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rise-my-angel · 5 months

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Jon Snow and Robb Stark

Pairings: Jon Snow x F!Baratheon!Reader, Robb Stark x F!Baratheon!Reader

Length: 17.5k

Warnings: smut, oral (m and f receiving), p in v, discussions of various kinks, mentions of past sexual assault and trauma, talk of pregnancy, hard dom/soft dom/sub dynamics explored, bdsm related content

Notes: The dynamics are based off of pairings from my series Heart of the Great Wolf, but can be read on it's own for the most part. Broad strokes for it being read without my fic series context: the relationship timeline was the reader secretly seeing Jon pre start of show/books, then married to Robb in an arranged marriage during the Kings visit to Winterfell, and then back with Jon post his resurrection hence why his sections are split into two parts. Might contain some spoilers for part 3 and a bit of part 4, for my fic in some places.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:

You two had never gotten far that normal aftercare was ever needed. Jon might be teasing, but he was gentle and slow, and that went right through start to finish.

Sometimes, all you had was the alone silence of the middle of the night, and whatever you two had tentatively done with one another always ended with a struggle to let the other go. Jon simply didn't have time or the freedom to take care of you after making you cum. Even when it was something more simple, kissing the other on his bed, his back against the wall and you perched in his lap, as the closest you got as a grind against his covered cock. Jon would kiss you gentle once on the lips another to your forehead as he held you tight until he was sure you were alright to be on your own.

The last thing he wanted was to send you off to your own chambers, feeling as if Jon had just mindlessly kicked you out.

Post Resurrection Jon Snow:

There is very little Jon takes more seriously then caring for you after sex. He knows exactly what he is, intense and overwhelming, and he knows he is rougher with you then he sometimes realizes in the moment.

As soon as you both settle from your peaks, Jon will pull you quick into his arms. Some nights he will keep you on his lap, tucking your face into his neck as he runs a hand over your hair and the other gentle along your back and waist, until he feels your breathing return to normal. Or Jon moves to lay you out, normally somewhat on your side so he can turn to face you, tucking you into his chest. His own face buries in your hair as his voice is low and rasping, soothing words to you of comfort. Praises of how well you did as he tries to convince himself to be gentle if he kisses you.

Jon will always ensure you feel safe, and loved before anything else, and he will keep running his hands gently on your skin and murmur comforts in your ear until he feels you fall asleep. Even then, he normally continues to stay awake, watching you until he finally feels his eyes beg for sleep of his own. The rougher he takes you, the more gentle and soothing Jons touch and words are after as he coaxes you back for him.

Robb Stark:

Robb is fully aware of how hard he goes with you. You have minimal experience outside of him, and he brought you into this sort of thing with rough thrusts and a dominating nature. But it also means he knows how much he needs to make up for that when it's all over.

He will check up on you, ask if he went too far or if you didn't enjoy something and the next time he pays close attention to how far you've dropped and when. Which with him, is often. But Robb switches when it's all over, and the second he looks at you, all he sees is the love of his life and he wants to bring you calmly back to him. He'll hold you, speak soothingly to you with tender touches along your skin and many times he tries to get you to talk. The more you talk, the more clear your head is, and if he can make you laugh then Robb knows you're alright.

Much of the time, you often end up falling asleep together in the same position your aftercare was spent. Robb usually on his back, his arms wrapped around you as he tucks you into his side and your head drapes comfortingly on his chest. For all his talk, Robb loves nothing more then to just lay in bed and cuddle with you when you're done, and he adores that you are just as needy for a loving touch.

If anything, aftercare that Robb needs from you, is to just let him hold you and keep you tucked into his arms as much as you need his touch to calm you down as well.

B = Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:

If you were to ask Robb, his brother would joke that it's his hair he likes best about himself. But in truth, Jon never really thought much of it in that way. Of himself. He looked how he looked, and he didn't really care about much of it.

Robb was more handsome and Jon didn't really care what girls thought of how he looked because as long as you liked how he looked, that's all that mattered.

On you? Jon had two answers, if it were blatantly sexual Jon would say your breasts. Soft, seemed to be made to fit perfectly in his hands and you were sensitive as all hell, that simple touches could work you up in an instant.

Not sexually though, it would be your smile. Not just any, but that soft, gentle one you'd give him when no one else was looking, beacuse you just wanted him to know you were paying attention to him no matter what. You were so stone faced all the time, but whenever you'd give Jon that smile? It could make the worst of his days better in an instant.

Post Resurrection Jon Snow:

Easily that would be his hands. He did much with them and despite the amount of which was death and bloodshed, Jon knew he never did it beacuse he liked it. Jons hands were to him, a reminder of the man he had become, someone who at their core, was a protector. Of you, of the innocent, fighting for what was right when no one else would make the sacrifice.

But they also were the same hands that calmed you down. Your worst moments, trapped still somewhere in a hell of Ramsay Boltons making, they were the same hands that would cup your cheeks, run along your soft skin until you looked at him with those eyes.

Eyes that were something he could never get enough of. Soft and wide, you held so much more emotion in them now then you ever did before, and Jon adored it. You almost couldn't hide from Jon as long as he could find your eyes, and read whatever was in your head in seconds. They were beautiful to him, and they were the same eyes he kept dreaming that your children together would have, and that made them the thing he adored the most.

That, and Jon knew he had a tendency to make you look him right in the eyes when he was inside you, and he was weak to how needing they always looked when you did.

Robb Stark:

Robb easily loves his hands. How since you've been married, since you escaped Kings Landing and came back to him, all hes wanted to do is use those same hands to protect you. It's easy to tell, Robb almost always has a hand on you if he's near and it's heavily rooted in how he knows your safe and he can protect you, if he feels you right beside him.

He also knows how much of a mess he makes of you with them in so many ways. Those hand go quickly from innocent and protective all the way to perverse in seconds. And he knows exactly where to put them to make you melt to him.

On you, his favourite more innocent part of your body is your hips. They're perfect to him, shaped just right to the way he can so easily imagine you with his child right in your arms, a son perched near your hip as even then, you still speak to his lords and knights with command. He has a hand on them a lot, likes to move you with hands on your hips, they're just soft and perfect for him.

More on the filthy side, Robb fully can admit he is utterly obsessed with your ass. He knows it, you know it, there's no question. He wants you in pants all the time just beacuse of how well they shape your ass, the harder he smacks them the more he watches your cheeks jiggle and he gets worked up aggressively when he can see the red outline of his hand print after he's slapped and groped your ass as much as he can get away with.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:

Call it insecurity, but Jon almost didn't want his end to be part of the equation with you. If he could make love to you and not have to worry about that, he'd have been ready a long time ago.

To him, sure it felt good, but when he was with you he was always plagued in the back of his mind. Getting you pregnant was truthfully his biggest fear, and so he spent a lot of time learning what felt best for you when he touched you, and not wanting to let you do much back. Jon loved learning what made you cum, but he was almost strict in not really letting you reciprocate. He liked making you feel good, and he didn't ever want to risk ruining your life by getting you pregnant, and he certainly refused to force his own child to be born a bastard.

Post Resurrection Jon Snow:

Jon knew as soon as he slid inside you for the first time, it was different. Not a shred of that insecurity was in his mind anymore.

He fucked you against the wall that night steady and slow, and there was not a shred of doubt in his mind that he wanted to cum as deep as he could. Pressing you tight against the wall and sinking as far as you could take him, all Jon wanted to do after, was do it again. And again. He dreamed about it, he craved it, he loved cumming inside you and he didn't have the sensibility or willpower anymore to stop himself.

He was quick all on his own to have everything to brew you moontea, he wasn't about to get reckless. Until you were both in the right place together, Jon would make sure part of taking care of you after was to make you some as you rested. Easing whatever parts of both your minds would worry if you became pregnant before either of you were ready.

But really, Jon wanted only to spill inside you, and when you couldn't take anymore then he'd paint your beautiful skin with whatever he still had left.

Robb Stark:

There are only two places Robb wants to cum, down your throat or inside your cunt. If some gets elsewhere then you look like a dream painted with his seed, but if he isn't cumming inside you, he wants it down your throat.

He would watch you swallow his seed and the man could almost orgasm again just from that sight and feeling. The knowledge that even just your stomach is filled with him, as much as he fills you with his cock, makes him lose his mind. And you swallow him so happily too, as if you love the taste of him and he suspects you are too embarrassed to admit you do.

But he also loves cumming inside you. At his core, Robb is a man dedicated to family, it means everything to him. And he wants every and any chance to start one with you, so he always wants to cum deep inside you as many times in a night as he an get away with. The more he does, the sooner likely you may find yourself pregnant.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:

It's not dirty, nor is it much of a secret really, but Jon sometimes wondered if you truly understood just how long he's been in love with you.

He knew Lord Stannis Baratheon's daughter was coming to serve as his fathers ward, but he didn't think much of it until the day you arrived. He and Robb were 10 and had been in the training yard. But his memory was so striking and vivid when his father had come by with this small 8 year old girl with scared eyes looking everywhere with uncertainty.

Robb was swinging a practice sword at him, and almost accidentally smacked him in the head, beacuse Jon had stopped paying attention since he was staring so much. When he realized who you were, he almost wanted to throw up at realizing he was going to have to spend months in the same home as you, beacuse he thought you were the prettiest thing he's ever seen.

When you had been introduced to Robb, you looked at him after and asked what his name was. He was nervous telling you he was a Snow, but as soon as you asked simply if he was the other son of Lord Stark which your father mentioned, he realized you had barrelled right past the fact that he was a bastard and just lumped him in the same place as Robb.

Jon hadn't ever said it, but he was pretty sure he fell in love with you then, and it never stopped for even a second after.

Post Resurrection Jon Snow:

Jon sort of has two secrets. One is more blatantly filthy, one is a little more serious. The serious one is something you think is only a joke.

He had told you once, that he had previously wondered when he was thinking of taking the black, if he should just take you far north instead. Leave, and build you a nice, warm home there where you could just be together. But in those dreams, Jon genuinely wanted children. He could see at least five, in that memory. Four little ones running around, and you swollen with his fifth child, beacuse who you two were didn't have to matter.

It was a sensitive subject for you now, and he would never even consider pushing before you were ready. But by present day when he would joke that his dream was up to ten children, Jon didn't know how to tell you that he wasn't really kidding. He never thought he would have a family, and now that he could with you, he wanted as many as you both could possibly have.

His second was blatantly filthy. Jon loved your breasts, perfect size for his rough hands and they were so sensitive. But Jon heard something from one of the free folk once, and now he held this dirty image of marking them up. Bruises and indents from his mouth and teeth until they turned colour, marking them right up until they were so sensitive you could tear up.

Then he wanted you to lay out on his bed, and he'd climb up over you and fuck them. Slide his cock in the space between your breasts and fuck them like he was inside you.

Then, just to finish the image, right when he was about to cum he'd pull back enough to make sure he coated both of your breasts in his seed, before grasping you again roughly to spread himself all over them.

Not in any life would Jon want to ask you for that, but it didn't stop him from thinking about everytime his teeth ran over the small buds on your breasts.

Robb Stark:

Robb has done it in small doses, tying up your wrists behind you, but Robb dreams of you letting him go a little more feral with it.

He wants you tied up all the way, at nothing but his mercy, can't move on your own, tie your pretty legs to the bed posts to keep you spread and your hands together up above your head. He'd blindfold you, too.

He wants to be so in control of everything that happens to your body in that scenario, without you even being allowed to see what he does, he wants you to trust him to such a degree you give up all your control left.

He won't ask you for that, he knows he'd be asking for something that's too extreme, so he does it in small doses. Makes you keep your eyes closed, ties only your wrists, only drags a small blade down a shift to expose your breasts when really if he could, Robb would do so much more. Maybe keep you standing in the middle of his bedroom, hang your arms up above your head with rope and cut off all your clothes like they're nothing to him. He has no idea where this desire has come from, but gods does he ever come up with new and inventive ways to ease you into every bit of it.

Maybe one day, you'll let him be enough of a animal, to just let him treat you like a pretty little slab of meat he can do whatever he wants with. Just once.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:

Not a shred of experience to be found. But Jon wasn't embarrassed about it.

He didn't care what others said about him, they didn't know Jon had you. Jon had been in love with you since he was 10, he never wanted any other girl that entire time, and he couldn't convince himself to look at one long enough to even try for a kiss. You and Jon were each others firsts. He was 18 by the time he kissed you that night in the wolfswood, and he was so happy he saved it for you.

After that, he dreamed of learning what you both liked together, and he enjoyed discovering all of it. You never went that far together, you both enjoyed taking it slow, but it was always at the exact same speed as the other.

So he'd let Theon make his jokes about him not being with a girl, Jon and you would get there when you both were ready.

Post Resurrection Jon Snow:

Jon knew his approach to physical intimacy with you was different now, but he didn't like thinking about why.

On one hand, he knew you had much more natural experience. You married Robb, he took your maidenhood, and he taught you everything you had learned of sex in the three and a half years you shared. But then you were the Boltons captive, and every single bit of confidence, every part of you that was growing comfortable with sex was destroyed, taken away from you by force at the hands of Ramsay. And in a horrible way, whatever confidence Jon had spent 6 years building with you, was taken away from him too.

Calling his time with Ygritte “experience” made him feel unwell. It wasn't that. It was survival. Jon knew in his time travelling with her, he had tricked himself into thinking it was normal. Pretended it was normal to never want it, pretended it was normal to actively feel such deep self hatred if his body even remotely enjoyed the physical sensations alone, pretended it was normal to actively find ways to avoid letting her near him if he could. He didn't want any of what Ygritte took from him, but that was all the experience in terms of sex that Jon had.

It was why he pushed so hard to do certain things, like putting his mouth between your legs, with you as often as he did. If he consumed his mind with doing it with you, it negated the force in which made him learn about it in the first place. It wasn't easy, and he still knew he was avoiding talking about the worst of it with you, but Ramsay had hurt you more then Ygritte forced him, and so Jon preferred to focus on taking care of your safety.

Robb Stark:

If he were to summarize it in simple terms, Robb would say girls liked him more then he liked the girls. He wasn't stupid, he understood it. Robb knew he was handsome. He was the eldest son of Lord Eddard Stark, and he was also the heir to Winterfell. Robb knew he had a charm to his attitude that swooped in the easy giggles from girls.

But Robb more enjoyed that in a playful manner then he did serious. Sure he had sex with some of them, a few of them more then once but he never really had feelings for them beyond surface level affection. Never enough that his father or mother even would've really met any of them except in coincidental passing. Hell, compared to Theon the two men used to joke, Robb may as well have the experience equal to that of a septa.

By the time he married you, he hadn't been with a girl physically in years, and even if he did, all it meant was he knew how a girls body worked a little better then most guys. He knew your body better then you did before he ever touched you though, considering how overwhelmed he made you on your wedding night.

You were always so innocent compared to him, that he knew it made you feel as if he had hundreds of girls before you. But in truth it had only been a handful. And more importantly, he had never been anywhere near in love before he married you, and so you were the only experience he cared about.

He didn't fuck you on your wedding night like he did other girls, he fucked you in a way he had carefully planned out that you would enjoy. His experience just meant that he went in with more confidence then not on your wedding night.

F = Favourite position (this goes without saying)

Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:

You two had never gotten that far, so he never really had a reason to think about what he preferred.

Jon did enjoy standing behind you when you two were alone, his hands gently trailing along your skin or under the collar of your dress. His hands rough and pulling gasps that you would bit your lip to prevent when he would twist and pull at the small pink buds of your breasts. Jon would always press his lips lightly to your neck, beacuse he loved how you would instinctual lean back into him. Rely on Jons firm stature to keep you standing on two feet as he eased you into his touch.

Maybe he was biased too, but if he were touching you more intimately, he liked having you sit on a surface as he stood between your legs. It was the way you two were positioned when he touched you for the first time out in the wolfswood, and he treasured that day a lot. He loved cupping your cheeks when standing before you like that, knowing as soon as he'd let one hand drift down your arm, you'd almost tense up in wonder if you'd feel his hand jump to pull the skirt of your dress up. Or if he'd simply wrap it around your waist to pull you more into his kiss innocently.

It wasn't a position of sex he liked about it, he just knew you associated it with the same afternoon he did, and Jon loved to tease you with his touch so you could only wait and see if he'd once more grace you with the experience again.

Post Resurrection Jon Snow:

There was no question Jon didn't just prefer missionary, he adored it.

Not a single other way he's taken you has Jon liked more or even anywhere near close to when he simply hovers over you with your legs gently spread for his body. One large hand hoisting your thigh up onto his hip while he felt your other leg move to almost wrap partially around one of his legs as if needing him to keep you steady flat out on the bed.

He loved taking you when you were nice and comfortable, spread out on his bed or on the furs in front of the fire in his chambers. He'd hover over you and be able to see every inch of you, move your legs either apart or over his shoulders when his mouth watered at the thought of tasting you. He could kiss you anywhere that way, and hold you down, as his strength meant he could keep you there as he kissed his way down to your cunt. And it also meant he could follow that path right back up and force you to taste yourself on his tongue while his other hand moved to sink his cock deep inside you. All the while, Jon could watch you and your eyes perfectly and you never had to do the work if he held you there. Just the way Jon wanted it.

Jon loved being able to control the pace he would fuck you at, ensure you were nothing but in deep pleasure. He could reach his hands up, interlock his fingers with yours and press them into the sheets. He could watch your face twist in pleasure, and your hands would tighten around his own fingers too, the closer you got. Or he'd let them go free, and you'd unknowingly claw your nails down his back as you arched into him as you came. He could bury his face in your neck or hair and the position meant he could go as fast or gentle as he wanted.

There was not a single thing which would beat how much he could focus on you when Jon took you in simple missionary.

Robb Stark:

He loves taking you from behind, and there is no way Robb could deny it. Nor would be bother to. He was a gods forsaken wolf about it.

The second time he ever fucked you, he had been apart from you for months. Now back, you were both going to war, you had just escaped Kings Landing and hadn't been with him since your wedding night. But he had spent so much of that time, letting his mind drift to you during his days, that finally seeing you again he almost jumped into it as if you'd been with him all that time. Theon had once commented that he could've mistaken you two for being married for decades, the way Robb would bring you up more then he ever had in the eleven years the men knew one another.

But then he had you back, in his bed as you raked your small hands through his curls that so gently woke him up, and more importantly, woke his cock up. He flipped you over, and as soon as you were on your hands and knees he yanked your hips so you basically were only lifted off the bed only by your ass, so he could fuck you from behind. The way in which you so willingly submitted to him in that position, how Robb could pound into you like that as fast and rough as he freely wanted, and all you could do was cry his name and take it.

You soaked his cock like none other when he had you on your hands and knees, and sometimes he'd shove a hand in your hair and hold your face down to the pillow and all you'd do was clench tightly around his cock.

He knew he was acting nothing of a gentleman, and his mother would be utterly ashamed that Robb would take his wife like a complete brute. But when you were bent over in front of his cock, giving yourself over to his mercy or lack thereof and would beg for more even when he was rough about it? It made him lose his mind.

Besides, Robb was quite blatantly obsessed with your ass and from that position, he could smack and grope it all he liked. But when you really lost yourself to his cock? Your own hips bouncing back on him the whole time he fucked into you? Well it would just make him run his mouth even filthier towards you for it.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? Etc.)

Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:

Goofy was not a word anyone had ever used to describe Jon Snow.

He was brooding, intense, he felt things very raw and that extended to you entirely. Jon would tease or smirk at the start when he'd kiss you, but the second it got a little more serious he dropped the act. He took your pleasure seriously, your mood seriously, and he didn't want his time with you to turn into a laugh when it was such limited time in the first place to have with you.

He loved to hear you laugh, don't get him wrong, but his physical time with you was limited, and it just wasn't the place he wanted to do that.

Post Resurrection Jon Snow:

If Jon was not a humorous man before, he was even less so now.

Both in life and sex, but it was more obvious when he was with you physically. Jon didn't even smile when he fucked you, not beacuse he didn't like it, or love you, but he felt nothing to be amused by. Sex was very serious to him, your safety and your well being couldn't be watched if Jon was goofing around or making you laugh.

He dedicated every ounce of focus to taking care of you, and he didn't like humour being involved there. Your safety was not funny to Jon. Sex with him was never goofy. It was intense, raw, and overwhelming for both of you. He had time to make you laugh later, that's what his words of teasing were for.

Not for the bedroom, though. Not now, not ever.

Robb Stark:

Robb would chuckle dark in what he know was a bit of a sadistic tendency towards you.

Would chuckle as you were a crying mess for him, or sometimes he would laugh at how you sounded begging for him, or gasping out that you love him. It meant you had him comfortable enough to drop the dominance enough to show the cracks of the mischievous boy underneath the rough man.

Even better was if he could make you laugh after sex, that was even better then during. He loved hearing you laugh, it was a gorgeous sound so many men would never hear in their lives. Robb loved that he was trusted enough with you, that you would let him hear you giggle like a little girl in the most venerable of moments of intimacy. He loved seeing you relaxed enough to feel that amused at anything.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? Etc.)

Jon Snow:

If there was a place in Westeros which that kind of personal grooming for men was common, the North wasn't it.

He didn't let it get out of control, but it wasn't as if smooth, clean cut men were the norm here, and Jon was not that anyways. His hair atop his head was long, wild, black, and thick and it was around his cock as well. Coarse and rough, more like his facial hair.

But at the least Jon did enough to ensure it was fair to you.

Always clean and trimmed enough that it wasn't out of control, but Jon didn't exactly put time into it. He didn't really care, only enough that was to treat you right.

Besides, if Jons cock was deep inside you, he knew when it was on the longer, wilder side, that coarse dark hair could brush against your clit and he knew the sensation was enough to make you grasp tightly around his shoulders and back. Once he learned that, he trimmed far less often.

After all, he knew you liked how much his facial hair could burn against your sensitive skin, so why would the hair around his cock be any different.

Robb Stark:

He won't lie to himself, Robb is sort of a classic Northern man in that sense. Body hair didn't feel like something he should be ashamed of. He wasn't a wild man around his cock, but he didn't trim as much as what he assumed fancy Southern men would like to do.

Tons of them in the Kings visit were clean cut, no facial hair to be found, and groomed all fancy, and Robb hated that his mother had his curls trimmed and face clean cut. She said it was for the Kings visit, but he knew it was supposed to be for you, even though Robb knew you liked him with facial hair. You had told him as such more then once before. But at least during the Kings visit, Jon had to suffer with him on that one.

The hair by his cock was dark, coarse, and unlike the hair on his head which tinted a Tully red in the sunlight, below his hair was as dark as it ever was. It was trimmed only enough that it wasn't obscene for you, but you also clearly didn't care that much. You sucked his cock no matter what state the hair around his cock was in, so as long as it was manageable he didn't think much of it.

Robb knew he fucked you like a wild beast, so maybe it made sense he kept himself groomed only slightly above one in return.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:

Jon doesn't have much of an active physical relationship with you, mostly due to the nature of keeping things secret.

