed to get out of here.

“Stay at mine tonight?” He asked. You shook your head.

“Gotta leave early, starting at 6. Would just wake you up. You’re grumpy that early,” You stated as you looked up at him. He frowned. You didn’t know what else to say to him and so you just looked at each other for a moment.

“Want you to stay over,” He mumbled, looking away. You ran your hands across your face, wondering if you were really gonna let this happen. But you already knew the answer the second he had asked the question.

“Let me grab my shit,” You gave in. Lip couldn’t help the smirk that spread across his face. It felt like a victory, a small victory. 

[grayhyacinth]

Hey! Can I request a Dipper x reader where reader was actually with Ford in the portal. Like four years before the portal is reopened Ford finds this little girl in a dimension where nothing exists it's just a white void. No time passes, your body doesn't age, just nothing. He found her took her out and she basically became his apprentice. When the portal is reopened Ford isn't quite sure what it is so he tells her not to follow him and he'll check it out. She goes in anyways but ends but coming out of the portal in the basement if the shack four years in the past. So the portal is unfinished and no one's there except Stan in the other side of the glass like "wtf??".

Stand takes in reader and she ends up spending the whole summer with the twins and gets a little crush on Dipper. When he finds the journal and is talking about the author reader doesn't tell him anything she knows because she's like "I could literally destroy the space time continuum, I'm not even suppose to exist in this world". So when Ford finally comes through Dippers like "Why didn't you tell me anything???" And now Dipper has like a bigillion questions for her about the universe.

Mostly fluff if you can!

Sorry if that's like, waaayyyyyy to much backstory and not a lot of an actual prompt but I really like your writing!🩷 Keep up the good work and take care of yourself🩷🩷

Okay so, I had like no idea how to write this. But, I hope you like my attempt! I had a lot of fun envisioning scenes between Dipper and (Y/n), especially when she steals the book. I feel like this could be better written between 3-4 chapters, but a short story is also endearing. I hope you enjoy and thank you for the request! I really appreciate your wishes and support <3!

“A… child?”

You tilt your head in curiosity. This is the first time you've encountered a creature so strikingly similar to yourself. You extend a cautious hand toward him, and then poked his cheek.

The man recoils, pushing you back with surprising force and inching away in the empty white abyss. “Wh– Who are you?!” His voice quivers with fear, but his eyes are resolute, filled with a determination that intrigues you.

You crouch low, mimicking the posture of a wary creature, wide eyes locked onto his. You give a soft, inquisitive chirp, the sound escaping your lips almost instinctively.

“What… are you doing?”

The foreign sounds coming from his mouth are almost incomprehensible to you. So instead of attempting to make sense of his speech, you focus on conveying your intent through gestures and expressions. You raises a hand, palm up, a universal gesture of peace, and then exhale as if to say, “I’m not here to hurt you.”

He seems to understand your intent. His eyes soften with relief.

You notice his body language betrays a lack of hostility. He continues to stare at you, clearly curious upon who or what you were. The cold, combined with the lack of cushioning beneath you, only adds to the sense of unease.

A low rumble interrupts the silence. The man’s stomach growls loudly, and he looks down with a mix of embarrassment and self-consciousness, instinctively hugging his stomach as if to silence it.

You rise unsteadily. With a slight wobble, you began walking towards him, curious as to what that sound was.

“What are you…?” He stammers again, confusion twisting in your chest. The man brushes off your curiosity, poking at his own stomach with a slight frown.

“Stop that!” He snaps, surprising even yourself. The command hangs in the air, making him pause.

For a moment, silence wraps around you both, and you study the contours of his face—strange, yet familiar. You notice the way the light catches in his hair, the softness in his expression.

“Do you want to come with me?” he asks, and the question feels heavy, filled with possibility.

He raises an eyebrow, glancing at you expectantly. You tilt your head, trying to grasp the meaning behind his movements. His hands move again, sweeping wide as if to show you a world beyond the void. He points to himself, then to you, and smiles, nodding as if to say, together. You feel a flutter of intrigue, but confusion lingers in your mind.

“Somewhere that isn’t here,” he replies, a hint of a smile flickering across his lips. “Somewhere with colors, and sounds… and maybe even a bit of adventure.”

You tilt your head, trying to decipher the meaning behind his words. His eyes sparkle, filled with encouragement.

You nod.

His smile widens, and he reaches out, offering his hand. You grasp it, feeling the warmth radiate between you. With a gentle tug, he leads you forward, and the void begins to shimmer. Suddenly, a portal appears and at the other end is a wide horizon of the morning sun. You smile as the warm sun rays hit your skin.

As weeks go by, the man you met introduces himself as Stanford Pines. With each passing day, the bond between you grows stronger, and the initial awkwardness fades into a comfortable routine. Stanford, or Ford as he often prefers to be called, becomes a regular presence in your life.

Ford takes it upon himself to teach you the language of his universe. He is patient and persistent, using simple phrases and gestures to help you grasp the basics. Interestingly enough, he discovers that you lack a name. So he takes it upon himself to name you (Y/n) (L/n).

Each lesson is accompanied with lively stories from his travels across the multiverse. One evening, as the two of you sit by a makeshift fire you’ve managed to start with limited resources, Ford recounts a particularly thrilling tale. His voice takes on a dramatic tone as he describes a showdown with a mischievous entity that could control time itself.

“There we were,” Ford narrates, his hands illustrating the battle in the air, “Locked in a high-stakes chess game with a creature who could manipulate time. Every move we made, every strategy we devised, was countered by the whims of this trickster’s temporal powers. It was like trying to play chess while the board kept shifting!”

You listen with rapt attention, your eyes wide as you imagine the scene he’s painting. Ford’s expressive storytelling brings the experience to life, and you can almost see the strange creature and feel the tension of the game.

As the weeks turn into months, your role evolves from a mere helper to an apprentice in Ford's eyes. Under his guidance, you learn more than just his language; you become versed in the complexities of multiversal travel, and the nuances of interdimensional physics. Ford's teachings go beyond theory; you actively participate in his missions.

It’s during these missions that you begin to understand the true gravity of Ford’s work and the dangers that accompany it. One evening, as you both rest from a particularly challenging excursion, Ford opens up a piece from his past—Bill Cipher.

“Bill Cipher is no ordinary entity,” Ford explains, his tone grave. “He’s a being of pure chaos, a demon who thrives on destruction and disorder. He’s caused havoc across countless worlds, manipulating events and people to his advantage.” He takes a deep breath, a distant look in his eyes. “You have to be careful, (Y/n).”

As the stars gave away to the rays of the morning sun in Universe 323, you awoke to the soft hum of the portal generator filling the room. The familiar sound that usually signified exploration now felt ominous. A swirling vortex of colors began to materialize, casting an eerie, pulsating glow that illuminated the room in shifting hues. The light played across Ford’s face, and the warmth and affection you had grown accustomed to were replaced with a grim frown.

Ford abruptly stood up, his usually calm demeanor replaced with an urgent seriousness that made your heart sink. He turned to you, his expression a stark contrast to the warmth you were used to. “Listen, I… It’s been fun, (Y/n).” His hands grasped your shoulders tightly, his grip firm yet filled with concern. “This portal is almost identical to the one I made back in my universe. But, it could be dangerous. You need to stay here.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but he raised a hand, cutting you off. “No arguments. It’s too risky. I can’t afford to have you put yourself in harm’s way.”

His words were firm, yet the worry in his eyes was unmistakable. You could see how much he cared, how deeply he was troubled by the potential dangers. Despite his insistence, a stubborn resolve settled within you. You had faced countless challenges together, and the thought of being left behind while he ventured into potential danger was unbearable.

“No way, Ford,” you said firmly, shaking your head. “I’m not staying here. Whatever it is, whatever dangers lie ahead, I’m coming with you.”

Ford’s eyes widened in frustration and disbelief. “(Y/n), this isn’t a game. You don’t understand—”

“But I do understand,” you interrupted, stepping closer, your determination unwavering. “I understand that we’re a team. I’ve been with you through thick and thin, and I’m not going to let you face whatever’s out there alone.”

Ford takes a deep breath, and then he steps closer to the portal, the light reflecting off his face in strange, mesmerizing patterns. “Stay here. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He runs head first into the portal, leaving you behind.

You watch with horror as he steps forward, his silhouette dissolving into the swirling portal. The vortex’s colors shift and warp, pulling him into its depths. As the portal’s edge begins to close, you make a split-second decision.

With your heart pounding in your chest, you dart toward the portal. You hesitate only briefly, watching as the portal’s edges start to shrink. You can’t bear the thought of being left behind while Ford faces unknown dangers alone. Summoning every ounce of courage, you leap forward just as the portal starts to close.

In a rush of cold air and blinding light, you are pulled into the vortex. The world around you blurs into a whirl of colors and sensations. The portal swirls and twists, the reality bending and folding as you travel through the fabric of dimensions.

Suddenly, you find yourself stumbling onto solid ground, the portal closing behind you with a final, shimmering snap. You look around, disoriented.

As you regain your bearings, you find yourself in a basement. The room is dimly lit, with a musty smell of old wood and a clutter of odd contraptions. You glance around, trying to make sense of your surroundings. The walls are bare, and the floor is covered with intricate wires that lead to a fallen portal. A large glass-paneled door catches your eye, covered in grime but revealing a faint outline of movement on the other side.

You hear a muffled voice and a rustling sound from beyond the glass. Curiosity piqued, you move closer, wiping some of the dust away to get a better view. As the glass clears, you see a young man in his late teens on the other side, his face a picture of bewilderment and curiosity. He looks familiar, almost like… Ford?

“What the—?” The identical twin’s voice is muffled but clear, full of confusion. “Who are you?”

You open your mouth to respond, but the words get caught in your throat. This is a significant moment, and you can’t quite believe your situation. His gaze is locked on you, and he looks ready to bolt.

You raise your hands in a gesture of peace, trying to convey that you mean no harm. “I’m—”

“Hold on, who are you and where’s Poindexter?!” Stanley interrupts, his eyes darting around.

You hesitate, trying to figure out the best way to explain your presence. “Uh… Hi,” you begin, raising your hands in a calming gesture. “My name is (Y/n) (L/n), and I came in through that… portal.” You glance behind you and point to the triangle contraption.

He blinks, his confusion deepening as he studies the portal and then looks back at you. “No. That doesn’t make sense. I just… flicked a switch and my brother was suppose to come through. Not some… child?!”

You glance at the chaotic mess of wires and blinking lights surrounding the portal, noting the flaws that must have caused this unexpected shift in reality. “I think something went wrong,” you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Stanley’s eyes narrow. “What do you mean, ‘something went wrong’? You don’t even know what you’re doing here!” His tone is sharper, but beneath the surface, you can sense a flicker of worry.

You take a cautious step forward, keeping your hands raised to ease the tension. “I just… came through. I didn’t choose this.” You point back at the portal again, hoping he’ll see that you’re just as confused as he is. “I’m not… him, but maybe I’m connected to him somehow. I can help you figure this out.”

The identical twin’s skepticism is evident, but curiosity seems to win out. “Alright, let’s say I believe you’re not here to cause trouble. How are you going to help me?”

You take a deep breath, carefully choosing your words. “The portal, as you can see, is unstable. I need to fix it and recalibrate it so I can get back to where I came from. But to do that, I need some tools and parts—and a place to stay for the time being…”

You spot a familiar journal with six fingers and decide to use it to your advantage. ”That journal over there, for example—it looks like it could be significant.”

