⋆. 𐙚˚࿔ Nene 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

If you knew you were going to meet Jack Abbot today, you would have worn pants.

In your defense, it was nearly midnight and you were only opening the door because you ordered sundaes for you and Robby which were supposed to be delivered contactlessly. When you got the notification you went downstairs in what you happened to be in, which just happened to be a pair of sleep shorts that Robby liked to joke were tiny enough that they were glorified panties, and a black camisole, with no bra - because who the hell wears a bra after 8 pm if they don't need to?

When you open the door you're met, not with your ice cream sundaes sitting in a bag on the ground, but with a man. You assumed he was one of Robby's friends considering he was wearing the same pair of scrubs that you had gotten used to seeing Robby leave the house in most mornings. He was older, grizzled, head full of curly gray hairs, a little intimidating looking.

"Hi…do you have my ice cream?" you ask, unsure of what to do or say.

He hands you the bag that's in his hand, "Sorry, I didn't realize Robby had…company tonight. I'm Jack. Can I come in? I need to talk to him."

"Of course," you open the door and step aside. You're suddenly wishing you grabbed a hoodie or something as Jack follows behind you into the kitchen.

"Micheal's just in the shower," you say as you unpack your desert from the bag, "Do you want anything to eat? We got pizza from that place down the street for dinner tonight."

"No, thank you I'm okay."

The two of you fall into an uncomfortable silence.

"So, uh-" he clears his throat, "how do you know Robby - Micheal I mean."

"Um I came in to ER a few months ago because I'm a kindergarten teacher and I sliced my arm open while putting up decorations for my class," you show him your arm with the hyper pigmentation that is starting to fade because of the serum you got from your dermatologist, "And he did my stitches."

"He did your stitches? Usually med students and residents do those."

You shrug, "He was having a tough day, said he needed to do something easy before he slammed his head into a wall."

"And, what, you asked him out after?" he's subtle, but you can hear the accusatory tone.

You narrow your eyes at him, "Look, Jack, if you want to ask me if I'm only with him for his money then say it."

You're not stupid. You know how you look together.

"Are you with Robby for his money?"

You roll your eyes, a little offended that he actually asked, "No. Believe it or not, the fact that I'm young and hot doesn't automatically mean that I'm shallow."

"Listen it's nothing about you personally, but Robby hasn't exactly been in the best place mentally."

"You mean how he genuinely thought about killing himself after PittFest?" you raise an eyebrow, "He told me about that. He also told me about how his depression got worse again after the 'love of his life ' got a fellowship out of state."

"He called her that?"

"I call her that"

You can hear Robby walking around upstairs.

"I mean teachers are a notoriously underpaid workforce and -"

"Micheal!" you shout, "You have a visitor."

"Visitor?" He pads down the stares, slightly confused.

"Jack is here," you say, tone overly sweet, "I'll leave you two to your boy talk. If you need me I'll be eating my sundae in bed."

Jack looks at Robby as the older man watches you walk up the stares. He only blushes a little when he realizes hes been caught staring at your ass.

"What?" he mumbles as he takes he takes out a spoon to eat his own sundae.

"Good job, Rob. First the motorcycle, now the trophy wife?"

"Brother, why are you in my house?"

By the time Robby meets you back in the bedroom your finished sundae is discarded on the nightstand, and you're curled up in the middle of the bed with Kitty sleeping peacefully next to you, using your pillow as her pillow. He tries to sneak in next to you, but despite his best efforts, you wake up anyways.

"What was that about?" you yawn as you stretch out, making some room next to him - Kitty still taking up most of his side of the bed.

"Oh the anniversary of his wife's death is soon - he just kind of gets in his head this time of year and misses her more than he usually does. Shen sent him home because he was being too snippy tonight. He's gonna be staying over tonight if that's alright."

"It's your house."

"I know but I want you to be comfortable when you're here."

Instead of trying to move the cat, he slides in on the other side of you. There is not enough space for him, but squishing himself next to you is the better option then moving the grumpy pile of fluff next to you.

You nod, biting your lip. You try to settle against him again, but he can read you too well, knows there's something on your mind.

"What's going on in that pretty head of yours?" he asks as he presses a kiss to your forehead.

"Nothing," you mumble, wrapping your arm around his torso and laying your head on his chest, "turn off the lamp. Let's go to bed."

"Come on now," he urges, "Aren't you always telling me it's not good to bottle things up?"

"Do you ever listen to me?"

"How am I supposed to listen to you when you don't set a good example?"

You roll your eyes, "No I feel bad. I don't want to bully a widow."

"Oh," he chuckles, "now you have to tell me."

You look at him, "Promise me you'll at least hear me out."

You outstretch your pinky. He links his with yours - pinky swears are sacred to your students, and you've adopted them in your own life since you've started teaching.

"He hates me."

"No he doesn't."

"Yes he does."

"You only talked to him for 30 seconds, there's no way he hates you."

"Did he say anything about me bleeding your wallet dry?"

Robby laughs, "No. And if he did I would have told him to shut up. Why would he think that?"

"Because I'm a charming succubus sent from the pits of hell to seduce you and steal all your money?"

"He said that to you?"

"Not in those words. But he did basically interrogate me about my intentions with you."

"And what did you say back?"

"I said just because I'm pretty doesn't mean I want you for your money," you lean up, pressing your lips to his, "Just to be clear, I like your personality, your dick and your money."

"Ah, good to know. In that order?"

"Order varies on the day depending on how much you annoy me."

You pull him on top of you, his larger frame caging yours into the bed. You reach up with your legs to wrap them around his waist, but he pulls off you.

"No more, baby, you wore me out pretty good earlier."

You pout, batting your eyelashes at him, "Please, Mikey. I'll be so quiet I won't bother Jack."

"First of all we both know that is not true," the guest bedroom was underneath Robby's room.Even if he did manage to keep his hand over your mouth well enough to muffle your sounds, he'd hear the sound of the bed frame rattling against the wall, "Secondly, I would if I could, baby, I'm down for the count tonight. And besides my daughter is in the bed next to us."

You look over at Kitty, still snoring softly, one paw covering her face. You wiggle out from Robby's grasp.

"Where are you going?"

You just walk to the other side of the bed, picking up Kitty and placing her in the cat tree that resides in the hallway. Kitty barely notices, just stretches into her new spot.

"You kicked our daughter out so we could have sex?" Robby raises an eyebrow when you walk back into the room.

"Yup," you say, "and I'll do it again."

"Doesn't change the fact that I'm done for the night."

Robby's lying on the bed now, resting on the pillows making him slightly elevated. You crawl up the bed, settle yourself on his chest while his fingers ghost along your thighs, sending shivers up your spine.

"You've got a mouth don't you?"

He raises an eyebrow, "Oh so you don't care about me getting off do you?"

"You know I'll wake you up tomorrow."

You let out a yelp as you're being flipped over and your back hits the mattress.

"Will you now?" Despite his earlier "protests" his fingers are curling under the waistband of your shorts. You lift your hips up to help him take them off.

"Yeah," you sigh as Robby kisses your thighs, "I'll make it good too."

"How good?"

"Sloppy the way you like it," you hum, running your fingers through his hair as spreads your lips open with his fingers, "Lots of spit. I'll wear the mascara that runs the way you like it. I'll choke on it the way you like, let you cum on my tits if you want."

He moans, sending vibrations through your whole body.

Thankfully, the first time you meet Dana you're fully clothed.

Her car is in the shop, and an accident - which only resulted in a few criticals that arrived after handoffs - meant that her husband would be stuck in traffic for a while, and led to Robby offering to let her wait it out at his place. He remembers to shoot off a quick text telling you that Dana would be coming over for a bit.

"Just as a heads up, I'm seeing someone and she's over at the house right now," he says, pocketing his phone.

"Oh," she grins at him, "I thought you were seeing someone. You've been nicer."

He rolls his eyes, "I'm not that bad."

"You're not bugging Samira to move faster every 5 minutes. You've stopped pretending like Frank doesn't exist anymore and you've even started to flirt back with Myrna."

"I flirt back with Myrna because she scares me and it helps keep her temper at bay."

"Mhm," she pokes him in the side, "What's she like?"

"She's a teacher. She's lived in Pittsburgh her whole life, she's bakes on her free time and she may or may not be 30 years younger than me," his voice trails at the end of his sentence.

Dana stops, "30? Michael Robinavitch did you just say 30?"

"Give or take."

"You know, when you got the motorcycle I was like okay, he's going through some things but he'll come to his senses eventually. But Robby this is-"

"Stop. Honestly, I'm surprised Jack kept his mouth shut about it he met her last week and you know that man is a gossip when he wants to be."

"How long have you been seeing her?"

"Few months."

"And you haven't said anything about her till now? You know you shouldn't be dating her."

"Dana please," he looks her in the eyes, "Save any judgments till after you meet her. And then you can say whatever you want to me, okay?"

And so she's standing on Robby's front porch, waiting for him to open the door so she can meet his child bride.

You're standing in the kitchen with a smile, wearing a hoodie that Dana recognizes as one of Robby's and a pair of sweatpants with your university logo on the thigh. You greet him with a kiss before turning to her.

"Hi, you must be Dana. I've heard so much about you. I'm glad I finally get to put a face to the name."

"Oh, have you? I'll be honest I just learned about you on the way over here."

Robby furrows his brow at her. Okay, maybe Dana's trying to see if you'll fly into a jealous rage over a little comment, who can blame her? Robby has terrible taste in women.

Instead you laugh, "Yeah, I haven't really told my friends about him either yet. One of them does but that's mostly because she has my location and she figured out I had a boyfriend because of it. But, I'm not gonna sit here and pretend the age gap isn't significant."

So maybe Dana doesn't hate you right away.

"So what do you do for a living?"

"I'm a kindergarten teacher. I've been teaching full time for about 2 years now. Do you want some tea?"

Dana says yes. When the tea is done brewing you serve it with some cookies you made last night. Dana lets out a moan when she tastes it.

"Now you know why he keeps me around," you joke, poking him in the tummy, "The way to a mans heart is through his stomach."