The biggest part of what he can give you, is simply romance at its core. Gentle touches, soft hands, doing little things for you and always with low tones and comforting murmurs in your ear. Sometimes if he had you in his lap, then he could feel his heart tearing at him a bit, insecurity yelling as he doubts whether or not he's treating you well.

He wants you to be loved, no matter what he's doing and even though you both hadn't reached having sex, he's just as romantic about all the rest as he is when you're both innocent and fully clothed.

Post Resurrection Jon Snow:

Jon is as romantic in the moment as he is utterly intense.

His emotions are at an all time high when he's fucking you, and yet he feels almost terrified of letting you think he's anything but obsessed with loving you with all his heart. His touches are tighter, rougher, words harsher as they come out, but Jon will cling you to just as much as he knows you do him.

Sex is intense with Jon, and making sure you feel loved, safe and cared for is his biggest priority.

You've both had your share of being forced on by another person and Jon will do everything to ensure you never come close to that again with him. Jon knows he's addicted to you, worships you, he'd go to the ends of the earth and back for you. And if you don't feel that and more when Jon is inside you, then he would consider that a failure on his part.

He's raw and intense, but romance and intimacy is what he treasures with you now and he would do anything to ensure he never gives you less then that.

Robb Stark:

If Robb was aware of a massive problem he struggled with, it was that he tended to forget the romantic side of sex with you.

He loved you, he adored you in every single way, but Robb definitely was a bit on the rough, and hard dominant side when he fucked you. Rough attitude, degrading words, harsh and controlling touches and he didn't kiss you a lot during sex.

He wanted to hear you whine and beg and he couldn't do that if he were gentle and sweet. He could be the meanest parts of himself knowing that he would take gentle care of you the moment he was done.

You were the love of his life, he wanted to take you home and treat you like the actual Queen you deserved to be with him in Winterfell, but at war it was different. He wasn't always like that during sex, but it was common enough that he had a heavy heart knowing you trusted him to truly take care of you when you handed your obedience over to him like that.

Robb knows he is more of a man that thinks of sex as fucking rather then making love.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:

If you were in Winterfell, no, he didn't masturbate.

Jon wanted to spend time with you, treasure every chance he got to feel your soft skin, your beautiful lips against his. If you were in the North, Jon had no thought of it, beacuse he had everything he would be fantasizing about anyways. You slowly explored things together, so if you were right in front of him, that was enough. But you weren't always there.

He hadn't started touching himself thinking of you until nearing fifteen. But really, what else was a teenage boy, with a crush on his best friend, supposed to do? It happened more after he kissed you though, he was eighteen and exploring more of an appetite for things sexual in nature anyways.

When you weren't there he would try and hold off, but sometimes you were gone for so long that he couldn't help it. It wasn't ever as satisfying as even being near you like that, but it was all Jon had when you'd be away from him for months.

Post Resurrection Jon Snow:

Jon has you. He doesn't want anything else.

He came back to life, and only minutes after that did Jon slide his cock deep inside you for the first time, and he lost all interest in doing it himself then and there. He wanted you, your touch. Your wet, warm, and tight walls that clenched around him.

The only time he came close to masturbating anymore, was if he would bring your hand to his cock, covering it with his bigger one and help guide you to stroke him. But only ever until you felt confident to take over, otherwise any touch his cock got, he wanted it to be with you.

Masturbating just didn't interest him now. Jon had you, and he wanted you. Why settle for less then when he knew you wanted him as well?

Robb Stark:

Never once since you came back to him after escaping Kings Landing, did Robb not have you right there at his side. So in truth, Robb hadn't masturbated since you came back. What would he want that was better then his pretty little wife right in front of him?

When he was acting Lord of Winterfell, he admits he masturbated a bit more in the very dead of night then he used too. Partially the stress of everything, being away from his new wife after one night messed with his head on top of everything.

Robb would end up kneeling on the bed, grasping rough at what was supposed to be your pillow and stroke his cock. Through gritted teeth Robb would mutter as he did so how much he missed you, how much he wanted you back with him and how much he wanted to teach you beyond your first night together.

But then you were finally back, and Robb once more found no love for his hand when he had his pretty, needy little Queen ready to do whatever he said.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:

Without ever actually having sex, Jon didn't really have much of a concept of that kind of thing. He knew what he liked when you two were physical, but that level of sexual interest hadn't existed yet.

He had things he liked of course. He adored when you would run your hands through his hair, nails scratching along his scalp and giving little instinctual tugs when Jon would be a little more bold. He also knew he liked to take care of you, he liked making sure you felt good, and he loved to tease you until you might just pass out from a flustered embarrassment.

It was never in a context of genuine sex, but you and Jon learned together what you liked. You just didn't have the chance to take it that far.

Post Resurrection Jon Snow:

If you were to ask Jon directly, he'd say he didn't really have any kinks. But the more he'd think about you, the more he touched you it was clear there were some major ones.

Always making sure he was soft about it, and gentle as to not push you too far, but Jon loved being dominant with you. His entire life was at the bottom, out of his control and lacked any choice. But now? Now things were different, and you trusted him with your well being during sex and Jon took charge of that with immense responsibility.

He didn't like feeling not totally in control when with you, and dominance was the most natural way Jon presented himself during sex.

Jon didn't admit it to you, but he was obsessed with cumming inside you for a reason. He wanted to fill you with his seed constantly, over and over, keep it deep inside you until neither of you had anything left.

Jon would genuinely dream about keeping you tied to his bed, fucking you over and over, until you were with child.

Gods help him when he was with you, and his mind started to think about getting you pregnant. Because Jon didn't stand a chance of composure after that, all he dreamed of was you letting him spill inside you again and again until you swelled with his child.

And if that was a kink, then Jon absolutely had it.

Robb Stark:

Robb knows he can get a bit mean during sex.

He's dominant, very dominant. A strong, controlling weight on top of you that knows exactly how to order you around in the most pleasurable way for you. He gets off on being controlling dominant, and he also really gets off on how insanely obedient he's taught you to be.

You trust him so much that he could ask you to anything and you'd do it because you trust him to take care of you. It drives him mad how much you submit to him.

How he adores you with all his heart, but Robb degrades you like you're a whore in some brothel he's paying a copper for. And how much you love it. He so easily calls you a needy little slut, his whore of a Queen and you will whine everytime he hisses those things in your ear.

He also admits, that perhaps what helped him get used to being called a King, was hearing you say it as he fucked you. Having his Queen beg for her King to fuck her certainly made Robb learn he enjoyed it, at least as long as it came begging out of your pretty mouth.

L = Location (favourite places to do the do)

Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:

One might think his favourite place to be with you was the privacy of his own room, but it was really the opposite.

Jon had five siblings, three of the youngest which liked to barge in on him at any moment during the day, meaning anything he and you did in his room like that had to be very easily hidden.

Most of the time, you and Jon liked to just go for a ride on horseback for a while, and wherever in the wolfswood you would end up was where the most exploration you two had with the other. No one was around, the likelihood someone would find you exactly there was so minimal in the vast, large expanse of the not very populated North.

You both loved being outdoors like that, where no eyes would find you and you could be as close and affectionate with the other with total freedom.

Post Resurrection Jon Snow:

Jon has two similar favourites, and a guilty pleasure.

Mostly, he loves taking you in his room. Either he wants to lay you out on his own bed where he can climb over top of you and take you as many times as he wanted, or Jon would do so as you were both bare on the fur in front of his fire. His room always ran cold, but between the heat of the fire he diligently would tend to, and the quite warm temperature of Jons own body heat, even on the coldest nights he could have you sweating if he fucked you in front of the fire for long enough.

He loved the intimacy, the freedom of fucking you where was the most personal to you both, and now his position and title meant being barged in on was unlikely. Jon would pull you into his arms, and let you tuck into his chest bare as anything as you fell asleep. If in his bed it was easier to cover you up. But if he laid with you after out on the fur, if someone walked in now, that was their fault.

He did however, have a more perverse pleasure in fucking you up against the Weirwood tree in the Winterfell godswood, the night sky all around. Jon loved taking you deep for only the unjudging eyes of the old gods to bear witness to his need for you.

Robb Stark:

If Robb is a traditional man in any way it's how he has no interest in fucking you anywhere but in his room, in his bed, or at least what tent acted for your room out in his army camp.

He's fine with people hearing you, if anything he hopes his men have had a few good nights with their own hand listening to the degree to which you whine and beg when his cock is pounding into you. But he never once would let them see even a glimpse. Not a chance.

One time Theon had walked in, and Robb got so mad at what he almost saw that the Greyjoy later swore Grey Wind was about to rip his head off. After that, Robb would have Grey Wind guard right outside your tent together, as long as he was there, no one came in for any reason.

The direwolf would come in to sleep when it was all over, but he kept guard so Robb could fuck you into the mattress as hard as he wanted without any more risk of someone seeing you so pretty as you took his cock over and over.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:

For a man who was terrified of getting you pregnant, Jon knew it was strange to get worked up watching you with children. So much of the time you were stoic and serious. But you were so soft and easy to smile with children that he couldn't get enough of it.

Much more specific, the first kiss you shared after each time you would return to Winterfell would work Jon up. You two always having to wait until the dead of night, and finally when he was able to kiss you after however many months it had been, it inevitably turned into you both kissing passionately for quite a while.

Jon had to learn how to be very controlled when he wanted you, knowing neither of you had the freedom of just being able to express that whenever you desired.

Post Resurrection Jon Snow:

Were you to strip Jon down to his bare essentials, he would honestly just be turned on by you at any time. It took mostly, for you to even be a thought in Jons head for him to want you.

Your soft eyes gentle smile and even more gentle and caring touches worked him up. Worse so, the more innocent your kiss, the more genuine your touch that wasn't sexual, it would make Jons cock the hardest the quickest.

You two were together and had the freedom to show it, Jon had no more reason to want to hide how much you made him want you. It definitely wasn't always sexual, but sometimes it was a struggle for Jon to not let it turn sexual.

He didn't want you thinking he saw you as an object to fuck, sex was something he trusted so much between you both that it was an extension of how much he loved and adored you. But it also meant, you made his cock stir more often now then Jon had likely even been hard in his entire previous life.

Robb Stark:

Jealousy was one of Robbs most blatant traits. He was so jealous of the way other men looked at you or spoke about you to the degree that it made him noticeably possessive.

But what made it so strong as a need to fuck you, was how little you noted or cared about any attention that didn't come from Robb. You ignored or didn't know what men were leering at you like, but the second Robb came over with rough touches and a strained voice he was so jealous, you'd ease it by instantly going to him with gentle words and a soothing, innocent touch.

He wants his men to hear you, because none of them with their whores visiting their own tents get from them, sounds anywhere near what Robb pulls from you for free.

You are the love of his life, and what turns him on too much is how easy it is for you to remind men of that just by your innocent dedication to his love in public. He would keep a hand on you, kiss you, be sweet with you in front of his men and you would get flustered over it but let him do it because you knew that's how Robb liked to treat you.

Robbs own jealousy was a motivator, but he also knew he was easily turned on by your continued ability to be so damned innocent.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:

You would tell him it's ironic, considering half of the time he spent with you in the training yard over the years was him knocking you into the dirt, but Jon would never do anything that would hurt you.

His touch was sure to always be gentle no matter what, and never too rough or demanding. He also knew that he didn't want to treat you the way he knew a lot of men treated women they were with. Or if he were honest, the way Jon reluctantly knew Theon was with women. You shared a stretch of corridors with Theon where your own chambers were and thus you and Jon spent much time when in your chambers, coping with what was inevitable to hear.

Jon didn't want to be harsh and vulgar, treat you in a way that would make you feel as if you were just like a whore in a brothel he paid for. You had brought up, or tried to nervously bring up something you'd heard about from one of the girls around and Jon shot it down.

He knew somewhat of the girls you meant, and a few of them worked the brothel just outside the castle walls in Winter Town. And Jon just didn't want to treat you the way most men treated those women.

Post Resurrection Jon Snow:

A lot of his previous turn offs remained the same. Only now, Jon had to work on his own intense possessiveness versus his needs. He was a lot rougher with you now, and he had to consciously remind himself that he didn't want you to feel used.

He didn't fuck you hard like that beacuse he wanted to treat you that way, Jon would just lose himself in how you felt around his cock. But it all tied into not liking to feel out of control. He struggled to let you suck his cock, beacuse he would too easily lose control and overwhelm you by going too rough.

Jon didn't like being out of control, but he knew he was lucky that you did not want to be the dominant one in bed, as much as Jon did not want to be the submissive one. It worked well, you trusted to hand your safety over to Jon and he got to be the one to take care of you entirely. He wasn't really much interested in the opposite, he didn't want to be ordered around or told what to do, not for this, not with you.

He knew he had to work on how intense and rough he would get, but Jon sometimes just didn't realize how rough he was getting. You never seemed to dislike it, but he didn't want you thinking you were just here for someone to fuck. He loved you, he adored you, and he wanted to be the one to take care of you.

Anything less then being in charge, Jon just wasn't interested in anymore. If he ever really was in the first place.

Robb Stark:

Robb really only had two hard limits for himself. He didn't want to fuck you with any risk that someone was going to see you, and he refused to do anything that would genuinely hurt you.

He went rough and played dirty but not once did Robb like the idea that you could get hurt by his hands. You trusted him with your safety in bed and Robb would always take that responsibility with the heavy weight it deserved. He knew your limits and would never push you, if he thought he was at risk he would stop.

Check in with you, gauge what kind of response you gave and decide if he needed to ease up for your sake or not. Robb would slap your ass until it was red and painful, but only beacuse you liked when he did it. That smacking would never go anywhere but your ass, and maybe your cunt when you were being particularly needy.

Otherwise his biggest no is having anyone see you. Again, he ended up having Grey Wind stand guard outside his tent anytime he intended to fuck you, just to make sure the King in the North was given the proper time with his pretty little wife that he needed without interruption. You were his, and he wanted none of these men in his camp to have a chance at seeing you no matter what he teased with.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:

It was ironic that you ended up being the one married with more experience, considering that Jon knew you had so little idea about sex it almost was endearing.

He had joked once that if your chambers were by Theons, how did you still know so little about sex. And you'd shove him all flustered, muttering that just beacuse you could hear sure as hell didn't mean you listened.

You had come to him one day about taking his cock in your mouth, and Jon knew you had learned it from those girls who worked in and around the Winter Town brothel. You weren't a whore he was paying for, he didn't want you on your knees like they would for any brute who had a copper to spare.

He had known somewhat about tasting a girl between her legs, but by the time he heard about it, you weren't graced with enough time for him to even try and bring it up. It was a story Theon had told when he, Jon, and Robb had a little too much wine one night. Robb had shoved the man and gotten up to find a tree to piss on, leaving Jon to listen to a drunk story but he was far too unconfident to ask a single question about it. By the time Jon might have wanted to bring it up to you, you had to leave for Kings Landing and wouldn't return until you did with the royal company to marry Robb.

And that was the end of anything he assumed.

Post Resurrection Jon Snow:

If Jon could abuse his new title, and simply order you to not suck his cock anymore, he might have. But that was too authoritarian, and way too controlling.

The issue for him was, Jon didn't like being the one not in responsible control, and he was too wild and unpredictable when you took his cock in your mouth. Jon would much rather live and die between your legs.

It was one of the first things he did when he had come back, and maybe that turned it into an addiction. Jons mouth watered at the very thought of tasting you, and he a time or two had done it for a few hours continuously beacuse he truly couldn't convince himself to leave. He never tasted something like the wetness he would drink from you, and he never would anywhere else. It was like an oasis crafted for him alone.

Sure, it felt unbelievable when you sucked his cock, but if he was going to lose control he'd rather it be with his mouth attached to your cunt where the most pushing he could do was shock you from too much pleasurable stimulation. Rather then pushing your safety and your anxiety too far, with his cock in your mouth when he knew it could go from enjoyable to unpleasant for you in a second.

Robb Stark:

There was no point in lying about it. Robb lived for you sucking his cock.

It was one of the first things he fantasized about still during your wedding night. He imagined guiding your mouth over him so often when you and him were separated after the wedding, that when you came back to him, it was the first thing he properly did with you. Had you suck his cock like a good girl, and ever since he was obsessed.

How well you did, how much you truly, desperately wanted to be able to take all of him, how you'd close your eyes and barley realize you were letting out hums of moans and needy whines the more you sucked him. He'd guide your head at his own choice of pace, and he loved filling your stomach with his seed as if that was all you needed to live off of.

He'd known somewhat about putting his mouth on you, but by the time he had wanted to try, you two were at war and there just wasn't a whole lot of places to figure out what he'd be doing properly, and he wasn't about to go asking whatever whores his soldiers hired, to ask how to taste his own wife. That, and Robb didn't want to make you feel nervous by introducing something so intimate, and so brand new to you so suddenly.

He desperately wanted too, but it was just something he didn't know quite how to bring up to you yet.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? Etc.)

Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:

Without ever having sex, pace wasn't exactly something Jon payed attention to. The rate in which your actual relationship developed was slow.

You had known each other for fourteen years, been together for six by the time you both wanted to try having sex, and even then you both realized neither of you were ready.

Everything he did with you was slow, he didn't rush, he didn't push, and he made sure everything he did do, was gentle. Exploring exactly what you liked, and making sure you felt loved when doing so. Something more of an urge in him sometimes whispered in his ear to go faster, or rougher with you but he could push that down easy. In your minds at the time, you both had all the time in the world.

If it all took a slow, loving pace to get there, then so be it. Or so you both once thought.

Post Resurrection Jon Snow:

Jon tries to be gentle, he really does.

He often starts out slow. A loving gentleness rooted in how heavy you make his heart feel, but the more into it Jon gets, the more of something of a darker animal inside him does he let out.

He never contains himself the entire time, it's impossible. At some point, even if just right at the end, Jon will end up pounding his cock into you fast like a true wolf with his mate . Whatever dark, needy filth locked away in his head accidentally pours out in a deep husk in your ear beacuse he can't stop it.

Don't get him wrong, its passionate, intimate, and always ensuring you feel safe, loved and protected, but once Jon can hear how wet you are each time his cock sinks into you, its the beginning of the end. That's music to his ears, and he returns such a harmony right back. Fucking into you rough enough that anyone within 50 feet can probably hear how loud and rough of a slap Jons hips rutting into yours becomes. If the slap of your skin together echos in his ears, hes likely already too deep into the darker part of his mind to slow down.

He would never push you too far, never once. But Jon is unpredictable. He can start slow, sliding his cock almost all the way out before pushing himself back in as deep as he can, all the while you feel every inch of him beacuse he's just going that slow. But eventually, he picks up the roughness, and right near his final orgasm, that slap of skin becomes a steady smack as he rushes himself towards being able to cum one last time deep inside you.

But Jon knows his limits, and he is always hyper aware of how close he's getting to pushing you to yours and never once in his life will Jon ever actually cross that line. He'll get right up to it as close as can be, but never will he even slightly tip over into pushing you too much.

Robb Stark:

If there ever was a man who was a real wolf in the bedroom, it was Robb.

Slow was saved for when he used his fingers on you, and that was it. As soon as that man gets his cock inside of you, it's done. He is fucking you rough and fast until you are soaking his cock around him in a desperate cry.

Hes slow when he's in your mouth, beacuse he knows that's something you both enjoy, and he doesn't want to hurt you by pushing you too far, but your cunt is another story. Robb will fuck you fast to the point you can barley catch your breathe before he's pounding back inside of you.

The slap of your skin together is telling of how rough he goes, and the men have sometimes joked they're shocked you can ride a horse the next day, let alone bloody walk. Sex with Robb is fast and dominating, and he is happy to slow down and take his time doing everything else with you, just not when your warm cunt is clenching around his cock.

He knows if he could take you home to Winterfell, he'd be much better. He'd take you slow, take his time with you, but you were both out at war and he didn't have the luxury no matter how much Robb wished he could take you gentle and slow.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:

When Jon thought about in in retrospective, it might have been the perfect time for you two to have quickies.

Always in secret, never having as much time as you both deserved with the other. Were you two actually having sex, fucking you fast and quick would have been optimal. But as it stood, you never had sex. So you two never did anything even close to that.

But, in Winterfell? With his father, the household guard, Lady Catelyns judging eyes, and the varying rambunctious nature of Jons five siblings, having you quick like that would have been risky.

Someone would catch you. Anything you did had to wait until you knew you were alone. Hell, Jon once got a little too eager to gently kiss you one evening, and as it turned out, Arya had spotted you both in the stables, and that's how she found out. Jon trusted her not to tell, but he never took anything of that risk again.

In total private where he could take his time, or not at all.

Post Resurrection Jon Snow:

If you went to Jon right now and asked if he liked quickies, he'd say no. He would say he hates them. And that would be the biggest lie he's ever told in his life.

It's possible he was abusing his status as King in the North to do so, but if he were a little late to the meeting, no one was going to say anything. And he was far better at pretending everything was fine then you were, so if only Jon walked in, no one would know. Except Tormund. Somehow Tormund always could tell, and Jon would spend the next 20 minutes actively ignoring that prideful but amused glint in the mans eye.

But he loved quickies. Jon loved fucking you needing and fast. Finding an empty wall to shove you against, sinking deep inside you and overwhelming you in seconds to the point you were powerless to do anything but let Jon take you. The way you'd cling to him in those seconds after, knowing this was all you had for now when normally Jon would kiss and hold you tenderly. It just made you needier for that later.

He never would admit it, saying he only wanted you when he could take his proper time and care. But the amount of times Jons almost gotten you both caught, beacuse he desperately needed to fuck you out of nowhere, was starting to stack up quickly.

Robb Stark:

One man truly and honestly hates quickies with all his being, and his name is Robb Stark.

If he has to fuck you quick, he's not going to do it and that is without exaggeration, the end of that. Robb wants to take you apart, he wants to ruin you for hour and hours until you have nothing left but his cock inside you, and then he'll build you back up like the Queen you are. That takes time, and patience.

Robb almost gets more worked up the more he cums, he hates the idea of fucking you quick in the middle of the day. Robb has things to do, he can control himself long enough to just get over it if he wants you. Part of it goes hand in hand with not wanting anyone to see you or come close to catching you, since Robb has no shred of privacy to touch you outside the isolation of your tent at night.

You're the love of his life, he wants to make sure you never question that fact. He may whisper in your ear like you're a whore in a brothel, but he won't fuck you like one. Not like he's here to throw a copper at you, cum and then leave. He hates that idea, it doesn't even appeal to him.

Robb wants you proper, in a bed, where he can fuck you hard, and then show you how much he loves you. He can't do that if he just ruts inside of you like an animal, roughly against a wall in the middle of the day.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? Etc.)

Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:

Technically, Jons entire relationship with you was the risk. He was a bastard, you were a highborn girl and niece to King Robert of all people. You were supposed to be courted by men like Robb, not a bastard with nothing to offer you but his heart.

He didn't try any experimenting or risk taking in sexual terms beacuse you two didn't have that freedom. The risk, was what Jon already did.

The risk was that night in the pouring rain in the wolfswood. He was 18 and you were nearing 16, he and his brother would hunt you and Theon in the wolfswood and see who could make it until midnight without being caught by the two wolves who knew this land like the back of their hands.