His eyes follow your gaze, and he approaches the journal with caution. “That’s my brother’s old journal. He’s got a bunch of weird notes and sketches in there.”

As he opens the journal, you can see the pages filled with cryptic notes and strange symbols. Your heart races, but you maintain your composure. This is your chance to gather information and possibly find a way back to your own time.

“Well,” He mumbles, “I guess I can show you around and see if we can find what you’re looking for. But remember, if you’re here on some wild goose chase, you’re going to have to explain yourself.”

You nod, relieved to have gained his trust, at least for now. “I understand. Thank you for your help.”

Four years have flown by in the blink of an eye. You’re now twelve years old, teetering on the brink of adolescence, and life at the Mystery Shack has become a second home. The young man who once introduced himself as Stanley Pines has taken on the identity of Stanford Pines—his brother’s name. Though you still call him Stanford, you’ve grown to understand the complexities of his dual life. Ford, the man you originally met, is still trapped somewhere in the multiverse, but you’re confident that your understanding of his research will eventually lead you to him.

The summer sun casts a warm glow over the Mystery Shack, and the air is filled with the usual hum of activity. You’re busy organizing some of the newer additions to the shop’s odd collection when the sound of laughter and excited voices reaches your ears. You look up and see a young boy and girl standing at the entrance, their faces lit with curiosity and excitement.

Stanford had an arm wrapped around each of their shoulders. “(Y/n)! I’d like for you to meet my great niece and nephew”

The young girl, with her bright purple sweater and an exuberant smile, bounces on her toes. “Hi! I’m Mabel, and this is my brother, Dipper. We’re here for the summer!”

The boy, slightly more reserved but with an inquisitive gaze, gives a polite nod. “I’m Dipper. We heard a lot about this place and thought we’d check it out.”

You watch from a distance, noting the genuine curiosity in their eyes. Mabel’s enthusiasm is infectious, and Dipper’s serious demeanor suggests a keen interest in the mysteries of the Shack.

Stanford’s eyes twinkle with amusement. “Well, you’ve come to the right place! The Shack is full of oddities and secrets. How about a tour?”

As Stanford leads them around, you decide to introduce yourself, keen to make a good impression. You approach with a friendly wave. “Hi there! I’m (Y/n). I help out around here.”

Mabel’s eyes widened with interest. “Nice to meet you, (Y/n)! What’s your favorite part of the Shack?”

You think for a moment, remembering all the strange moments. “It’s hard to pick just one thing. But I’d say the most interesting part was the time Stanford tried to use a gadget from a TV ad to make his hair grow back? Let’s just say it ended up giving him a ‘special’ new look—like he was auditioning for a role in a Bigfoot documentary!”

Dipper chuckles lightly, his  eyes wide with curiosity. “What did you look like?”

You laugh, trying to contain your amusement. “Let’s just say, for a while there, Stanford had enough hair to start his own wig-making business. It was like someone mixed a Sasquatch with a tumbleweed.”

Stanford, catching your comment, coughs awkwardly and blushes slightly. He quickly grabs Mabel and Dipper by their shoulders and steers them out of the gift shop and through the door leading into the main part of the house. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Now, let’s get back to showing you the real wonders of the Shack.”

As he leads the twins away, Stanford turns back towards you and shoots you a look, his two fingers making a playful pointing gesture. “And remember, no more jokes unless you want to end up as the next mess cleanup crew.”

Just like that, the entertaining summer began. You never thought you’d get attach to these people, but, it seems like they were slowly wiggling their way into your heart. It was then, during one lazy afternoon at the Mystery Shack, with the sun streaming through the windows, casting warm, golden rays across the cozy living room. Stanford was busy showing off some new exhibits to illicit cash from naive tourists, and Mabel had disappeared into one of her craft projects, leaving you and Dipper to your own activities.

You were lounging on the old, well-worn couch, flipping through a magazine. Dipper, on the other hand, was on the floor, surrounded by a mountain of books and notes. He had a stack of papers in front of him.

“Hey, Dipper,” you said softly, setting the magazine aside and stretching your arms above your head. “You look like you’re about to solve the mysteries of the universe over there.”

After a while, Dipper looked up and noticed you watching him. He sighed, rubbing his eyes before speaking. “Yeah, I might be trying to do just that. Do you think you could help me out with something? I’m trying to figure out this ancient code, and I could use a second set of eyes.”

You smiled and joined him on the floor, settling beside him. As you turned your attention to the sprawled-out notes and journal, you couldn’t help but notice the dark bags under his eyes and the ink stains on the side of his hand. “Rough night?”

Dipper gave a sheepish grin. “You could say that. I’ve been at this for hours…”

You glanced at the ancient code, then at Dipper. “ Is this important enough to look like a zombie? I’m starting to think the real mystery is how you manage to stay awake with those bags under your eyes.”

Dipper rolled his eyes, but the corners of his mouth twitched in amusement. “Okay, okay, I get it! Maybe I should take a break… but only if you help me crack this code first!”

As you both leaned over the papers, you felt Dipper’s soft hair gently brush against your head. The scent of pine trees filled your senses. It was a subtle, intimate moment, and you couldn’t help but feel a warm flutter in your chest.

Dipper, oblivious to the effect he was having, was intently focused on the notes. He occasionally mumbled to himself, his brow furrowed in concentration. “If we align these symbols with the constellation map from the journal...”

You glanced at the stack of papers and noticed one of the journals—Journal 3. The sight made you freeze momentarily, as you recognized it from the work you had been doing to repair the portal. You realized that Dipper was working on a section related to the portal.

A sinking feeling washed over you. If you helped him decode the ancient symbols, it could potentially disrupt the space-time continuum, especially since you technically weren’t supposed to exist or intervene in this timeline.

You blink.

Suddenly struck with the idea that perhaps he could use a break to clear his mind. “Hey, Dipper,” you said softly, nudging him out of his intense focus. “We’ve been at this for a while. How about we take a break and do something fun? You know, just to clear our heads?”

Dipper looked up, surprised but visibly relieved. “A break? I guess that sounds like a good idea. I could use a breather.”

You smiled, feeling a bit adventurous. “Great! I was thinking we could go grab some ice cream. It’s a beautiful day outside, and I think it’d be nice to get some fresh air.”

Dipper’s eyes brightened, and he quickly started to gather up the notes and close the journal. “Umm.. okay. Ice cream sounds awesome.”

The walk to the nearby ice cream stand was filled with easy conversation and laughter. The sun-kissed air and the lively chatter of the small town around you created a relaxed, almost date-like atmosphere.

“I can’t resist,” you said, grinning. “I’m getting the triple scoop sundae.”

Dipper chuckled, his usual enthusiasm for adventure replaced with a casual ease. “Sounds like a plan. I’ll just get a cone. Can’t go wrong with classic vanilla.”

You waited while the vendor scooped your sundae, and then you both settled on a nearby bench. You took a bite of your ice cream, letting the rich, cold flavor melt on your tongue.

“Want a taste?” you asked, holding out the spoon to Dipper, who was licking his cone with a satisfied smile.

He hesitated, looking at the spoon as if it were some kind of test. “Uh, sure. I guess I could try some.”

You watched as he nervously leaned closer, his cheeks turning a shade of pink that matched the evening sky. He took a tiny lick, his eyes widening slightly at the burst of flavor.

“Not bad,” he admitted. A hint of pink highlights his cheeks.

A playful idea crossed your mind. You grinned, extending the spoon further toward him. “How about you give it a proper taste?”

Dipper’s face turned even redder in surprise and embarrassment. “You want me to…?” His voice was barely above a whisper.

You nodded, trying to suppress a giggle. “Yeah, go ahead. It’s just ice cream.”

He took a deep breath, his gaze dropping to the spoon, then back up to you. With a shy but determined look, he finally leaned in and gently took the spoon into his mouth. His lips brushed against the spoon, and you noticed the way his eyes fluttered shut for a split second, savoring the taste.

As he pulled back, he looked up at you, his nervous expression seeming a bit more relaxed in relief. “That’s actually really good,” he said, managing a small, shy smile.

You chuckled, the playful moment filling you with a warm, fuzzy feeling. But as you watched him, something else bubbled up inside you. It wasn’t just the sweetness of the ice cream that made your heart race—it was the way Dipper had looked at you.

Realization dawned on you. The way he smiled, the blush on his cheeks, and the way he seemed so genuine and kind—it all made you feel something deeper than just friendship. You liked him. Maybe more than just a little.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady the flutter in your chest. “I’m glad you liked it,” you said softly, trying to sound nonchalant.

Dipper’s eyes met yours, and for a brief, electric moment, it felt like you were both on the edge of something new and exciting. “Thanks for sharing,” he said, his voice almost a whisper.

This little moment shared between the two of you, became something you cherished deeply. Every time you hung out with Dipper, after this, you’d find ways to spend more time with him. Even as he began to idolize a special author close to his heart.

A couple weeks later, the Mystery Shack was quieter than usual, the kind of quiet that made every creak and rustle seem louder than it really was. Dipper was in the backyard, engrossed in a game with Mabel and Waddles. You, however, had a different plan in mind.

You’d noticed Dipper’s Journal 3 resting on the coffee table in the living room earlier—a tantalizing opportunity to steal it for yourself. You were almost done. You were so close to reuniting Stanford and Stanley, hopefully even introducing Stanford to Dipper. You just needed this last book.

Moving quietly, you crept towards the table, careful not to make a sound. Your heart raced with excitement as you reached out and gently lifted the journal. It was heavier than you expected, filled with the weight of countless adventures and Dipper’s personal notes.

Just as you were about to retreat with your prize, you heard a faint rustle. Dipper’s head poked through the open window, his eyes scanning the room. You froze, hiding the journal behind your back and holding your breath.

Dipper’s gaze landed on the coffee table, then slowly shifted around the room. “Hey, have you seen my journal? I could have sworn I left it here…”

You bit your lip, trying to suppress a smile. “I haven’t seen it. Maybe you left it upstairs with the other stuff?”

Dipper looked skeptical but nodded, stepping inside.in that split second, you knew you had to act. You shuffled to the couch, tucking the journal away behind the cushions.

The moment he entered the room. His eyes wandered around the room, coming closer to where you were standing. You shifted slightly, trying to stay out of his line of sight. Every step he took, closer to you, you’d shuffle away. Your hands were tucked suspiciously behind you.

Your movements were far from graceful, and the effort made you giggle.

Dipper eyed you cautiously. “What’s so funny?” he asked, a mischievous glint in his eye.

You tried to maintain your composure, but your voice wavered. “Nothing, nothing,” you managed to say, your smile widening despite your best efforts.

Dipper tilted his head in curiosity. “I’m going to find it,” he declared with a playful smirk, taking a few steps closer. The soft glow of the room’s light cast a warm hue on his cheeks, making his blush even more endearing.

Suddenly, he reached behind you, and you felt his fingers brush against yours as he grabbed your empty hands. The touch was brief but electric, sending a shiver up your spine. In the sudden motion, you stumbled, causing Dipper to lose his balance.

He tripped over your feet and went crashing to the ground, landing on top of you with a surprised yelp.

As you lay there, with Dipper on top of you, the room seemed to swirl around in a hazy mix of laughter and warmth. Dipper’s surprised yelp melted into an awkward chuckle, and his cheeks turned a delightful shade of pink. You found yourself caught between bursts of laughter and the sweet fluttering in your chest.

Dipper tried to push himself up, but his hands were still resting on your sides, and every movement only further tangled up your limbs together. His face was inches from yours, and you could see the twinkle of amusement in his eyes, as well as the genuine concern. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice softer now.