Robby walks her out to her car when Benji finally shows up, "So?"

"She's sweet. I still think she's too young but I don't think she's a gold digger."

"You wanna tell Jack that?"

Dana laughs, "No."

Before she gets into her car she turns back, "Don't fuck her up, Robinavitch."

Rumors that Robby's got a sugar baby start flying around the pitt soon after. Donnie took his girl to a nice restaurant one night, was getting seated just as Dr. Robby was heading out. He'd only seen the woman with him in a glimpse from behind but that was really all he needed before he texted the nurses non work group chat.

Given its salacious nature, the rumor makes its way back to the pitt before night shift is relieved.

"Robby has a sugar baby?" Ellis accosts Jack as he's leaving the men's room. He jolts in surprise, and she laughs - she's never been able to rattle him before.

"Sugar baby?"

She rolls her eyes, "You are not that old, dude. You know what a sugar baby is."

"Back in my day, we had respect for our superiors," he says, walking back to central, "If I called one of my attendings 'dude' when I was a resident I would have been draining every abscess that came in for a month."

"Yeah, yeah, and then they invented electricity and your life got easier. Does Robby have a sugar baby?"

"How should I know."

"Because you're codependent. Have you met the sugar baby?"

"Ellis," his tone is stern. He may have his feelings about yours and Robby's relationship, but he was going to try and nip this in the bud for Robby's sake.

She puts her hands up in surrender, "I was just asking a question."

Obviously there's a bet about it. The categories range from your age, to whether or not your father is in your life, whether or not you're an actual escort. There's even a bet debating how good your sex life is, but no one is really sure how they're going to get the answer to that question (Santos says Robby flops around on top of you like a dead fish till he cums, Javadi says Robby looks like he's at least moderately considerate, and Langdon puts a good chunk of money on Robby being a sex god).

The rumours are spurred on when your friend gets admitted to PTMC. A boozy brunch ended with a valiant attempt to rollerblade around your neighbourhood which ultimately led to your friend wiping out and hitting her head on the concrete and losing consciousness. One 911 call later she was admitted to PTMC while your boyfriend was still on shift.

"What the hell happened?" Robby says when he enters the room, completely forgetting about professionalism, "I told you I didn't want to see you as a patient anymore."

"I'm not I promise," you smile at him and point to your friend, "she lost consciousness like a doofus."

Robby takes a minute to collect himself before remembering his script, "Sorry about that. I'm Dr. Michael Robinavitch what exactly-"

"This is Michael?" your friend cuts him off, "he's so old "

"Dude! Shut the fuck up and stop embarrassing me or else he's not gonna fix your bleeding brain."

Robby laughs, "Don't worry. I don't think your brain is bleeding but we'll get a scan to confirm," he whistles when he looks at your friends chart, "Blood alcohol level of .12 at 1 pm in the afternoon? What were you two doing?"

"Bottomless mimosas" your friend answers.

"Yeah if we were sober I would have remembered the helmet, I promise."

Every single one of the ED staff thinks this interaction is strange.

Robby doesn't do probable concussion cases anymore - he's too busy. And yet, he keeps checking even after he assigns the case to Frank and Mel, something they are more than capable of handling. Frank keeps side eying Robby every time he's in the room. Their relationship is a bit better now than when he first came back from rehab, but they're no where near close enough for him to ask about you.

By the time they get her up for a CT and admitted for overnight monitoring Mel bets for the first time - not an escort, early 20s, and judging by the way the collar of Dr. Robby's scrubs shift and expose something that looks suspiciously like teeth shaped bruises, joins Langdon in betting that the sex is good.

She collects her money the next day when your friend offhandedly mentions that the girl who brought her in has been dating "an old doctor who works in the morning" to one of the night shift nurses

"Oh guess who I met at parent-teacher night tonight?" you say when Robby sits down at the table next to you, ready to devour the leftover brownies you made for it.

"I'm guessing the parents of your students."

"Haha, you're so funny," you roll your eyes as Robby laughs at his own joke, "Turns out the 'Tanner Langdon' in my class is your Langdon's son. I thought the last name was a coincidence but nope."

Robby chokes on his brownie, you slam a hand on his back while he cough, "Did he, uh, did he recognize you?"

"Dude, you were not subtle when we came in the other week. Of course he recognized me."

"I am your boyfriend, don't call me 'dude.' Did he ask about us? About me?"

"I'll call you dude if I want to, dude," you give him a quick pick on the cheek when he rolls his eyes at you, "He didn't. But he looked like he wanted to."

"Good," he nods his head, "Not that I'm trying to hide you, or anything. If it were McKay's kid or something I'd be fine with it but things with me and him have been…rocky. How's Tanner doing? He's a good kid."

"He's doing good. He's having some behavioural issues but that's kind of normal when parents are separated, he's just having some trouble adjusting."

Robby looks at you, eyes wide, "Langdon and his wife are separated?"

"You knew that," You drop your face in your hands, "please tell me you knew that."

"I haven't spoken to him about his personal life since before his incident."

Robby still hasn't told you about why his and Langdon's relationship took a dip, just that things were a bit off between the two.

"I discussed it with both of them today, which I'm technically not allowed to repeat I just thought you knew about it. Langdon's got his own place for now, which causes Tanner to act out because he misses him but you are not to repeat this to anyone or I will lose my job."

Robby's decided that he's done talking about Langdon, pulling you off your chair and onto his lap.

"Of course I won't" his hands start to creep up under your hoodie, "But if you did lose your job then we'd officially move you in here. You basically live here already."

He kisses your shoulder, moving up to your collarbone, and then your neck.

"Oh, but Michael, if I don't have a job how would I pay you rent?"

His big hands make their way lower, palming the globes of your ass which are peaking through your sleep shorts.

"Oh I'm sure we could work something out."

After parent teacher night everyone knows that Robby's dating a girl less than half his age. And he hears about it. Anytime moony-eyed sorority girls make their way through the ED he gets paged to deal with them. Whenever a younger patient flirts with him someone makes a comment about him keeping his hands to himself.

(Jack tells him about a 19 year old patient that kept asking about him, "Did you ask out this one too?"

"Nope. I can barely handle the one I have now.")

And this comes to a head the first time you come to pick him up from work, carrying a container full of cheesecake bars.

"Hey, hun, what're you doing here," Dana says when she sees you.

"I had some time today and brought some snacks for everyone," you say when you leave the container on the nurses station, "but you specifically they're bribery snacks."

"Bribery for me? Whatever for?"

" My school does this career day thing every year where we get different professionals to come and speak to the different grades. Robby's going because he wants to keep reaping the benefits of being my boyfriend, and you are not under the same obligation - but you could be," you wink at her, "so I'm asking you very nicely if you would like to come in and talk about how nurses run the hospital, not doctors."

She laughs, "You know, kid, I had my worries about you and Robby, but I like you. Tell me when and if it fits in my schedule then I'll be there."

"Yay! Okay, I'll steal your number out of Robby's phone and send you the details. Do you want to share time with him or want your own slot?"

"Whatever's easier for you."

Just then Jack and Robby walk through the ambulance doors, ready for handoffs.

"Oh did someone bring treats?" Jack sees you standing next to them, "Are they safe to eat?"

While you have been able to make progress with Dana, Jack is firm in his dislike of you.

"Of course they are, Jackie!" you say, voice syrupy sweet, "I made this piece specifically for you."

You hand him a random piece from the container. He looks at it, knows logically you haven't done anything to the one he's holding in his hand, but passes it to Robby anyways who eats it, no problem.

You leave PTMC with an empty container and Robby's arm around your shoulder guiding you through the crowds of people in the waiting room.

"No way Dr. Robby can handle all that," some of the night shift nurses are snickering, not too far away from where Jack is working on the computer.

"He's so old. Does his dick even still work?"

"She's gotta be an idiot only with him for the money."

"Boys," Jack calls, dusting off his military voice, "Don't we have work to do?"

And as much as Robby would like to ignore the snickers and giggles, there is some truth to their words. He's not as young as he used to be, and as much as he wants to be able to give you whatever you want, whenever you want but sometimes after his long shifts his body just doesn't have anything left to give.

Luckily, Robby is a man of science.

So when you close the book thats he's reading, set it on the bedside table and climb into his lap he indulges you. But when you grind down on him, and he his cock doesn't stir against his thigh - not because of his lack of attraction to you, dear god no - but because he's old.

"Sweetie," he pulls away from you, "Wanna get something from the closet for me?"

"Get what?" you look at him skeptically.

"There's a box on the shelf. I think it's brown go bring it here."

And so you do, and he gets to watch your ass walk away. You bring the box, handing it to him.

"Micheal what is that?"

He takes out the magenta siliconde pad with the attched straps. He lifts his leg, fastening them around his thighs before grabbing the remote from the box, testing the buttons, watching the two bumps on the pad move.

"Never seen one of these before?" you shake your head, "Its a grinder. You put your pussy here, and I get to control the vibrations while you hump my leg."

"Oh you're treating me like a dog in heat now?"

"Yup," he patts his leg, "now hop on like the good girl you are.

You want to object but you do as he says, slipping off your shorts and the straddling his thigh, lining the bumps up with your clit and your pussy.The silicone feels foreign against your skin, you slide against it slipping easily.

You hear the sound of the remote click and then then the vibrations start as the two bumps start moving.

"Feel good, honey?" Robby murmurs, feeling your pulse quicken under his lips.

"Yeah," you keep your hands on his shoulders, using it as leverage.

He speeds it uo and you adjust your hips, reaching down to pull the hood of your clit, exposing the little bundle of nerves. Robby keeps his hand on your hips, helping slide you along the grinder.

"Just like that, baby, good fucking girl," he plays with the speed some more, learning how you react to each setting, stowing the information away for later.

"Mike-Mikey!" you call out, "Wanna cum. Lemme cum."

"Think you deserve pretty girl?"

You nod furiously, pressure building in your belly.

"Do it baby, cum all over me."

You call out his nameas you do, vibrations running through your body. He kicks up the speed, flexing his thigh so the grinder is right up against your pussy. You slump against his body, panting against him.