It was close to the end, Theon had been caught and Robb had given up once the rain started, so it was only Jon and you left, and Jon had finally caught you. Grabbed you from behind and held you to his chest with a low rasp of his victory, teasing in your ear.

He didn't know at first if you understood why the air changed. You were younger and certainly more innocent then him, but you were suddenly nervous enough that Jon felt confident it wasn't just him anymore. You tried to run, escape the way the air between you two changed to something heavy you didn't understand, but Jon didn't want this to stop. If you left now, he may never be confident enough again. So he grabbed you once more, tossing your back against a tree to make you stop running. You were soaked from the rain, eyes so wide and bright with lips just slightly parted in confusion, and it was too much for him to hold back.

It was the biggest risk Jon ever took, but he moved quick. Cupping both of your cheeks and leaning down to press his lips to yours. But the fact that you arched right up into him? Kissed him back eagerly and wrapped your arms around the back of his neck?

Jon knew there was no risk of him getting caught being with you that could outweigh how much this one payed off that night.

Post Resurrection Jon Snow:

Risks were half of what Jon took now. Risk this fight, risk that battle but none were more worrying then every risk he took with you.

At every turn since having you back, it felt as if something threw a new test between you at every opportunity. Put on question how much Jon could protect you, and too many times did he not know how to stop it.

But, if there was a solace, it was that risks were only not unwilling to be taken when it came to taking you. Neither had done much and Jon fantasized about more and at every turn, he was fairly certain you would want what he wanted. He worried about it, worried that he was too rough, was too demanding, his intentions too forward but each time you came back to him with as much eagerness as the first time.

He knew he was gaining advice from either the best or worse sources, as the free folk around him all spoke rather blatantly about the sexual things they had done. Some of which Jon barley heard of, most of which Jon knew you had never known existed. And it took some work to tell himself not to try everything, but he certainly thought about them. Would hear the men go on about it, and just as he wondered why do it if it wasn't good for the woman, he'd hear just that other side from them and suddenly Jon learned far more about ways in which he could take you that you might enjoy, then he ever imagined. And he was willing to do them all, as long as you liked the idea, and it didn't harm you?

Jon might never say that he wants those things, but if they came up between you, he'd want to do it in a heartbeat.

Robb Stark:

One may think Robb would be a risk taker considering the degree to which he can fuck you any and everyday with his dominating mind and desires. But in truth, he doesn't like to take risks with you. That scares him, no matter if it's innocent or sexual in nature.

You're his wife and he came so close to losing you the way the Lannisters murdered his father, should Ser Barristan Selmy not have helped you to escape Kings Landing.

Taking new risks with you, while can be fun to playfully bicker about when you are naked in his lap as he keeps his cock sunk deep with a silent hope he's helping his seed take, he rarely will introduce anything that would be considered one.

You both are at war, you fight by his side in battle, that's more risk then Robb ever wanted with you, and he won't do any more beyond what you two already have.

He wants you home in Winterfell, swollen with his child before the proper start of Winter, he doesn't want to risk you in anyway that delays that anymore. He knows it's a big paranoia considering how much you trust him with your body, but Robb knows what your limits are and what his limits are and he refuses to go beyond those in any capacity.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:

Jon didn't have much way of gauging what he'd be like with you, at least in that manner. Much of what you two had done could've taken of their time and wasn't too taxing on either of you.

He'd draw it out as much as he could for you, and on the nights he managed to be weak enough to have you perched on his lap in his bed, he wasn't really aware of the time which passed. Of course, the time that passed sometimes went well over two hours without realizing. Sometimes he'd cum, but he could keep going after, likely the most he had in one night with you was three, but again, it wasn't quite direct touch and he had no way of knowing what being inside you might be like.

On his own, where he'd have too much of you he missed and no way to see you? It depended on how worked up he was. If he was mostly just horny, he could look to a memory of you and not last long and be satisfied.

But on nights he really missed you, he'd take out a stashed article of clothing of yours that he kept close. Grey eyes drifting to a letter of yours, and trying to read it and hear your voice in his head. Bracing a hand on the stone wall near his window, and the other on his cock, Jon could keep himself that consistently worked up for at least an hour straight on those nights.

Post Resurrection Jon Snow:

Whether it was always in him to be like this with you, or if something about returning to life changed aspects of himself, Jon didn't know. But he could last for longer and stay hard so much longer then most men.

Jon could cum four times in a row and still be as hard and desperate as before the first. As long as something of his cock was inside you, Jon seemed to be able to last as long as it took to wear you out. His cock having that aggressive drive to fill you until he was empty just so he could do it all over again the next night. Hours it would last.

That night in the Ice Cells of Castle Black, Jon had no concept of how long he had been fucking you, but it was certainly past the hour mark by the time he pressed your back into the floor.

Again, Jon knew there was something not normal about the degree of his stamina, judging by the fact that he could spend hours fucking you so much that you practically would pass out in his arms, and Jon still would lay you down under the furs of his bed, telling himself that he can't just take you when you're this sensitive and already falling asleep.

If you truly tested his resolve, Jon would start at sun down and still be taking you by sun up. He'd need good few rests of a couple moments in between, for you and him, but it wasn't as if he needed much recovery time. On a good night, Jon wouldn't even get anywhere less then still more then half hard when pulling out of you until you two were fully exhausted.

Robb Stark:

Gods be good, the more Robb cums, the longer he can go it seems. You'd think he actually gets more hard after each time he cums inside you.

He has to rest in between, normally beacuse he knows he is rough on you and he doesn't want to accidentally push you from sensitive to in pain, but once the dust has settled? He's ready to go and Robb will tell you to just lay there and take it like a good girl if you're too tired to do the work.

He's perfectly content with doing the heavy lifting in bed for you, doing the hard work beacuse this is nothing compared to the hell outside your tent.

There are some nights his men are fully aware neither their King nor Queen got a wink of sleep, beacuse the guards near his tent could hear you both all night without exaggeration. If something could magically give Robb more energy when it made no sense, Robb had found that magical source in sinking his cock deep inside you.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:

Jon hadn't even gotten his cock inside you for the first time, he certainly wasn't about to let some pleasure toy get there before him.

He didn't really see the point as well, but he considered that maybe since he's a male, he might be unfairly overestimating the ease in which women would pleasure themselves. Men were a no brainer, but Jon had to take his time learning to fine tune your pleasure like a delicate instrument and toys might help in that capacity alone.

But he knew you didn't even realize such a thing existed, and he wasn't about to introduce that to you when he himself didn't like the idea.

Post Resurrection Jon Snow:

Not a chance.

You had a significant amount of trauma behind you now, and thus you trusted Jon to take every step of the way to ensure you were safe and alright. Jon had no interest in using anything like a toy on you, he wanted to feel you, he wanted you to feel him.

Neither of you liked fucking in a way together with little physical contact and using a toy felt so lacking of intimacy. So lacking of passion. He couldn't gauge how you were feeling, or if you were close with a toy. Jon knew where you were at by the tiniest of clenches of your cunt around his cock or fingers and he'd never know with some toy inside you.

You wanted him, not something just used by him. And Jon wanted you, he wanted to feel you not just watch you get that feeling alone.

Robb Stark:

He wouldn't consider them toys, but he has tied you up before. Not much, just by the wrists but he wouldn't say that was a toy.

He knows what toys are out there and he dismisses that idea. What would something not real do for you that Robb couldn't give you himself in droves. He already has a cock that drives you insane, he has long fingers that reach your sensitive walls beyond what any toy could provide you.

Robb wants to tie you up more, blindfold you even but that was more of a, he wants you to trust him even more, sort of thing, rather then he wants to get wild with what he fucks you with. He wants what he introduces into sex to be a tool to help make the sex more pleasurable for you, not something to act as the sex itself without him.

Robb recalled once asking Theon what the point of them was, and having a good laugh between them that it's probably just what some Southerners invented beacuse their too boring with small cocks to actually pleasure a woman with what they barley have themselves.

And judging by how much you are utterly weak for Robbs touch, he would consider that to be likely more true then not.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:

Jon had to be subtle about it, but he was relentless.

Knew the exact look to give you to make you stiffen up and hide how flustered you could get. Knew just how briefly of a touch of his hand across your lower back as he passed in public to make your breathe hitch. Jon of course, also teased you just in words. He was quite good at teasing you at all stages of your friendship together but he was sadistic once you were were involved.

Some teasing was normal, others sounded more biting and mean to people around when you knew he was just trying to get you worked up. Get you annoyed, so that he could feel you melt against him later when he finally kissed you at your most irritated at him, and tease more that you were quite predictable.

This passed to touch as well, the first time he pleasured you was simple. A nice, exploration of his fingers on your clit as he worked out what you liked best, and just as he payed attention to what it is you about to cum looked and sounded like, did he pull away. Then he worked you up and did it again as you almost whined.

He loved it, he loved keeping you on an edge that had you not being able to do anything but rely on his touch, before he took it away at the perfect moment.

Post Resurrection Jon Snow:

Gods be good, he is one of the seven hells sent directly to torment you. Jon no longer has to be subtle or secret, he can just tease you. It doesn't matter.

He doesn't act that way in public, no. But he doesn't need to hide his wants, desires, intentions. No, Jon can work you up in seconds and just keep you dangling over a free fall all day long. It's in his words, they aren't filthy, but they are needy. He wants you and he tells you, but he won't take you. He saves it, and torments you with his own patience.

He some days, won't let you cum. Gets you right there, and takes it away. Sometimes more then once in a row, and many times, he will keep you like that for days. Some times he teases you all the same the next night, sometimes Jon takes your orgasm away at the last minute in one overwhelming night and will just leave you like that for a week.

He loves it. He loves keeping you that way, keeping you needy for him, that the second his voice rasps low in your ear, you shiver for him.

If teasing you in and out of the bedroom could be a feat worth crowning one of, Jon would've been a King months earlier.

Robb Stark:

Robb wishes he had the patience to tease you, he does. But he doesn't.

He does it in small doses, will yank you to him and whisper that he wants you naked in his bed when he returns or that he expects his good girl to show her king her appreciation later that night. But it doesn't tease beyond that really.

He prefers to take his time with you, and teasing you like that doesn't really fit into that mindset for Robb. If he wants you, he wants you then so why would he tease you for later? Part of it stems from how much you are by his side. Robb constantly has you beside him, often with a hand on you somewhere. Leaving a kiss to your hair, or a gentle kiss as he runs his thumb along your cheek in front of his men beacuse he needs you to breathe more then the air around him.

Robb doesn't want to tease you more then the little bit he does, he just wants you. And out in a war, there isn't a worse place he could think of to be a tease. He will work you up as much as it takes for you to know he wants you in his tent that night before it got too late to take care of you, but he has no patience for teasing beyond that. He already has you, he doesn't want to waste that time.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:

If he and you are in the castle in Winterfell? Jon tries his best to be very quiet. He wasn't loud, more of a growl or a hiss at the sensation.

But sometimes a deep gutted groan could leave him, and that certainly was not common enough of a sound from Jon to pretend it wasn't for something filthy.

He had one trick though once he and you got comfortable enough. Jon would yank down the front of your dress, usually pulling your arms from it or unclasping it enough so it pooled around your waist, and occupy his growls or grunts with his mouth on your breasts. It was the most perverse thing the two of you would do, but it kept Jon quiet, while his other hand honestly? Well if his mouth wasn't hiding your high pitched, beautiful gasps and whines in his kiss, he'd reach a free hand up and roughly cover your mouth as you grasped at his wrist with both hands. Burying in each other to hide the sounds of your sinful secret together.

If you two were out in the wolfswood alone, it was a bit easier. Jon would let himself rumble deep, and freely encourage your breathless gasps with a gentle press of his lips over your cheek, forehead, neck, whatever he could reach.

Post Resurrection Jon Snow:

Take that growling and grunting, and multiply it by a hundred. Jon once more, knows he no longer has any need to hide what you two do. No one cares that he has you in his bed, and so no one who could even hear through the thick stone walls that muffled much noise, would think twice.

They knew you two were together, it didn't matter now.

Jon could growl and hiss as you clenched tight and soaked around his cock, bite at your neck until he could rasp deep and strained in your ear, as he spoke the first things on his mind usually much more needy and filthy then he intended.

If he was trying to be discreet, he would bury his mouth into your neck with kisses, licks, bites, sucking rough bruises into the skin and it would cover the deep noises from within. But in turn it made you gasp and cry for him so loudly that everyone would hear anyways.

Jon wasn't really a talker, not with sex especially. The closer his orgasm got the more his heart rambled, but it wasn't intentional. He spoke from his deep desire for you with raw intense honesty. All in between rough breathing to keep him collected, only to feel that hiss or growl in his chest at how beautiful you felt around him.

If no one heard you two in low tones though, many would simply be able to hear the smack of skin as he fucked into you rough, or the hard bang of a table slamming against a wall, if he took you somewhere more public.

Robb Stark:

At the most dense, Robb has had an army camp of almost thirty thousand men at the start of the war, when he had joined with the River Lords. If someone had told him that all thirty thousand men had heard Robb and you fucking at night, he'd smirk with pride and say he hopes they got off nice and hard to how perfect you begged and pleaded for your Kings cock.

Robb is a talker in bed, he runs his mouth as filth pours out. In return, you cry and moan and beg for him, and it all is a harmony of filth that he knows so many men by now have heard from you and him.

Robb doesn't moan, he growls and he groans rough when he's deep inside of you, his voice normally warm and soothing dropping to a strained roughness that scratches at your ears as much as it soaks you between your legs as well. Robb knows just what to say to make you an obedient little mate, and he takes full advantage of that the entire night.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Jon Snow:

If the only thing Jon was allowed to do for the rest of his life was kiss you, he'd never have a single thing to complain about. Last life or this one, Jon was addicted to your lips.

The way they were so soft, moulded to his perfectly, how sweet they tasted and how much you let his tongue explore your mouth with strong desire. He adored having his lips on you somehow, and the only thing that changed one he came back was he could now do it without fear of being caught. But the love for it stayed the same.

Kissing foreheads was something he always did with everyone, his brothers and sisters and you, but what was different is how rare it was that he gave you any passing kiss alone. A brush of his hand, lingering too long and getting too close to your lips when he pulled back.

To Jon, kissing you is practically a hobby. He finds his lips to you in some way constantly, and if he's inside you then he adores keeping your lips pressed to his. He loves to cum deep inside you, keeping your lips trapped against his kiss. Jon wishes to hear your moans, and swallow them into his own mouth, just so he can lick into yours and demand more sounds gifted into him.

If Jon would be able to say he has one talent, he was confident enough to say he's quite a good kisser. And he wants all of that to go to none but you. Jon kisses you more, then an entire brothel of whores will kiss all their paying men in their entire lives.

Robb Stark:

Telling you now would be so unfair, he knew. If he said it now, the man wasn't there to defend himself or refute it, and beacuse of that, he didn't want such a comment to change your view of your best friend.

But Robb was not stupid. Robb was more observant then he was likely given credit for on this one, but it didn't bother him so he didn't bring it up to a soul, not him, and definitely not you.

He didn't know the true extend of how strong it was, or if he had feelings, or for how long he felt this way. Robb didn't know those details, but he knew without any doubt, that in one way or another, Jon Snow wanted you.

He had suspected it for a while since your last visit. The way Jon would look at you, was so much more then the man thought he was giving off. He was so brooding and grouchy the month before you arrived with the Kings company, and Robb truly felt bad. Here Jon was, desperately wanting to fuck you, his best friend, only to now watch you get married to Robb.

But now, Jon was at the wall, and you were Robbs wife. Telling you now would just be rude, and a breach of trust that Jon didn't know Robb had been holding onto. But the real thing that he wasn't saying, was that if for some miracle, Robb won the war, and brought you home to Winterfell, he had seriously considered it.

Either Robb would get lucky enough to find a way to bring his brother home where he belongs, or Jon would simply come visit, the way their Uncle Benjen came to visit their father. There was no harm, you were Robbs wife after all, that wasn't breaking a vow.

But Robb couldn't help but wonder, if he could at the least get Jon to come visit from the wall, he wondered how easy it would be to convince his brother to fuck you. Now, Robb wasn't just handing you over to his brother, but just maybe, Robb wondered, Jon might be open to sharing at least some parts of you, if just your body.

Robb held out hope he could bring you home one day, and just maybe, find enough in his jealous heart to share at least something of you with Jon. He was at the wall after all, and you were his best friend.

It wouldn't be much, but maybe the wall would be a little less lonely for his brother, if Jon were to go back with the freedom to know what it felt like to slide his cock into his best friend's sweet, soaking cunt, and more perversely, how it felt to willingly fuck his brothers wife.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Jon Snow:

Jon had an ongoing joke with Tormund, just taking any opportunity the free folk could find to make some comment about how small Jon was.

It had stemmed from a nickname which Tormund called him all of his own choosing anyways. The tall, lumbering man with wild orange hair, thick beard and loomed over most. He would joke and call Jon "Little Crow", and that turned right into jokes about his size. But in honesty, that was the furthest from the truth.

He didn't quite realize at first if he was well endowed, Jon having little to no interactions that would end up at discussing cock size, all he knew was the nights he'd help guide your clothed self over his covered cock, at his most hard Jon knew he would sometimes feel you shake, hold tightly onto his shoulders and try to hide the nervous exhale at the feeling. Well, if the free folk were anything, it was not shy about that sort of aspect of them. Only realizing internally that there weren't quite many who matched up to him.

He was long, yes. And it showed even when he wasn't at all hard, how long he was. But it was how thick his cock was that was the intimidating factor, at least in terms of fucking you. His cock was long, but adding just how shockingly thick his girth was, he always left a stinging burn when he slid inside you.

Jon was just lucky that you craved that very feeling as much as he wanted to give it to you.

Robb Stark:

Robb has a distinct memory of when he had sex for the first time, how the girl afterwards when getting dressed, made a comment that for someone whose never been inside a woman before, Robb knew how to use a cock like that.

At the time Robb just wanted to put his clothes on and leave, but she then kept going. Saying that most men with a big cock were idiots, and that Robb fucked like a man who was compensating for a small one but without the small part. He didn't care about that until he married you. Then suddenly, Robb was all too aware that yes, he was well endowed and knew how to fuck.

Because now you were his little innocent wife about to take her first cock, and it was long and thick. He had kept your eyes on his when he finally undressed so you didn't get intimidated, only to then make you watch as he slid inside you for the first time, so you understood how much you were taking inside you.

He knew you would feel that sting the next day constantly from his size, but that just meant Robb knew he needed to work you up and make you wet as could be to reduce the chance of his thick cock hurting rather then being a perfect pleasurable amount of pain.

Though, Robb would admit, he got off way too much at how wide his cock stretched your pretty mouth when you sucked him.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:

Sex wasn't something he thought of all too often. Honestly, most of Jons sex drive in those days were also tied simply with how much he missed you.

He felt more worked up about being with you when you were in Kings Landing and he couldn't do a single thing about that. He never told you just how often he'd read your newest letter to him, sitting it on his desk, bracing one hand against the stone wall in front of him and stroking his cock with the other as he read it. Trying to hear your voice, pretend as if he knew what your hands on his cock would feel like, pretend he had any clue what being inside you could feel like.

He ruined a few of your letters with that habit, not that he ever said it to you. But it was just something desperate really. He felt lonely without you.

When you were in Winterfell, he wasn't that worked up. He knew his time with you had to be careful, and you two would enjoy the other to the fullest when you got away alone. But when you were gone, you weren't just the woman he loved. You were his best friend, and being in love with your best friend meant that a lot of how much he just missed you, ended up tying itself into how much he yearned to touch you.

You were so much more then just a woman he wanted to touch, but when you weren't there to calm him down with your mere comforting presence, Jon had no outlet but that.

Post Resurrection Jon Snow:

If putting gold on it, Jon would say he doesn't have a high sex drive. And if he did bet on it, he would wind up being the poorest man in all the Seven Kingdoms.

It wasn't out of control, Jon had a strong drive and focus as a leader, but he could take you any time of the day. He didn't ever not want you. Jon could control his want when he needed to, and that was easy but the moment he could find any excuse to take advantage of your alone time, Jon felt his need clawing at his chest like an animal desperate to rut.

He fucked you quick during the day all the time, beacuse he was always just that ready to take you, always wanted you even when he was skilled at never showing it. He didn't want you thinking he just wanted to fuck you like an object, you weren't a whore in a brothel he wanted to use.

Jon absolutely adores you, but both your pasts have made sex something a bit strangely tied to how Jon shows he loves you. A lot of sexual trauma sat between you two, you from Ramsay, Jon from Ygritte but together you and him were learning to move forward and find a healing together. That just meant learning that Jon was a wolf with a ridiculously large appetite, but it was always with love.

He didn't want to be without you, and sometimes the only way Jon, a brooding, stoic man of not many words, knew how to express that was to taste you, kiss you, and fuck you. It was a way to express his feelings as well as move together past something that still deeply haunted you both in your own ways.

But if you asked him, Jon would say he doesn't have a high sex drive, and Tormund and Theon who have to stand there and watch how ridiculously turned on Jon would get around you constantly, would just glance at the other with an exasperated shake of their heads at Jons degree of denial.

Robb Stark:

It was a bit complicated, essentially, Robb only had much of a sex drive when he knew he had time.

First leading a war, then becoming their King and having so much of the Lannister regime fighting against him alone that he had to split his mind into two. If he was thinking about the war, he didn't want to distract himself, and you were a perfect Queen by his side and knew exactly when Robb wanted to focus.

But then at night, when it was quiet and Robb could have you all to himself, then he suddenly felt that drive come crashing through the walls of his tent and bombard him. Once alone, you worked Robb up to wanting to fuck you in seconds. You just had to look at him alone in your tent and Robb was already almost fully hard, you made it so easy.

Sun down to sun up, Robb wanted you again and again and he could think of nowhere else he wanted to be then with you, and inside of you. You were his perfect girl, and your drive matched his perfectly too. You always wanted each other at the same time, so once Robb wanted to fuck, you were ready to hand yourself over to his cock and his mercy or lack there of, depending on the day.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Pre Resurrection Jon Snow:

Jon never slept very well. Always would either wake up and be unable to go back to sleep, or he couldn't fall asleep in the first place. And in truth, it left a lot of nights where all Jon wanted to do, was leave his room, go down the stairs to the corridors your room was in, and find his way into laying in bed with you. He'd imagine how gently he'd crawl in beside you, gently guiding you onto your side so he could pull your back against his chest and hold you tight.

But he couldn't do that, no matter what you two did, sexual or otherwise, as soon as you and Jon were with the other, falling asleep in the others bed was a bad idea. You or him would gravitate into the others gentle embrace fast asleep too unplatonically to explain it away should one of his siblings walk in.

Which Jon hated, considering during your first visit to Winterfell, you sometimes had difficult nights you couldn't sleep or a windy storm would blow through the castle and more then once you'd find your way to Jons room asking if it was alright if you slept in there, you feeling a bit nervous being in that corridor all alone.