You nodded, your laughter subsiding into a gentle smile. “I’m fine. Are you?” you teased.

He met your gaze, his eyes lingering on yours. There was a moment of silence, a suspended breath where the world outside seemed to pause. “Yeah, I’m good,” he replied, his tone laced with an affectionate warmth. “Hey, (Y/n)—”

The sound of voices and clumsy footsteps grew louder. Suddenly, Mabel and Waddles burst into the room, their energy a stark contrast to the cozy moment you had just shared.

“Dipper, Dipper!” Mabel called out excitedly. “Waddles and I are ready for the next round of our game! We need you out here!”

Waddles squealed happily, adding to the commotion. Dipper glanced at you, reluctance in his eyes. “Looks like I’m being summoned,” he said, chuckling as Mabel and Waddles dragged him towards the door.

“Don’t be long!” Mabel called over her shoulder, already heading back outside with Waddles trotting beside her. “We’ve got a big adventure planned!”

Dipper gave you a final, playful smile before being pulled out into the backyard. As the door closed behind them, you were left alone in the quiet room once more.

You took a deep breath, savoring the peaceful moment. It was go time. With the coast clear, you hurriedly moved back to the couch where you had hidden the journal. Your heart raced as you reached under the cushion and retrieved the book,

Carefully, you made your way to the basement, cradling the journal close. The soft thud of your footsteps was the only sound as you entered your sanctuary. With a mixture of triumph and nervous excitement, you placed the journal on your desk, feeling a surge of satisfaction.

Settling into your chair, you opened the journal, ready to dive into its pages. The room was quiet, the only light coming from the soft glow of your lamp. As you began to read, you felt a sense of contentment and anticipation. You were close, so close.

The room's tranquility was abruptly shattered by the sound of loud, frantic yelling coming from upstairs. You jumped, the journal nearly slipping from your grasp. Before you could process what was happening, Stanley burst into the room, his face pale and drawn, breath ragged as if he'd been running for miles.

"(Y/n)!" he shouted, his voice urgent and tinged with panic. "Kid, look. I need you to hurry up. They’re here."

Confusion flashed across your face as you looked up at him. "Who’s here?" you asked, your heart racing at the sudden shift in the atmosphere.

Grunkle Stan, usually so composed and gruff, now looked anything but. He clumsily raised his hands in the air, waving them wildly as if trying to shoo away an invisible threat. "The government! We’ve got to move fast if we want to bring back Poindexter!"

Your mind whirled, struggling to catch up with the gravity of the situation. You nodded grimly, setting the journal down on your desk with a quick, deliberate motion. "Okay, alright. Fine."

You began to scribble hurriedly onto a separate note, crunching the numbers and double-checking every task to make sure it all aligned. Stan had already dashed back upstairs, possibly to help stall for time before any raids happened.

Time passed quickly, and you found yourself pacing back and forth among cables and wires, blackboards covered in equations, and strewn papers scattered everywhere, scrambling to find your missing pencils. The numbers weren’t adding up; something was missing. You sprinted back to the battery that powered the portal. Attached to it was a large generator, and you tapped against the glass of the fuel gauge. The little pointer trembled up and then dropped down again, and a sinking feeling settled into the pit of your stomach.

Once again, the sounds of heavy footsteps echoed down the stairs. “How’s it going in here? Are we ready to go?” Stan called out, his voice slightly out of breath. He seemed to have tucked the twins into bed and was prepared to finish this.

You turned around, giving him one long, grave look. “Yeah…” You swallowed thickly. “But we only have one shot at this.”

“Of course we do. With the government knocking at our front door, we need to do this right.” Stan waved a dismissive hand, seemingly unaware of your trembling fingers. He walked toward the monitors and desk, pulling out the swivel chair and sitting down with a huff. He began flicking everything on.

The sounds of beeping and swirling energy filled the room. The light blue hue from the portal illuminated everything, casting eerie shadows that danced along the walls. Suddenly, gravity shifted, and objects began to float slowly upward. The floor shook beneath you, a deep rumble vibrating through the air.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what was to come. You and Stan walked toward the portal, standing directly under the imposing structure. You glanced at him. “Are you ready to bring your brother back home?”

He met your gaze, a grin spreading across his face. “Absolutely! Are you ready to go home?”

You hesitated, the weight of your emotions pressing down on you. “I…”

Suddenly, Dipper and Mabel appeared behind you, their voices raised in alarm. “Stop! You have to explain what’s going on!” Mabel shouted, her eyes wide with concern, while Dipper looked equally frantic.

You turned, caught off guard. “Guys, we’re trying to save—”

“Save who?” Dipper interjected, stepping forward. “What’s happening?”

Stan interjected, urgency ringing in his voice. “Listen, kids. I’m sorry for not telling you this sooner—”

Just then, the portal began to tremble violently, and suddenly, you all felt yourselves lifting off the ground, floating upward toward the ceiling. It was almost time.

“Mabel! Stop the portal!” Dipper yelled at his sister, scrambling to reach something secure on the floor.

Mabel was gripping your hand for dear life, her eyes wide with fear, while you clutched onto the edge of the desk, trying to steady yourself amidst the chaos. “What do I do?!” she shouted, her voice strained against the growing hum of the portal.

“Press the red button!”

You and Stan both shouted in unison. “No! Mabel, please!”

Mabel’s eyes darted between the portal and the control panel, uncertainty flooding her face. “But —”

“Kids, look!” Stan’s voice was laced with desperation, the lines of age etched deeper into his features. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you some things in the past. I tried to tell you guys! But I just couldn’t.” His lips trembled as he continued, “I’ll tell you everything once all of this is over. Just please trust me!”

“Don’t listen to him!” Dipper urged, his voice rising above the chaotic hum of the portal. “We can’t lose this chance!”

“Dipper! Please!” You turned your attention to him, feeling your heart race. “I know that Stan and I seem suspicious right now, but you have to understand—we have to do this!”

Dipper shook his head, frustration mingling with concern. “Shut up!” He huffs out. “We can’t blindly trust you or Stan after everything!”

Mabel looked between you and Dipper, her expression filled with uncertainty. “What do I do, Dipper?”

You look at her, and say, “You know us, Mabel. You can trust us!”

“It’s like I don’t even know you guys anymore! Who even are you, Grunkle Stan… and you…” Mabel’s voice trembled as she looked at you, tears brimming in her eyes. She shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut. “I trusted you, (Y/n).”

You glanced at Dipper, and even he had tears streaming down his face. He looked at you as if you were a foreign enemy, and your heart sank under the weight of his feelings.

The seconds ticked down, and Mabel’s hesitation cost her the chance to press the glowing red button. Suddenly, gravity returned with a jolt, and you all crashed to the floor, the impact knocking the breath from your lungs.

As you tried to gather your thoughts, a man stepped out of the blue portal. He was imposing, holding a gun in one hand, dressed in a heavy trench coat that billowed slightly with the portal’s energy. A set of dark glasses sat high upon his nose, obscuring his eyes, but the air of authority around him was intimidating.

You could recognize him anywhere. Stan beat you to it, rushing forward and knocking you aside as he enveloped his brother, Stanford, in a fierce hug. “Ford! You’re back!” he exclaimed, relief washing over him.

But Ford, clearly not in the mood for celebrations, slapped Stan’s face away and yelled, “What were you thinking, Stan? Activating the portal like that could endanger all of humanity!”

While the brothers engaged in a heated argument, you stumbled to your feet and stepped forward, your heart racing at the sight of the man who had taught you so much. “Ford!” you called out, trying to break through the tension.

He turned, his expression softening slightly as he saw you. “(Y/n)!” Ford said, his voice a mix of surprise and warmth. “I’m glad to see you, but this isn’t the time—”

“I know, I know,” you interrupted, feeling the weight of everything that had just happened. “But we need your help. The government is here, and they want to take us in. We were trying to bring you back safely, but now it’s all gone sideways!”

The twins follow behind you, Dipper brushes against your arm, but his gaze is on the the identical twin of who he thought was Stanford Pines. “Who… are you?”

“Ford!” Stan rushes over and squeezes the kids by their shoulders. “These two are our great niece and nephews! Meet Dipper and Mabel.”

The twins followed closely behind you, and as you moved, Dipper brushed against your arm. His gaze was fixed on the man standing before them, who looked strikingly like the Stanford they had come to know. “Who… are you?” he asked, confusion evident in his voice.

“Ford!” Stan rushed over, squeezing the kids by their shoulders with a grin. “These two are our great niece and nephew! Meet Dipper and Mabel.”

The real Ford raised an eyebrow, taking a moment to absorb the introduction. “Kids…?” He raises an arm out to shake hands with them.

Mabel, her initial shock wearing off, smiled brightly. She shakes hands first. “You look just like Grunkle Stan! But way cooler!” She giggled, her infectious energy breaking some of the tension.

Dipper reaches out, still skeptical. “What’s going on here?” He then glances down at his fingers and notices that there’s six of them. “You’re… the author?! No way!”

You giggle, pleased by his surprise reaction. “Stanford was my mentor in the past. I knew you’d be excited to see him.”

Dipper looks at you, then Stanford and then back to you. “I totally do not trust you at all anymore. But I have so many questions I want to ask!”

Your heart sank at Dipper's words, the weight of his distrust settling heavily in your chest. You’d worked hard to earn his trust, and now it felt like it was slipping away. “I understand,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I just wanted to help.”

His expression softening slightly. “Okay, I’m willing to get to know you again. But promise me, no more secrets? You also have to answer all the questions I have!”

Your heart lifted a little at his willingness to try again. “I’d be happy to share,” you said, grateful for the opportunity. You reached out to grab his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

As you all moved forward, Dipper turned to you, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “So, first question: Did the crush you have on me fake, or real?”

You blink. “My… what?!”

[magnetic-regent-magneto]

Me, reading the Scarlet Witch (2023) comic: Oh this seems nice. PIETRO IS HERE!

Me: Oh no what have you done-

I was so mad about this and I don't think anyone will ever understand why. But I was about to punch a wall. Nine pages in and this book made me question it all again even though it seems so cool. I am glad for Wanda fans! but why was this necessary? But I am also SO glad to see my boy. I love him sm.

[fatedroses]

That one teacher/mentor moment and Zenos feeling embarrassed for the first time in years (and reacting just about as well as you'd expect him to).

[arrowsperpetualcringe]

They don't wanna go back.

[toastsnaffler]

tummy hurts my final message goodbye

[brewing-mischief]

I want to read a fanfiction where Damien as a college kid faces the realization that you know what-growing up in the league was actually pretty bad. Like yeah, he had to murder his cousins in a death battle for the right to be the heir and he went on missions as young as four BUT ALSO dressing up and being a vigilante was NOT the most normal thing ever.

Look sure, it was all consensual-he wanted to be Robin. But now looking back as an adult he kind of has this moment of clarity where hes like "That...wasnt normal." And like SURE he knew that. Of course he knew that. He knew his family was different from the other kids he went to school with, obviously. But it just sort of hits him that you know what. Taking a kid exploited to be a murderer from an underground organization and then have him use his training to be a mini-cop (I'm sorry, vigilante.) Was like...really weird.

That's like taking a foster kid from an underground fighting ring or a brainwashed cult and then letting them still use their previous weapons and knowledge to fight people YOU consider 'allowed'.

Like-he helped SO many people. SO MANY. And he doesnt regret any of that. But also WHAT THE-???