"How was that?" he asks once he turns the vibrations all the way down.

"S'good, Mikey."

"Think you got a couple more in you?"

Samira let out a laugh, before shaking her head and went back to watching fans pass. As it got closer to the start of the show, samira had gotten bracelets from fans, a group of teens had stopped and given out bracelets to jack and robby as well.

You giggled as you walked out on stage, in your fake towel, you could make of robby’s expression of confusion. You smiled as you slowly unwrapped the towel to show your dark blue bodysuit.

Due to the stadium being dark, you didn’t get the pleasure to see his flustered cheeks as he thought back to your question while you had dragged him out shopping.

Holding his hand, you lightly swung your clasped hands as you both walked through the mall. “Oh lets go in here.” You squealed, pulling robby towards another boutique. 

Your mask held up on your cheeks as you browsed through the clothing. Robby stood by you, watching with a smile as your wedding ring caught a flash of the stores overhead lights. You held up a shirt before placing it back down, shaking your head.

“What do you think I look great in?” you asked, making robby chuckle, his hands setting on your waist. “You look gorgeous in everything!” He kissed your covered cheek, you grinned and waved him off. “Ok mr. cheesey, but really though, what color?” You asked, already preparing yourself to take note for later on.

“I don’t have a preference babe, like i’ve said a thousand times, you look flawless in everything you own.” He reassured. You blankly stared at him. 

“If you were my age, i would think you were trying to get into my pants.” You deadpanned, making him smirk. “What color thong should I get then?” You asked, a smirk growing under your mask as he quickly became flustered. 

“Shh..” He looked around to make sure no one else heard you both. 

“It’s just underwear michael.” You grinned, and waited for his answer.

“You look great in that blue set you have..” He mumbled, you teased him and turned your ear towards him. “What did you say?” 

He shook his head at you, his cheeks red.

“That blue set you own is my favorite..” he whispered.

You grinned and nodded your head. “You like the dark blue..noted.” You grinned before walking toward the lingerie part of the shop as a flustered robby followed.

Robby watched as you began preforming, dancing as you smiled and enjoyed the crowd joining along.

As you walked further out on stage you sent a flirty wave towards the VIP tent, other celebrities fawned, assuming it was for them not noticing the dopey smile on robby’s face as he stood near the corner of the tent, a fairly good view of you from there.

After finishing a few songs you knelt down towards one of the secretary and whispered to him, motioning towards the tent before going back to performing, watching carefully.

As himself, jack and samira enjoyed the show, security had shown up and escorted the trio towards the front of the pit. Samira gave jack a wide eye stare as they stood right in front of the stage, she quickly pulled out her phone and began taking videos of you up close as you waved while passing by.

Fans watched as the stage went quiet before the beat to bed chem came on; robby’s ears turned bright red as he watched you prance over to where he stood and stayed there and sang.

“Who’s the cute boy with the white jacket and thick accent!” You winked at robby, a slight grin on your face before walking over to your backup dancers. He just grinned and shook his head, blush permanent on his face.

The verse had been an inside joke between you, robby and your label to avoid fans from catching on about your husband, you began explaining mr. tears as the opposite of robby.

“Maybe’s it’s all in my head but i bed we’d have really good bed chem!” You sang, posing for the camera as fans snapped thousand of photos of you from the front.

Samira giggled and took a video of her and jack cuddled up together and she mouthed along with the words, not noticing the lovesick look on robby as he watched you in awe.

You danced and grinned, as you spun around, once on solid footing your eyes found robby’s and grinned.

“Who’s the cute guy with deep brown eyes and bid bag mhm like–?” You sang, leaning towards the other dancers before kneeling down to face robby and his friends.

“I bet we’d have really good bed chem!” You sang, giggling as you noticed samira turn her camera away from her and jack to show you interacting with robby.

You quickly let the chorus play and waved to robby and his friends. You pointed to her shirt and winked. “Oh my god, me too!” You giggled before getting up to go finished the song in the middle of the stage.

“THAT DID NOT JUST HAPPEN!” Samira gasped in shock, turning the camera to show her shirt ‘I <3 Older Men’ Jack just shrugged and grinned while robby nodded and bopped his head to the rest of the songs.

- - - - - - - -

You stopped and took as sip of your water before picking up your mic once more, thankful you had finished majority of the show.

Your body craved a hot bath that would lead to you crawling into bed and muzzling yourself into michael’s chest. You pushed your craving to the side and moved on, you subtly make sure the long skirt you wore would fall on command before walking to the edge of the stage.

You walked out on stage, your two dancers close behind as it came to your favorite part of the show. “Wow, it’s such an incredible feeling to able to see you all dressed up for me, like I've seen some great outfits tonight, great makeup, hair, nails the whole everything!” You chuckled before speaking up again. 

“Great shirts too, not just the ones with my face on them!” You giggled, before looking over the crowd, smiling as you acted as if you didn’t already have your arrest planned.

“There’s just so many good looking people here tonight, damn– pittsburgh is treating me well!” You giggled before raising your hand to block out the stage light to pretend to search the crowd before gasping.

“I think i found a future husband!” You quickly ran back towards your dancers who handed the hand cuffs over. “Hurry up girls, before he makes a run!” You lead the two over, you knelt down and smiled as you spoke into the bedazzled mic.

“Woah, what’s your name handsome?” You asked, turning to mic towards robby who blushed and mumbled his name. “Michael..”

“What was it?” You turned your head to head, jack lightly smacked robby’s arm before answering for him. “His name’s Michael." 

“Well michael, what’s your last name?” You grinned, enjoying your flustered husband.

“Robinavitch.” He nodded, making you slowly nod before fanning yourself. “Do you need a missus, mr robinavitch?” You smirked, watching as samira filmed the interaction, excited to show her coworkers proof it wasn’t fake that he was picked out by you.

“Dr. robinavitch!” Jack corrected, making you fake gasp. “You're kidding AND he’s a doctor!” You playfully bit your finger before standing back up, “Good thing too, cause right now i have this weird feeling running through my veins, it feels hot and sometimes when i get like this, my clothes just fall off—!” On cue your skirt dropped to reveal a short one underneath. 

As the intro to juno began playing you leaned over and handed the cuffs over to him.

“I need to lock you down before you run away from me!” You winked before running to begin singing. Watching on the huge screen as robby took the handcuffs and bashfully held them, you grinned.

“I dedicate this song to you dr. robinavitch!” You giggled before singing. 

Robby felt glad he was away from the crowd and everyone had been focused on you to noticed the slight bulge he had gotten from your interaction with him, purposefully showing your cleavage to him twice that night.

“You make me wanna fall in love!” You pointed towards him before dancing your way up to the center stage where the platform was.

“If you love me right, who knows i might let you make me juno!” You shrugged, thinking on your feet what position you wanted your husband to be flustered over. 

As you sang, you kept his eye contacts, giggling as you noticed the slight bulge.

“Wanna try out some freaky positions?” You quickly got into cowgirl and arched your back the exact way michael had you in that morning.

You sang with a smile; Thankful teasing your husband was your job.

Robby shook his head and hid in his hands while both jack and samira teased him about you for majority of the night.

- - - - - - - -

Robby sighed as he stretched his back, half listening to the others in the breakroom.

“Did you see the juno pose the other night?” Samira asked victoria who sipped at her water bottle. “Nuh uh, what was it?” Javadi tilted her head and lightly tossed herself away from the sink and towards samira who held up her phone and played the video from a few nights before.

Javadi giggled and covered her face to hide her awe, watching as you sent a wink as you arched your back before continuing to belt out your lyrics. “She looks so pretty!” Javadi smiled, watching as mohan perked up and motioned towards robby.

“Juno arrest.” Mohan mouthed, javadi furrowed her brows and tried to figure the words out. “Arrest? Who was – OH MY GOD!” she gasped, turning towards robby who held his head in his hands as he attempted to keep himself awake.

“What happened?” He asked, lifting his head up. Javadi shook her head in disbelief.

“What were you doing at a concert?” Victoria asked outloud, watching as samira showed the video to her. “I knew someone who had tickets.” He lied.

“Sure, and they just gave up their VIP tickets to you?” Mohan raised a brow, shaking her head before going back to scrolling on her phone, javadi walked out of the room, shaking her head in shock.

- - - - - - - -

Laying in your bed, you groaned and rolled over to see robby awake, his glasses still on. You laid your head on his shoulder and looked around for his book but was shocked to see him watching an interview you had done a week ago, his usual nightly book placed on his bedside. Both his airpods in as he listened to your voice.

“Hi vogue, today i’m here to make some very drinks and food while answering your questions in honor of my latest tour!” You smiled at the camera, a fake kitchen behind you.

The camera showed as you slid over a tray with multiple ingredients.

“Firstly a drink, today we’re making not one but two drinks!” You smiled as you began explaining each ingredient. “This one is my husband’s, i like it make it for him after a tough day; it’s a brandy alexander!” You added, filling the shaker with ice before adding the liquor.

“What does you’re husband do for work?” A producer asked, reading a questioned from this list of them. 

You snickered and smiled at the camera. “He’s an attending, specifically though he’s in emergency medicine.” You nodded, before explaining the amount of each liquor. “Is he a scary boss?” Anothe rasked from behind the camera.

“He says no but i’ve never been to his work so i have to take his word, if you work with my husband and he’s an ass, i apologize!” You laughed. 

Shaking the shaker you answered more questions about the tour and album all while finishing the drink. 

“Have you ever tried this one~!” You teased before taking a sip from the small glass, your face quickly winced. “Ohh that’s strong!” You coughed, shaking your head and laughed. 

“Any takers?” You asked, watching as the crew shook their heads at the offer.

You shook your head before moving on to the next drink, “this one, i’m like ninety to twenty percent sure i was drinking when i met my husband!” You laughed before once again going over the drinks.

“You were sure?” A crew member asked, giggling. 

You nodded as you measured everything out. “I haven’t really said publicly how we got married/met really but it was a drunk vegas wedding!” You laughed, leaning over to take a sip of your other drink before returning to make yours.