So now, Jon would spend his nights with you, exploring you, kissing you and he'd have to part ways to sleep separately and he never slept more then 5 hours at the most after that. He missed having you close too much.

Post Resurrection Jon Snow:

Jon still didn't sleep well if you weren't there.

His bed too cold, his arms with nothing to pull tenderly into his chest, he couldn't lean over and press a tender kiss to your sleeping lips beacuse you were too beautiful to resist. He wanted you in his arms at night.

But when you two would fuck, Jon willingly didn't sleep for a while after as well. He'd run his hands gentle along you until you fell asleep, then he'd switch between watching you in more peace then you ever looked in your waking hours, or running his hands along your bare skin beacuse he loved how soft you were under his rough, large hands. On nights he wore you out particularly rough, you'd fall asleep so easily and he loved doing that for you.

You had nightmares now, more then you were ever willing to admit, and the more exhausted Jon made you with his cock, the better you slept after. And Jon liked to hold you, watch you sleep and ensure he was keeping you safe even now from the horrors in your own mind. And only when you had been quiet and peaceful for a good half hour to an hour, would Jon finally fall asleep.

You were the most vulnerable when you slept in his arms, and Jon was there to protect you. And he just liked staying awake to do that, getting some time to himself to admire you blatantly without you getting flustered over his loving gaze for so long.

Robb Stark:

Robb only slept well with you twice since marrying you.

Both of those times when you were in his bed in Winterfell after becoming his wife. Robbs room was decorative and the fabrics draped around kept the heat in well so it was always cozy in there, and under the furs of his bed. Robb never treasured a nights sleep more then the only two times so far he had in his bed with you as his wife.

He slept terribly in the war. Some nights he was so busy you couldn't even convince him to come and sleep at all, and you'd have to try again the next night. So when it was all said and done, Robb would lay with you asleep in his arms and be awake for a while. Longer then he was honest with you about.

He'd run through war strategy day after day, and at night try and piece together the life he wanted to bring you home to once this was all over. You didn't sleep well either, but as long as Robb fucked you, you slept better then he did and so he'd do it every night if it were that easy. When he did sleep, it was more what he wanted, being in bed with you in his arms, but Robb never got as much sleep as he would have, should he be able to bring you home safely to Winterfell.

#jon snow x reader #robb stark x reader #jon snow #robb stark #game of thrones #asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #jon snow x you #robb stark x you #jon snow imagine #robb stark imagine

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helen-with-an-a · 1 month

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The Object that stood in the way of a World Cup epilogue

Hi. So here is the epilogue to the story. These are 10 snippets of R and Ona's relationship. They do go in order, but they don't really have a set timeline (beyond the first 2 taking place in the 24/25 season); the idea is that they just happen over a few years. Also shout out the anon who guessed that yes, R does eventually know some Catalan

Ona Batlle x Reader

Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 : Part 4 : Part 5 : Epilogue

TW: Suggestiveness, Smut (that isn't really smut but it's slightly more than suggestive if you get what I mean), mentions of previous mental health issues, Injury

Description: 10 moments throughout R and Ona's relationship

Word Count: 6.8k (I'm sorry it's so long but I hope you enjoy it)

First Match of the New Season

“Hola. Bon dia. Hey. Good morning. Bon dia.” Greetings were called as you walked into the building. You passed the media people, waving as you saw the camera pointed in your direction.

“Morning, kid,” Lucy said as you sat your stuff beside her. It was the first game of the season, and you were excited. You were told to be used as a sub around the 60th minute for the first few games, gradually building your strength and stamina. At first, you were a little annoyed. Still, after talking to the coaches, you knew they had your best interests at heart – come back from an injury that had you sitting in the stands for more than a year, not to mention the mental health issues that you had experienced – they wanted to ease you back in, see how you’d cope.

“Morning, Luce.” From the corner of your eye, you spotted Ona walking through the door, chatting away with Ingrid and Mapi. Even in a simple hoodie and cargos, she looked fantastic, with hair in that messy bun that drove you insane and a soft smile as she made her way to her cubby, greeting people as she went. Your match day fit wasn’t too dissimilar to hers; it was hers. You had swiped a faded sweatshirt from her cupboard this morning, kissing the corner of her mouth gently with a cheeky grin.

“I want that one back, you know,” she said teasingly, pushing a finger into your chest as she came to rest by your side.

“And you will … once it stops smelling like you,” you answered cheekily, grabbing her hand and laying a kiss on her palm.

“Ew,” Lucy commented, straight-faced.

“Excuse you, the number of times I’ve been subjected to your nastiness with Keira,” you scoffed. Whilst Lucy wasn’t a big fan of PDA in public, as soon as she knew there were no cameras, she was the biggest cuddler known to man.

“Yeh, yeh. Doesn’t mean I need to see … that,” she shuddered.

“Well, then look away.” You stuck your tongue out at her as you pulled Ona closer, kissing her softly.

“Aye, aye, aye!” Patri whistled across the room, “There are children present here, people.” You laughed as she covered Vicky’s eyes.

Everything was like old times as you went through your pre-match routine. You did a pitch walk with Ona, pinkies intertwined as you wandered around, and a warmup with Lucy, laughing excitedly as you reminisced over the summer. As you walked down the tunnel, you felt familiar arms pull you back.

“Can I do your hair?” She asked. It had been routine for you back in Manchester for her to help you pull your hair back into a bun. She had watched you do it twice before taking pity on you … and your scalp.

“Absolutely you can.” You beamed at her as you gathered your stuff, sitting down in between her legs. She was so much gentler than you as she brushed your hair up and out of your face. She kissed the back of your neck as she finished. You smiled, loving that your little ritual was back. You thanked her and quickly sprayed some perfume before slipping your bib on and heading to the sub's bench.

Unsurprisingly, Barcelona started the season off with a bang, making it obvious that this team meant business once again. It was a solid 6 – 0 win, with the fans going crazy for each goal.

“Vamos!” Patri shouted as she stuck a phone in your face. You cheered with her – your happiness was visible to everyone.

“Mi amor,” Ona called as she motioned for you to come over to her. You started to make your way, stopping and shaking hands with players as you went. You were intercepted by the media team asking for a video about your return.

“Hola culers. Gracias por apoyarme en todo. It’s been a long year, but we’re starting it how we want to continue. Vam-,” you were cut off by a body jumping on you from behind. The warm, sweet scent that engulfed you told you exactly who it was. Ona squealed in your ear as you spun around, her clinging to you, both laughing loudly. You caught a lot of people’s attention as you ran around, dodging through the team and being tracked by a camera.

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

The International Call Up

It was the last international break of the year. You had been doing well, starting games regularly and, more often than not, staying on for the full 90 minutes. Sarina was due to be making phone calls to the squad tomorrow. She had asked for your weekly schedule a few days ago so she could avoid calling you during training … if she was going to call.

You hadn’t received a phone call for the last break. It had stung that you hadn’t even received an email from Sarina or the England team, but having spoken to Leah privately and set up a call with Sarina, they had both reassured you that it was nothing sinister. You had barely returned to the starting XI at Barca, so they thought it best for you to sit this break out. But the seed of doubt had been planted. You saw what happened to Steph when she got injured, and she was the captain, could they be doing the same thing with you? You successfully kept the voices in your head at bay for about an hour before Ona caught on.

“Mi amor, estás bien?” She had asked you when you were lying in bed. It was usual for her to lie on you, her ear pressed to your chest, the methodical beat soothing her before bed. It was strange, therefore, when you denied her from cuddling up to you. She was about to protest when you pushed her to lie back on the pillows somewhat forcefully before diving on top of her. She recognised this behaviour; you wanted comfort and security before speaking your mind. She allowed you to rest your total weight on her, her nails scratching at your scalp and a hand rubbing soft circles on your back.

“What if she doesn’t call?” Your voice was quiet and full of uncertainty. It was muffled; her neck was your hiding place for the moment.

“I know you're anxious about this, mi amor, but she will call. She asked for your schedule, didn't she? She didn’t do that last time.” That was true. Ona knew you needed cold, hard facts—something you couldn’t dispute. “You’re in the starting XI at Barca pretty much every game. And if you aren’t, then you’re a sub instead. You’ve been named in every escuadrón del día del juego across all competitions.”

“But … what if she doesn’t call? It’s been so long since I last wore an England shirt. What happens if she thinks I’m not good enough for it? What if I –” You were panicking more now, sitting up to look in her eyes.

“I’m going to stop you right there, mi amor. I know you are worried about tomorrow, but you need to calm down. Getting histérica won’t help anyone. Deep breaths.” She went through the routine your therapist had set out for you. You had asked her to come to your next appointment after the lack of a phone call. You had scheduled one for the next day, recognising the signs of needing help to process the rejection. She had sat in on the final 20 minutes, taking in all the recommended ways to help you should you ever feel like the world was becoming too much for you. Eventually, you calmed down enough to discuss what was in your head. With each negative thought, she had asked you to either change it into a positive or think of something that challenged it.

“I love you,” she had whispered as you snuggled down for sleep. “So, so much. Whatever happens, that will never change,” she vowed.

“Yo también te amo mucho,” you whispered back.

The next morning, Lucy came into the gym beaming; she didn’t need to tell you that she had been selected. Keira was also softly smiling after lunch, so you gathered she had also received the phone call. So that just left you.

“She does it randomly, recordar?” Ona had rubbed soothing circles into your back when she noticed Keira’s smile.

You were in the changing room waiting for Ona to finish when your phone buzzed.

Sarina: Hi. Are you free for a phone call?

This was it.

Y/N: Hi. Yes, absolutely. Please call whenever.

You barely pressed send before your phone started ringing. The conversation was short and sweet, just like always. She asked if you wanted to join the team, and you accepted instantly.

“So?” Lucy was the first one over to you. The slight smile told you everything she needed to know. She cheered and launched herself at you, knocking the wind out of you.

“Careful, Luce. We do need her for the games.” Keira laughed, joining in on the hug.

“Qué está pasando?” Alexia questioned, frowning slightly at the noise you three were making.

“Sarina phone.” You explained. She knew how much it meant to receive the first phone call after an injury. She surprised you, however, by joining in on the hug. You were still in the middle of the group hug when Ona walked over from the showers. Her hair was wet, and she wore a sports bra and joggers with a small United logo and your number.

“You got the phone call!” She smiled. She wasn’t asking. She knew you’d get it. She had absolute and complete faith in your abilities.

“I got the phone call!”

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

Ona Gets Injured

It was a nice day in late spring when it happened. It was the final game before the international break. You were leaving for England the day after next, being expected at St. George’s Park the following morning. You had 5 minutes left of normal game time; you and Ona had played the full match, legs burning with lactic acid and faces red from the effort. You were winning, but it had been an effort. The first half had ended goalless for both teams. It had been excellent goalkeeping and general defence from them; none of Barca’s shots had been put in the back of the net. Thanks to Patri and Salma, you were now 2 – 0, but it had been a struggle to get there.

You watched, waiting to see if you were needed, as Ona tackled the defender. It was a fair fight; neither was willing to give up the ball easily. As Ona finally freed herself with the ball, a second pair of boots joined the mix. You didn’t see which one did it, but suddenly, Ona was on the floor clutching her ankle.

“Merda. Merda. Merda. Tu gossa. Ai, ai, ai.” Ona rolled around, the swearing sounding wrong coming from her usually innocent mouth.

“Oni… Oni, mi vida.” You scratched along the letters on her back, hoping to comfort her. “Necesitas una fisio?” You asked her. She nodded, her eyes still tightly shut. From behind you, you could see Alexia, Marta, and Patri surrounding the Ref. You stuck your arm in the air, waving the medics over. “What is it?”

“Tobillo. Sus tachuelas atraparon mi tobillo.” You nodded as you rolled her onto her back.

“Let me see those pretty eyes, Oni,” you kissed her forehead as the medical staff appeared.

The game continued after Ona was carried off the pitch. She had adamantly refused a stretcher, but she couldn’t put weight on her foot. You prayed it wasn’t serious, but the grim faces of the medical team told you otherwise. You had sped through the post-match handshakes, catching Alexia’s eyes as you slipped away.

Ona was on one of the beds in the medical room, her ankle wrapped in ice.

“Qué decía? Esta roto? Necesitas ir al hospital? Qué ocurre? Qué tan malo es?” You bombarded her with questions. You had never seen her injured like that before. In Manchester, when she had a concussion, you were an absolute mess – this time was no different. She didn’t answer you, just shook her head, reaching out for you. You ran to her side as you watched the tears fall. With every passing cry, your thoughts started to spiral into worse and worse scenarios.

“Hey, hey. It’s ok. Whatever the doctors said, you’ve got this. Nosotras tenemos esto. You aren’t going to be alone, prometo.” You cradled her head as she cried.

“It’s … I’ve … She …” Ona was trying to tell you what happened but couldn’t catch her breath. She had never been injured like this before.

“Oni, deep breaths for me. In … and out.” You did the same thing she did when you felt overwhelmed, hoping the familiar routine would soothe her more. Buena niña,” you said when she was calm. Now, what did the doctors say?”

“I’ve maybe got a … I don’t know the word in English.” She started to panic again.

“That’s ok, say it in Spanish, mi vida,” you kissed her knuckles gently.

“fractura capilar. I’ve got to go in for scans in the morning. Either way, I won’t be playing in the international window … or for the next month or so, tal vez más si realmente está roto.” Potentially broken. A month or so out, minimum. You know from personal experience how much this is going to hurt Ona.

“That’s okay, mi vida. It will be hard, sí. But I believe in you one hundred percent. We can set up appointments with the therapist again?” It was a strange role reversal. Usually, you were the one panicking and crying, and Ona was the calm, unmoving force in the raging storm.

“And maybe missing the international break isn’t as bad as you think?” Ona started to protest. You once thought like she did, football was your world. It still was in so many ways. But since your injury … and her re-entering your life … things had shifted slightly. You recognised the importance of taking breaks a little bit more seriously now. “No, hey. Listen to me.” You moved to press your forehead against hers. “You’ve been going non-stop for so long. You have also achieved so much under the conditions you were in. I know it’s not ideal, but take the next however many weeks as a chance to properly rest.” You leaned forward a little more and kissed her gently, both of you melting into each other. “Plus, I want a WAG cheering me on,” you added, making her laugh wetly.

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

Going to Ona’s Home

It was a warm day in early spring as you drove down to Vilassar De Mar, the wind whipping gently at your hair. It was Ona’s Abuela’s birthday, and you were spending the weekend with them as it coincided with a rare free weekend. You had slipped away from training, driving to Ona’s family home.

You loved it here; you could happily roam around the streets for hours with the ever-present smell of the sea and saltiness in the air. The first time you had come here was on a similar weekend – her brother’s birthday, you think. You had spent time relishing in the happiness of a regular family, one that made the good kind of loud, full of laughter and love. It made Ona happy to see how easily you fit into her family, playing football in the garden with her cousin’s children, joking around with her brother, helping her mother prepare the food, and chatting animatedly with her father.

“Hola, Àvia,” Ona said as she entered the living room.

“Hola, Néta,” Her grandmother said as they kissed each other’s cheeks. “On és la meva neta encantadora?”

“Todavía no puedo hablar catalán.” You laughed as you hugged the woman tightly. You didn’t know what she had asked Ona, but judging by the blush, it had something to do with you. “Hola, Abuela. Te he extrañado.” Ona loved when you came to her home. Her parents had taken her aside after the second time she’d brought you, asking when she would make you their daughter-in-law. At the time, she blushed profusely, telling her parents she wanted to take it slow but promising that she would make you officially at Batlle one day. But she was beginning to think that day was growing closer and closer with each visit.

“Mi amor, let’s go for a walk, sí? We could go to the cafetería and pick up some Crema Catalana?” Ona said a little while later, already leading you to the door. You loved the little coffee shop with its patterned flooring and twisting vines. The pair of you walked, hand in hand, the short distance to the shop, stopping to take pictures and videos on the way. The fans and the team were going insane at the little snippets of your relationship that you showed online. Everyone loved your love so much that they couldn’t help it.

In this particular video you shared on your Instagram, you had propped your phone up on a bench. As you were busy pressing play and ensuring the phone stayed where you wanted it, you missed the adoring look Ona gave you. Whilst you may not have seen it, the camera most definitely picked it up. You rushed back to Ona’s side, taking her hand and using it to spin her around. You cupped her face as you let your eyes travel across her face. She was so beautiful, God’s gift on earth, you think … no, you know.

“Te amo,” you whispered to her, pecking her lips two, three times. The camera didn’t capture your voice, especially since you muted it and added a song instead, but no one could deny the rosy hue that spread across both your faces. She had pushed her arms around your waist and buried her head in your neck as you rocked gently side-to-side.

You had cut the video for social media there, but on your camera roll, the heavy make out session that followed had been videoed for your eyes only. You had been glad that it was an empty street on a quiet Sunday afternoon. You had pulled away and was greeted to the sight of a dazed Ona, lips kiss-swollen and slightly out of breath.

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

You’re a WAG

For once, your schedules meant you could see Ona play for Spain in person. Usually, you were forced to watch each other’s matches at the hotel, sending each other a steady stream of texts for the other to catch up on after the game. But finally, your matches had aligned in a way that meant you could go to Ona’s match in person. You had just played against the Netherlands, and Spain was playing France. The day after your match, you bid the Lionesses goodbye and headed to the airport. You were so excited when you got the confirmation from Sarina that you could leave camp a day earlier than you were supposed to. You had lied to Ona – it hurt your heart just a little bit when you saw the sadness in her eyes despite the brave smile she put on. You knew it would be worth it, though. You had asked her brother to help secure your tickets, explaining what you wanted to do. He had jumped at the chance, knowing how sad his sister was when you couldn’t make her games in person.

Lyon was loud and busy, with both Spanish and French fans swarming the walk to the stadium. You eventually met Ona’s family, successfully surprising her parents as well. It had been a while since you had seen them.

“Hola,” you said as you sidled up to the small group. Ona’s mother turned, letting out a short, shocked scream before engulfing you in a warm hug. Was the ability to give great hugs genetic?

“Qué estás haciendo aquí? Ona lo sabe?”

“No, es una sorpresa.”

The match was a good one. France put up a fight, but this Spanish team was something else. The way they moved with the ball, the seamless connections, the complete trust – it was something to be admired. You hadn’t really watched the ball, but rather Ona. It had been a while since you could actively watch her in a match. She looked so sexy. What you wouldn’t give to run your hands over those ripping muscles, make her whine and whimper. No, stop! You’re with her parents, you reminded yourself. Later, you promised.

It ended with a respectable 3 – 1 to Spain, with the girls on the pitch cheering and celebrating as they clapped for the fans. You slipped away as the game came to an end. You had spoken to Lucía the night before, asking her for a way to get you onto the pitch. The security guard looked unimpressed, but you pointed your name out on the list of people allowed into the back of the stadium and showed him your ID.

“Será mejor que te apresures y propongas matrimonio. Te ves demasiado bien en rojo para mantenerte como una Lioness.” Lucía called as you hugged her tightly.

“No chance. Putting this thing on was a struggle.” Slipping the red jersey over your head felt wrong, but you couldn’t deny that you liked having Batlle printed across your back.

“Let’s get you to your girl, sí,” She smiled, nodding your head in the direction of the pitch.

You hung back by the tunnel's entrance, some of the Barca girls smiling and waving at you. “Ona, tengo una entrega especial para ti. Ha recorrido un largo camino, así que ten cuidado, sí.” Lucía shouted. You could see the moment Ona spotted you. Her tired eyes lit up, and a smile instantly came to her face. She barrelled into you, arms going around your neck as you lifted her from the floor.

“Déu meu, què fas aquí? Déu meu.”

“Stop speaking Catalan; you know I can’t understand you.” You laughed as you supported her thighs, the other hand running up and down the length of her back.

“You said you couldn’t leave camp early. Me mentiste? If you did, that was very mean of you.” She was still clinging to you, and you made no effort to put her down.

“Technically, sí. I did lie to you. But it was for a good reason, no? Congratulations, by the way. You looked so sexy out there, mi sexy defensora. And that yellow card …” You could feel the heat in her cheeks.

The next day, you woke up to the Lionesses and Spanish football Instagram pages tagging you both in a photo; the moment she ran up to you was captured on video. You looked down at the sleeping woman beside you, her hair a mess, hickeys bitten into her neck, still kiss swollen lips, gentle puffs leaving her mouth. You knew you would marry her.

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

Sant Jordi

Sant Jordi. St. George’s Day. A chance for you to show even more love to Ona. Whilst this wasn’t your first Sant Jordi together, you still wanted to make a big deal of it. In the week leading up to it, you made no effort to remind her of it; yesterday, you had lied when she asked where you were going. You said you were meeting up with Lucy and Keira, knowing they’d easily cover for you. You were actually buying a bouquet of red roses, a single red rose and a handful of books. You knew it was customary for guys to get books and girls to get roses, so you thought it would be best to get both. You didn’t know whether to only get one rose or a bouquet, so you got both instead.

Thankfully, the day also fell on an off day, meaning you had the whole day to shower Ona with your affection. You were taking this day more seriously than Valentine's, determined to exhibit your love to her. You knew she would tell you; you didn’t need to. She knew how much you loved. You showed her every day with the way you gently woke her up to kisses because you knew how much she hated the harshness of an alarm. You showed her every day with your touches; for her, touch was a natural, normal part of the day. Being Spanish, she’d grown up in a touchy environment. To you, it was much more of a conscious decision. You didn’t like physical touch … until she arrived. Once she had very quickly taken hold of your heart, touch had become essential to you. You would gently push her hair back off her face, you would interlink your fingers as you walked, you would stand with your pinkies laced together, you would sit with an arm around her waist at the lunch table as she stood between your legs, you would trace lines up the backs of her thighs if you stood between hers, you would fiddle with her hair. You showed her your love every day by doing the dirty washing, a task she knew you both hated.

You tried to slip out of bed without waking Ona as you woke up. But that girl had a built-in Y/N proximity detector.

“No, d'hora. Tornar a dormir,” She said in Catalan.

“Still don’t know what you’re saying. But I just need to loo; I’ll be back soon, ok.” You laughed as you kissed the back of her head, pulling the duvet around her once more. You raced around the flat, placing the roses in vases and resting them on the table, you stacked the books neatly next to them and your little card on top. Cute and respectable, but not over the top.

“Took too long,” Ona grumbled as you slipped back into bed. Although you had only been gone five minutes, it felt like a lifetime to both of you.

“Lo siento, Oni. Pero ya estoy de vuelta.”

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

Winning Champions League

3 minutes. 2 minutes. 1 minute. 30 seconds. 10 seconds. The final whistle blew. The cheers were so loud as you all bundled on top of each other. Shouts of ‘Campeones de Europa’ echoed in your ears. Barcelona were Champions League winners once again. This feeling would never get old.

“What the fuck!” Keira shouted in your ears, laughing as you hugged each other tightly.

“Holy shit!” Lucy screamed as she landed on top of you both.

“What numbers this one, Luce?” You asked as she squeezed you so tight it almost hurt.