I want to see Damien wake up for just a split second and just be like 'I agree given my attitude this method actually worked for me and my recovery but also-what the @*&$% Bruce?'

An mabye-as a treat- he shares this realization with one of the other Bats and they look at him like "yeah duh" and "why did you THINK we were all a little weirded out by you when you showed up and got to be robin ASAP"

And Damien gets a minute to go "oh."

[kbwrites]

Found Family

synopsis: Yuji was so seamlessly integrated into your lives, a ball of sunshine in your normally quiet life. How will he react to the news that you're expecting?

⚝content: Nanami x f! reader, Yuji being your adopted son basically, a tiny bit of angst, mostly fluff, found family.

⚝wc: 1.5k

The Nanami household was usually quiet, and peaceful. Light jazz music filled the rooms, the soft notes from the record player gently floated through the air. Every detail in the house had been carefully considered, a home where Kento hoped they could build a life filled with love and serenity.

The serenity, however, was often interrupted by his pink-haired cohort.

“Seconds please (Y/N)!” Yuji beamed holding up a clean plate with a wide grin.

Kento, seated at the table with his usual composed expression, felt a warmth in his chest as we watched his dear wife and Yuji. He secretly cherished these moments, finding comfort in the young man’s lively presence. The way his laughter filled the room, the way his energy brought a spark of joy to the quiet corners—it all made Kento realize just how much he had come to love having Yuji around.

“Itadori, you’ll get sick if you eat so fast.” Kento scolds gently, earning a pout from the high schooler. You can only smile apologetically as your husband maintains his serious demeanor.

“Kento…” You chide. “Yuji’s a growing boy, he needs to eat~” You wink at Yuji as he digs into his second helping.

You were always so quick to defend the younger boy from your husband. And although it would earn a disapproving sigh, Kento couldn’t help but adore you more for it. The way you cared for Yuji as if he were you own. This was the life he had always hoped for—a beautiful home…you. It was an unspeakable joy that made every day worth living.

And the best part? The little family you had built was about to get a bit bigger.

You glance over at your husband, wondering if you should be the one to break the news to Yuji. He returns your gaze with a small smile before clearing his throat.

“Yuji,” Kento began, his voice steady. “We have… something to tell you.”

Yuji looked up from his plate, his mouth full but curiosity shining in his eyes. You reached for Kento’s hand under the table, giving it a gentle squeeze as you shared a tender smile. The moment felt perfect, filled with the quiet anticipation of the next chapter of your lives—one that would bring even more joy and love into your growing family.

You took a deep breath, stilling your nerves. Yuji would be the first one outside of yourselves to find out.

“Yuji… I’m… we’re–”

“Pregnant.” You finish, the proverbial weight being lifted off your shoulders. You take in a breath as you look at Yuji, waiting for him to process the information.

He swallows, gaze flicking between you and Kento. He uncharacteristically… quiet. You could see the wheels turning, his mouth slightly agape.

Kento’s brow furrowed slightly, unsure of how to interpret the silence. He had expected Yuji to be excited—overjoyed. Jumping up immediately and grabbing you into a tight hug, at which point Kento would scold him again, reiterating that he would need to “Be more gentle… (Y/N) is pregnant.” He exchanged a concerned glance with you, searching for some understanding.

Yuji cleared his throat, voice softer than usual. “That’s..” He takes a breath, flashing his signature smile, however it didn’t quite reach his eyes as it normally did. “Amazing. I’m…really happy for you guys!”

You reach out, offering a comforting smile. “We wanted you to be the first to know.” 

The dinner continued, but the lively atmosphere had dimmed. The excitement that had filled the room was now replaced by a more subdued mood. Yuji picked at his food, his usual quips and jokes conspicuously absent. The lively energy that normally accompanied his presence was replaced by a contemplative silence.

Kento cleared his throat after a few moments, trying to shift the focus and bring some warmth back to the table. “Do you have any plans for the weekend? Maybe we could all do something together.”

The pink-haired teen looked up, blinking as he found himself again in his lost thoughts. “I think I’ll be busy with training.” He replies, not quite making eye contact with either of you.

You spoke up, intent on breaking through the walls. “You’ll be staying over tonight though?” 

Kento had bought a house with four bedrooms, partially because he wanted to be prepared for any children you’d agree to give him. But also because he was tired of Yuji sleeping on the couch when he visited your old place. He was given a room, furnished with some of his essentials. Kento made it very clear that Yuji always had a place there.

But instead of the usual eagerness to sleepover—he hesitates.

“I’m not sure–”

“Yuji. It’s late. Just stay here.” His voice soft but firm, leaving no room for argument.

You leave the bathroom, rubbing the last bit of cream into your skin. The soft glow of the bedside lamp illuminated the room as you saw Kento sitting on the edge of the bed, lost in thought.

“Something on your mind honey?” You question taking a seat next to him, already knowing the answer.

Kento looked up, his honey-brown eyes reflected in the gentle light of the lamp. “Yuji didn’t seem… happy about the news tonight.” 

You reached out to your husband, placing a hand on his knee “He was probably just caught off guard Ken. It’s a big change, give him some time.”

He sighed, fingers absentmindedly brushing against yours. “I thought he’d be excited. I thought—”

You leaned closer, resting your head on his broad shoulder. Kento wrapped an arm around you, pulling you to him. The warmth of his embrace filling you with a silent reassurance. He glances down at you.

“Dear… could you…” His voice trailed off, a subtle hint of hesitation in his words. You already knew what he was going to ask. After all, Kento’s bedside manner wasn’t exactly what made you fall for him. You just nod at him, before standing up and leaving the room.

Knock Knock.

You wait outside Yuji’s room before you hear him say “Come in.” 

You pushed the door open slowly, taking in the space. It was so uniquely Yuji, posters of his favorite actresses (that Kento would most definitely disapprove of). Beside them, a few shelves were crammed with manga volumes and action figures, the game console he loved to play with game discs littering the floor by the TV. And right by his bed, a picture of the three of you on vacation last year. Taken right after you both pushed Kento into the pool. It was his room. Without a doubt.

He was sitting on the edge of the bed, his posture slumped, gaze fixed on the floor. You approached him, sitting down on the bed. He looked up, his eyes reflecting unease and weariness.

“Hey, Yuji.” Your voice as soft as a feather. “Can we talk?”

“(Y/N). It’s not that I’m not happy for you and Nanamin. It's just—” He takes a shaky breath. Your gaze softens, waiting patiently as he tries to find the words to express his feelings.

“It’s just,” his voice breaking slightly. “I… love it here. You and Nanamin are like my family. And now you’ll have a kid. A real kid. I’m just worried I won’t have a place here anymore...”

The vulnerability in his words was palpable, the pink-haired teen looked down again, his fingers nervously twisting the edge of his blanket. He took a deep breath, you take one too. 

You gently squeezed his shoulder and stood up, motioning for him to stay put. You left the room briefly, walking down the hallway to where Kento had left the bedroom to wait. He looked up as you approached, his expression a mixture of concern and curiosity. You took his hand, leading him to the room.

As you entered, you guided Kento to stand beside Yuji. Yuji looked up at him with a mixture of apprehension. The older male took a deep breath, his usual composed demeanor much softer.

“Yuji. You will Always have a place here.”

Yuji’s head snapped up, surprise evident in his eyes. 

“I know that and I—”

“No. You will always have a place here because you are family.”

The room seemed to exhale collectively, the tension lifting as Yuji’s eyes widened with a mix of disbelief and relief.

“(Y/N) is going to need all of our help, our baby will need all of our help. We need you Yuji. Our family wouldn't be complete without you.” Kento’s hand reaches out, resting on Yuji’s shoulder. 

Yuji’s eyes glistened as the reality of Kento’s words sank in. The years of feeling like an outsider, of worrying about his place in the world. Finally finding his family. Without a word, he stands up drawing you both into a tight embrace.

“Thank you… (Y/N). Nanamin. I’ll be the best big brother ever, or uncle? I’m not sure but I’m here. Whatever you need.”

In that embrace, the uncertainty began to melt away, replaced by a deep sense of belonging and love. The family you were building together, with all its changes and challenges, felt more united than ever.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Imagine going on adventures with Logan and Deadpool and you’re the voice of reason behind them 😆 Deapool the idiot with hot headed Wolverine that reader has to keep in check all the time

It’s not easy being the only person with common sense in this rag tag trio of yours.

^^ this is literally you babysitting two grown ass men that need to be kept on leashes and separated from one another in case they fight, again.

You are overworked and underpaid to be dealing with this shit, but there was no one else who had the patience for Wade nor the compassion and empathy for Logan as you did.

So unfortunately you were stuck with them for every mission given but despite how vastly different and incompatible some of you were -*cough* Logan and Wade *cough*- you three worked well enough together that you were a force to be reckoned with.

You were forced to face situations where wade would be pissing Logan off to the point his claws were out, and you had to pat the rugged man on his shoulder, wait for him to look at you as you pointed towards his claws;

‘Them. Away. Now.’ -you.

Wolverine: *grunts*

You: don’t give me attitude, put. them. away. Now.

Wade: ohhh Logan’s in trouble!

You would then look at Wade before pointing at him like a disappointed parent: and you, stop pissing him off if you like to keep your dick where it is! Or so help god me I’ll cut it off myself!

Wade: 😶

Wolverine: *smirks and puts the claws away*

You were their voice of reason, their angel on their shoulder, their peace keeper and confidant and they respect you for keeping up with their shit. However it wouldn’t be much like Logan and Wade to make your life easy as you often had to stand between the two as a barrier of sorts to keep them from killing each other.

When in actuality they are flipping each other off behind your back and it wasn’t until Logan slapped wades hand away, causing him to say ‘ow’ did you look between the two of them as they acted like they weren’t acting like children a few moments ago.

You: I’m so sorry you’ll have to excuse them.

*Meanwhile Wade and Logan fighting, stabbing each other in the balls in the background*

You: WOULD YOU TWO STOP FUCKING FIGHTING FOR FIVE MINUTES!!!

Wade and Logan; *immediately stop and point at each other* he started it!

They were the reason you had grey hairs at an early age you swore this to anyone who’d listen. They were a pain in your ass, thorn in your side and a headache waiting to happen but the moment you were threatened, Wade and Logan put aside their differences and acted accordingly by standing protectively in front of you.

Logan: I would shut the fuck up if I were you bub.

Wade: oh look what you did, you made daddy angry.

Logan and you looking at Wade: 🤨😐

You: can you not make everything into a sex joke?

Wade, booping you on the nose; it comes with the territory peanut.

Logan: be serious for fucking once, they’ve just got threatened!

Wade: you don’t think I want our pookie to get hurt? (why do I think he’d say pookie unironically)

You: kill me now and end my misery. Please someone, anyone. Preferably pyro. (He’s hot, literally and figuratively)

Being stuck with Logan and wolverine is a curse and a blessing at the same time, which one you want to focus on more is up to you. However you three were incredibly loyal to each other, even if you do piss each other off from time to time, but you’d never betray one another for it wasn’t an option.

You were stuck with these two whether you liked it or not.

[eraenaa]

Silent Passions

Aemond Targaryen x Tyrell Reader Tag List

Synopsis: You and Aemond had been promised to one another before you were even born. And when the time came for you to meet, all were curious to see what was to come when soon to be spouses only shared one thing in common: your want of silence. 