“I sort of remember the begging of the night like after my show, my makeup artist wanted to go out for a drink and I agreed y’know; also if you're making this drink and wondering what the hell the measurement is, it’s a shot of creme de noyaux!” You pointed to the camera, your ring shining from the lighting.

“Anyways, we had made like small talk since i had gotten squished to stand between his legs while ordering at the bar; and then some creep walked up and was a lil frat boy vibe for me and basically i tossed my drink on the dude,” You stopped yourself talking to add another short of creme de cacao.

“Luckily he backed off and i guess my husband saw me do that and he bought me another drink which is…a pink squirrel!” You explained, smiling as you shook the mixer again before straining, a pink liquid poured out.

You took some left of heavy cream and whipped it before topping it off.

Robby watched you explained your cooking with a soft smile, his eyes creasing as he chuckled as you made mistakes.

You watched robby with a smile, taking in every wrinkle, gray hair and freckle before lightly kissing the side of his cheek.

He turned and chuckled as you stared at him with admiration. “You look very gorgeous in your interview.” He muttered, placing his forehead on yours.

“Thank you, had to look my best for my husband.” You giggled, quietly hearing your favorite part of the interview.

“I’m probably talking about my husband too much, i’m sorry.” You apologized, there was a beat before you spoke up again. “Forget it, i’m not sorry, i love talking about him so much!” 

The crew laughed as you shook your head and crossed your arms.

Robby smiled at you and chuckled. “Love you.” He spoke softly, leaning in for a kiss.

You smiled and pressed your lips to his, “Love you too...wanna practice for my next show?” You asked, earning a tired smile from him.

“Maybe tonight I will make you juno.”

“I will be back,” is all Tsu’tey says before striding over to where you and Jake stand.

“Oh my goodness, Jake, stop, seriously!” The way Jake keeps telling you jokes, your sides begin to ache and your stomach starts to hurt.

As you look upwards, you can see Tsu’tey coming toward you. “What’s up, brother?” Jake says as he goes in to greet Tsu’tey.

“Move, demon!” He scoffs, shoving Jake out of his path and walks in front of you. When you notice Tsu’tey’s ears are flattened, you realize that he’s mad about something but you don’t know exactly what yet.

“Tsu’tey, what’s wrong?” You ask, concern lacing your tone.

“Come. Now.” By the deepness of his voice, you know that he means business, so you push yourself off the ground and begin following Tsu’tey to your shared mauri.

When both of you walk inside, you close the flap behind you and walk up towards him. “‘Tey, what’s bothering you? Why are you so upset?”

“Why are you and Jake so close?” He questions, straight to the point as his tail begins to move behind him. This question has been burning inside him for weeks. He’s been wanting to bring this matter up to you, but he didn’t want to seem like he was making a big deal out of nothing. Now it’s gotten to the point where he can’t bite his tongue any further.

“Me and Jake are friends, so that means we are close.”

“Well, I don’t like it.”

“Why not?” You ask with a raised brow. You know Jake and Tsu’tey have a sort of complicated friendship, but you also know that deep down, he likes Jake even though he isn’t fond of admitting it, so you can’t understand why he’s against both of you being friends now.

“The reason is unimportant.” He murmurs as he walks to the other side of the marui, now silently regretting even bringing up the topic. He had a reason, but admitting it was the tough part.

You follow his path, unallowing him to wiggle his way out of the conversation. “No, it is important if it’s making you so upset that you pull me away from dinner, so tell me the reason.” Tsu’tey doesn’t respond to you, he just continues walking as if your words are falling on deaf ears.

“What is it, Tsu’tey? Hm? Is it because we’re close or are you just jealous?” A small laugh comes behind the word ‘Jealous’ because you never thought your mate would ever be jealous of anyone, especially Jake, but when you see the way Tsu’tey’s body language change; how he stops in his tracks with his ears folding down to his skull, it all comes to pieces that your unknowingly suspicion of him being jealous is in fact true.

“Why are you getting jealous of Jake?” You ask him in a soft tone as you walk in front of him.

"Because he's clearly all over you, that's why!” His voice begins to escalate as a flashback reel races through his head of all the times he’s watched Jake touch you. In his mind, every touch was romantic, nothing about Jake’s touch seemed platonic in his eyes.

It all begins to make sense to you. You now understand why Tsu’tey seemed so irked with Jake’s presence lately. “Oeyä tìyawn [my love], I promise you’re the only man I want. Jake is a nice guy, but I don’t see that skxawng as anything else but a friend.” You grab his hand and gently place it against your chest. “My heart only beats for you Tsu’tey. No one else can make me feel the way you do.”

A warmth begins to swarm Tsu’tey’s chest as your words kiss his ears. He knew that your soul was forever linked with his and that you would never look at another man with a loving stare, but to have you reassure him that he is your one and only love makes his need to be jealous slowly fade away.

“I see you, y/n.” His voice is much softer, coated with an affectionate tone as he pulls you closer to him.

“I see you, ‘tey. I always will.”

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“He is so precious.” you say softly as you lean closer to admire Neteyam. “Eywa has truly blessed you, Neytiri.”

Neytiri smiles, her gaze fixed on her son. “Yes, she has. He is my heart… but it has been so long since Jake and I had time together. Just the two of us.” Her voice carries a wistful undertone, missing the days when she and Jake could just be together lovingly as a couple instead of feeling the need to be in parent mode all the time.

She can barely remember the last time she and Jake had a date night, spent the night in each other's embrace, or were able to be intimate with one another. As much as she loves her son she needs a break, just a few hours of alone time with her husband so they can reconnect.

Hearing the tiredness in Neytiri's voice and the yearning coded in her words makes your heart slightly ache. It’s clear she desires a chance to spend quality time with Jake, to remind themselves of who they are as mates beyond their roles as parents. “Neytiri,” you say softly, placing a comforting hand on her arm. “You and Jake deserve time to alone. You both have given so much of yourselves to Neteyam, but it is just as important to nurture your bond with each other.”

She glances at you, her expression uncertain. “But who would watch over Neteyam? I cannot ask that of anyone.”

A playful smile graces your lips as you gently tap her arm. “Who said you have to ask? I am offering.”

Her eyes widen in surprise, and she sits up a little straighter, shocked that you’re willing to babysit her son. “You would do that? Watch over him?”

“Of course!” you reply, laughing softly. “I love spending time with him. And honestly, I think you and Jake need this. Have the night to yourselves. Go for a walk, watch the stars, enjoy each other’s company without worrying about feedings and nap schedules.”

Neytiri hesitates for a moment, looking down at her son. Neteyam stirs slightly in her arms, his tiny fingers curling against her chest, and her gaze softens with adoration. But then she looks back at you, a flicker of hope in her golden eyes as she begins to think about what the night could hold for her and Jake if she agrees to let you watch him. “Are you certain? I do not want to burden you.”

You nod firmly, sticking with your offer to take him off her hands for a while. “I am positive. I will take excellent care of him. Besides, he is perfect, Neytiri. He will probably sleep the whole time and will not even notice you are gone.”

A laugh escapes her lips, light and melodic as she places Neteyam in the baby carrier that’s wrapped around her body since her arms are starting to grow tired. “Very well.” she says, gratitude evident in her voice. “Thank you, sister. This means so much to me.”

You smile warmly, squeezing her shoulder gently. “You do not need to thank me, Neytiri. I am happy to help,” you say softly. “Just bring him by tonight, and enjoy your time with Jake. I promise, everything will be fine.”

—

You and Tsu’tey are currently at home, preparing your space for Neteyam’s arrival. Your cozy mauri is filled with the faint glow of bioluminescent plants you’ve carefully placed around the room to add some more light.

Your mate is seated near the fire pit, carefully sharpening his blade while you gather soft woven blankets and toys, ensuring everything is perfect for little Neteyam’s visit.

“You are certain this is a good idea?” Tsu’tey asks, his deep voice breaking the comfortable silence. His hairless brows furrowed, though not out of worry for the child but more for you.

Tsu’tey has seen firsthand how much energy a baby can require and he knows you’re doing Neytiri and Jake a kindness and allowing them several hours of peace but he wants to make sure you won’t get overwhelmed.

You chuckle softly as you arrange the blankets into a cozy nest for Neteyam when he decides he wants to crawl around and play. “He is just a baby, Tsu’tey. How much trouble could he possibly be?” You’ve had your share of babysitting, especially when you were younger and would help your mother take care of your siblings so looking after sweet little Neteyam was practically light work for you, you weren’t worried about how the night would go at all because you know things will go smoothly.

Tsu’tey snorts, setting his blade aside and turning to face you fully. “That small warrior may not walk or speak yet, but he already commands the attention of two of the finest hunters I know. Do not underestimate him.”

You laugh at Tsu’tey’s words, shaking your head. “I do not underestimate him. I have spent enough time with Neteyam to know how strong he’s going to be someday but he is just a baby for now.” You respond playfully while moving any items that are hazardous for a baby to get ahold of in a place Neteyem wouldn't be able to reach. “Besides, if he does decide to pull off some little trick, I will handle it.”

His eyes soften at the warmth in your voice, though his protective instinct still lingers. “If you need me, I will be right here. And if that little warrior starts causing trouble, I will gladly take over.”

“I am not worried, but thank you.”

Tsu’tey lips slightly curl into a halfway smile, glad that you’re confident. “Do not say I did not warn you when Neteyam tries to take over the whole place. He is a Sully after all.”

“Oh, I am sure he’ll be just like his father. A bit of a handful but with a heart of gold.” You pause and look at him affectionately, enjoying the back and forth banter. “And we both know you would not have it any other way.”

As you finish your preparations, you look forward to spending the evening with Neteyam, knowing that you’ll have his tiny giggles and quiet coos to keep you company. And, more importantly, you’re glad that Neytiri and Jake will finally get to enjoy a peaceful moment together.

Once eclipse finally comes, the sound of footsteps approaching your home draws your attention. Moments later, Jake and Neytiri walk through the entryway and into the common area, Neytiri cradling a sleeping Neteyam in her arms while Jake carries a small woven bag filled with baby essentials.