The hugs were sweaty, the screams were loud, and the energy was electric. And you wouldn’t have had it any other way. “Lo hicimos. De nuevo. Juntos,” Ona said as you finally walked into her embrace.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way, Oni.” You said as you pressed a string of kisses against her forehead.

The party was one for the history books. Music boomed, drinks flowed, and laughter was shared.

“Oni, let me take you home,” you mumbled against her lips. With every drink, your inhibitions were lowered; with every kiss shared, you wanted needed her more desperately.

As you walked back to the hotel room, you couldn’t help but let your eyes and hands explore. The top she wore hugged all the right places; the jeans made her arse look even better. It would be wrong not to push your hands along her waist. It would be criminal not to let your thumb brush her ribs, just under her bra. It would be illegal not to let your fingers drift under the waistband of her trousers. She wasn’t much better. As soon as you entered the lift, she was sucking a dark hickey into your skin, her hand coming up to palm at your breast. You couldn’t tell what mood she was in. When you were at the club, she had seemed so innocent, wide doe eyes that told you she wanted you to absolutely ruin her. But now, with the way she pinned you against the wall, you think she might want to have you underneath her. You didn’t mind either way, knowing you would both be more than satisfied by the night's end.

You got your answer as she laid down on the bed, her jeans in a puddle to the side, her shirt following quickly after it.

“Si us plau.” She only used Catalan when she wanted you to have her in any and every way you wanted.

“Oni, how can I know what you want when you speak a language I don’t understand?” You said, watching her writhe with want as you traced lightly along her body – up her arm, cross her collarbone, skirting around her chest, smoothing across her waist as you came to a stop at her hip, opting to rub maddening circles into her skin.

“Por favour,” she whimpered again.

“Much better, my good girl.” You chuckled lowly as you finally touched her where she wanted.

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

Ona surprises you at Camp.

It was your birthday, and you were on International duty. You had wanted to be woken up to a lovely birthday kiss from Ona, greeted with a wonderful sight of her in an old T-shirt of yours and nothing else, and able to have your way with her in every way she allowed. Instead, you were woken up by a grumpy Leah who had used all the hot water.

It wasn’t all bad; you were greeted at breakfast to a chorus of happy birthday before being given a single muffin with a candle in it.

“No cake?” Tooney moaned as you all tucked into you breakfasts.

“Not allowed. According to Leah, anyway,” you grumbled.

“Bitch,” Tooney muttered under her breath.

“What was that, Ella?” Leah asked as she came to sit beside you. Ella shook her head, flustering at her skipper. “That’s what I thought.”

The day was fairly normal. Sarina let you call out teams and make the groups as a ‘birthday present’. It was a bit of a shite one, but the sentiment was there. One person still hadn’t called you … or texted you. You knew Ona was busy. She was also on camp. But you had hoped she could at least have messaged you quickly. You tried not to let it get to you.

“Hey, Y/N, can you go grab me some more cones?” a trainer asked. I thought I had picked up enough. They should be in the storeroom right by the door.” You nodded, shuffling away to do what was asked.

“Feliç aniversari,” a very familiar voice called out to you. Now, before you say anything that means ‘happy birthday’ in Catalan,” you were frozen. How was she here? She should be in Spain, not in England, not standing in front of you. She could see your shock and took pity on you. “I took a flight this morning, lo siento, I couldn’t text or call you earlier.” As she touched your cheek, you jolted back into reality.

“How? What? But? What?” She laughed that wonderful laugh, finding you short-circuiting at her presence amusing. You were quick to snap her up into a hug. Her comforting smell washed over you. Apples, cocoa butter, and Ona. Home.

“Oni, you’re really here?” You whispered, still in shock

“Sí, amor, I’m really here."

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

The Proposals

You both knew the other one wanted to propose. You had discussed as much over a shared bowl of ice cream.

“Do you … I mean … would you ever … could you ever … maybe … one day ... I don’t know … get … married?” You had stuttered and stumbled through the sentence, blushing profusely as she took your face in her hands. She had waited until you had met her gaze before saying earnestly.

“I have never wanted anything more than to be able to say that you are my wife.” Your heart swelled. How was this fantastic, incredible, stunning, beautiful, funny, kind, wholesome woman letting you love her?

“Would you … who would … do you … ask?” She wasn’t confused by your incomplete sentence; she had known you for long enough that you got like this sometimes, especially when things were important to you, but you didn’t know how to say it.

“Who would propose to who?” she asked for clarification, shifting over to sit in your lap. Her hands fiddled with your fingers as your other hand automatically came to draw shapes on her back.

“I mean … Ale told me that she and Olga agreed they would propose to each other. We could do something similar. That way, we both have rings, if that’s something you want, and we both get surprised, and neither of us feels like it’s all on the other or them.” God, she was so smart. This had been on her mind for a while now, but she didn’t know if you wanted to ask or be asked. She didn’t know if she wanted to ask or be asked.

“I like that idea.” You said quietly, smiling shyly at the thought of marrying Ona.

“Then that’s what we’ll do, sí. We both get rings, we both ask, and we both get asked. It’s a win, win, win.”

You didn’t tell her that you already had a ring tucked away in your locker at the training centre, and she didn’t tell you she already had a ring buried in the bottom of one of her drawers.

You didn’t have a big plan for asking Ona to marry you. You had fallen in love with her all those years ago in the comfort of your own home, so that’s where you wanted to do it. You had fallen in love with her in the mornings when you both had bedheads, big T-shirts on, and sleep in your eyes. Of course, you had fallen in love with her in many other ways at many other times, but this was an Ona only you got to see.

It was a rare weekend off. You had stayed up most of the night laughing it away, tracing shapes onto Ona’s back as she pressed kisses on your neck and jaw. The morning light woke you up, Ona still tightly in your arms, and you knew you would propose today. You had already been told by her Abuela to hurry up and marry Ona before she died. You could feel when Ona woke up; her breathing shifted as she snuggled further into your neck, always desperate for more sleep. You stayed like that until 10, no longer able to put off the allure of food.

“Oni …” you handed her a plate of pancakes and turned back for her mug of coffee. The ring in your other hand. Everyone had said they were nervous about proposing, yet you only felt love, happiness, and excitement for the next chapter in your lives. “Et casaràs amb mi?” You asked as you opened the box. She blinked – a slight flicker of doubt crossed your mind. Maybe she didn’t want this after all? She tackled you, instantly snapping you out of your worry. The force sent you both to the ground. “You just asked me to marry you.” She called out happily. “In Catalan.” She added, making you both laugh. She kissed every part of your face she could reach.

“I’ll take that as a yes then?” You asked.

“Sí, sí, sí. A thousand times, sí.” You pulled her down to you, pouring your emotions into a kiss.

After your proposal, Ona was really thinking hard about what to do. She knew you didn’t want something big or public; she didn’t want that either. But she wanted to do something special, something meaningful and heartfelt. Your proposal had been the most perfect thing: unexpected but brilliantly capturing the essence of your relationship. She decided to wait a little while, allowing the suspense and surprise to build.

It was a cold day in Manchester when she decided to pop the question. The pair of you were visiting for the Derby Day match, flying out immediately after your game yesterday. Where better to do it than where you fell in love? She had told Leah her plan ahead of time, knowing she was the most likely to keep her mouth shut. She asked her to call you both onto the pitch and keep everyone out of the changing rooms while she asked.

After watching a rough match, Manchester could be officially named Red again. As you cheered with your United friends and laughed at those from City (kindly, as you kept reminding them), Ona knew she was making the right decision to ask you now. So much had transpired between you two, most of it here in Manchester. At Old Trafford, you had become in-synch on the pitch. At Old Trafford, you had taken those first tentative steps towards something more than a friendship. At Old Trafford, you had witnessed your love grow together.

“Hey, amor. Let’s go wait for the others in el vestuario, si? I want to see if anything’s changed.” She smiled as you nodded, fingers interlinked and arms swinging between you. You had wanted to keep the engagement quiet, at least until she had asked you back, but that didn’t stop her from wearing her ring on a necklace (except when she was at training – she left it, pride of place on her bedside cabinet), carefully tucking it under clothes, letting it dangle close to her heart.

“It’s strange how familiar this all feels. We haven’t played here in years, and yet you and I are walking down the tunnel at Old Trafford with a Manchester painted red. It’s strange but in a good way,” you said as you pushed open the door, guiding her through with a gentle hand on her back like you always used to do.

“Entiendo. But this is where it all started. Where we started.” It was the perfect segue to her asking you. “Mi amor, turn around.” She said as she sank onto one knee. You did, frowning slightly as you weren’t met with those gorgeous eyes.

“Oni,” you gasped as you took in the sight in front of you.

“Mi amor. I have loved you every day for years. I will love you every day for the rest of my life. Et casaràs amb mi?” Her speech wasn’t long or complicated. You knew how much she loved you, and she knew that.

“Oni, I don’t speak Catalan, remember?” You teased, eyes fogging over with unshed tears.

“Oh, no, you don’t. You don’t get to use that excuse with me anymore.” She laughed, standing up and holding onto one of your hips. “Will you marry me, amor?” Her voice was so soft and gentle.

“Yes,” you laughed as she slipped the ring onto your finger. “A thousand times, yes.”

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

Telling Lucy

You kept the engagement to yourself for a week. Neither of you wanted to hide it anymore; you wanted to proudly wear your ring. It was a random Tuesday morning as you walked in, hand-in-hand. You pressed a kiss to her temple as you drifted over to Lucy.

“Morning, Luce,” you said, acting as if you weren’t going to get married to the love of your life.

“Morning, kid. You alright?” She asked, clearly distracted by something Keira was showing her.

“Yeh, not bad. I got my nails done after training yesterday. Do you like them?” You stuck your hand under her nose. Keira was the first to spot it. The dainty ruby winking at here even in the fluorescent changing room lighting. Her eyes shot to yours before she looked at Ona, who was standing with Aitana. Ona had chosen a ruby for the stone (she had told you it was because Manchester was red, but she knew it was your favourite), and you had done a similar thing, picking an emerald that stood out against her pale skin.

“You haven’t even looked at them, Luce” Keira helped. God, Lucy could be so thick sometimes.

“What, oh, yeh they’re really …” She trailed off as you wiggled your fingers. “Holy shit.” She shouted. “You’re getting married?”

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

I'm sorry it's long, but I just couldn't figure out which bits to cut and whatnot. Anyways, that's the end of the story. I hope you guys enjoyed it. And thank you for supporting me - it means a lot <;3<3<3

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brf-rumortrackinganon · 19 days

Text

Timeline: Part 8 - November 2017

For earlier timeline posts: click here or here.

The one where Meghan's hustle finally starts paying off.

Also, Meghan's PR loyalties begin changing during this month. By mid-December 2017, she's stopped leaking to her usual sources - Star Magazine, US Weekly, and E News.

And when the engagement is announced, you can watch the official stories of how Meghan and Harry met begin changing in real-time.

11/1/2017: No new Meghan or Harkle stories.

11/2/2017: Meghan teases an engagement with adoption of a royal wardrobe.

11/3/2017: Meghan's role on a 2009 TV show resurfaces. Samantha Markle reveals internal family racism towards Doria and Meghan, and William's friends reopen a nightclub that Harry used to party at.

11/4/2017: No new Meghan or Harkle stories.

11/5/2017: No new Meghan or Harkle stories.

11/6/2017: No new Meghan or Harkle stories.

11/7/2017: No new Meghan or Harkle stories.

11/8/2017: Soho Farmhouse announces expansion plans. Meghan merches beauty products and calls Kate a fashion copycat.

11/9/2017: No new Meghan or Harkle stories.

11/10/2017: A television program searches for a Meghan Markle lookalike.

11/11/2017: No new Meghan or Harkle stories.

11/12/2017: Remembrance Sunday for the UK. The press points out that Harry is breaking military code by keeping his beard whilst wearing a military uniform. Doria sells her high school photos to the Daily Mail.

11/13/2017: Meghan papped filming wedding scenes for Suits.

11/14/2017: Meghan papped again on Suits sets. She fuels engagement rumors by hinting she plans to leave the show (but technically she already confirmed it last month).

11/15/2017: Affair rumors about Prince Philip resurface, ahead of The Crown Season 2 release. Promos reveal that the season will focus on tension in Philip and Elizabeth's marriage.

11/16/2017: Meghan lays groundwork for a PR narrative that the royal family is jealous of her popularity by reminding everyone that The Queen and Prince Philip were angry about Diana's popularity.

11/17/2017: Meghan's body-double/Suits stand-in reveals Meghan is moving to London soon. Meghan moves her dogs to the UK and merches her boots.

11/18/2017: Genealogists discover that Meghan's ancestor was beheaded by Henry VIII.

11/19/2017: Meghan owes her celebrity to her father's lottery win. Diana's former lover, Hasnat Khan, announces his engagement.

11/20/2017: The Queen and Prince Philip celebrate 70 years of marriage and Her Majesty appoints Philip Knight Grand Cross of the Royal Victorian Order. The royals celebrate with a swanky party at Windsor Castle; Meghan is not invited (her absence is confirmed next month). Meanwhile:

Meghan is papped arriving at the UK airport.

Samantha Markle gives an interview declaring desire to be invited to the royal wedding.

Financial reports announce that the Royal Family has contributed 1.8 billion pounds to the UK economy.

A rumor begins that Prince George will make a special guest appearance on Fireman Sam.

11/21/2017: Meghan is papped in London doing her Christmas shopping. She leaks to US Weekly that she has officially moved out of her Toronto house, her furniture was put into storage, and her personal belongings have been shipped to the UK.

The Daily Mail fires a warning to Meghan about how the 'needy' King Edward trapped Wallis Simpson and made it so she couldn't leave him. The implication is that Harry is similarly needy and will trap Meghan in a similar unhappiness.

11/22/2017: Meghan merches her scarf.

11/23/2017: Meghan gets a facial and merches the spa, fueling engagement rumors.

11/24/2017: Revisiting Prince Philip's stag party. Kensington Palace announces William and Kate will attend the Royal Variety Performance. Meghan leaks to E News that she and Harry are "practically" engaged, fueling more engagement rumors.

11/25/2017: No new Meghan or Harkle stories.

11/26/2017: Meghan merches her facialist and her treatment. The Daily Mail scoops Buckingham Palace and reveals an announcement is coming. They also recap Harry and Meghan's relationship and reveal that both Doria and Meghan have received RPO security details.

11/27/2017: Kensington Palace announces the engagement of Prince Harry and Meghan Markle and:

The Telegraph republishes its "Meghan Markle: The Making of a Hollywood Princess" story.

Meghan merches her coat, shoes, health tips, beauty, skincare, and boots.

They hint at receiving Sussex titles.

Revisiting all of Harry's ex-girlfriends.

Meet Meghan's besties and potential bridesmaids.

The Markle family comments on the royal engagement.

Meghan and Harry will live in Nottingham Cottage.

How Meghan Markle went from seedy LA tenement to the Palace.

How Catholic Meghan Markle survived her parents' LA divorce.

Meghan's life in photos

Meet the Markles

Meghan and Crown Princess Mary (of Denmark) are style sisters.

Mishal Husain was hand-picked by Harry to conduct the engagement interview.

Speculation about the wedding dress begins, with Meghan teasing an Australian designer.

Meghan leaks to US Weekly that she and Harry spent the weekend away before announcing their engagement.

Meghan leaks about her preparation and support from Harry to become royal.

Diana and Meghan would have been best friends.

Meghan retires from acting.

How Meghan tamed Harry

Royal fashion showdown: Meghan, Diana, and Kate

11/28/2017: Engagement coverage continues.

Violet von Wesetenholz is the royal matchmaker.

Doria gives a statement on the engagement.

Meghan's sixth grade school photos are published.

Meghan's sexy online photos resurface.

Quid pro quo: How Meghan supports her friends

Meghan and Harry merch Luckington Manor as a prospective home.

No, it's not Violet. The royal matchmaker is Misha Nonoo.

Harry papped at the gym in Chelsea.

Meghan did the calligraphy for Robin Thicke and Paula Patton's wedding.

Actually, Markus Anderson is the royal matchmaker. (I believe this one; the source is US Weekly, which is a confirmed Meghan ally. The Violet and Misha stories are from the Daily Mail.)

Samantha Markle says Thomas wants to walk Meghan down the aisle.

Meghan leaks that she and Harry secretly visited The Queen after announcing engagement.

See? Meghan can do royal glam too -- 11 times she won the red carpet.

Meghan merches her fashion sense and style.

11/29/2017: Engagement coverage continues.

All about Meghan's genealogy (again)

Meghan reveals Bogart was too old to fly and was left behind in Canada. She also leaks that the BRF is forcing her to stop acting and that the BRF is also making her stop her private charity work.

Meghan the humanitarian

Ninaki Preddy sells pictures to the Daily Mail. The motherlode includes a photograph of Meghan posing outside Buckingham Palace.

Meghan expected to join the royal family at Sandringham for Christmas.

Meghan merches tongue massages.

Aaron Korsh, the creator of Suits, reveals that Meghan was written out of Suits in 2016.

Meghan leaks her expectations to be better than Princess Grace of Monaco.

Meghan merches her beauty routine again.

11/30/2017: New day, same story.

Meghan is on the cover of Elle France.

Meghan merches her nose.

Meghan's soap commercial resurfaces.

Meghan's sorority pictures are published.

Kensington Palace announces wedding will be in May.

Remember when Meghan was a fashion expert/consultant for the Today show?

Northwestern University remembers Meghan.

Meghan has royal ancestors.

How will Meghan become a British citizen?

#timeline #brf #sussexes #pr shenanigans

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youaresimplylovely · 13 days

Text

“Fast and Fabulous: A Driven Love”

---- A love story between a Formula 1 Driver and a Supermodel

Chapter 2 (Prev. Chapter) Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5. Chapter 6

Pairing: Carlos Sainz!Formula 1 Driver x Famous Supermodel!Reader

Words: 727 words

Warnings: Fluff, major plot twist at the end hahaha, mentions of F1, timeline in the story starts at 2021, translated filipino :>

Proofread!!

Summary: An Evening with The Dela Cruz Family

Pots, pans, and utensils clatter around the kitchen of the Dela Cruz house. Your mother groaned, putting down the knife she used to chop the potatoes. You could see the anger in her eyes when your father came home to work as he entered the house.

"Hi, honey."

Your father grins nervously as he smiles at your mother. You and your brother turn your heads from the TV as you look at your father, holding your laughs. You could hear the nervousness from your father's voice.

“Ano ba yan Jean! Ilang beses na ah! No shoes diyos ko! (What is that Jean! How many times already! No shoes my God!)”

Your mother loudly scoffed, approaching your father and glaring at him.

"I know, mon amour, and I'm so sorry, and I am also sorry for being late."

Your father chuckles nervously, approaching your mother. He hugs her, rubbing her back, trying to calm her down.

"Now, mon amour, care to tell me why you're so mad? Other than me?.” Your father flashed a bright smile.

"Pretty sure all you, Dad."

Mark laughed, sitting up from the couch as he patted his father's shoulder.

"Mark!" Your mother glared at him, making him laugh even more.

"Ay, I'm sorry, ma.; here, let me help you cook." Mark smiled softly, heading to the kitchen to continue his mother's left-off cooking.

"Sometimes I forget mama is half Filipino and half Spanish."

Pao snickered, watching you and your Kuya James (older brother) play F1 21'.

"Isa ka pa Paolo! (You are another one, Paolo!)."

Your mother pulled away from the hug with your father as she glared at Pao.

"AH! Ma! You are the most beautiful woman, and I love you very much."

Pao's eyes widened at his mother's yelling; he sat up, approached her, and hugged her. Your mom snickered, wrapping his arms around Pao and hugging him.

"You know I don't like you coming home late." Your mother pouted at your father, still hugging Pao.

"I know, mon amour, and I'm sorry, we just had so many meetings."

Your father apologized, kissing your mother's cheek and making your mother smile.

"Oh hey there, honey." Your father smiled, seeing you, sitting next to you.

"Hi there, father." You giggle, smiling, putting the PS4 controller down.

"Ah, playing F1 21'?" Your father smiled at you and James.

"Our little girl is excited to finally attend her first F1 race." James chuckled, pinching your cheek.

"Well, it's good honey that the race we're attending is at Monza; I picked it out for you cause I know you're such a Ferrari fan."

Your father smiled, opening his arms. Smiling happily, you bury your face in his chest, sighing contentedly.

"Thank you, Dad." you smile, looking up at your father.

You couldn't be happier; you've been an F1 fan for many years, yet you've never attended a race. The reason you always gave was that you were busy, especially as a supermodel, which is true, but you were scared. More than worried, you never knew why. This was how you always felt, but that didn't matter anymore; attending your first race is great, and now you're excited. Your brothers attended races except for Pao; it was both your first.

The Dela Cruz family is a complete sports fan, except when picking teams to support, especially in Formula 1. Your father and three older brothers supported Mercedes. They always have and always will. While you were a Ferrari fan, solid, as in, and then Pao, who is the complete polar opposite of you. He was a Red Bull fan, which is crazy, and you keep saying that to him.

Soon, Your thoughts were disturbed by a long, loud flush of the toilet coming from the bathroom, causing everyone to look at the door. Laughing as they saw your other older brother, Kuya Dan (older brother), come out of the bathroom, chuckling nervously.

"What's up? Oh hey, dad," He laughs, noticing your father as he smiles, sitting beside him.

“Tagal mo tumae boi (you took so long to poop boi)”

“Aba sino ka dyan, tagal mo din mag cr (Ah who are you there, you take long in the cr too) Dan rolled his eyes, sticking his tongue out at Pao.

“O sya tama na yan, let’s eat! (Oh that’s enough, let’s eat!) Your mother laughs.

#f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 blurb #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz x female reader #formula 1 au

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deansapplepie · 7 months

Text

Till THE DEAD do us part | Chapter 4

A/N: This story will take place in all the seasons, but it’s not exactly a rewriting cause I’d have to re-watch everything to use the exactly lines of the characters, also I think it’s better if I tell a side story without changing the main facts of the story.

This story has a Female Reader, but I don’t describe her appearance, so anyone can identify with her.

Chapter 3 Chapter 5

Chapter 4: Pinky Promise

Summary: The group arrived at the CDC and were welcomed by Dr. Jenner, that asked just for blood samples so they could stay there. The group ate better than they have been eating in weeks and also drank a lot. Y/N and Daryl talk about the past while they share a bottle of whiskey and things get just a little bit out of control.

Warnings: swearing, little angsty, fluffy, alcohol consumption, sexual tension (?), a hot kiss 🥵, Minors do not interact. Nothing extremely sexual and detailed, but if disturbs you in any way it’s better not to read. Maybe some characters are ooc, idk 🤷🏼‍♀️

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Grimes!Reader (Rick’s Sister)

Word Count: 2,877

Extra notes: I proofread the text, but English is not my first language, so feel free to correct any mistakes, of course with love. I’m consulting a timeline of everything that happened, but it can happen that I put events out of order, but I don’t think it’ll make much difference in the story. ALSO, I’m very nervous about the path this chapter went so I’d be glad if you told me what you think.