Warnings: Unwanted sexual advances from Daemon Targaryen, ¿Softer Aemond?, Jealousy, Mature, 18+, P in V Sex, Not Proof Read

Word Count: 8,678 (bear with me pls)

A/N: Based on a request where they wanted "Aemond x Tyrell Reader (which has the personality of Francesca Bridgerton), and when they are about to get married, Daemon tries to seduce her, making Aemond distrust her."

A flower promised to a dragon. Long before you were born, you, a daughter of House Tyrell, had been the intended to be wed to the second son of the King, Prince Aemond Targaryen. Your mother was one of the scarce friends the Queen had made in the court after her estrangement with Princess Rhaenyra. You were born in the walls of the keep, the queen in attendance of your birth, smiling widely as the nurse announced that you were a girl— she was the first person to hold you after your mother and the wet nurse who handed you to her. “Oh, such a beauty she is…” The Queen cooed as she held you in her arms. Your mother smiled through her tiredness at how quickly the queen had taken to you. 

“She would make the most wonderful princess,” The queen sighed and returned you to your mother, turning her head towards the door where your promised groom already stood. Prince Aemond waddled to his mother. The boy was only two years old but was already meeting his intended. The queen took her son into her arms, lifting him up to see his future bride, who whined in her mother’s arms. Aemond furrowed his brows, stuck out his tongue, and made a noise of disapproval when he saw the pink-faced babe. “That’s not quite nice… show respect for your future wife,” The queen smiled and brushed the silvery locks of her son. 

That was the first and last time you and the prince met. Your mother and father returned to Highgarden as their stay in court was cut short with your father needing to return to his seat. For the first six and ten years of your life, you were promised to a man you have never met. Bearing the plight of women before you, promised to a man, not because of your will or your love for him but merely for status and to appease those who stood on high stature. You were defenseless as they paved your life before you, forcing you down a road that was often traveled by but many did not wish to cross. 

“We are to return to Kingslanding.” Your father suddenly announced. The dinner table went silent. The boisterous laughs and jests of your three older brothers and the babbles of your younger twin brother and sister growing hushed. “Why?” You asked quietly, breaking the silence. You pet the fur of your beloved feline, trying to calm your nerves as your mind brought forth a reason. “The queen requested our presence, dearest… it is time to meet your betrothed.” Your mother smiled and took hold of your hand, lightly squeezing it in comfort, thought you felt none. You lowered your gaze and tried to shut out the return of loud voices around the table. 

It was not that it was unexpected… it was just… wholly overwhelming. You took a few moments and a few more bites of your supper before excusing yourself from the loud table, needing peace and quiet. “Are you well, sister?” Your oldest brother, Edward, asked in concern, pausing his conversation with your other brothers, Edgar and Edmund. “Yes, I’m just tired.” You said with a small smile and left the dinner table with your pet. 

The matter of your betrothal with the prince was not at all an old matter. Ever since you were a child, they have instilled in your mind that you were Prince Aemond’s intended. That one day, you will be his bride. It was a subject you found troubling— for how can one live at ease, being promised to a man they had never met before? How could one truly live their life if their purpose is only to be married off— treated practically as a broodmare. 

 You were alone with your thoughts until you heard the faint knock on your door and your brother, Edmund, slowly opening it and peeking his head inside your chambers. “Yes?” You asked and sat straighter, removing your eyes from the fire you stared upon. 

“I am just making certain that you’re well.” He said softly and fully opened your chamber door, stepping in and bringing you a piece of cake for you had missed the dessert portion of your dinner. “Thank you,” You say gratefully, but simply place the piece of your favorite dessert on the table beside you, making your brother quickly grow suspicious. “What’s wrong?” Edmund asked in concern, taking his seat beside you. 

You gave him a forced smile and shook your head. “Nothing, I told you, I’m just tired.” You say softly, but your brother’s frown severed. “You’re clearly lying— no matter how tired you are, you always have energy for cake.” Your brother sighed, making you sigh as well. “I’m… I’m scared,” You admitted. Your brother nodded in understanding, “I would be surprised if you weren’t,” 

You twiddled with the ends of your hair as you and your brother were enveloped in a heavy, suffocating silence. “It’s just— I have been prepared for this since I was a babe… It’s all I know, but at the same time, I know nothing. I have no idea about him. What my life would be like after our marriage.” You say, your voice trembling with fear. “And I have been hearing rumors…” you say cautiously, your eyes upon your pet, who slept soundly on your lap.  “Rumors? You are never one to listen to rumors, "Your brother said in surprise; his sister was always indifferent to whispers and gossip. 

“Last summer, our cousin Eliza had gone to court… and there she observed Prince Aemond for me. To report to me what he was like because I had no idea of my future husband,” You began to recount the favor your cousin had done for you to ease your nerves about the marriage. “And?” Your brother leaned closer in curiosity. “She said he was… cold, aloof. Standoffish— ruthless when training with his sword. Indifferent, bordering into insulting to all members of the court.” You say quietly, uttering the harbored fear of your betrothed for almost a year now. Edmund licked his lips; your cousin Eliza was never one to exaggerate. 

“P—Perhaps it was just that summer… mayhap he has changed with the season,” Your brother tried to give a comforting smile, but it turned wary, neither of you believing his comforting but empty words. “I’m sorry, sister,” Your brother said quietly after a moment, looking at you with empathy. He also wondered how you would fare when married to a dragon prince and being a member of the den of vipers that was the court. 

You had always been timid, quiet, demure. He had always been skeptical of this betrothal set between you and the prince. He recalled how your father wanted to contest it, to break off the betrothal in your adolescence, seeing that his daughter was too soft for the harshness of royalty, but your mother did not wish for it, scared that it would offend her friend, the queen. 

“I don’t expect much from the marriage,” You spoke, “I… I only wish for him to be kind and perhaps grant me my solitude from time to time,” You added, and your brother nodded, “We shall see to it that you have it, sister. If we are to prove that the prince is ungallant or disagreeable, we shall convince Mother and Father to free you from him,” Your brother swore, and you gave him a sad smile, unconvinced by his promise but touched by the gesture of it. 

Edmund left his sister to the quiet she reveled and needed; Edmund marched in search of his other brothers. “She’s scared,” He announced as he found them in the drawing room; Edward, the eldest of them, lifted his gaze, “Who wouldn’t be?” He asked rhetorically as he sipped on his wine. “Are we truly that indebted to the crown? That we must oblige them with our dear sister?” Edgar questioned, “We are not indebted; our mother is,” Edgar replied. Your mother is forever grateful for her friend, the queen, who had shown her kindness during her time in court as a girl. She was greatly looked down upon, her father’s house inconsequential to the realm and often seen as a burden— through her friendship with Queen Alicent, she had risen through the ranks and had even secured a match with the heir of Highgarden. 

“Well, surely our sister is too great a price for this… emotional debt, especially when you consider the others who had wished to be her suitor, princes from Dorne and Essos who had sung her praises and showered her gifts for years. Yet they will force her to settle for a second son. She has not even met him! Not a letter or a token to show goodwill to his betrothed,” Edward sighed at his brother’s query. “What would you have us do?” Edgar asked, “I do not know… but if Prince Aemond is truly as harsh and tempestuous as Eliza and the realm says, we must convince them to break the betrothal.” Edmund was contented as his brothers agreed, all concerned for your marriage with a prince you had not even met yet. 

“Is all these frills truly necessary?” Aemond grumbled as he was being fitted for new garments, suffering through the needed preparations to meet his betrothed. “Yes. We cannot have you wear faded attire that reeks of dragon when you meet your betrothed. And I implore you to be kind and good-humored, Aemond. You must not scare off your wife,” Alicent sighed and nodded as the tailor bowed and finished taking the prince’s measurements. “She is not my wife,” Aemond gritted, “She is not your wife yet,” Alicent corrected, and Aemond shook his head. The dread in him was multiplying by the day. He was fortunate enough that his mother had not forced him to meet his betrothed years before, convincing himself that perhaps she had changed her mind and the betrothal could be broken, but alas, the fateful day to meet you has arrived. 

Aemond had not met you nor heard anything from you. He would think it common courtesy for you to send him at least a letter, to know him before this doomed marriage, but you had sent none— no introduction or anything. He did, however, hear talk about you, the bloomed beauty of the reach. A lady who was already betrothed the moment she was born but was still lined up by men who hoped to be her suitor. Aemond scoffed at the thought, perceiving you as promiscuous and maybe even defiled. Aemond met your cousin last summer, the lady Eliza, loud and not at all chaste. A shameless flirt who went around the castle and made a spectacle of herself, she was not you, but Aemond liked to believe that that is how you acted as well. 

Aemond tried to calm himself, to take his thoughts away from your arrival, but it would seem the castle was a growing reminder of you. He walked passed the great hall that was being dressed up for your family’s arrival. He passed the gardens where gardeners had been tending to flowers that were neglected, fretting that your family would take the wilted flowers as an offense. Aemond shook his head and walked through the guest wing, and saw how your chambers were being prepared. Aemond gritted his jaw and decided to retire early that day, but it would seem even the royal wing of the castle was being dressed up for your arrival. He frowned as he passed a once-boarded-up room being cleaned, “Who is to stay here?” Aemond asked a maid, believing his mother would place you in a chamber that was only a few steps from his own, a rather scandalous decision. 

“The prince Daemon, my prince, the hand says he is to stay for the moon,” A maid bowed, and Aemond furrowed his brow before giving a nod to dismiss the maid, and he walked off to his chambers; it would seem that it was not only your arrival he must worry about, he must worry about the arrival of his uncle as well. 

After five days of travel, you and the whole of your family arrived in Kingslanding. You took deep breaths before exiting the carriage, your kin being welcomed by a row of knights along with the Queen and her children. You could not even bear to look at anyone but the queen, scared to let your gaze travel to your betrothed. Your brothers stood by your side, offering support as all three pairs of their eyes assessed the prince, who had a look of disinterest. Edmund turned to his brothers, trying to see if they as well felt the animosity from the one-eyed prince that was easily felt. Through their eyes, they communicated silently and agreed. 

You straightened your back as you felt the Queen’s gaze upon you; only then did you raise your raise your gaze fully and presented her with a pretend smile. “My queen,” You curtsied lowly in respect; Queen Alicent smiled fondly and offered her compliments. The  queen bemused for her son to have such a comely wife. She turned to her side as she felt Aemond had still not stepped forward or had taken the initiative to introduce himself. 

Aemond sighed as he stepped forward and stiffly, almost reluctantly, bowed before you. He was staring at the skirts of your dress, refusing to look upon your face. He watched as the fabric moved as you curtsied before him. When you straightened your stance, you stared at the floor, still not catching a glimpse of your betrothed. 

You feel your brother Edgar’s arm link with yours as your family is escorted inside the walls of the Red Keep. The royal family walked in front of yours, and only then did you dare to look upon your betrothed. Recalling how your cousin had told you that prince Aemond was the taller of the two princes and had a curtain of straight, silver locks. 

Aemond felt your stare, and it took great restraint upon himself not to turn and gaze upon you to see the actuality of his intended. To deduce if the talk of your beauty was true or just another hoax. 

Aemond felt his mother step closer to him, “Invite your betrothed to the gardens— begin to acquaint yourselves with one another.” The queen whispered, and Aemond rolled his eye. “They have been traveling for five days; let them rest first before you force us to these rituals.” Aemond quietly spoke. His words were easily covered by the chatter of your brothers and two younger siblings, but he still had to hear a word to be uttered from your lips. “Very well then, but I expect you to sit and get to know her later during supper,” Alicent warned, and Aemond resisted verbalizing his disapproval, simply nodding along and going about his mother’s orders just as the dutiful son that he was. 