Neytiri’s expression is a mix of gratitude and hesitation, while Jake’s face lights up at the sight of you and Tsu’tey, thankful that he’s getting a little break. “Hey,” Jake greets, his voice a little softer than usual so he doesn’t wake up Neteyam. “You sure about this? Once we’re gone, there’s no turning back.”

“Go,” you say with a smile, rising to meet them. “Spend some time together. Me and Tsu’tey got this.”

Neytiri gently hands Neteyam over to you, her hands lingering for a moment as if she’s reluctant to let him go. This is the first time she’s leaving Neteyam alone with someone other than Jake or her mother since he took his first breath so she’s a little nervous about giving him up. “He has just been fed and should sleep for at least a couple hours. But if he cries—”

“We’ll handle it.” you reassure her, cradling the baby with practiced ease. “You trust me, do you not?”

Neytiri’s lips twitch into a small smile, nodding her head and allowing herself to relax and not worry because she knows her son is in good hands. “I do.”

Jake steps closer to Tsu’tey, placing his hand on his shoulder. “Thanks, man. Appreciate you doing this. If anything goes wrong—”

“It will not.” Tsu’tey interrupts with a firm and confident tone. He knows that you and him can handle taking care of the small warrior so he isn’t worried one bit. He crosses his arms and gives Jake a pointed look, one of his usual stern expressions. “Go. Your mate needs this time.”

Jake raises his hands in surrender, a grin spreading across his face as he realizes that his best friend is right that he and Neytiri definitely need these next few hours alone to spend time together as mates. “Alright, alright. We’re going.”

As Neytiri and Jake head off into the forest, their hands intertwined and their voices fading into the distance, you glance down at the baby in your arms. Neteyam stirs slightly, his tiny fingers curling around the edge of your necklace, and your heart melts at the sight. Tsu’tey moves to stand beside you, placing his arm around your waist as he gazes down at the baby. “He is… small.”

You suppress a laugh, leaning into him and resting your head on his shoulder. “Yes, and perfect.” Neteyam lets out a soft coo, his tiny face scrunching up before drifting off back to sleep.

Tsu’tey watches him intently, his fierce expression softening as he places a soft kiss on your temple. “We will do well.” he says, his voice quiet but filled with certainty about his and your capabilities.

“Yes, we will.” The two of you settle in for the evening, the peaceful sounds of the forest surrounding your home as you take on the role of caregivers for the night.

—

As Neytiri said, for the next hour or so Neteyam was sleeping peacefully but after a while he woke up energetic as ever. He was crawling around the marui, playing with some of the toys his parents brought for him so he could keep himself entertained, and every so often he wanted to be held, like right now.

While your preparing a snack for you and Tsu’tey, Neteyam makes his way over to you, tugging lightly on the decorative strings of your loincloth, communicating to you that he wants to be picked up. You gently set the knife down on the surface next to you, a soft smile forming on your lips as you glance down at Neteyam.

His bright golden eyes meet yours, and his tiny hands tug once more at the colored thread, clearly eager to be picked up. “You want to be held, hm?” you say softly, your voice warm and affectionate as you extend your arms to him, and with a delighted giggle, he crawls closer towards you, his small hands reaching for you.

You scoop him up gently, cradling him in your arms. He snuggles against you, his tiny hands grasping at your fingers as you stand up, carefully adjusting his position in your arms so both you and him can be comfortable.

Tsu’tey watches you for a moment, a soft smile on his face as he sees how easily you slip into this nurturing role. “You make it look effortless.” he says, his voice calm as he leans back against the wall, watching you with an appreciative gaze.

“It is not hard when he’s so sweet.” you reply, bouncing Neteyam gently in your arms, tickling his belly every so often which draws a few soft giggles from him. “He is so full of energy, though.”

Tsu’tey nods in agreement, his eyes softening as he looks at Neteyam. “The way you care for him… it is like you were born for this.” You feel your heart flutter at his words, but before you can respond, Neteyam starts to babble happily in your arms, reaching for the bowl of fruit you were preparing earlier.

“Lets get you something to eat, little one.” you laugh, shifting to grab the fruit you had chopped in smaller pieces earlier for him on the table. You balance Neteyam in one arm as you grab a piece of yovo fruit, offering it to him in small amounts so he’ll be able to digest it safely. He takes it eagerly, his bright eyes lighting up as he tries to gnaw on the soft flesh of the fruit and the new flavor dances on his palate.

Ever since you and Tsu’tey started courting he’s known he wanted a family with you, but seeing you like this, so natural, so nurturing, makes that desire all the more real. The thought of little feet running around the marui, tiny voices calling for their sa’nu [mother] and sempu [father], and their little faces with a mixture of you and his features feels closer than ever, not just the distant dream that once played in his mind.

Tsu’tey comes and sits down at the wooden table with you, his gaze lingering on you as you gently bounce Neteyam on your thigh while your hand is wrapped around his stomach to make sure he stays upright, his tiny fingers wrapped around yours. “You look at peace.” he murmurs, his voice low, starting up a topic of conversation that he hopes both of you can see eye to eye on.

You glance up at him, a soft smile gracing your lips. “I suppose I am.” you say, brushing a hand over Neteyam’s head full of hair, feeling his little tail brush against your skin.

Tsu’tey brings his chair closer towards you, watching as Neteyam slowly begins to drift off in your arms after burning off all his energy and filling his belly with fruit. He is quiet for a moment, as if weighing his words and trying to figure out how to phrase them. Then, in a voice that holds a sense of hope, he asks the big question. “Have you thought more about our family?”

You blink, a little surprised by the sudden question, but warmth fills your chest at the thought. “Of course,” you say, looking up at him. “I always have. I just… I thought we would wait until the time felt right.”

The topic of starting a family has come up multiple times over the course of your relationship and you both knew you wanted a family but neither of you put a timeframe on it, not wanting things to feel rushed or forced when there wasn’t any reason to be.

Tsu’tey reaches out, brushing his fingers gently over the back of your hand, looking directly into your eyes. “And what if that time is now?” His tone is steady, but there is something deeper beneath it, vulnerability, the side that only you and your future children are allowed to see. “Seeing you with him… I know now more than ever that you will be an incredible mother. Our children will be strong, loved, and safe.” He pauses, searching your face, trying to read the emotions behind your expression. “If you are ready, I am.”

Your heart swells at his words, at the sincerity in his voice. For so long, starting a family was a ‘someday’ thought, but now, with the love of your life looking at you with such devotion, such certainty, you feel a shift, the readiness of becoming a parent settling into your mind and heart. You smile, reaching up to cup his cheek, your thumb grazing his strong jawline. “Then we will begin trying.”

Saying those words makes reality set in to what your future can hold. A child growing in your womb, your belly expanding the further your pregnancy progresses, Tsu’tey treating you with the upmost care during the whole experience, and bringing your baby home for the first time, a physical form of the love you share for each other.

Thinking of all those moments makes your heart flutter with what’s to come and you’re ready, ready to start a family with the man of your dreams.

When Tsu’tey hears that his smile grows, his chest swelling with love as he leans in, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. “We will be great parents.” he murmurs against your skin, his voice filled with unwavering belief. He’s confident in your and his abilities, that whenever Eywa decides to fill your womb with a child that both of you will be ready for the lifetime responsibility.

The moment lingers, warm and full of quiet anticipation of the future as you and Tsu’tey begin sharing stories of what you think your children will be like.

Neteyam shifts slightly in your arms, his tiny sigh grabbing both you and your mate’s attention. You glance down at the little warrior, then back up at Tsu’tey whose eyes are filled with unwavering affection for you, and in that moment, you know that your relationship is evolving into something greater.

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Y/n “ ……..” you had waken up early in your mates home as, you need to get back to the human base for more oxygen packs. You soon removed your husband arms around you and got out of bed, making sure to cover your husband in the blanket.

y/n " okay just need to get to the human base and it will be good"

????? " yawne" you soon stopped dead in your tracks as your heard, tsu'tey your tall blue warrior husband had called you. It was dumb of you to think that you can get pass him and not him notice at all.

y/n " ........"

tsu'tey " I know you are up and not in bed with me anymore, so don't act like you can get pass me" you soon sighed knowing you were not going to win this game against him.

y/n " hello my husband" tsu'tey soon got up from the hammock and looked at you, he sighed before he bends down to look at you.

tsu'tey " where do you think you are going"

y/n " I need to get some extra oxygen mask I will run low by this afternoon"

tsu'tey " why most you get them and not later"

y/n " if I get them later I will forget it as we are always busy with stuff, and avatar body"

tsu'tey " well why don't you give up your human body and be navi for a day, and spend time with me and our family"

????? " wow dad trying to ask for a date with mom like that nice move" you and tsu'tey soon looked and saw spider standing there as avatar.

tsu'tey " oh hush boy"

spider " oh come on day I'm just playing around"

y/n " oh come on we can fight about this later on my husband, but I need to get these air packs for me and spider if we stay here as humans"

tsu'tey " okay I just worry"

y/n " there is nothing to worry about my husband" you had kissed tsu'tey check making him smile, the mighty warrior had never thought he will find love until he meant you. He also thought he will never have a family until you and him welcome spider into your family.

y/n " I will see you to later kiddo"

spider " yes mom see you later" you soon left the home and head off towards the human base, you were able to see there were enough oxygen packs for everyone and new ones being made as well.

max " hey there y/n it good to see you"

y/n " hey max"

norm " good you were here your avatar body is fixed and perfect for you to use again,if you wish to use your avatar body again"

y/n " I was just having a conversation about my avatar body with tsu'tey .... you know I will love to use my avatar body again"

max " good lets get you ready" you had nodded your head as you soon followed max and norm towards the avatar link bods. The team along with you had gotten everything ready and soon enough the process had happened.

y/n " wow it worked perfectly"

norm " good to see you in blue again"

y/n " happy to be back as my avatar I missed having times like this life with mask, all the times get tiring after a while" the two man laugh at your statement, and now you were back as navi walking around the base and helping around.

norm " I still can't believe you married or mated in navi terms with tsu'tey"

y/n " he a good husband and person he makes me happy"

norm " I still remember when grace found out you and tsu'tey were becoming closer then friends... oh she was so shocked"

y/n " oh yes I remember that day she said she was shocked that, I and tsu'tey were becoming so close then she had thought she even predicted that we will become a couple and she was right"

Scientist " hey none of us knew we will be making our lives here on pandora, and that some of us will become very close to the navi"

max " so should we be expecting you and tsu'tey to be having some kids, and have more avatar and navi kids running around here with Jake kids and spider"

Scientist 2 " that will be funny will they be like tsu'tey or be like you"

y/n " we have had the conversation of kids before so maybe"

max " well do what you want"

y/n " thank you max"

Scientist " hey quick question for you y/n"

y/n " sure"

Scientist " is your husband going to fight us or kill us" you soon looked and saw tsu'tey sitting on his dire horse he was glaring at, the humans that were so close to his mate.