As soon as the door opened everyone entered, but there was no one. Where were the person that opened the damn door? After some minutes a man appeared, gun on his hand and he just lowered when you proved you offered no danger. His condition to give you shelter, was to take blood samples of all of you to examine. A fair price for a scientist, how could you deny?

After you picked everything you needed from the cars, the man named Jenner, closed the metal doors and you followed him to get your blood samples taken. You were not over joyed to get your blood taken, because normally your veins were pretry dificult to be found and people would end up torturing you with a needle until they found your vein.

“You’ll probably find my vein here.” You said pointing to a place one inch from your elbow. Yeah, your vein was easy found in a very strange place. “My veins are difficult to find, that’s why I’m telling you.” ‘And because torture is not my kind of entertainment’, you thought.

“Don’t worry, I’ll only do it when I’m sure I found it.” He tried to make you calm. And he didn’t lied, he really waited till he found it and then he collected your blood without much trouble or pain.

He took everybody’s sample and then took you to the kitchen. A full supplied kitchen with good food, alcohol, water and all the appropriate devices to prepare anything.

“Glenn, did we die and I didn’t notice? Cause this looks a lot like heaven.” You commented with the young man.

“If we did, I didn’t notice it too.” He replied. God! You didn’t think you would miss so much having a kitchen with all the appliances you were used to.

You prepared the food together and the drinks were served. Everybody was so happy, having a good meal, drinking and chatting. There was a long time you didn’t feel such a light atmosphere. You all joked and smiled, maybe the alcohol was helping a little.

“Hmmm, never thought I’d taste such delicious wine again.” You commented next to your brother.

“Go easy on the alcohol sis.” Rick told you, as if he knew how to drink.

“Shut up Rick, you know I can handle alcohol better than you.” You said making him have a good laughter, in no way you were a better drinker than him. “Hey! Let a woman have her dreams.” Everyone joined Rick on his laughter, brightening the room with joy.

Very reluctantly Lori gave Carl permission to taste a little of wine, and he hated, so she was happy. Glenn was getting drunk for the first time and all of you were encouraging him, even Daryl, which was really funny to see him all lose and even smiling, genuinely and openly smiling. Alcohol was a dangerous thing, but it could also show you things you didn’t know about other people, good and bad. You sneaked some appetizers to Luna, which she gladly took.

When dinner was over Jenner showed you around, there was rooms where all of you could stay, and bathrooms with hot shower. Oh my God, you couldn’t even remember the last time you took a hot bath. You claimed one of the rooms and went directly to the bath.

You took your time in the bath, washed your hair, let the hot water fall against your back and relax your muscles. It was so good, it had been only two months and you already missed this little luxuries from the old world so bad. When you finished drying yourself, you brushed your hair and put some comfortable clothes, your sleeping shorts and a tank top. Then, you missed something important, where was Luna?

You left your room and passed looking on the rooms that had the door open. You saw Carol putting Sophia to sleep and you couldn’t help, but smile. They deserved happiness and you were glad they were safe here, as you were glad you family was here too.

“Carol, did you see Luna? I can’t find her.” You asked her from the door.

“No, I just came from the rec room with the kids and didn’t see her. Maybe she’s with Rick or Shane?” She suggested, you didn’t know. You didn’t want her messing around in an unknown place.

“Ok, thanks. Gonna continuing looking for her. Have a good night Sophia! And you too Carol, rest yourself.”

“Have a good night Y/N/N” they replied.

You continued looking in the rooms that you could see open, but she was nowhere. You saw the door of Daryl’s room half opened and decided to knock, maybe he saw her somewhere.

“Come in” you heard he say, and you were not expecting the scene. He all cleaned up, a bottle of whiskey in his hand, his back on the wall, sitting in the sofa and Luna all over him.

“Am I interrupting something?” You asked playfully, Luna looked at you and swinged her tail, but she didn’t move from where she was.

“Not my fault she likes me better.” He took the bottle to his mouth all cocky.

“Seriously, I’m already thinking about giving you her custody. It’s obvious she doesn’t love me anymore.” You dramatized sitting on the sofa right next to him.

As soon as you touched the couch, she came all your way with her cold nose, and she laid on both your laps. “I think she wants to say that she likes us both.” You stated.

“Want some?” He offered you the bottle of alcohol.

“Is this even a question? Just give me the bottle Dixon.” You take the bottle and take it to your lips, whiskey was not exactly your favorite drink, but having the alcohol in your system was too good. Just not having to worry about being sober and ready to fight at any moment.

You stayed a long time in silence, just passing the bottle around and sipping from the drink. Here it was, that comfortable silence that you used to share and right now you could do it without worrying much. You rested your head back on the wall and looked at his profile, he was handsome and also cute, you felt kind of lucky for being able to take a look at this pretty serious grumpy face everyday.

“What did ya do before all this?” He asked and sipped on the bottle.

“You mean before I became a professional Zombie killer?” You joked, a bitter taste in your mouth having to talk about your failed career. “I was a vet. What about you?”

He looked at Luna and nodded like it made a lot of sense since you had Luna, but in fact anyone could have an animal. “I’d go around with whatever shit Merle was up to. In few words, I was a nobody. I had nothing as cool as you had.”

“Don’t say this. You weren’t a nobody. In fact, when it all happened, I was unemployed. So if you were a nobody, I was just like you.” Your head still resting on the wall, your eyes still on his profile and you thought how could he think so low of himself.

“Ya weren’t nobody, princess.” He turned to look at you and you swear that your heart skipped a bit when you looked in his cute baby blue eyes. “Ya just didn’t have a job.”

“So didn’t you.” He didn’t understand why you’d try to cheer him up and tell him he was more than what he actually was. Since he could remember he knew everyone thought that the Dixon’s were no good. Nobody wanted to be around his brother or him, and it didn’t change at the quarry. And why should it change now? He’d always be what he was, but you seemed to look at him with a whole different look than anybody else and you never told he was no good or a piece of shit… you mostly had good things to tell him, even when he was a dick with you.

“What’s going on in that head of yours, D.?” You looked at him and you almost could see all the gears working in his mind. You still looked in his eyes, both of your heads resting in the wall.

“Ya think I’m better than I am.” He also looked in your eyes and tried to see anything that showed you were fucking with him, but he didn’t. You were like Rick, you had honest eyes and couldn’t hide your emotions at all even if you tried. And at the moment you didn’t have any bad emotion in your face.

You wanted to say that he thought too low of himself, that he was better than he thought. You could see it, but it was not like you were good with words, and in the last 24 hours you got him upset more times than you would like, even if he was the asshole in one of them. Maybe it was the alcohol speaking, but you couldn’t put yourself to look away from his face, and now your eyes wandered all over his face, from his handsome eyes, to his lips, the small freckles under his eyes and the cute mole above his lips… God! You really wanted to kiss him, and your intoxicated brain could not think straight, if you were sober you’d never have the courage you were feeling at this moment.

He was no different from you, not that he had never spent any time admiring your features, he had done it many times. Your beautiful eyes, your nose, your lips and even your jaw. God, if ever existed one, he had thought more than he would like to admit about running his mouth over your jaw, your lips… kiss, lick and even bite your neck. But before, you were never this close to him and he had never got this drunk with you or near you. He had not felt like this before, like if he didn’t touch someone or were close to someone… he wouldn’t be able to breath. He thought it was pathetic, well that was what Merle would say, because feelings was something only pussies did. The alcohol in his body talked stronger than Merle’s voice in his head, and all he could think was that your faces were a few inches from each other and that he could feel your warm whiskey breath and the smell of your clean hair, and when you crashed your lips against his, he wasn’t able to control anymore.

You pressed your lips against his and you didn’t expect he’d kiss you back, you expected him to push you away and tell you to fuck off. But once your lips were on his, he kissed you back. Your hand went to his face and caressed him, while his hand went to the back of your head pulling you closer and you couldn’t help but feel more invested into the kiss, your lips moving in sync, your tongue caressing his bottom lip and he couldn’t help but open his lips and let you deepen the kiss, take your way, do whatever you wanted to do… He was completely at your mercy and at this moment he wasn’t even ashamed of admiting it, at least for himself. It didn’t take much longer for you to part from the kiss, you needed to breath. You pulled apart slowly, forehead against forehead, heavy breaths and rosy moistured lips. You were so into the kiss that you didn’t even noticed that Luna had gone to the floor, your bodies were much too against each other and one of your legs were on top of his.

When the reality hit, of what had just happened, he pushed himself to the farthest side of the sofa from you. “We shouldn’t… I shouldn’t have done this.” He got up and were about to leave the room, but you were faster holding his hand.

“Daryl, you can’t leave your own room.” You said getting up and trying to look into his eyes as much as it was possible standing up, since your height difference. “If someone have to leave, it must be me.” He didn’t say anything, red cheeks and trying to piece everything that just happened together. “I iniciated it. The fault is on me. Did I kiss bad? Did you not like it?”

“No, it was good. It’s not…”He tried to find his words, but his thoughts overflowed his mind while his brain separated the things he could say and the things he couldn’t. “We’re friends, friends don’t do it.” He had never called you a friend out loud, but this was the perfect time to say it instead of saying how fucked he was and how he didn’t know how to do emotions, he didn’t believe in love or that he could be loved, and how you two getting involved like this would just fuck the whole group.

“Well… when friends get drunk shit happens sometimes. Never happened to me, but… there’s a first time for everything.” You over explained a little, because you were kind of nervous. “It’s all my fault, don’t blame yourself and don’t worry too much. There was a long time I didn’t had a good kiss and you were just too cute... I’m sorry.”

“I did it too, ya don’t need to be sorry.” He averted your gaze, shy, still concerned with everything going on his mind.

“This will not change things between us, right?” You asked and he didn’t answer, still avoiding your eyes. Shit. Shit. Shit. You had probably ruined one of the few good things you had in this shitty world. “Daryl, promise you’ll not avoid me and we’ll still be the same.”

“Ya won’t rest until I promise ya something today, aren’t ya? What is it with ya and promises?” Why were you always asking things from him? At the same time he wanted to tell you to fuck off, he wanted you to be close, at least close enough so he could keep an eye on you.

“I just don’t want things to get odd between us.” You raised your hand in between both of you, all fingers down and just your pinky up. He looked at your hand and could not believe that you were doing it. “Ok, now promise that we’ll still be friends.”

“What are ya? Five?” Who in your age made pinky promises? Why did you have to be so… vivid? “Fine. Let’s make the fucking pinky promise.”

He took your pinky in his and then you sealed it with your thumbs. “Happy?”

“Yes, now I can rest assured that we’re still friends.” You smiled and he rolled his eyes, but deep inside he felt a small warmth and oh, he was so afraid of this, because he had never felt anything like that before and he had no idea of what to do with it. “Have a good night Daryl, and thanks for the drink.”

“Luna, come on girl. Let’s go to sleep.” You called for the german shepherd, she got up from where she was laying, got a lick on Daryl’s hand and waited for him do caress her head, after it she followed behind you to your room.

You closed the door, put your back on it and slided to the floor. You could still feel his lips on yours, his hand at the back of your head, fingers tangled in your hair and the heat of his body. How could you ever have a normal life after this? It could sound dramatic, but there was so long you weren’t this close to a man… Years actually, you didn’t even get on dates after Paul and he never did you feel this good as just kissing and touching Daryl made you feel. Fuck. Shane was right, you definitely had a crush on him, maybe more than this. And you Y/N Grimes didn’t do ‘more than this’, not anymore. You didn’t even do ‘less than this’.

You got up and decided it was time to go to bed and try to sleep. Luna laid by your side and you snuggled to her. “What should I do Luna?”

“Woof!” She said and gave a lick to your face.

“I already did it Luna, and I don’t know if it was the correct thing to do. I didn’t even know if he liked it.” Anyone would think you were crazy, but talking to Luna from time to time kept your sanity in place. “I’m not you, you know?”

Final Note: Thanks for everyone reading, liking, reblogging and commenting, it’s really good to receive your feedback.

Taglist: @sunnybunnyy2

#daryl dixon #the walking dead #the walking dead daryl #twd #twd daryl #daryl x y/n #daryl fanfiction #daryl imagines #daryl x reader #daryl x you #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl #Till THE DEAD do us part #deansapplepie #daryl x grimes!reader

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hrts4hanniehae · 4 months

Text

clutch || four

there are written parts :)

note that the timeline or educations may not add up but just ignore it because i don't have the brain power to sync up THIRTEEN + 1 's education schedules

also!!!! the story begins in the christmas period of 2022!!!! IF THERE ARE YEAR ERRORS IM SO SORRY!!!! i legit can't change it omfg

wonwoo did not expect to be hosting a new year countdown party. but here his 12 friends, plus yn were, singing karaoke and drinking soju and beer. when he had gotten home to discuss his predicament, unexpectedly his friends had all shown up too. but worry and stress soon turned into drunk karaoke. great.

"wait yn aren't you going to sing?" - hoshi

"give me a moment my head is spinning..." - yn

he sighed. "yn if you vomit on my carpet you will have to start paying extra rent."

"i'm sorry. i won't vomit." - yn

"dk sing more..." - seungkwan

"sorry i can't. i've got a performance tomorrow and i don't want to lose my voice." - seokmin

he watched as yn picked up the mic and changed the song to Iris by the goo goo dolls.

"oh this is her song." - minghao

"will she cry or be angry?" - jun

"her song?" - dino

"she sings this either when drunk or when super angry or both." - minghao

"why didn't you copyright your logo to begin with?" - yn

"i just threw together pictures and made it a logo. i didn't think it needed to be copyrighted." - wonwoo

she was sitting in his gaming chair while reading the email sent to him.

"there's nothing you can do about this. but i can make you a new one." - yn

"really?" - wonwoo

"if you're not picky, i can have it done is about 10 minutes." - yn

"i just want a cat logo. i'm not picky. thank you so much, yn." - wonwoo

(yes i pulled this out of my ass at 1 am in the morning do not come for me.)

"thanks yn. i owe you." - wonwoo

"anytime, wonwoo." - yn

as she leaves his room, wonwoo felt a sense of... unease. why?

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ💓ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ badum.

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ

synopsis: wonwoo is a popular streamer known for his incredible gaming skills and good looks. He turned heads. but he hates the attention. he just wants to play games and earn money. one day he receives a letter. his apartment’s rent has almost doubled. no warnings at all. his current paycheck from streaming can’t shoulder those bills. he has no choice but to rent out his spare room. to who? a fresh art university graduate who has… 1. a stable job ✅ 2. talent for art and sculpting ✅ 3. many friends ❌ 4. social anxiety ✅ 5. no filter ✅ when his iconic cat logo gets copystriked, she comes to the rescue with a new logo for him. when his apartment’s walls start peeling, she fixes it. whatever he used to struggle with… the empty space... was now filled by her. so what does he *last player standing* do when her ex *enemy spotted* tries to take her back? heh. *clutch* he clutches.

inspired by wonwoo's gam3bo1 streams, falling into your smile & gogo squid (has hints of valorant)

pairing: streamer!jeon wonwoo x fem!artist!reader (ft. jeongcheol, soonhoon, junhao, seoksoo, verkwan)

genre: fluff, comfort, slowburn, comfort, pining, bestfriend!minghao

warnings: stalker ex, toxic ex, mentions of abuse, guns (game), cursing, hate comments, panic attacks

started: 28.12.23

ended: ?

taglist: join from my masterlist

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reidsbookclub · 10 months

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comfort fic for spencer reid x badass!reader watching one of those ASPCA-like commercials and spencer looks over and reader is BAWLING and he is so confused and yet wants to comfort r. maybe he promises to take her to the shelter the next day or something 👀? thank you <3

2 + 1 = 4?

AN: I’m sorry if this feels rushed. Also yes I know theoretically it’s virtually impossible for it to be the same cat but work with me here please I tried to make the timeline work since this is S1- S2 Spencer

Spencer was in awe of the sight before him here she was crying her eyes out, one would think something terrible and life threatening had happened but no, it was a commercial. Here she was, the person who Spencer had seen just a night earlier take down an unsub all by herself , crying her eyes out because the local shelter would be closing.

“Sunshine? Sunshine someone will adopt them it’s going to be ok” he said in a low whisper trying to calm her down

“But—but what if they don’t? What’s going to happen to them Spence? Will they be homeless—or worse?” She replied in between sobs.

“Ok what if instead of sleeping in tomorrow we wake up early and I’ll take you to the shelter. We can adopt one together—we we have been talking about expanding our little family after all” he said blushing to which looming up at him with excitement in her eyes she responded “now let’s go right now”

Spencer was amused at her child-like excitement “sunshine we can’t it’s 3:30 am” he said giggling.

•

She was the first to wake up, making sure to be ready by the time a half-asleep Spencer finished his coffee.

The ride to the shelter consisted of an excited Y/N screaming Taylor Swift and an wonderstruck Spencer taking in the view from the passenger side.

“I think we should get a puppy” she said, “a big fluffy one with a brown patch in his eye”

“That’s specific” Spencer muttered, and continued looking at our the widow, “ I was thinking more in the likes of a caramel colored bunny”

“But babe,” she replied, “bunny would be too much to take care of”

“And a puppy won’t?” He said chuckling.

They spent the whole 45 min drive talking about what animal they would adopt.

Once inside the shelter they passed a an African Grey parrot called Buckley, he used to belong to an elderly couple and would scream “spank me!” Every time someone passed. Spencer couldn’t help but be startled at the parrot shaking his head immediately.

As they approached the dog kennels Spencer could tell she was begins to feel discouraged not finding a pet that she felt connected to. It all changed when they stopped at the last kennel she saw a white and light grey fur Ragdoll cat. “Can we please see this one?” She asked the shelter volunteer.

They were both amazed at how the cat, whose name they learned was Dusty, walked right up to them and began asking for head and tummy scratches. “What’s her story?” Spencer looked up towards the volunteer. Who answer in a whisper, almost as if he didn’t want Dusty to hear and be reminded of it, “Dusty was abandoned two blocks away from here, she hadn’t eaten anything in a while it seemed like due to how skinny she was. But she never lost her friendly personality”

Spencer looked from the volunteer towards y/n and knew just by the look in her eyes that Dusty would be coming home with them. “Spence, babe I want her. Let’s take her home with us.”

“How soon can we take her?” Spencer asked the volunteer who scratched the back of his neck nervously, “well you see I don’t think you’ll want her..maybe how about…” but as he was looking for another cat to show them Spencer asked, “why not her”

“Well she got attached to another cat we have here at the shelter, a Chartreux, we wouldn’t want them separated but we also won’t pressure you to take both since the Chartreux, has been through a rough time. He is actually nameless at the moment which is sad because he’s a senior cat but his previous owner was brutal so much so he is blind in one eye.”

“Can we see him?” Spencer asked.

“Sure, he’s being checked by the shelter’s vet as we speak follow me”

The minute they saw the second cat from the window Spencer and Y/N knew that he would be going home with them and without looking at Y/N for confirmation he spoke loudly, “we’ll take them. Both of them.”

“Let me go tell the vet then”

As they were waiting Spencer couldn’t help but feel drawn to the Chartreux cat he hadn’t taken his eyes off

“You ok Spence? You seem spaced out babe.”

“He reminds me of Reginald”

“Who?”

A spaced out Spencer replied in a sad and nostalgic manner “He was my mom’s cat. She had him since he was a kitten, I was 8-9. I would call him Reggie, he was exactly like this cat but he wasn’t blind in one eye. I used to take care of him when my mom was first institutionalized. During my first year of college my roommate left the door open and Reginald left, he never came back.”

“Spence?” She asked, “was Reggie microchipped?”

“I don’t know”

“Excuse me?” Y/N said knocking on the window that overlooked the vets clinic station

“Yes?”

“Is either cat microchipped? We just don’t want any trouble if they are”

“Dusty isn’t but Im not sure about this one he’s been here since before I was working at this shelter, let me see” the vet replied.

“I’m sorry it looks like this cat is microchipped it belongs to a Diana Reid from Las V…”

“Las Vegas, Nevada address 42 Wallaby Way Apt 13B—she’s my mom. OMG Reggie is alive” Spencer interrupted. “I lost him my freshman year of college and he’s here in DC. How? Oh Reggie!”

The drive home consisted of Spencer telling Reginald everything he had lived through and for a split second she could see specks of child-like happiness in Spencer and with a job like theirs, that was the same as if she had won the lottery.

That night their bed felt smaller with two cats sound asleep by the end of the bed, using their feet as pillows but for the first time in the year they’d been together Spencer’s cold feet pressed on top of hers weren’t and issue.

•

Taglist

#spencer reid x y/n #Spencer Reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid #dr. spencer reid #I hope anon sees this #not my best work but it did have me tearing up sooo

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trutrustories · 6 months

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STUDY IN LOKI ROMANCE

Part 4: Heart of the TVA

Since we're only a few days away from the last episode, I decided to COUNT DOWN everything we´ve got so far ( that can be interpreted very easily as romantic ) and discuss what the actual fuck is going on with second season. Because even though I shipped lokius practically from S1E2, I absolutely did NOT expect this kind of development. (Not that I´m complaining)

Warning: This is gonna be LONG post, lots of screenshots, lots of SPOILERS, lot of "oh-my-god-they-so-cute" language, and little bit of meta.

I originally thought that this post would be everything at once, but since I have just too many screenshots this time around, I´ll have to split it. so every post will be one episode. Color coding means:

IIIIIIIIII = anything, that coud potentialy be just acting choice.

IIIIIIIIII = everything else (tzn.: whatever was written, and/or carefully prepared by filmmakers. )

side note: I already wrote, about how amazing it is, that Mobius is unable to fight but fights anyway and how beautifuly, and ridiculously brave he is HERE. But this is about Loki/Mobius interactions, so I´ll try my best not to talk about THAT. (Even when I´m really happy, that s2 continues with this formula and Mobius is still his completely defenseless while aggressively brave self. I love him, btw.)

EPISODE 1 HERE

EPISODE 2 HERE

EPISODE 3 HERE

check-list, episode 4 (my beloved): 33) changing clothes together not to be that person, but like... they always went through the door from TVA on timeline in their "camouflage disguises". So Loki couldn't use his magic to change their clothes. I mean... they even make turning off system that prevents magic plot point in this episode So unless they have some special device in TVA (which was never established) It is implied, that these two just spend some time changing clothes together, before going out. And that brings me to this specific moment: At the end of the previous episode we see them going through the time door (fairly soon after Victor Timely, in 1893 clothing) And this episodes starts with Victor ariving at TVA and wondering around the empty hallways. Alone. So let me get this straight: After we see them both walk through the time door, they end in that war room (were they met in ep1), just the two of them. Victor is.... somewhere. who knows where, who even cares? And they though: it is actualy priority number one to change our clothes. Yes, right now. Never mind, we have He Who Remains variant wondering around the TVA and everything is going to explode soon. We have to take our clothes off. RIGHT THE FUCK NOW. I´m sorry, film makers, but what the acual f-

34) Bickering like married couple (part 4) (but this time with EVERYONE else watching them with question marks above their heads. And these two idiots husbands probably didn´t even noticed xDD )

Also.... "It´s got your shape" 😳 really? really Mobius? And how would you- oh sorry, my bad, never mind. I almost forget you were changing clothes togheter MULTIPLE TIMES, so of course you would know that. ... right? 35) The "misunderstanding trope"

This whole scene is just... jeeez! Sylvie screeming at Mobius for wanting cake (while Loki already knows, that Mobius wants it, because he is in a stress.) He tries to stop Sylvie, but she continues. Loki circles around her and ends up right between them (cough...smybolism...cough) And Sylvie starts attacking Mobius because he doesn´t want to know his life on a timeline. While Loki is RIGHT THERE, knowing perfectly well Mobiuses reason´s and how bad she is hurting him, because episode 2 happened. Loki knows. And then she leaves, and Loki follows her. But Mobius doesn´t know, what we know: and that he went to her to DEFEND HIM. Jeeeeeeez writers.... thanks, for this perfect example of romantic complication. Dramatic irony 100%. I´m living for this relationship drama while everything around them collapses and explodes. 10/10 television!