You and Aemond sat quietly in your seats as the table was filled with chatter. Aemond was not accustomed to it; their usual supper was suffocatingly silent; the only thing to be heard was the clatter of silverware upon porcelain and the breathing of his kin. Now, it was filled with varying conversations from your brothers and his, along with the chatter of the queen and her friend. Aemond had still not looked upon your face and nor you him. He stared upon your hand that was gripping your chalice; just from the looks of it, he could attest that it had never known a day’s work. The look of your flesh was soft, supple, unsullied—a stark difference from his own. 

“Do you think they will go on well?” The queen whispered to her friend; your mother eyed you, who sat in her seat, your gaze upon your plate. Her eyes then turned to your future husband, who gazed at the flickering amber light of a candle in between you. “I do not know… my daughter relishes in silence,” Your mother admitted, and the queen hummed. “So does my son,” 

You chewed on your lip as you noticed everyone at the table was chatting with one another, making small talk, except for you and your intended. You sat by his right, and you could make out the outline of him through the side of your eye; your view of him was a bit obstructed, but you could make out the contour of his nose. You battled with yourself if you should speak with him and, if you did, what topic would you bring up to converse with? 

Aemond licked his lips as he caught the eyes of his mother, imploring him to speak with you. He clenched his jaw and took a few calming breaths before parting his lips to speak. “H… How were your travels, my lady?” Aemond asked through gritted teeth, his head slightly turned in your direction. You blinked, trying to deduce if you had actually heard him speak. You turned to face the prince, finally seeing your betrothed eye to eye. “It was fine, my prince,” You answered quietly with a small smile before you and Aemond were enveloped in silence once more. 

Aemond did not know what overcame him when you spoke, and your eyes met his. He was expecting your voice to be shrill and loud— grating, even. He did not expect to hear such a soft, almost melodious tone when you spoke— a deep contrast from the voices of your kin. 

You bit your lip as you saw your mother from across the table imploring you to keep up with your conversation with the prince. “I— I heard you are quite fond of the histories, your highness,” You inquired quietly, holding your breath as your eyes locked with the unique gaze of old Valyria once more. “I am,” he replied curtly, and you nodded, uncertain if you should speak further or let his answer be, sensing he did not wish for small talk, a sentiment you, too, shared. 

You went quiet once more, and in other circumstances, Aemond would find relief in that, letting himself ease into the quiet, but there was an odd sensation in him that was pushing him to continue the unconventional conversation you two shared. Aemond, however, bit his tongue and let you two be enveloped in silence as you waited for supper to end. 

Aemond returned to his chambers, mind plagued by how to perceive his first encounters with you. He had prepared himself for the possibility of him growing annoyed and aggravated by your presence, but he was surprised in himself as he felt no such emotions rising within him. In truth, he felt somewhat serene that night, a feeling he had not felt in a long time. However, instead of enjoying the calm in his raging being, he ignored it, untrusting of it. Convincing himself that that night was luring him into a trap, one you had devised, acting ever so demure and coy, not presenting your true nature and only deceiving the prince. He will not fall for it. He fortified himself to not lay prey to this calming allure you offered. 

When the next morning came, Aemond was implored with the rest of his siblings to break their fast with yours. Your mothers forcing a bond between their children. Aemond expected his brother Aegon to complain and not abide by their mother’s wishes which is why he was caught off guard as his brother agreed, him being the first one to go to the gardens. “Your Highnesses,” Aemond heard your brothers greet in unison as you four stood and curtsied and bowed before the three of them. 

Aemond first assisted his sister to a chair before finding one for himself, and by fate, the only seat left was the one next to yours. Aemond sat quietly and tried to finish his meal as fast as he could without appearing crude. He listened in to the chatter across the table, surprised that you and his sister struck up a conversation as well. Aemond listened intently to your voice, trying to see if the volume of your speech was forced to lower or if that was just actually the way you spoke, soft— calming. 

He did not pay mind to the subject you and his sister discussed, but he supposed he should have as he suddenly heard quiet laughs emitting from the both of you. Aemond felt an odd warming in his chest as he heard you laugh; it was almost… surreal to hear it. Your laugh was what he imagined nymphs’ laughs would sound like as he read about them in his books. He was in a trance; it was… out worldly that even he, the well-spoken and silver-tongued prince of the realm, was speechless on how to describe it. 

He was proven wholly wrong as he based your manners to be alike your cousin. You were a stark difference from the lady Eliza, and a part of Aemond had hoped you were like her because then, he could justify the prejudice against you that settled and bloomed in his heart. Now, he must come to terms with shedding his cruel perception of you and might actually make an effort to know his betrothed better. Aemond stayed in the gardens that morning a while longer than he had anticipated, trying to deduce your character as you spoke with his sister and interacted with your brothers. A part of him still believes that what you presented was an act, that you were not as demure and chaste as you lead them to believe. But as he saw your small smiles, timid eyes, and flushed cheeks when Aegon would speak of such inappropriate topics, he started to feel as if you were being genuine. 

As the sun began to descend higher into the skies, the children of the queen and her friend decided to depart from the gardens, the heat proving to be too great for comfort. “My lady, would you perhaps like a tour of the keep?” Aemond boldly but quietly asked, he felt the eyes of your brothers turn to him, but he was trying to capture your gaze. A gaze that he had trouble locking upon his, your eyes always darting around the room, difficulty in holding prolonged eye contact. “I would very much like that, my prince,” You smiled, and Aemond stood straighter, feeling his knees give out under him just because of your smile. 

Your brother’s eyes followed you as you and the prince detached yourselves from the group. “Should we not follow them?” Edmund questioned, “Are they allowed to go about without an escort?” Edgar then asked, their queries pointed towards their eldest brother. “I— I do not know… perhaps we should just let them get to know each other, and if sister has any concerns, that is when we shall intervene.” Edward decided, his eyes following your departing figure that was next to a silver prince. 

Aemond was not entirely certain as to how he would go about touring you along the Red Keep; the castle was dreary and had nothing of note to look upon, so he took you to the gallery. It was a less frequented room in the castle filled with portraits of his family’s history as well as some of Westeros. You and Aemond stood before a portrait of the conqueror and his wives, him retelling the histories that you already knew of, but you still listened intently because there was just something in his voice that entranced you. It was deep, velvety, and quiet— holding a sense of calm that enveloped you with every word he uttered. 

Aemond guided you towards another portrait, but he noticed your gaze had shifted to the side of the room, your gentle gaze upon a harp. “Do you play, my prince?” You questioned, unable to resist the instrument that sat lonesome to the side, dusted and neglected. Aemond followed you, “No, I do not,” he answered, his eye going to your fingers, which seemed to itch to touch the strings of the unused harp. “Do you?” He asked, already guessing the answer. Aemond held his breath as your eyes finally locked with his, “I do,” you said, voice holding a pitch of excitement about the subject. There was a beat of silence, neither of you knowing what to do or say. 

“Would you like to play it?” Aemond questioned and he felt his stomach grow warm as a smile appeared on your lips when you nodded. You ventured closer to the dusted seat, but Aemond was quicker to reach it and wipe away the remnants of lapsed time. “Thank you,” You say quietly as the prince stands by your side and observes you play. 

Aemond was never one to enjoy music or songs, but he must admit, there was something captivating about how you played the harp. The tune you played was one he had not heard before, something bright and lively yet still soothing. Aemond stood in quiet awe, watching as your fingers danced along the strings and how your eyes closed, and there was a tranquil smile on your lips as you played the tune. Aemond tried to resist it, but he could not help but help himself as a smile twitched on his lips as he listened to your melody, which, unfortunately, quickly came to a halt. 

“It’s not finished yet,” You say in slight embarrassment, daring to turn to the prince, who you were surprised to see have a ghost of a smile on his lips. “You wrote that?” He questioned, and you nodded, “Well, I try. I don’t think I'm quite good at it, if I am being honest— but my father did say that this piece holds the most promise.” You say sheepishly. “I quite enjoyed it,” Aemond admitted, and that compliment made your heart grow warm. “I’m glad,” You smiled, and another silence took the room, the silence you and he found comfort in. 

With each day spent trying to acquaint with one another, you would like to beleive you and Aemond had reached a deeper understanding. Each of your perceptions made of each other before your meeting shed as you and him began to know each other’s actuality.

There was a secret language between you, a silent one, at that. An agreement that neither of you had to fill up the gaps and lags in your conversations, simply enjoying the quiet, not forcing another topic as a filler. Others around you found it odd that you and your betrothed just walked and sat in silence, occasionally speaking of something that only you and he were privy to, but you and Aemond quite liked your arrangements. 

“They just sit there in silence,” The queen fretted to her friends, finding the design of your accord quite odd. Fretting that the silence was brought by indifference rather than just a mutual and deeper understanding, because how could one get to know the other in silence? “Aye, they do, but they don’t seem… bothered or disinterested by it— I dare say they are fond of it,” Your mother said as the two observed you and Aemond, who walked along the gardens in silence, relishing in the sounds of nature. 

“My uncle shall arrive today,” Aemond broke the silence, assisting you to a seat for the two of you to have refreshments, “Oh, Prince Daemon?” You asked, wanting to make certain of who he spoke of. Aemond gave a nod and watched as your delicate fingers poured him a cup of tea. “Are you close with him, my prince?” You wondered. “No, not at all. I’ve only met him once,” He answered as he placed two cubes of sugar upon your cup, noting that is how you took your tea. 

“However, I must admit that I am intrigued by him.” You nodded, “I always hear talk in this court as to how the lords and ladies compared me to him in his youth,” Aemond confessed, “And does that please you?” Aemond thought about your question for a moment, staring into your gaze that has grown accustomed to looking upon his. “No,” he answered, watching as you nodded. “I would understand; it wouldn’t fare well if we are always compared to another’s likeness,” You mused before you and the prince were enveloped in the inevitable silence once more. 

When supper was nearing, Aemond felt excitement in seeing you once more. He had come far from the prince who dreaded your company; now, he sought it—altering his usual routine in order to spend more time with you. 

Aemond was the last one to enter the dining hall, his eye searching your frame, feeling a smirk twitch on his lips, but it quickly disappeared as he realized his uncle had taken his place. “Prince Daemon, we have saved you a seat next to the king,” Alicent spoke as she noticed Aemond’s arrival, noting how Prince Daemon was quick to spot you when he entered the hall and made a beeline towards you— chatting with you who had no interest in small talk but still participated out of respect.

“I am quite comfortable here, next to Lady Tyrell,” Daemon refused the seat, only settling further into his chair as he turned to the girl next to him, but her gaze was turned to one of his nephews, the one who had a resemblance of him in his youth. You hear the quiet yet disapproving hum of your betrothed as he orders a squire to place a chair by your right, just enough space for him to sit next to you. The new place on your right offered closer proximity between you and Aemond as you had scooted away from his uncle, but he did not like that you were on the side of a damaged eye, unable to see your outline. 

Supper was tenser than the ones shared before; the chatter had died, and the table was enveloped in silence, but not the kind you and Aemond found comfort in. It was the silence that everyone feared and tried earnestly to alter, but no matter the attempts, it seemed futile. 