Scientist 3 " if looks could kill we will be all dead"

Scientist 4 " I thought we were on friendly terms with the clan"

y/n " don't worry everyone he harmless"

Scientist " harmless are you sure"

y/n " yes when he not mad about something or fighting and hunting, but he very nice and respect you all"

Scientist " then why is he so mad"

norm " well I think he overprotective of you y/n navi are protective of their mates, and will chase or fight anyone who trying to steal their mate or cross some lines"

y/n " that my husband"

max " oh here comes your husband" tsu'tey had gotten off his dire horse and soon walked towards, you he soon wrapped a arm around you and looked at the others.

tsu'tey " I know you all her friends but if anyone here tries anything ... we are going to have some problems I hope you all understand well we will be leaving now" tsu'tey soon dragged you away as you looked at your friends some of them seem shocked and scared at the same time.

y/n " sorry" you had mounted sorry to them as they nodded their heads towards you, but soon stopped when tsu'tey looked back at them. Tsu'tey soon helped you onto his dire horse and soon took off making sure to spend the whole day with you.

y/n " you know you are cute when you are jealous"

Pregnant, Kocho had said, you’re pregnant.

She had sat there for a moment, too stunned to say anything right away. Her eyes flitted between the gentle look on the Insect Hashira’s face and the results of the blood work clutched in her hand.

Pregnant.

In retrospect, Y/N knew she shouldn’t have been surprised. Sanemi was a passionate lover, and she loved being the object of his passion, in both the bedroom and in those quiet, stolen moments shared at one another’s estates, away from prying eyes.

And sometimes, there were less-than-quiet moments where a certain someone had begged Sanemi to stay inside and give it to me, baby, please!

Okay, Y/N conceded, maybe those moments occurred more than sometimes (far more), and Sanemi had only been too happy to oblige her.

And so Y/N was pregnant.

“Well, that’s a surprise!” Y/N said with a soft chuckle, absent mindedly placing a hand over her flat stomach.

Kocho watched Y/N for a moment. “Y/N,” Y/N was surprised to hear Kocho refer to her by her first name, even more so when Kocho moved to place a hand over hers. “you are more than free to keep the child that comes from this pregnancy, or…” Kocho furrowed her eyebrows, struggling to phrase the information delicately, “we have things here that would terminate the pregnancy early. It would be painless.” She promised.

Y/N blinked in surprise. The thought hadn’t even crossed her mind, but the thought of not letting the the child in her belly grow… no, she couldn’t do that.

“Thank you, Shinobu, truly,” Y/N squeezed her hand lightly. “But I wish to see this through.”

Kocho nodded, withdrawing her hand to reach for a stack of papers stacked besides her on the small exam table. “Well in that case, I will need to inform the Master right away. You can still perform some missions for now, but nothing too strenuous. The first few months of pregnancy are quite tricky.” Shinobu began scribbling down a message, but paused mid-word.

“Y/N… is the father… involved?”

Ah. That problem.

It wasn’t so much a problem for her and Sanemi as it was for everyone else. When they had finally given in to the simmering desire between them while training more than a year earlier, neither of them had intended for it to continue. But one time had not been nearly enough, and suddenly, Y/N had found herself craving his voice, his touch, and his lips, and he, hers. It had not taken long for them to realize how ridiculously, stupidly in love they were.

But they had both agreed to not tell the other Hashira — or anyone — about their affair. The decision mostly stemmed from practicality; the Master, while he did not oppose relationships amongst the Hashira, did have a practice of not pairing them up together once their relationship was made public. The Master believed, ultimately, it was too risky, as both would seek to protect the other, potentially to the detriment of civilians and other slayers alike.

It was a rational justification, but it did little to stifle the electricity which cackled between the two Pillars. It held little weight against the stony will of Sanemi Shinuzagawa.

Sanemi had been the first one to crack during an intense sparring session. He had caught Y/N off guard after she had dodged an attack, using the wind to pitch himself into her blind spot and sweep her shapely legs from beneath her.

But Y/N had never been one to go down without a fight, so she had wound the Wind Pillar’s haori around her fist mid-fall, and successfully brought him right down with her.

On top of her.

Sanemi had fallen with a grunt, his eyes nearly bulging out of his head as he realized Y/N had still managed to out-maneuver him, even after he had bested her. His full weight upon her, he had stared at her with a bewildered look in his eyes, breathing hard out of his nose as he struggled to collect himself.

His eyes flitted down once to Y/N’s fist, still wrapped in his haori, before they had lifted back up to her mouth, settling on that stupid, shit-eating smirk she had.

There had been no thoughts in Sanemi’s head as he crashed his mouth against hers in a flurry of lips and teeth.

Y/N had been frozen for half a second before she snapped back into herself and hauled him closer, meeting each demanding swipe of his tongue stroke for stroke.

Within minutes both of of the Pillars’ clothing had been reduced to shreds, and Sanemi’s head had found a home between Y/N’s legs. It had taken embarrassingly little effort on his part to bring her over the edge not once, but twice.

And when he finally flipped her on all fours and rammed his proud length into her desperate core, Y/N had come apart again, half-sobbing his surname as pleasure mixed with pain from overstimulation.

“You know my fuckin’ name. Use it.” He had snarled in between the ruthless snapping of his hips against her.

That night, Shinazugawa had made sure Y/N could only say one word:

Sanemi. Sanemi. Sanemi.

And when it was finally over, and the two had collapsed next to each other on the dirt ground of his training ring, spent and satisfied, Sanemi had told the sweaty Lunar Pillar that she was to report to his Mansion for training sessions forthwith.

Nightly training sessions.

Because one taste had ignited an inferno of desire between the two of them that could not be snuffed out. It could only be tamed when Y/N’s fingers buried themselves in his hair as his own tight grip on her hips and thighs left marks on her skin, his hips setting a relentless and savage pace as he rutted into her, wanton and needy. A fire that could only be soothed when Sanemi sent her hurtling over the edge of her pleasure and found himself free-falling after her, spilling himself inside her warmth until she was filled with nothing but him.

It had not been long before the emotional passion followed their more carnal desires. Y/N had known she was in deep when she had confessed to him her deepest fears of not living past the age of her elder brother and falling to demons the same way he had. She knew he felt the same way when, in the middle of the night, having been startled awake from some unseen terrors in his mind, he stopped leaving the futon they shared to sit out on the engawa stare up at the moon, instead seeking the comfort of her embrace, burying his nose into her hair as he willed his heartbeat to slow.

And so, for more than a year, the two Hashira had kept up the charade of being disinterested co-workers in public, concealing their endless passion, adoration, and concern for one another that they held in private. It appeared that none of the other Pillars were any the wiser.

The only difficulty now would be in how to tell him the news.

She would tell him, of course, the moment she returned to his estate in the dead of night, when she knew the other Hashira would be sleeping or out on patrol, far away from the grounds of Sanemi’s manor. Y/N would tell him, and then they would decide how to move forward, together.

Sanemi, who was so strong, so capable, was also so, so protective. He knew that Y/N was more than capable of handling herself on missions, but too much personal tragedy had scarred him and he found himself unable to leave her completely alone. Even if she had been assigned to complete what was technically a solo mission, Sanemi was always within a few miles to rush to her aid, should she need it. And Y/N was the same way with him. A true team, who could and would figure out how to deal with any obstacle.

But until then…

Y/N smiled, attempting to reassure Shinobu. “I’ll take care of it. Thank you, Shinobu, truly.”

Shinobu pursed her lips, debating whether to push her friend further on the matter. It wasn’t her place to pry, true, but she couldn’t help but worry.

While Shinobu knew Y/N could handle herself— very well — she also knew how it was to be a woman in society. Men were relentless in their pursuit of forcing women to do things against their will; their destructive creativity knew no bounds.

But Shinobu also knew that pushing any woman in such a situation could make her clam up, could make her resist help — or even treatment. So, Shinobu resolved to keep quiet for now, but to keep a close eye on Y/N throughout her pregnancy.

Had she known at the time of the Insect Pillar’s concerns, Y/N would have fallen off of Shinobu’s examination table in a fit of hysterics. The idea that Sanemi, Mr. Made-Madea-Piss-Himself-for-Harassing-a-Young-Slayer, would ever do anything she hadn’t wanted him to do was laughable — as if he didn’t have her begging and pleading for him to do more to her every night.

But Y/N didn’t know, and so she left the Butterfly Mansion without another word. Shinobu sent off her crow to the Master with the Lunar Pillar’s news, pulling Aoi aside to instruct her to monitor the pregnant woman throughout the upcoming months for anything amiss — bruises, unexplained injuries, general skittishness — and to report it immediately to her.

Shinobu may not have known the circumstances of Y/N’s pregnancy, but she did know she would not let harm come to her or her growing child.

———————

Sanemi had wept like a baby when Y/N told him that night.

The man who looked as though he were stone hewn by the wind itself fell to his knees and cried like Y/N had never seen before. He pressed his forehead against the flat expanse of her stomach, raining soft kisses across her abdomen as he held his love close.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he whispered, between the pressing of his lips against her skin while she ran her fingers through his windswept hair, “Thank you for this gift.”