Also... poor man needed pick-me-up cocoa drink immediately after 😭

36) Pie scene number two I have to say, I LOVED this scene. EVERY FUCKING WORD. philosophical conflicts? yes please. moral dilemas? give me more! but let´s focus on Loki defending Mobius. Him bringing up Thor into the coversation, and comparing his change on Earth (that he didn´t understand before) to his own change that came from spending time at TVA. spending time with Mobius. And he is standing infront of pies this whole time! basicly him low key comparing Thor´s love for Jane to his love for Mobius

And let´s not forget how obvious the difference between two pie scenes is! Because the first one is full of relaxed gestures, kindness and understanding. Just Loki and Mobius being intimite and open with each other 🥹 In glaring contrast with that, THIS scene, with Sylvie is full of conflict, tention and disagreements. The are standind, far from each other, and whole room has completely different (horror like) vibe.

37) THIS SHOT. just the two of them, right before the end.

God I love this episode so much! 💛💛💛

#lokius #loki #loki spoiler #loki spoilers #loki season 2 #mobius #mobius m mobius #loki and mobius

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secretswiftymarvelfan · 3 months

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The Demigod On Earth - Steve Rogers x Reader (Christmas In New Asgard)

A/N: Okay so this is the christmas oneshot that I had planned to put out at Christmas but in the end wasn't in a place to, however I absolutely love this oneshot and timeline wise I couldn't leave it until next year so you're getting Christmas in January!

Summary: There's no better place to spend Christmas than in New Asgard

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: Fluff! Minor Angst!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Masterlist / Main Masterlist

Christmas In New Asgard

Steve watched with an arched brow and amused expression as you fussed over JJ and his coat “Sweetheart, I think Bean has more than enough layers” he said as you tugged JJ’s hat down.

“Steve it is minus seven degrees Celsius out there, you might be okay being a capsicle again but I’m not letting JJ join you” you stated glaring up at him, still fussing with JJ’s warm layers.

“I just think you might be going a bit overkill, we’re getting straight into a warm car from here, then straight from the car to Thor’s cabin, he’s not going to be out in the cold for long” Steve pointed out as he gestured to the exit to the airport which he hoped you’d use soon.

You stood back up to your full height, hands on your hips “I’m just being precautious that’s all, what if the car breaks down” you reasoned.

“We’ll be fine” Steve reassured you “I just don’t think you need to be so precautious, I mean poor Scout can barely walk in these snow boots you got him” Steve added glancing down to Scout who looked very unimpressed.

Steve watched as you pinched your lips together, stopping yourself from smiling as you clearly recalled the first time you put them on Scout. It had been chaos like Scout was learning to walk all over again. At one point Scout decided jumping was easier than walking leading to Steve having to dive to catch the lamp and other things he nearly knocked over.

“He’s better now than he was before and I’d hate for him to get frostbite, golden retrievers aren’t built for this kinda cold” you reasoned.

“Okay but you’re not even wrapped up like we are” Steve pointed out gesturing to your much thinner coat.

“Do you have powers over the elements and the ability to make yourself warmer?” You stated arching a brow.

Steve had no response to that, his mouth opening and shutting and he tried to think of one. He was about to resign himself to the fact that he was absolutely losing this argument when JJ spoke.

“Mommy I’m hot” he whined tugging at his scarf to loosen it.

Your expression faulted and a victorious smile grew on Steve’s lips.

“Fine maybe it was a little overkill” you muttered as you crouched back down to help JJ “Is that better bean?” You asked once you removed his scarf and hat.

JJ smiled and nodded his head “Yep, are we going to Uncle Thor’s now?”

“Yeah we are, c’mon we don’t want to be late” Steve nodded guiding everyone out of the airport finally.

It was about a 4-hour drive from the airport to New Asgard. Steve sat in the front talking to the taxi driver as he sipped on some much-needed coffee, you sat in the back with JJ and Scout. For the first couple hours, you kept JJ entertained by pointing out all the amazing views but it wasn’t long until JJ was fast asleep his head resting against your shoulder, mouth parted slightly, he looked the spitting image of Steve.

Steve glanced over his shoulder at you, a soft smile on his lips as he looked at his snoozing son “You should try and get some sleep too, he kept you up most of the flight” Steve reminded you gently.

You shook your head as you stifled a yawn “No I’m okay, coffee should keep me going”

Steve gave you a knowing look, he’d bet fifty dollars that you’d be asleep in the next few minutes. Both of you had tried to get as much sleep as possible on the flight, flying overnight in an attempt to combat the jetlag. However, JJ was far too interested with the in flight entertainment to sleep which meant you and Steve were also periodically awake watching a movie or TV show with him.

“I’m fine” you reiterated as you shifted in your seat careful not to wake JJ.

However when Steve glanced back over his shoulder again fifteen minutes later you were also fast asleep.

You’d woken back up just as the taxi pulled into New Asgard. As much as you hated to admit it, having that two-hour nap did make you feel much more refreshed and awake. Valkyrie and Thor were stood waiting for you as the taxi pulled up outside Thor’s cabin, Thor with a massive smile on his face.

“Sister! It’s so good to see you!” he boomed as he pulled you into a tight hug.

You chuckled as you hugged him back “It’s good to see you too brother, looking much better too” You smiled, his figure pretty much back to how you once knew it.

“Yes, the diet and training regime is working well” Thor grinned as he patted his now flat stomach “But I’m looking forward to indulging myself at Christmas” he winked.

“Hi Uncle Thor!” JJ beamed as he looked up at his uncle.

Thor’s jaw dropped dramatically “My goodness you’ve gotten so big!” he exclaimed lifting JJ up so he was at eye level “You’re almost taller than me”

JJ giggled as he kicked his legs out “I’m not touching the ground uncle thor!”

Thor gave him a quizzical look before looking down “Oh right you aren’t” he said as he put JJ back down and ruffled his hair “Ah yes much better”

Valkyrie walked over and shook your hand “It’s great to see you your highness” she greeted with a smirk.

“I don’t think I have that title now that you rule” you smirked back.

“It is what the people still call you and it is my honour” Valkyrie said gesturing outwards towards the town.

“Fine, but I don’t need any special treatment” you relented, you looked around at the surrounding town taking in all the beautiful and magical Christmas decorations “I’m surprised to see it so Christmassy, I didn’t think Asgardians would celebrate it” you admitted.

“Me neither but the people love it, though not part of our heritage or religion, it has been embraced as a time for family and goodwill” Valkyrie explained with a soft smile.

“That is what it’s all about isn’t it” You smiled as you looked over your shoulder back at Steve and JJ who were talking with Thor.

“Come, I want to show you what I’ve done with the place” Thor grinned proudly as he gestured back to his cabin “You even have your own room little one” he added nodding down to JJ who gasped with excitement.

You and Steve exchanged a wary look before you said goodbye to Valkyrie and followed Thor inside. Neither of you had seen the state it was in during the 5 years that half the population went missing, but you’d heard detailed stories from Bruce and Rocket. While Rocket could easily overexaggerate, Bruce rarely did so you weren’t sure what you were expecting.

However much to your relief when you stepped inside it wasn’t a bare cabin with food and bottles strewn around, it looked like a traditional Norwegian cabin with accents of Asgardian designed throughout. Frankly, it was beautiful.

Thor took you all on a guided tour of his cabin, he pointed out the dog bed that he’d gotten specifically for Scout who instantly curled up and got himself comfortable. He then showed JJ to his room, explaining that it was the guest room which he decorated for JJ so he always had a room when he visited. The last room he showed you was the room you and Steve would be in.

“This is Korg and Meik’s room but I hope you like it” Thor explained as he led you inside.

“Where are they staying?” you asked.

“Visiting some of Korg’s long lost cousins back in New York, they’re called the Rockettes” Thor explained.

“Oh um, I don’t think-” Steve started.

“I have a photo here” Thor continued, grabbing a frame from the side which had 3 female rock creatures in.

“Oh… wow… okay… literal Rockettes” Steve muttered as he looked down at the photo.

“I’ll let you guys settle in and then I can give you a tour of the town” Thor grinned before making his way out.

You and Steve admired the room, there weren’t any posters hanging up but there was a lot of art made out of rocks and gemstones. One piece was even made out of bent-up scissors. As Steve made a move to put the luggage away you took the opportunity to check out the bed. You were expecting it to be rock solid but to your surprise, it felt like a cloud.

“Oh god I don’t think I can move” you groaned.

“Uncomfy?” Steve asked as he walked over.

“No, very, very comfy” you muttered grabbing his hand and pulling him down onto the bed next to you.

Steve let out his own groan as he made himself comfortable “How does a literal rock have a better bed than us”.

“I don’t know but if he doesn’t tell us, I’m taking this one” you decided, your eyes already drooping.

“We can’t fall asleep” Steve yawned “We need to stay awake”

“I know” you sighed, your eyes completely shut “but how about 5 minutes”

“Yeah just 5 minutes” Steve mumbled “JJ and Thor can have some bonding time”

You just responded with a deep snore.

The days leading up to Christmas were just as magical as you hoped they would be. You constantly had a warm smile on your face as you watched Thor and JJ spend quality time together, making up for all the time they missed. Not that you didn’t agree with Steve to shield JJ from Thor during those years, but you were glad it wasn't like that anymore.

They had snowball fights together, you helped JJ win by dumping a couple of feet worth of snow on top of them. JJ laughed hysterically as only Thor’s head remained above the snow making him look like a snowman.

Thor took you to all the different sights in New Asgard, showing JJ where his hammer remained. Thor’s face turned melancholy as he looked down at his old weapon.

When you got back to the warmth of the cabin you all made gingerbread houses, Thor and JJ teaming up together against you and Steve. It was a pretty close competition but you had to give it to Thor and JJ, even if they had eaten most of it already.

That evening you all made the trek out into the wilderness to see the northern lights. Thor organising a sledge pulled by a couple of Asgardian Wolves. When you got there the sky was completely clear, the perfect conditions to see the lights.

“Can you make them appear?” Steve whispered when the sky remained dark.

You shook your head “They’re solar so not elemental, all I can really do is keep the sky clear” You sighed.

Thankfully you didn’t have to wait much longer for the northern lights to appear. The look on JJ’s face when the sky turned a glorious shade of green and blue made the wait worth it. Thor lifted JJ up onto his shoulders so he could be even closer to the sky, while you stood back with Steve who had his arm wrapped around your shoulders.

“It’s so beautiful” you whispered.

“Not as beautiful as you” Steve replied which earned a snort of laughter from you.

“So cheesy Rogers” you grinned up at him.

Steve gave you an equally cheesy grin before he dipped his head and captured your lips in a soft kiss.

When the time came to return to the cabin, JJ protested not wanting to leave before the lights stopped but you could see the exhaustion clear on his face. So you promised that you’d come back out before going back home to Brooklyn but that he needed to get some sleep. He didn’t protest more and halfway home he was fast asleep.

Christmas Eve was then a relatively calm day considering the late night before. You all relaxed in Thor’s cabin, eating the gingerbread and watching movies. When it came to bedtime, Thor stopped everyone before they went.

“Here it’s the tradition to open presents today, however, I got special permission from Santa to wait until tomorrow, but he did drop these off” Thor said pulling out presents for all three of you.

JJ instantly started ripping into his present as you looked back over at Thor in surprise “Thor you didn’t have to” you said shaking your head gently.

“Just open it sister” Thor pressed gently.

You relented and opened up your present to find the softest set of plaid pyjamas inside. You looked over at Steve and JJ who also had their own matching sets.

“I’ve got some too, I thought it would be nice” Thor explained quietly to you so JJ wouldn’t hear.

“This is very sweet Thor thank you” You smiled softly as you hugged him “Right, c’mon Bean let's get you ready for bed so Santa can deliver the rest of your presents”

Christmas day was just as magical as the rest of your time in New Asgard. JJ could hardly contain his excitement as he woke you and Steve up and dragged you downstairs to open presents.

You agreed that he could open his gifts from Santa before breakfast, which consisted of waffles shaped like Christmas trees before everyone else got to exchange presents. Since there was a limited amount of space to pack the presents you and Steve had agreed that you’d buy each other a gift in New Asgard instead. Steve got you a sweet braided bracelet while you got him a new tin with Asgardian runes on it to store all of his sketching pencils.

You had hoped that maybe you’d be able to give him a second gift in the form of a positive test but you still hadn’t been lucky enough yet. You remained positive though, especially after your appointment with Dr Achebe back in October. Whenever it happened you knew it would be the right time.

“Now JJ” Thor started grabbing your attention “This present wasn’t on your list, but I hope you like it all the same”

You and Steve exchanged a nervous glance. You had specifically told Thor to stick to the list you’d sent him knowing that his idea of a perfect gift would be a dagger or something of a similar ilk.

“Thor,” you said in a quiet warning.

He simply waved you off with a smile and gestured for JJ to open the present. You held onto Steve’s hand tightly as you sat forward ready to intercept if needed.

As JJ opened the box his face lit up. Literally. A blue light was streaming from the box up onto JJ’s face.

You watched as JJ carefully pulled the item out of the box. It was a blue orb on a small wooden stand that emitted a gentle blue glow. Both you and Steve sat forward to get a better look, and as you did so you spotted something floating through the orb, like a fish but not a fish that you’d find here on Earth.

“Is that a Hippocampus?” you muttered in amazement.

“Yes, not a real one it’s simply a projection of one” Thor explained “There are other creatures that appear in there too, ones you’d find in Asgard, others from around the universe, I found a woman to enchant it so they’d appear”

“An enchanted nightlight” Steve said shaking his head in disbelief.

“I should be angry that you didn’t stick to the list but this is amazing Thor” you said barely able to tear your eyes away from the orb that held the creatures you used to see whenever you visited the lakes in Asgard “say Thank you to Uncle Thor” you gently prompted JJ.

“Thank you Uncle Thor! It’s so cool!” JJ exclaimed.

Once presents were all exchanged you sat down for Christmas dinner which was more like an Asgardian feast with far more food than the 4 of you could eat. Even Scout turned his nose up at scraps because he’d had too much.

Needless to say, you were all pretty much in a food coma for the rest of the day. You curled up beside Steve, both of you fighting to stay awake but ultimately failing.

You all ended the day by watching movies, one of which being Frozen 2 since you hadn’t watched it and Thor loved the Nordic elements in it. You were once again curled up beside Steve, and JJ sat next to Thor.

You were absolutely loving the film but when it got to the song ‘The Next Right Thing’ you felt Steve stiffen next to you. As you listened to the lyrics you realised why, it perfectly encapsulated how he must have felt during those 5 years you were gone. A glance over at Thor confirmed that suspicion when you saw the look of sadness and guilt in his eyes. Guilt that he hadn’t done the next right thing.

You gave Thor a small reassuring smile that you hoped conveyed that it was okay and you didn’t blame him for anything before turning back to Steve who had silver lining his eyes. You wrapped your arms around him tighter to remind him that you were back and never leaving again. He let out a shaky breath as he smiled gently back down at you, pulled you closer and kissed the top of your head.

That night when you went to bed you and Steve held each other close. A reminder and promise that whatever happened you were lucky to be back together.

Sharing is caring so please reblog if you enjoyed this and maybe even leave a comment to make my day!

I have no schedule, please don’t ask when I will be updating!

Masterlist / Masterlist

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#Niamh writes #DOE #Steve Rogers #Steve Rogers x Reader #Steve Rogers x Y/N #Steve Rogers x You #captain america

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bhaalbaaby · 7 months

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kinktober day 4

fantasizing, stuffing, breeding (i looked up stuffing and decided against that for me personally)

gale loves fantasizing about all the things he wants tav to do/what he wants to do to tav, especially during the early parts of their adventure together, letting his mind let loose to distract from the pondering of his orb lol so you can ponder his orbs ha ha ha he had a lot of time on his hands when he was in his tower in waterdeep so he can easily slip into erotic fantasies when alone in his tent, too shy to approach tav to make them a reality. he would love breeding. the thought of filling tav up with his seed with the chance that they could have his child is something he has thought about plenty. he does have a timeline on when he would like to start a family, but that doesn't mean he won't do the act before his timeline. the added riskiness turns him on.

wyll is fueled by fantasies and that's what keeps him from not acting up and not just taking tav the first chance he gets since he wants to go slow and be a gentleman. but if you could read his mind, you would see how freaky he is and how much he wants to give in to those desires. he also would be into breeding for similar reasons as gale. he wants to have a big family and watching tav swell with his seed would make him so proud. definitely would end up with stairstep/irish twins.

lae'zel would not be into either of these. fantasizing would be a waste when she could just do them. and on breeding: "hideous, to imagine a life where i couldn't partake in the pleasures of sex without the looming threat of bearing children."

shadowheart likes fantasizing as a rebellion against shar even if she gets punished for it, especially after opening up a little to tav about what she wants and desires. i don't think she'd be into breeding either. if tav is into it, then she'd try it, but i think she'd mostly be into draining just not inside of her lol

karlach fantasizes all the time. when she can't touch anyone it's what keeps her going even if it isn't the same as being with someone. her favorite fantasy would be sitting on someone's face until she can't walk anymore from cumming so hard which ends up in a lot of pillow humping in her tent. she'd be open to the idea of breeding mostly flattered at the idea that tav thinks she could be theirs forever and the mother of their child. she would definitely be into feeling the burst inside and giddy from the what if.

astarion would be into fantasizing, but i feel like out of the core companions that would, his would be the least sexual. they'd be mild fantasies on how far he can go with tav without sex, ei holding their eye contact, touching their shoulders, thighs, hands, etc, and random normal things they can do. like go on a date, being out and about without being afraid of them only using him for his body and how they make him feel. there are two sides to breeding for him. spawn!astarion would be into it if tav is into it, but the idea of having a child would terrify him to a point. ascended!astarion would never let tav go anywhere without his seed inside of them. definitely into mind games of seeing how long they can keep his seed inside without spilling a single drop.

halsin knows what he likes and wouldn't spend time really thinking about it. he would simply act on it as soon as he can. definitely into breeding. it's nature's call for him to plant as many of his seeds he can into tav and he must heed to his natural duties lol. personally surprised he hasn't had any mini halsins around already.

minthara wouldn't be into fantasizing as she would rather just do it. on occasion, she may yearn for something more, questioning what she was made for and her true feelings for her partner, but sexual fantasies? no lol. also not into breeding, well for her. if she could breed her partner, then yes. she would definitely do it as a mark of her ownership on them.

gortash would be a man of action. he wouldn't need to fantasize because his partner would just be there so he can act on it. definitely into breeding as a power kink and a sense of narcissistic pride. he made them full of his seed and the world will know and see how strong his line will be.

ketheric would let his fantasies consume him, but he wouldn't think about anyone other than his wife, even if he is with someone else afterward. nothing would compare to his devotion to her. he wouldn't be into breeding.

orin also would let her horrifically kinky fantasies consume her. they would veer on the kinks that are banned due to the morality of ie sn*ff and such that she would have a hard time convincing partner to be into. she would be similar to minthara as she would only be into breeding if she can fill her partner up. do not give her a child

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theshadowbendersblog · 2 months

Text

*Big One Piece Spoiler ahead*

I'm currently watching this show which aired in 1982 and ran for like a year, called "Mysterious Cities of Gold". It's quite an old series and very hard to find. Over the past couple of years many fans tried to upload it on various sites all over the internet but for some reason or the other, the show was taken out only a few weeks or a couple of months after the show was uploaded. Even if you try to google the show, most of the sites will tell you it was only one season but in reality it was 4 seasons. If anyone is up for it, I can provide links if it's still available. I was lucky enough to have been able to download all 4 seasons of it.

The show is interesting because it has so many similarities with one piece and i think Oda took some inspiration from it because

1. Back when the first season aired, Oda was probably just a kid

2. It even aired on Japanese television soon after, with the name "Taiyou no ko Estaban" (son of the sun Estaban)

The show is about the protagonist Estaban who lives in Barcelona, somewhat parallel to Luffy. Estaban can also command the sun and make skies clear even during the strongest of storms or rainfalls.

There are 3 more characters who run parallel with some op characters, Zia, an Incan girl who can read old and rare Incan texts and thus the Spanish govt. was always after her and in several instances they kidnapped her to find out what the incan scripts said about the cities of gold (El Dorado). She's parallel to Robin's character. There's a guy named Tao who's a descendant of an old advanced civilization called Mu who were known as the people of the Sun. They were famous for harvesting and using the power of the sun and they were technologically advanced (again somewhat parallel to the ancient advanced civilization in op). He's just like Usopp, good at fixing things and very crafty. In fact it was him who first provided the team with their first ship called Solaris. It had solar panels instead of sails and it had the power to run the ship 100 times faster than a normal ship running on sails. And just like Going merry, it got destroyed in an event. The second mode of transport they got was not a ship but a plane that looks like a bird.

Estaban was saved by a Spanish govt. navigator when he was just a baby. Ten years before the current timeline, the navigator named Mendoza (somewhat parallel to Shanks, since he uses one handed sword techniques and saved Estaban in the sea just like shanks saved kid Luffy) spotted a wrecked ship on a stormy night and the only survivors were Estaban and his father. The man hands Estaban over to Mendoza and then he was washed away. Ever since, Mendoza had been keeping an eye on Estaban. Estaban's father also handed Estaban a medallion on his neck that turns out to be one of the 2 keys to open 7 cities of gold that is scattered all around the world.

The story goes like this, many years ago there existed 2 advanced civilizations, Mu and Atlantis. They fought a huge war against each other over power resources. Alas they ended up destroying each other. Later some survivors of the Mu empire built 7 cities of gold all around the world where they hid tonnes of gold and several ancient technologies for the betterment of the world, and handed down 2 medallions to 2 generations of families. And as time passed, the medallions kept getting passed on among certain families and one ended up with Estaban and the other ended up with Zia. The high priest of the first city of gold (turns out he was estaban's father) said that the advanced civilization was so powerful and so technologically advanced that the survivors of the Mu empire knew that any adult who gets their hands on these powerful resources and tonnes of gold, would surely get greedy and fall to the bad side. And if the adults started fighting for these powerful technologies, they would end up using these advanced technologies again to destroy the world.