Aemond clenched his fists around his utensils, hearing as his uncle tried to chat you up and you entertaining his queries. “So, what brings you and your family here, Lady Tyrell? Highgarden is quite a journey.” Daemon questioned. “They came for my betrothed and I to be acquainted,” Aemond suddenly interjected, turning his body to face you and his uncle, who he had noticed threaded closer to your side. Daemon hummed, quick to sense jealousy from his nephew. He knew he should be somewhat mature, but his mind could not help but conjure up possibilities to torment his brother’s second son. “Hm, you are quite fortunate to have such a lovely betrothed; it would seem the crown has favored you… I remember my first wife, Lady Royce, the bronze bitch whose sheep seemed to prove more comely than her,”

Your eyes widened at the elder prince’s words, disparaging his first wife so openly and offensively. “If my brother had provided me with a bride whose beauty was comparable to Lady Tyrell’s, perhaps there would be no need for me to leave my first wife… you are lucky, nephew,” Aemond clenched his jaw as he noticed Daemon’s eyes trail downward to your bosom that heaved ever so lightly as you were rendered uncomfortable by their topic.

You turned to your brothers, a plea in your eyes to save you from the princes you sat in between. Edward was quick to stand, “Come, sister, I shall escort you to your chambers,” He announced, and you let out a breath, Aemond standing as well to make way for you to exit, “Good night, my lady,” He bowed and boldly took your hand placed a kiss on your knuckles. A blush over, taking your cheeks as you curtsied before him, your mothers thrilled as they saw affection blooming between the two of you. 

“You looked quite uncomfortable,” Your eldest brother noted. “Is your betrothed proving to be ungallant? Must we intervene now and convince mo—“ You quickly shook our head, “No! Prince Aemond has been quite… lovely; cousin Eliza was somewhat wrong in her judgment,” You say quickly in defense of Aemond, who you had grown to deeply like the past few days. “I was just not prepared to meet a character such as the Prince Daemon,” You added, and your brother nodded in understanding; he, too, was scandalized as he heard the words uttered by the elderly prince. 

“So, you have grown to be quite… fond of your betrothed,” You bit your lip as you hear a teasing tone in his voice. You sighed and felt a smile coming to your lips. Whatever fear you had for the marriage subsided with every silent and serene moment with Aemond. “I have.” You confirmed, and your brother nodded. Placing a kiss on your temple before you enter your chambers and get ready for the night.

It has been three days since Prince Daemon’s arrival, and Aemond has been growing peeved at how his uncle would always trail you. Aemond’s new routine of spending the quiet hours of his days with you that was quick to feel like second nature, abrupted by the arrival of his uncle. There were now only scarce moments where you and Aemond were left in each other’s company and quiet, his uncle always trying to speak with you, and you could not deny him conversation, for it would be impertinent. 

It was past high noon when Aemond concluded his training with Ser Criston, his feet hastily carrying him away from the tiltyard to find you, who had frequented the gallery to play the old harp that found new life from your touch. He stood by the threshold and was quick to grow annoyed as he noticed his uncle was in your presence once more. 

“You do not speak much, do you?” He heard Daemon question, your fingers ceasing to play the instrument. “I take it upon myself to not speak unless spoken to, my prince. I do not wish to bother anyone. I know how… annoying it can be when one just simply wishes for peace and quiet, but there is an insistent noise you must attend to.” You say, and Aemond was quite surprised as he heard a slight in your comment, but his uncle did not seem to catch it. 

Aemond observed as you returned to play the harp, the melody easing whatever tension he harbored, but it was quick to return as his uncle wandered closer to you. Aemond stood rigid by the door; your back was face to him and he saw his uncle turn his head towards the door, a smirk on his lips as he stepped further into your space. Daring to take a lock of your hair in his fingers, twirling the lock. 

You tensed in your seat as you felt Prince Daemon’s finger twirl your hair. You looked at the strings of the harp wide-eyed, uncertain of what to do. 

When Aemond noticed your unmoving frame that did nothing to hinder his uncle’s actions, he removed himself from the door frame and marched back to his chambers. Whatever understanding made between the two of the past days was quickly forgotten as his cruel perceptions of your nature, he mustered before meeting you returned. 

You sat tensely at dinner that night once more, waiting for the presence of your betrothed to somewhat comfort as his uncle sat next to you again. When Aemond entered the hall, you placed your hopeful gaze upon him, but he did not turn to you, ignoring the empty seat next to you and instead to a seat in what was supposed to be the place of his uncle. 

Throughout dinner, you would peek a look at Aemond, who refused to meet your gaze. There was a prominent scowl on his face, and his demeanor held an air of indifference that strayed dangerously close to animosity. You started to wonder if the Aemond you stared upon right now was the Prince your cousin had warned you about. And perhaps the past few days spent with him was an act, a fictitiousness in him to appease his mother so the marriage would proceed. You were disheartened by the thought. 

When the following morning came, Aemond’s eye followed as you roamed the halls alone, following behind you but not close enough for you to notice your presence. You led him back to the gallery, where both of you were caught in surprise when his uncle stood in the room, waiting for you. Aemond clenched his fists, believing he was a witness in your clandestine meetings. The scandal of it! Here you are, an engaged woman meeting with a man who was old enough to be your father and was married to the King’s chosen heir!

“My prince,” you curtsied as you spotted him near the harp, having the urge to turn back around and exit the room. Uncomfortable to be alone in the Rogue Prince’s presence. “All alone? Where is your betrothed?” Daemon mused, stepping closer to you. “I— I do not know,” You said and backed away from the prince who was threading closer to your space once more. “Hm, it’s quite foolish of him to leave his lovely bride to be all alone… especially in this keep where danger always lurks,” Your lips parted at his words. Was that a threat? You thought. 

You swallowed thickly and turned to the door, wanting to make an escape but not one so obvious that it would make suspicion rise. Daemon smirked as he saw fear in your eyes; it was so easy. You were such an innocent and sheltered thing. He could smell you from leagues away, a lovely and tempting prey that a dragon could never resist. It was a shame that you were betrothed to his nephew, but perhaps that could still change. 

You gasped as you felt Prince Daemon flush your bodies; you stared at him wide-eyed as he took hold of your cheek. 

Aemond watched the scene; rage within burned bright and carelessly. He wanted to put a stop to whatever he witnessed, but he stood in wait, wanting to find evidence if this was truly how you were— promiscuous and would settle to be a whore of his uncle.

“My prince, wh—“ You panicked, trying to back away, but he held you still. “Such a pretty young thing you are… a shame that you’ll be wasted on my disfigured nephew,” You drew out all of your might and pushed away Prince Daemon, him stumbling only a few paces. You see a sinister smirk rise to his lips as he tries to close the gap between you once more, but you are quick to strike his cheek, rendering him in shock, and you take that opportunity to run out of the room and into safety. 

Aemond was hidden behind a pillar, and as you passed, he saw clearly the distress on your face and how you were on the verge of tears, rendering him guilty for not coming to your aid as he had thought you were in want of his uncle. 

Aemond saw as Daemon furiously marched out of the gallery in pursuit of you, but he was quick to step away from his hiding and face his uncle. “You dare try to sully her? Was my half-sister and your whores not enough? Must, in your old age, still prey on young innocent girls?” Aemond spat, ready to challenge his uncle in your honor. Daemon chuckled as the young prince stared at him wide-eyed. “You get ahead of yourself— they might compare you to me in my youth, but you are completely lacking of what it means to be a true Targaryen prince… you’d have to thank your cunt of a mother for that.” Daemon chuckled, and Aemond no longer hesitated to draw out his sword. 

A battle between nephew and uncle commenced in the halls; both men wielded their weapons with such authority that neither one could draw blood. Daemon was somewhat impressed by his nephew. He thought the talk he heard of Aemond was just propaganda spread by his grandsire, but it would seem that his nephew knew his way with the steel. That, however, did not deter the prince, for Aemond was still completely inexperienced when compared to him. 

One of the princes was near drawing blood when a band of Kingsguards appeared in the halls and were quick to separate the dueling princes. Daemon laughed as he was held back by the knights, his nephew still seething across from him, still ready to attack. The elderly prince brushed off the hold on his arms and laughed once more before walking away from his nephew, leaving their state as it was. 

Aemond brushed off the guards and hastily marched in search of you, wanting to make certain you were well— wanting to offer his apologies for his judgments and lack of protection over you. 

He knocked on your door, waiting on bated breath as he heard you shuffling inside. When you slowly revealed yourself, Aemond felt his stomach pit at the sight of your teary eyes that you tried to hide. “I’m sorry,” He was quick to breathe out, unable to stomach you in such a state of distress. Your brows knit together at his words, “What? My pri—“ Aemond shook his head and forced himself into your chambers. 

“I’m so sorry, my lady… I—“ Aemond repeated but you still had no clue as to what he refers to. “My uncle, he is a depraved man; I should have protected you from him.” He explained as he saw confusion in your face. Your eyes widened at his statement, “You saw us?” You asked in fear that he would think you were tarnished. “I have, and I… I should have come to your aid, but instead, my mind cruelly thought you were in want of him; I apologize, my lady.” It felt foreign for Aemond to apologize, but it seemed to roll off his tongue effortlessly for you. He would never have fathom to encounter someone or the day that he would apologize earnestly, ready to beg for forgiveness. 

“No… my prince, you need not apologize; it was not your doing,” you said, but Prince Aemond stubbornly shook his head. “It is my duty to protect you— to defend my lady wife.” You bit your tongue as he referred to you with such a title. It felt surreal… and you must admit it brought a stir in you that you quite liked. 

You and Aemond were in silence once more, the silence both of you had gotten used to, the silence within each other that you both craved. The serene silence that could only be provided by each other. “Will you still… still have me? Even after my transgression?” Aemond dared ask, not wanting to live in the hope that there would still be a way that you would be his. Surely, you would be deterred to take him as your husband, for he could not even defend you with such a threat. Aemond studied your face, his knees growing weak as a smile spread across your lips. “I still want you, my prince,” You admitted, heat blooming in your cheeks as you said the words. Aemond could not help but cup your cheek, wanting to feel the warmth of them as they flushed with color before him. 

“I must admit… I was dreading to meet you,” He said quietly, and he felt you nod. “I, as well… I was greatly warned that we might not see eye to eye.” You admitted. Aemond hummed and brushed his thumb across your soft skin, your bodies threading closer and closer. “I do not believe I would ever want someone as much as I want you,” Aemond confessed, his voice so low that if you had not felt his breath fanning your skin, you would think you had imagined his words. “I never thought anyone would understand me in the way that you do, my prince,” You breathed out as his face threaded closer to yours, his eye on your lips as you spoke. 

“You’re mine… say it, my darling.” Your eyes fluttered closed at his words. “I’m all yours,” Quickly after you uttered the words, you feel his lips upon yours. A kiss filled with longing— impatience. A kiss that was long overdue, for how could either of you live for years without knowing each other? How could Aemond try to ignore your existence, and how could you try to deny this marriage? It was set the day you were born. You two were simply destined for one another. 

As your lips parted, you smiled before your soon-to-be-husband. Aemond hummed in contentment and tucked a lock of your hair behind your ear, inhaling your intoxicating scent deeply. “Shall we tell our mothers that they shall prepare for our wedding, then?” Aemond smiled, and you let out a quiet laugh as you nodded, letting him hold you. “And urge them to make haste,” Aemond’s eye twinkled with amusement as he dipped down to capture your lips once more. 

A fortnight had barely passed before you and Aemond uttered your vows before the gods—an intimate wedding commenced, as you both requested. And it was followed by a family dinner after. Aemond was impatient, as were you, but you and he waited for the meal to end; for the past days, there was a need greatly bubbling inside him, having trouble finding restrtaint and contentment with just stolen kisses and touches. 