After Sanemi wiped his eyes, he made sure to spend the rest of the night showing Y/N exactly how grateful he was, though with a newfound gentleness. Sanemi typically took her roughly in a way that had Y/N’s eyes rolling back into her head, begging desperately for more. That night, however, he had treated her with such softness and love that it nearly shattered her heart. He had spent the entirety of the night holding her tightly against him, her name falling like a prayer from his lips while he gently rocked into her, whispering how beautiful she was and would look as she grew his child.

The next morning was not as beautiful.

“You’re retiring.” He said sternly as he poured her tea first, then his.

“No, I’m not,” Y/N retorted evenly, “Kocho said I could take low-risk missions until my next appointment with her, and that she would reassess her recommendation then.”

Sanemi stopped pouring his tea, setting the pot down a touch too hard. “Y/N. The first few months of pregnancy are when the mother is the most at risk for losing the child. I will not have you putting yourself in situations where that is a very real possibility.” He reached for her hand, closed in a fist on the table. “I…” he struggled to find his words. “I watched my mother… lose a few pregnancies at the hands of my father,” he spat the last word, but when he looked up at her, his eyes were tender; pleading. “I do not want to see you suffer through the pain that she did.”

Y/N softened at that revelation. She had known about Sanemi’s painful childhood, but the news about his mother’s lost pregnancies was new.

But this was different. She was a Hashira, not a housewife.

“This is… our thing, right now, isn’t it?” Y/N asked lightly, holding her steaming cup of jasmine tea between her hands, relishing in its comforting warmth. Sanemi said nothing but nodded, as he waited for her to continue.

“I’m not ready to share us with the world just yet."

Sanemi’s lips tightened, and his eyes fell to the floor. “Are you…unhappy with this news? He asked quietly. “Do you… feel ashamed… of…” His voice trailed off, but Y/N heard what he was asking all the same.

Ashamed of me?

Y/N’s head snapped up, and within a flash she was on her knees before him, clasping his large hand between her smaller ones. Sanemi kept his eyes resolutely on the floor rather than meet her piercing gaze, and Y/N tightened her grip.

“I need you to look at me when I tell you this,” she tugged lightly on his hand. Slowly, his eyes lifted from the floor and rested on her face, and Y/N’s heart clenched at the softness she saw reflected in his lilac gaze.

“I love you.” Y/N said simply, a small smile tugging on the corner of her pretty mouth. “I love you and I love our child. I thank the stars every day for you.” Sanemi’s breath caught in his chest at her words, and his hand returned her squeeze.

“But as you said, the first few months of pregnancy are difficult. I don’t want this news out before we’re ready to share it, especially in case of,-“ Y/N shut her eyes briefly, trying to shake away the encroaching panic she felt at the idea of losing the child growing in her womb. “In case something happens.” She managed.

“But if I retire now, there will be questions that I’m not ready to answer.” She looked up at him through her eyelashes, feeling slightly guilty about the show she was about to put on. “But I need you to trust Shinobu’s medical opinion on this. To trust me.” Y/N pleaded, bringing his callused hand to her lips, brushing soft kisses over his scarred knuckles. “I need you to trust that I know my limits.”

Sanemi Shinazugawa would never admit it, but he was a sucker for Y/N’s pretty face. A bat of her eyelashes and a nuzzle of her face into his hand brought him to his knees in an instant.

“No dangerous missions. Minor demons only. Cleanup. That’s it.” Sanemi proposed, his voice gruff.

Y/N knew, of course, that Sanemi would still find a way to shadow her whenever she would be sent on a mission close enough to his location, and to be honest, she couldn’t blame him. After all, it was his child she carried. But he was willing to compromise — to try — for her.

So Y/N smiled. “Deal.”

———————————-

Pregnancy had generally been uneventful.

Shinobu had insisted at the start of Y/N’s second trimester that she abstain from future slaying missions (much to her chagrin and Sanemi’s joy), but she encouraged Y/N to continue training under the supervision of the girls at the Butterfly Mansion in order to maintain her abilities.

Of course, once missions were off the table, Y/N knew she had to come clean to the other Hashira.

Almost clean.

She had told them the essentials — she was with child and she was keeping it. Y/N and Sanemi had already agreed not to share that he was the child’s father, again out of concern that once the child had been delivered, the two would never again be permitted to share missions together.

To the other Pillars’ credit, no one pushed her for paternity details. Y/N suspected that Shinobu had shared her hypothesis with them, that the father at best was uninvolved, at worst, might attempt to do harm to her if he knew.

Sanemi said nothing in his own defense, and even talked Y/N down from screaming at the lot of them on his behalf. He informed her that as a result of Shinobu, the other Hashira had formed a little pact to protect both Y/N and her (their) unborn child at all costs.

Sanemi found great relief in this, given that he was still being sent on missions. The promise among the other Pillars meant someone was watching over Y/N at all times, should she ever need assistance. And, because he had also agreed to partake in this pact, Sanemi was guaranteed alone time with Y/N at her estate, without the added pressure of sneaking around the other Pillars. Thus, he had been content to sit back and keep the knowledge that she carried his child close to his chest.

And Sanemi had been so attentive to Y/N throughout the months of her pregnancy. He constantly worried about her comfort and sought to make pregnancy as easy as possible. He awoke at all hours of the night to fix something that would satisfy her insane cravings. He would arrive home from missions and kiss her so sweetly, Y/N thought her heart would burst, before pressing his ear against the growing swell of her belly to listen to his child’s small heartbeat and lavish Y/N with kisses and soft praises. In the later months of her pregnancy, he would be sure to rotate Y/N’s sleeping form throughout the night to ensure she wouldn’t wake up in pain or discomfort.

And throughout it all, he maintained his passionate physical love for her, though more gently so as not to risk hurting Y/N or their child. But he worshipped her body with such fervor that it often reduced Y/N to tears.

When Sanemi was away, the other Hashira took turns keeping Y/N company, and each Pillar took on a special role for her. Uzui and his wives showered her with new clothes, fitted to accommodate her growing belly, and the wives lauded her with compliments. Mitsuri had become her meal-time buddy, the two of them nearly eating their way through the entire pantry stock of both their mansions in a single evening.

And so, pregnancy itself, had been easy.

Labor, when it arrived, was an entirely different matter.

Labor hurt.

Y/N had known something was wrong the moment her water had burst, having barely registered the wetness that slipped down her legs due to the agony that followed, leaving Y/N feeling as though she was being ripped open from the inside.

Y/N’s ears rang with a scream she had not realized was her own until she felt her throat burn. Her knees buckled, and she would have hit the ground had Uzui and Rengoku not materialized out of thin air, having noticed her from across the courtyard outside of her estate. The pair stood on either side, working to catch her before her knees could bite into the rocks below.

“We need to get her to Kocho, right away,” Uzui said to Rengoku. “I can run ahead and let the Butterfly Mansion know we’re coming. Can you get her there?” The Sound Hashira asked Rengoku, who nodded.

“Come, Y/L/N, I’ll take care of you,” Rengoku said warmly, lifting her up into his arms before taking off at a break-neck speed. Y/N clutched the front of his robes, hissing as another wave of excruciating pain washed through her.

“Sorry- ah— Rengoku, I might tear your uniform.” Y/N said through gritted teeth, sweat beginning to bead on her forehead.

Regoku’s deep laugh rumbled from his chest. “No worries, Y/L/N! I have plenty of uniforms. He glanced down at his friend, a comforting smile tugging on his lips, “You do what you need to do to help manage the pain.” He added kindly.

Y/N held onto the Flame Pillar’s robes for dear life, as she tried to keep herself from crying out, head falling against her friend’s chest. Above them, a raven circled once, twice, before heading east, its wings beating frantically.

The Butterfly Mansion had just come into sight when the unmistakable scent of iron hit Y/N’s nose. She tried to sit up in Rengoku’s arms to look over the large swell of her stomach, panic beginning to spread through her chest. Before she could confirm the source of the smell, Y/N collapsed back into Rengoku’s arms.

“Is-is that-?” Y/N trembled, her voice unusually high.

Rengoku’s nostrils flared slightly as he too, took notice of the scent. He only had to tilt his head slightly to the side to see below Y/N’s pregnant belly, his expression grim.

“Kyojuro,” Y/N whimpered, her grip on the front of his uniform slackening.

Rengoku turned his gaze back to Y/N’s, his expression soft and comforting as a kind smile chased away whatever shadow had been there.

“You are doing so well, Y/L/N! Truly! You will deliver this child in no time.” He said warmly, the hand holding her against him squeezing reassuringly.

Y/N may have been in blinding pain, but she did not fail to notice how the Flame Pillar clutched her tighter to him, his pace quickening as he sped towards the Butterfly Mansion.

Rengoku had all but leapt the last length of their journey, swiftly landing at the entrance to Kocho’s residence. The Insect Pillar was already waiting outside for them, alongside Uzui and a small team of Butterfly Mansion girls who were prepared to open doors and clear hallways for them.

“Come with me,” Shinobu ordered the moment Rengoku’s feet touched the ground, her eyes scanning over Y/N’s ashen face. Shinobu’s gaze snagged at the bloodstain spreading across the lower middle of the light cotton kimono Y/N wore.

Wordlessly, the small group of Hashira swept through the halls of the Butterfly House, escorted by Shinobu’s staff. The Insect Pillar drew up short outside of a small room in the back of the main hallway, urgently motioning Rengoku through the doorway.

“Uzui, grab Y/N’s legs. Rengoku, move your arms to support under her ribs,” Shinobu ordered the two men as she dunked her hands in a bucket of cold, soapy water, quickly scrubbing at her skin. “You both need to work together to lower her onto the birthing bed.” Shinobu pointedly looked to the small, white futon that lay in the middle of the wooden floor, its blankets already pulled back in anticipation of the pregnant woman now panting in Rengoku’s arms.