This is where it gets important for guessing what one piece could be. The high priest said the cities of gold and the keys to their doors were wished to have fallen into the hands of kids, because a child's innocence and wonder would never let the advanced technologies be used for bad purposes, like greed for power and war.

We are now aware of how there existed an ancient advanced civilization in one piece too, that created cool robots like the one in Egghead island. And to think the robot is so advanced that even a man like Dr. Vegapunk couldn't get it activated or figure out what fuel does it run on.

What if, one piece is a child's toy? A toy that children of the 800 years old ancient civilization built and played with!! This is something Oda could do, a gag ! And he simply doesn't do gags, he makes things so silly, yet so meaningful. Where, if this theory is taken into account, and we consider that the one piece is indeed a toy that the children of the ancient advanced civilization played with, at the same time it could also turn out that the toy itself was so advanced that it was like a powerful technology for the normal humankind.

To support my theory even further, back when Roger and his crew visited Laugh-tale and figured out what one piece is, Roger laughed and even said something close to "I came at a wrong time, this is not my time to reveal or use the one piece". It's something that people are so serious about that they wanna turn the whole world down. But only someone with the innocence of a child can actually use the one piece, since no adult can value a toy as much as a child can. Which is why if recalled, op has always shown how boys like Luffy, Chopper, Usopp and the boys from Punk hazard are so fascinated with robots and cool mechanical machineries. And the term "man's romance" is always stressed at times like these.

If anyone has seen Ben 10 alien force and recalls that one episode where a mysterious cube shaped alien technology was mimicking anyone who attacked it, like Gwen, Kevin, their powers, and even transformed into every one of Ben's aliens and it seemed like a totally destructive and advanced weapon. But it turns out, it was just a child's toy from some higher dimension and the child's mother later came to earth and picked up the toy, saying that her kid had dropped the toy somewhere back when they came to the lower dimension on the earth, for a family picnic. Or to hang out or something like that.

I feel this little Ben 10 alien force scene is a coincidental yet strong correspondence with the theory i have proposed above. In short what I'm guessing is, there's a huge chance that in a story like one piece where Oda likes to just mess around like what children would like the most, with cartoonish art style and funny gags, where he not only shows us serious stuff, but never fails to make us laugh with his cartoonish composition of manga panels and the over all story, the one piece could very well be just a toy, like a robot or some sort of weapon or a machinery, which to normal humankind, would look like a powerful weapon and the adults will surely try to obtain it for their selfish desires. Whereas, only a child's innocence could make the utmost use of it.

#one piece #monkey d. luffy #cat burglar nami #roronoa zoro #black leg sanji #tony tony chopper #nico robin #franky one piece #soul king brook #god usopp #jimbei #anime and manga #one piece manga #mysterious cities of gold

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rosewaterandivy · 11 months

Text

Part 4. all fired up

Summary: Rumor has it, that hometown hero-turned-teacher Steve Harrington is hot for teacher. The English teacher next door to him at Hawkins High, who also happens to be his childhood friend, that is.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x chaotic!dumbass reader

Warnings: No use of y/n - reader goes by Trouble instead, depictions of drinking & drinking games, cursing, Eddie being shockingly graceful, and laundry room confessions

A/N: Modern!Teacher AU, English teacher reader, History teacher Steve, slow burn, friends to lovers, romance. Here’s 3.8K of multi-perspective tension, sexual and otherwise, and timeline fuckery; feedback and reblogs are appreciated, enjoy!

series masterlist | playlist

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Now - Spring break, March

Steve asking you to move into the loft was the last thing you’d expected. Not that the house hunt had been going so hot, to be fair. And you found yourself back on the couch of 4B more often than not.

He’d broached the topic with you a few weeks ago before school started. Seated at your desk and hastily applying your makeup using the mirror from a compact. Steve hung out with you most mornings before first period, shooting the shit and gossiping about students. Eddie and Robin would join you when they could, but usually it was just the two of you.

“Are we aligned for quarter 3?” You ask, attempting to curl your eyelashes without pinching yourself. “I’m doing Night just as you roll into WWII with AP World, yeah?”

Steve nods, “Right, we have the field trip to the Holocaust Memorial Museum before spring break, so that tracks.”

“Good,” you swipe mascara through your lashes. “We should send out the permission slips this week then. I’ll send out an email to parents if they wanna volunteer as chaperones.”

He goes quiet, as if he’s lost in thought while you begin the same meticulous process with your other eye.

“Y’know Nance is moving out soon,” he says casually, his loafer toeing the tile on the floor. “Her and Jonathan finally found a place; she’s thinking she’ll be out in time for spring break.”

“Ugh, finally,” you comment, setting the lash curler down. “Thought the day would never come.”

He laughs at your flippant response, watching as you continue your routine. And just as you were going to consider your makeup application for the day ‘mission accomplished,’ Steve says, “The room’s yours, if you want it.”

Shocked, you nearly stab yourself in the eye with the mascara wand, tears beading at your lash line, “Fuck!”

Dropping the wand and compact, you screw your eye shut in pain thus ruining your mascara. May as well accept you’d walk around looking like a raccoon again. It’d be funny if it wasn’t so ridiculous.

“Are you okay?”

“Considering that I nearly put my own eye out? Yeah, I’m just peachy.”

He cringes watching as you blink, “Sorry, that was probably my bad.”

“How,” you laugh, pain dissipating slightly, “I don’t recall asking you to do my makeup today.”

“No,” he huffs, “I mean with the whole asking you to move in thing. Shouldn’t have sprung it on you like that.”

Surveying the damage in the mirror, you admit defeat and grab for the makeup removing towelettes. “Mmhm, really missed an opportunity to wine and dine me there, big guy.”

The joke lands like a lead balloon. Ba dum tss!

You scrub the towelette across your face, paying special attention to your overly mascara’d eye, and pop open your moisturizer. “It’s not a big deal Steve, and you’re not wrong to bring it up.”

“Yeah, how you figure?”

Your shrug dotting on your moisturizer, “Solves two problems, doesn’t it? You need a roommate and I need a place to live.”

He stays quiet as you finish your ablutions, omitting the fact that they don’t necessarily need another roommate to make rent since his trust fund kicked in. But then again, Eddie and Robin don’t know that either.

“I guess,” he says, checking his watch. “Well, no pressure, either way. But I gotta bounce, I have hall duty.”

“Sure,” your voice is a clip as you zip the makeup bag shut, “See ya later.”

He gives you a small smile and wave as he leaves. The door closes behind him; the silence left in his absence deafening.

“It’s too soon, Nance,” Robin says, voice a crackle in the slow, calm of the morning.

Nancy considers her words, taking a sip of coffee from her travel mug. And true, Robin knows Steve well and is understandably protective over him. But Nancy knows you and Steve, and that you’re both chickenshit.

“Maybe so,” she breathes, eyes glancing out the window and settling on Steve helping you to unload a few boxes from your car. A half-hearted shrug, “But then again, maybe not.”

She had made quick work of moving out, room packed in an orderly fashion and boxes labeled appropriately. The moving company arrived promptly and Nancy had successfully moved out of the loft before you had arrived that morning.

Jonathan and Argyle would meet the movers at the house, and she’d head out then. For now, she observed the debacle unfolding on the street outside of the loft. You had packed your car in typical fashion, which was …chaotic, to say the least. When you and Steve couldn’t free a box wedged against the window of the backseat, you hollered from the street for Eddie until he woke up.

Understandably pissed, he trudged out of the loft in his sweatpants and a crop top that had to have been Robin’s at one point (a goldenrod yellow shirt with red text reading ‘Lasagna Del Rey’), muttering something about you being a dumbass. And now, Steve and Eddie eyed the boxes warily, debating how best to wrest them from the backseat and trunk.

“Sup, bitches?” You greet, having successfully snuck away from the boys downstairs, and drop your purse and a box by the door. “Ooh, are the girls fighting yet?”

Joining them at the window, you spy Steve yelling something at Eddie, who has taken it upon himself to open the sunroof of your car, thinking that the best way to unload the ridiculous amount of boxes in the backseat. He’s laid himself partially out on the roof and trunk, shoving an arm in through the opening, like a human claw machine.

“For fuck’s sake,” Nancy says with a shake of her head, “They don’t have a brain cell to rub together between to two of them.”

Robin snorts, phone out and already recording for posterity’s sake. “You can say that again.”

The boys, only somewhat successful in unpacking the car, badger the group of you in the loft until you’re annoyed enough to come downstairs and help. By the time the movers had arrived and placed the furniture in your new bedroom, your car had been unpacked, boxes organized by Nancy in the kitchen for the time being.

“The end of an era,” you say, hugging her goodbye. “Can’t believe the great Nancy Wheeler is shipping out to war.”

Robin and Eddie laugh from the living room, where they’re currently preoccupied laying out beers some semblance of a shape, a bottle of whiskey at the center of the coffee table.

She hits your shoulder playfully, “It won’t be that bad,” she tells you, “S’not like I’m dying over here.”

“Sorry, what was that?” You turn to Steve, stubbornly ignoring her presence, “I swear, it’s like she’s in the room with us.”

“Spooky,” Robin agrees, with a waggle of her brows, “I can’t remember the last time I saw Nancy Wheeler.”

She scoffs behind you, “Okay punks, I can take a hint,” and places her key on the counter.

Steve pulls her into a bearhug and says, “Oh, y’think you’re getting out of here without a rematch?”

Nancy pushes back, eyeing him warily. “You wanna go toe to toe with the reigning champ?”

“Hey, hey, hey,” you cut in, strolling casually to the living room and catching the beer Eddie tosses your way. “We’re all adults here.” Your voice is eerily calm and reserved, “We can do this with dignity, self-restraint, and, dare I say, honor.”

Robin grins, “The name of the game is True American,” tosses two beers Steve’s way.

Eddie counts it down, “One, two, three, four. JFK!”

“FDR!” is chorused in return.

Beers are cracked open and shotgunned with abandon.

“Steve, you’re in the lava!” you shout from your perch on the dining table, “Get outta there man.”

He stops drinking his beer and looks at you, puzzled, “I thought this was Nancy Reagan’s gun closet.”

“George Washington, Abe Lincoln,” Eddie croons, as you reach out to haul Steve on the table with you.

“Cherry tree!”

Robin whistles, swaying precariously on the windowsill, “All right Americans, ya ready? Let’s do the count.”

“One, two, three.”

You slap the back of your hand to your forehead, one finger raised and inspect everyone else’s numbers; Nance and Robin both had threes, while Eddie came at a close second with a two, Steve was dead last with a four.

Squinting, you smile and call out, “That’s me!” Moving unilaterally from the tabletop and stepping across a chair and stool to take your new position.

Steadying yourself on the countertop, you signal for their attention. “The only thing we have to fear–”

“Is fear itself!” they call back in response, “Drink!”

An hour or so later finds you several beers in and slung across Eddie’s back in a piggyback ride as he steps precariously across blankets and pillows.

“Jimmy Carter atop Grover Cleveland,” you say softly as he takes his turn, well both your turns since it’s turned into a team game now.

He stops and looks from left to right, “What now?”

Untangling an arm from where you’d wrapped it around his shoulders, you point to the right. “Over here.”

“Huh,” he grunts swaying slightly, “M’over here,” and moves another space to the right.

“I gotta get to the castle!” Nancy yells, hopping toward the coffee table with the help of an overturned barstool.

“Go, Nance, go!” you cheer her on, safely deposited on an armchair near the couch.

“JFK!”

“FDR,” you chant, taking another swig of beer, watching as Steve and Robin intertwine arms to pour beer into the other’s mouth. Most of Seve’s spilling out and onto his shirt as Robin laughs.

“Y’know,” Steve sighs, running a hand through his hair, “You’re pretty good at this Nance.”

She smiles, toasts him with her beer can, and takes a bow.

He thumbs his lip, eyes glinting dangerously.

“But not good enough.”

Slowly, you meandered from the armchair to the coffee table while Steve was distracted and grab the handle of whisky; check mate. You wave to Eddie from where he’s stood next to Steve.

“D-does this–” he blinks at you, dazed.

Steve turns quickly from Eddie to you and back again. “What–No!”

“Is it–” Eddie continues, treading carefully across the floor to the coffee table. “This means we win?!”

“Yes,” you crow loudly, “This means we won! Suck it Steve–who’s the King now!?”

Eddie picks you up and swings you around in victory chanting, “U.S.A., U.S.A.!” Your bright laughter rings out amidst Steve’s groans of defeat.

The next morning finds you all piled on your bed, groaning as the spring sun lances through the windows. Your brain is mush, leaking from your ears it feels like. You turn to get out of bed, cursing the sloshing of your stomach. Still reeling from your celebration after winning True American, you flop on the floor with an audible thunk and belly crawl toward the door.

“You okay?” a low rasp, followed by the rustling of sheets.

You grunt as someone scoops you from the floor, dragging you upwards. Body limp as a ragdoll’s you allow yourself to be carried out of the room, hazarding a glance behind to see Robin, Nancy, and Eddie still passed out on the bed.

Mmm, must be Steve then.

He was always quick to rally after nights spent barhopping in college, kept his liquor better than you ever could. Hands scrabbling for something to hold on to, you settle for the threadbare fabric of his shirt. He shifts you in his grasp, readjusting the grip he has on you and sighs.

“You’re…freakishly…quiet,” he whispers as he deposits you on the couch, leaning forward to get a better look at you, hair falling in his face.

Batting your hand at him blearily, you burrow down into the couch hugging a pillow for good measure. Steve leaves you, starting the coffeemaker in the kitchen and mumbling about the moving boxes cluttering the counters.

“Everything is shit.” You whine, “Fucking True American… Fucking whiskey. My bones hurt. I feel like I’m dying. My sweat is sweating. Did I even fall asleep in my own bedroom?”

Steve snorts because at least he wasn’t that sloppy. He doesn’t remember a lot from last night, but something like clarity returns to him, a chorus of cheers and something being tossed. “Was that before or after you took off your panties?”

You whimper and bury your forehead into the pillow beneath you, cheeks coloring in embarrassment. “You remember that? S’last time I rock a lace thong, felt like my ass was eating it.”

He shuts his eyes at the image, tries not comment on anything involving your ass. Instead he asks, “So how do we want the coffee this morning? Regular strength or trying to vibrate yourself out of existence?”

“Jus’ wanna feel normal again. Remember? Bones hurt.”

Steve hums in the affirmative, pouring the coffee into two mugs and adding a splash of creamer to one. He pads over to you, sets both mugs on the table and lets you choose. Opting for the black coffee, you take a bitter sip hoping to feel something other than remorse.

“Mmm, s’gonna be that kinda day I see.”

“All due respect, which is none,” you grouse, “You can fuck all the way off, Steve.”

He sputters the next mouthful at your response, and it catches in his nose, makes him choke and cough all over the coffee table. You suddenly follow suit, except it’s on your own spit and the two of you look like complete morons to Eddie, who is sauntering in, completely fine.

“Told you to lay off the whiskey last night, Trouble,” he says reproachingly. He pauses by the hallway entrance before walking out into the living room, stepping on the back of the armchair with the grace of a prima ballerina. You and Steve gape at how he balances on the back of it, reaching up toward the ceiling.

With a thump he lands back down, arm pulling back before a tiny purple thong quietly smacks Steve in the face.

“What the fuck!?” You shove Steve off of the couch in a poor effort to retrieve your unmentionables. He grunts and shakes it loose, one hand pushing your face back as the other grips your thong. He opens his mouth to cuss out Eddie but the look on his face shuts you both up.

Eddie looks like a dog with a bone. The cat who caught the canary. Smug and casual as he leans against the counter, arms crossed as he looks from your pink face to Steve’s, to the triangle of fabric in your hand. Eddie waggles his brows, sucks on his teeth, and grins– shit-eatingly proud.

“Thought you’d want those back, Stevie. You’re the one who took ’em off her last night.”

The rest of the day slips by lazily. Jonathan collecting Nancy around noon or so, offended at having missed a rousing game of True American. They say their goodbyes and head off to the new house, leaving the rest of you to clean up from last night and unpack the boxes in the kitchen.

Steve is trying to do laundry. He prefers to do it himself, though Robin always offers to throw it in with her stuff. That’s fine though, he’s got a system, one he’s perfected over years of uninterrupted Sundays doing laundry.

Anyway, he’s trying to do laundry when you saunter in.

On top of an empty dryer, you swing your legs uselessly. “Harrington,” you instruct seriously, “Don’t put the red sock in with the white stuff.”

“Yeah, no shit,” he retorts sifting through his hamper. Separating out the darks from the lights, whites elsewhere—it’s a system.

You tilt your head, amused, and stare at him. It’s midafternoon now, the boxes had been unpacked and your own items absorbed into the communal drawers and spaces of the loft. Robin and Eddie busied themselves with their usual activities, whatever those were, and the loft had been quiet save for the a/c kicking on.

“D’ya wanna talk about it?”

Your hesitant to ask, voice soft as you bite your lip. He stops sorting the clothes to look at you, brow furrowed.

“Talk about what?”

It’s only then that he notices you’re wearing his shirt. He shouldn’t be surprised, not really, you’re like a raccoon, always rifling through his shit and stealing his stuff. As if he wouldn’t notice.

An old white t-shirt from some vintage store or another that read ‘Stanley Cup.’ It swallows you, the white dips and stretches over your chest, and drops as its hem reaches the tops of your thighs. Your bare legs stick out, bottoms obscured by its larger size. You’re distracted by the material and fit, fingers tugging at the collar and adjusting the sleeves.

Something feels weird. Kind of funny like how a jab to the side hurts and tickles at the same time. Shock? Relief? Confusion, at the very least. He catches himself staring.

“Y’know,” you say after a while, hand stroking at your sternum languidly, “Christmas? We should get it out in the open.”

That snaps him out of it.

“Don’t you mean Thanksgiving?”

He goes back to sorting the clothes, anything to distract himself in the moment.

“What do you mean? Thanksgiving?”

If he had to pinpoint it, the moment this whole thing was set off for him, it was that first night in the cabin over Thanksgiving break. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, could barely keep his hands to himself.

He sighs, brushing away the hair that had fallen into his eyes frustratedly, “Yeah. When the idiots conned us into a one-bed-short situation? You got drunk, and I had to take care of you?”

He just stops himself from saying, like always. Just barley, but he does it. Steve knows this has been difficult for you, doesn’t want to belabor the point.

“Oh,” you say. It’s soft, maybe a little dejected, too. Your legs stop their idle swinging. “Sorry, I didn’t know—”

“S’fine,” he says with a wave of his hand, tosses in a load of dark clothes to the washer. “I mean, we probably should discuss it. Just for like, ground rules or something.”

He eyeballs the amount of laundry detergent and shuts the machine, turning the dial and pressing ‘start.’ As the washer begins its cycle, he leans back against it, arms crossed.

You take a deep breath in, “I didn’t want you to be that guy,” you admit, voice catching. “I couldn’t— I wouldn’t do that to you, Steve.”

“Then why did you–” he responds after a second, pausing to make eye contact, watches your wavering expression, wincing as you recall the events of last December.

“Jesus, Stevie,” you say gently, “You’re--my best friend.”

The door of the loft bursts open as he begins to reply. He takes you aside in the hallway, further from the laundry and closer to your bedroom. Hears Robin shout something about take-out orders, but dismisses it for the time being.

This isn’t for anyone except you and him. You can’t even articulate it to yourself, much less anyone else, so Steve nudges you into your room and shuts the door. You turn to him and the look in your eyes makes his breath stick to his throat. Jesus.

This is worse than sympathy and he wishes it were that simple. But this is heartbreak— and you’re the type of person who feels heartbreak in unimaginable ways. Steve shakes his head, doesn’t know how to navigate this part.

The first time this happened, he joked for your sake, and you laughed back for his. You both were younger then, inexperienced and wary; fumbling hands and lips after the Homecoming dance. The last time this happened, the glances were more pointed, the touches were measured and precise.

He’s thought about that night more than he’d care to admit.

Your mouth falls open in a hoarse whisper, “Sorry— I’m—”

“Hey, none of that,” he chides taking a step closer. “S’nothing to worry about.”

“But I—” you choke up, “I hurt you, Steve. I hurt you so much.”

He sucks a breath in. It was a lifetime ago. It was nothing. He was young and dumb and interested in Nancy, your best friend, and not the girl next door. And then, when he had realized his mistake, you were in love with somebody else— wearing his ring and planning to take his name.

Idiot.

He wishes he had a similar excuse for Christmas, but god knows he doesn’t. No excuse whatsoever, just raw feeling and need. He shakes the thought loose before it can take hold. Steve’s hands find purchase along your arms, his weight the only thing tethering you to the ground.

“But I’m okay. I’m good now. I got you with me. I’m okay.” All his rambling rushes out through a harried stream-of-consciousness. His thumbs running smooth circles against your skin, “You— You gotta stop cryin’. It’s killin’ me, honey.”

You blink your eyes, not recognizing the tears beading along your lashes. You press your palms into your eyes, take a deep breath in and out. “Okay.”

You keep to yourself for the rest of the day, only coming out for food when the take-out arrives. And even then, you eat quickly and make some excuse about needing to organize your room before leaving the table.

Robin eyes Steve suspiciously, “You two alright?”

He leaves the table rather than respond and follows you down the hall. Your door is cracked open, laptop playing some sitcom or other on the desk as you fold clothes on your bed. You pause hearing the groan of an old floorboard, “That you Steve?”

“Yeah, s’just me.”

Not turning from your task, you wave him in over your shoulder and continue pairing socks. He helps you return the clothes to their respective drawers and flops on your bed, exhausted, while you shut your laptop closed.

“Guess you’re staying then.”

“Guess so,” his voice is muffled by your impossibly comfortable duvet. Like clouds or some shit, Steve wonders passingly where you got it from.

Half-heartedly, you shove him to the side and turn down the sheets. You pat the side next to you and fluff up some pillows. He lays down next to you on the bed, propped up against a pillow or two, settling down for the night.

Steve watches as you burrow down in the sheets, mumble something incomprehensibly, body sliding briefly until you’re completely pressed against him. He tugs the blanket up and shifts so he can lie down comfortably, grabs your phone from the center of the bed.

He’s looking at your background wallpaper when you mumble something unintelligible in your sleep again. It’s a picture of him from a Zoom faculty meeting during the pandemic, brows raised at something some dumbass had said, you’d texted him a moment earlier saying ‘this idiot saying the quiet part out loud’ and he had to cover his laugh with a cough; you’d isolated his cell on the call and posed next to his face as it filled the screen of your monitor, a cheeky grin and thumbs up as Eddie snapped the photo.

A short sigh followed by a deeper one. “Yeah, you know.”

“Uh huh,” Steve smirks, entertaining your babbling. “Is that right?”

“Yeah.” A grunt, a huff of breath before you flip on your side, dreaming now. “Yeah. I love you.”

Steve fumbles and drops the phone on the floor, its screen going dark. He stares wordlessly at the deep blue of your ceiling, sleep-drunk words sinking to the bottom of his swollen heart.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #fanfiction #teacher!steve #stranger things #reader insert #the kids aren't alright - rosewaterandivy

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