When it was finally night, Aemond led you to his chambers, you already flushing in anticipation of what was to come. When he led you to your shared chambers, you were met by something covered in a white cloth. You frowned and turned to your husband, who simply smiled and closed the door behind you. “It’s a gift for you.” He said and stood before it. You stepped closer as he urged you to uncover what he had given, though you already had a sneaking feeling as to what it was. 

Aemond watched with his heart in his eye as you beamed before him as you uncovered what he had given— a harp. Newer and grander than the one in the gallery, the body was plated with gold, and delicate carvings of flowers scattered its body. You bit your lip and step towards your husband, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your lips agaisnt his. “Thank you… I love it,” you said gratefully as your lips parted. Aemond simply hummed, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know we were to exchange gifts… I could’ve gotten something,” You then say, fretting he would take offense. 

Aemond shook his head. “You already have given me your hand; you are my wife. What more could I want?” Those words uttered, and the certainty in Aemond only made you melt further. He intertwined your lips once more, but the kiss shared held something wholly different from the ones shared before; it was urgent, filled with longing and desires that were greatly suppressed. 

You feel breathless, but at the same time, you make no move to part your lips. You feel him lead you to the feathered bed, his hands on your waist as he sits you gently upon the cushion. You blushed as you felt his fingers hover at the bodice of your dress, itching to undo the laces, but there was trepidation in him. You bit the insides of your cheeks and took the initiative to do it yourself. Aemond sucked in a deep breath as your dress fell before him, revealing yourself only dressed in your shift. 

Aemond fell on his knees before you, moving his hand to cup your cheek and the other to undress you further. He heard a moan escape your lips as he nipped your bottom lip. His cold hand cupped your breast that pebbled before his touch. You mewled his name as he parted your lips, your hands finding the buttons of his leather tunic. 

You ran your hands through his smooth, chiseled chest and Aemond felt chills running down his spine at the feel of your hands on his skin. You let out a breath as you feel your husband lay you down, his weight atop you, his weeping length aligned with your glistening entrance. You sighed as you felt his finger tease your folds, Aemond resting his forehead up your shoulder as he felt your arousal. “You’re all mine, my darling,” Aemond breathed out against your lips and swallowed your whines as his length penetrated you.

Aemond groaned at the sheer feel of you clenching around him. Pleasure and guilt swirled within him as he saw your face contorted in pain, kissing away your tears as you acclimatized yourself with his length. He truly thought himself indifferent in the ways of pleasure, only succumbing to it occasionally when even he could not suffice his lust— but now, he was certain he knew what the fuss was all about when it came to fucking. He had only a taste of you, but he was certain he was addicted. It took a moment before your whines of pain turned into whimpers of pleasure, your husband breathing heavily as you urged him to speed up his pace, but Aemond was conscious not to break and hurt you further. 

“Aemond, please… I wa— need more,” You breathed as Aemond’s thrusts were cautious. He bit his lip and sped up his pace ever so lightly, but that was not enough for you. With your legs circling his waist, you shifted your weight and placed yourself atop your husband. Aemond was rendered stunned by your actions, only watching in awe as you bounced upon his cock whilst you straddled his waist. He never thought you’d have it in you, but he supposed it was always the quiet ones who would be capable of the unexpected. 

“You were so quiet the days before, little wife… but look at you now— your moans could be heard throughout the castle.” Aemond hummed, and his hands found home on your waist, assisting you as you writhed against his length. Your hands were planted on his chest as your hips worked against his in search of friction. “Husband, please,” you pleaded, knowing you would not come to what you searched for without his assistance. Aemond smirked and moved his hands to cup your behind and lifted his hips to thrust deeper and harsher into you. 

“Yes… yes, gods, Aemond!” You cried as you heard him groan at how you scratched his chest, leaving imprints of your hands upon his skin. “Are you to come, my darling? Is my little wife to come at my cock?” He hissed as he felt his own release coming. His hands traveled your frame, cupping your tits and moving his head to take one into the cavern of his mouth. You nodded, your head that was tilted to the heavens, your back arched, and your husband’s name slipping your lips as you came undone. You hear him call out your name as he spills his seed deep in your cunt, your heavy breathings mixed as you collapse atop him, his lips finding yours once more. 

“You truly are made for me,” he whispered against your lips. Feeling a surge of new and overwhelming emotions that you could not yet utter, all you could do was kiss his lips once more and bask in the presence of the man who had been bound to you the moment you were born. 

[sttoru]

your boyfriend cannot stop himself from kissing you all over. kissing you is his favorite thing to do - no matter when or where.

☀︎｜tags. older bf!gojo satoru x female reader. suggestive, mild (to somewhat) nsfw, fluff. lots of kissing. lots and lots of kissing and loving. he fondles and gropes you everywhere basically. clingy satoru. tiny bit size difference (yes ok im a slut, what about it). body worship kinda. readers gets called ‘sweet / pretty girl, baby, princess’. beta read? what’s that.

you fell for it again; satoru told you it was only going to be a quick peck on the lips. ‘i promise, baby, c'moooon’ — you recall him begging in that whiny voice of his. that's all what was needed to make you putty in his hands.

“fine, but only one kiss, okay?” you gave in and walked over to satoru, climbed onto your shared bed and leaned in for a swift kiss—only for his strong arms to cage you in and never let go. it had been ten minutes since; the apartment was silent, except for the lewd sounds of your shared kisses and heavy breaths.

satoru’s soft hands are wandering everywhere. from cupping your cheeks to rubbing your sides and gripping your ass. the clock was ticking loudly, but the sound of it was drowned out by your moans. and satoru’s low, needy whimpers.

the appointment you were getting ready for had long slipped your mind.

“mh, you’re such a good kisser, baby,” the white-haired man sighs. he absolutely loves the way you follow the movements of his glossy lips—your head tilting to the side and back—automatically accomodating to satoru’s motions. he was kissing you with an urgent need. one you had never known or witnessed before, “more, ngh, need more of you, please.”

satoru was not letting up. you couldn’t blame him; it was easy to get lost in this warm and cherished moment of peace. his sweet kisses switched intensity—going from innocent kisses to sloppy ones, resulting in your chin dripping with a mixture of saliva.

you whine and straddle satoru’s lap which earns you a happy hum from your lover. that was his plan all along: to completely distract you from the fact that you had to leave the house. that you had to leave his side. others would call it annoyingly clingy, but satoru absolutely needs your lips on his.

he is sure that he would go insane if he spent a whole day without kissing you. an hour is already too long, if he is honest.

satoru would love to kiss you until the end of time. until death comes knocking onto his door. the last thing he desires to feel is your plump lips and wet tongue wrapped around his. a peaceful, warm death. one with no regrets.

“mhmmm, fuck, you taste so sweet.” satoru's eyebrow furrow in delight. he is nearly overstimulated by the taste of you. the way your small body clings onto him, your hands holding onto his jaw and sliding down his chest, your sounds of pleasure that only he could ever have the honour of hearing.

it was perfect. all of you was perfect.

your parted lips make way for his tongue again. satoru slips his tongue inside your mouth. it was tender, yet demanding. your throat tightens up and a choked moan fills his ears. his cold fingers make contact with the warm skin of your midriff. they were aiming at one place; your chest.

the one satoru loves to fondle no matter when or where. the same one he loves to use as a pillow every night.

“nnh, ‘toru, need’to breathe,” you are running out of air. the short gasps you took between the heated kisses were not enough to fill your lungs. but, it was addicting. the shortness of breath the two of you experienced only served as more proof of your love.

neither of you want to pull away—to pause the make out session for even what could be a split second.

the older man below you is hesistant. he does not want to let go of you. it's like you’re asking him to break up—that’s how much it hurts him to stop kissing you.

however, he felt a bit light-headed from the lack of oxygen as well. satoru pulls away, but not without sweeping his tongue over your bottom lip, lapping up the drool that dripped down the corners of your mouth.

his eyes are half-lidded and glazed over with both love and lust. you stabilise yourself by holding onto his broad shoulders and satoru rubs your back to help calm you down further. a ghost of a grin tugs at his lips. he surely is enjoying your adorable, exhausted demeanour. your chest was heaving up and down—his fingers sneaking to your front and wrapping around a breast to feel its tenderness.

“pretty,” satoru sighs. he takes the chance once your lips part to take a deep breath. his tongue quickly slips in, invading your mouth and exploring every inch before separating the two of you again. he can not go a minute without kissing you. you sure are like a drug to him, “thank you, princess.”

you are surprised by the sudden tongue kiss, but brush it off with a chuckle. you know how satoru is; not able to keep away from you in heated moments like these. his large hands fondling, groping and squeezing every area of your body only proves that point.

“thank you for what?” you ask, planting a soft peck on his lips. your boyfriend responds by holding the back of your head. he leans in for another kiss like a man depraved of any affection. you shudder and hold onto him like he there is no tomorrow. he does the same back, squeezing you against his chest.

satoru slightly tilts his head back to answer your question. his breath was hot on your mouth, a faint string of saliva hanging between your bottom lips. he can not hold the urge. he can not answer. his lips are already colliding with yours once more.

over and over. until the two of you were out of breath and needed a break again.

“thank you for being with me,” satoru answers in a quiet whisper. the pad of his thumb brushes back and forth against the waistband of the shorts you are wearing. there is an urge to pull them down and reveal those pretty little panties you are wearing, but his current priority is to feel your mouth on his.

until he gets enough. which is never. never in a million years.

“thank you for everything, honestly,” satoru continues and leaves a couple wet kisses down your neck. his hands do not leave your perfect body. he’s admiring every curve - every body part that had yet to be touched, “could have never believed that i’d end up with such a pretty girl. but, here i am, with the prettiest girl in the world in my arms.”

satoru had a way with words. one that left you flustered like crazy each time. he looks at you and that’s when you know that he means every word. his eyes were shining, even when half-lidded. the admiration in them more than just visible.

he looks at your face and body like he’s witnessing the world's greatest treasure. and that you surely are.

“stop saying that.” you giggle embarrassedly. you cover your mouth to hide your smile, though satoru is quick to grab your wrist and pull your hand away. he keeps holding onto your arm to prevent you from hiding your face from his sight. and to stop you from hiding your lips from his, of course.

the older man clicks his tongue, scolding you jokingly for trying to hide that precious smile from him. he kisses the corners of your lips, touch lingering against your hot skin, “how am i supposed to admire my pretty girl if she keeps hiding herself, hm?”

you squirm due to satoru’s flirty words. his gentle tone of voice is making you feel those tingles in your lower abdomen. there has not been a single moment in your relationship where your lover made you feel unwanted. it’s been the complete opposite every day.

“someone’s getting a bit squirmy, aye?” your boyfriend teases. he knows that the combination of his words, looks and actions make you weak in the knees. you always react like it’s your first time kissing and that is both endearing and amusing to him.

you can’t control your bodily reactions either. the sight of satoru beneath you is simply too much. his fluffy hair that sits messily due to your fingers that tugged and played around with the strands, his black top riding up to reveal a glimpse of his defined abs and happy trail. . . the faint blush on satoru’s cheeks and the needy look in his eyes.

you surely can’t leave him alone while he looks like that.

“shut up and kiss me already.” you respond with a huff. and so, satoru does. wasting not a single second. kissing you is his job—his passion. the only thing he ever craves for.

the room once again fills with noises of pure contentment, enjoyment and pleasure. it’s just you two in that moment—no one else mattered.

as long as your lips stay attached to each other, no one actually does.