The pain in her lower belly was unbearable, and Y/N could not stop herself from crying out as she felt the two male Pillars gently readjust her so they could lower her as Shinobu ordered. Hot tears clung to her eyelashes as she gasped out, breathing becoming difficult through the haze of the pain.

Shinobu, having finished cleaning her hands, moved to kneel at Y/N’s feet. The Insect Pillar adjusted the futon’s cotton blanket to cover Y/N from the waist-down before gently spreading her legs and propping them up on either side of her.

“Y/N,” Shinobu said firmly, rolling up the bottom of the futon blanket to Y/N’s knees so she could examine her friend. “Y/N, you need to get your breathing under control. Your distress is affecting your body’s ability to heal, and it will harm the child.”

Y/N whimpered, a tear rolling down her cheek. Eyes closing, Y/N took a shuddering breath, willing her heart to slow its wild thumping in her chest and her body to relax. She managed for all of two breaths before another wave of pain rocked through her, causing her to cry out.

“Dammit,” Shinobu swore, as a fresh wave of blood spilled from between Y/N’s legs, staining her trembling thighs crimson. Both Uzui and Rengoku stood back behind Y/N’s head, their eyes wide as the smell of blood hit them.

Shinobu wracked her brain, trying to think of something, anything, that would help her friend calm down enough to get her breathing under control, to get her body to stop fighting her labor.

“Y/N, does the father know? Does he know the child is coming?” Shinobu blurted, as she tried to wipe away the blood that was rapidly pooling beneath Y/N’s center.

It had taken a moment for Shinobu’s words to fully register in Y/N’s mind. Her heart stuttered as she remembered that Sanemi was on a mission, at least half a day’s journey from the Butterfly Mansion.

Y/N’s eyes filled with fresh tears not from the endless pain, but from the realization that Sanemi might not make it here in time, might not make it before she…

“He’s t-too far.” Y/N half-sobbed, back bowing off the futon as her body seized with the strain of labor, her eyes squeezing shut as she tried to breathe through the contraction.

Uzui stepped forward from his spot against the back wall. “Nothing is too far for me, Y/N” he said gently, “tell me where he is, and I can get him here in a flash.”

Shinobu nodded, patting Y/N’s knee comfortingly. “Where is he, Y/N? Does he live in a village nearby?”

Y/N shook her head furiously, her mouth opening to respond, but only a choked sob came out.

Shinobu pressed. “Y/N, you must tell Uzui his name, or else he won’t be able to bring him back.” Shinobu motioned for one of the Butterfly Mansion’s young girls to bring over a damp towel to dab at Y/N’s burning forehead. 

“Who is the child’s father, Y/N?” Shinobu repeated.

“It’s — fuck,” she hissed, her stomach feeling as if it were about to split open. “S-SANEMI.” She called out, body curling off the futon before collapsing against it once more, feeling exhaustion settling in over her bones, threatening to take over her consciousness.

The room was silent — dead silent — for a moment. Shinobu looked up to the two Male Pillars, her jaw slackened and her eyes wide, her shock mirroring that of both her comrades.

It had taken each Pillar another moment to re-correct themselves. Shinobu locked eyes with Aoi, a similar stunned look on her face, and silently ordered her to take up her position at Y/N’s feet. Once Aoi had knelt, Shinobu rose, and the other two Hashira swiftly exited the room, the former pulling the door to the birthing room behind her shut.

“No fucking way Shinazugawa is the father,” Uzui had hissed the moment the birthing room door had latched, his magenta eyes wild. “I can’t believe someone like Y/N would willingly have a child with that snarky little bitch.”

“You are not suggesting that Shinazugawa may have forced himself on Y/N, are you Tengen?” Rengoku asked quietly.

Uzui shook his head, scoffing slightly. “No. But I do think it's weird that she kept it a secret until the last possible second,” Uzui ran a hand through his hair, anxiously. “And he never said a damn word about it either. Maybe something happened that shouldn’t have. Maybe he feels ashamed.”

Rengoku eyed Shinobu, whose mouth had been pulled into a deep frown, her eyes fixed on the wall behind the Sound Pillar in deep thought. “Kocho? What should we do?” 

Shinobu also did not believe Shinazugawa would ever force himself upon a woman, but she could not deny the unease she felt at the revelation that Y/N had concealed the identity of the child’s father. “Go get Shinazugawa, Rengoku.” She said softly, “Uzui, you stay here. Shinazugawa is fast enough on his own. I want you here to guard the door.”

Rengoku looked quizzically at his tiny friend, but she said nothing more and so he hid the pair farewell and took off into the night.

“Guard?” Uzui asked, puzzled.

Shinobu pinched the bridge of her nose, eyes closing as a dull ache bloomed through her skull. “Unless and until Y/N asks for him, I want him kept out. I don’t imagine he would be a very calming presence.” Shinobu grimaced. “Frankly, I don’t have the patience to handle him right now. I need to keep her calm.”

Uzui nodded, moving only to send a crow for the Water Hashira to come assist. He leaned casually against the frame of the door once Shinobu had closed it back behind her, shaking his head lightly. Really, Y/N? He chastised, internally, Shinazugawa?

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

UPDATE (04/23/2026): I took down Parts 8 and 9 of You Were Never the Problem because after going back through them... yeah no ❤️ I wasn’t happy with them. My friends finally read it too and said it was good, just a little emotionally charged, which is very much what happens when I write directly out of my feelings lmao.

So sowwie everyone, those chapters are being reworked/rehauled because they didn’t feel true to what I established and I don’t want to keep them up in a version that doesn’t feel right to me. Thank you for being patient with me while I fix them 🤍and for those that read them thank you so much for enjoying it and atleast it was a nice treat to see what some of ideas have been lol.

♱ A Knight of The Seven Kingdoms ♱

♡ Valarr "The Young Prince" Targaryen

↳ Part 1: You Were Never the Problem | Part 2: Can we try? | Part 3: He was reaching for both of them. | Part 4: You brought yourself. That’s enough [you are here]. | Part 5: The First Thing He Ever Asked For | Part 6: The One That Looked Like It Could Never Break [You are here] | | Part 7: Why does love sometimes still fail to become courage?

↳ Part 1: You Must Be His Nursemaid | Part 2: A Prince and A Dragon | Part 3: Where Princes, Ladies, Lords, and Knights Gathered in Candlelight | Part 4: Silk Morning, Bloodied Field | Part 5: Where the Dragon Set Its Gaze and Bared Its Teeth

↳ What the Photographs Missed

↳ The Woman After the Dead

↳ The Prince in the Witch's Bed

↳ What a lonely thing it was, to be his wife | Part 2: If I lose myself, I lose it all

↳ My Only Peace Was You

↳ That is not my baby, you heathen | The Baby Is Built Like a Royal Loaf | The Princes Were Fine. Valarr Wasn't.

↳ His Promised One, His Ruin

↳ Even The Gods Watch Us Die: CH 1 | CH 2

♡ Aerion "Brightflame" Targaryen

↳ Part 1: You Were Never the Problem | Part 2: Can we try? | Part 3: He was reaching for both of them. | Part 4: You brought yourself. That’s enough [you are here]. | Part 5: The First Thing He Ever Asked For | Part 6: The One That Looked Like It Could Never Break [You are here] | | Part 7: Why does love sometimes still fail to become courage?

↳ They called me your wife again | Part 2: Yes, She's my Wife

↳ My Only Peace Was You

↳

↳

Baelor

Baelor would never forget the first time he laid eyes upon you at his mother's nameday celebration feast. You were from House Blackmont, sworn in fealty to House Martell, and a close friend to one of his mother's ladies. You donned a black velvet dress embroidered with small golden vultures, wings outstretched. Long, golden rings decorated your plump fingers, curving over the tips to resemble mock talons. House Blackmont was known for being ferocious. Though deep within your ivory shell, beat the heart of a sensitive soul who yearned for the love of a good man.

You were rounder, curvier than your sisters, standing almost as tall as your brothers. As you watched Prince Baelor approach, the old instinct to round your shoulders to shrink away nearly kicked in. Instead, you sat up straighter, making your spine rigid, and offered him a dazzling smile.

"My lady," he smiled, kissing your hand and admiring your rings. Once he was closer, you noticed his mismatched eyes. One of warm brown and one of shimmering blue. How unusual. How magnificent. "Might I have the honor of dancing with you?

"You may, Your Grace," you smiled, letting him guide you and lead in the dance. Feet moved in unison, your arm extending gracefully. A hushed silence filled the hall as all eyes were on you and the prince.

Gazes locked together, and you wanted him more than anything. It turned out that he felt the exact same way, much to his mother's utter delight. There was trepidation on your wedding night when the bedding ceremony arrived, nervous about being stripped in front of the attendees.

"I fear none will undress my wife but me," Baelor stated firmly, and King Daeron agreed.

You felt like a true beauty beneath Baelor's touch, his calloused hands stroking your plump flesh. Your heavy breasts seemed to fit perfectly in his palms, and there was such intimacy in the way he stroked your round stomach, tending to the flesh as if it were the finest silk. His fingers traced over the red and pink marks on your thighs and the underside of your belly, and his mouth pressed against your rounded thighs.

"The Gods have blessed you with such beauty, wife," he murmured, exploring every inch of your body. His words were not a lie as you watched his cock stand proudly between his thighs. Desire burned through him for you. He took his time with you, savoring every moment and dancing you into divine pleasure.

That love for you only deepened as the years passed, and with each son you bore him. Valarr, Matarys, Aelyx, and Baelon. Then, finally, a daughter, Viserra. Each one loved and cherished. Pride radiated through Baelor when he introduced each one to the court.

You wore the marks they left proudly on your body, and Baelor loved to kiss each one.

"No woman should be as adored as the mother, your body bears the beauty of each healthy babe you have given me," he whispered against your flesh, nuzzling your lush thighs before drawing an engorged nipple into his mouth. A lilting moan fell from your lips.

"Careful, husband, or you might fill me with a sixth," you cautioned.

"And they will be as loved as their siblings," he replied with a mischievous glimmer in his eyes.

After he spilled between your thighs, he placed his head on your chubby belly, enjoying the softness and warmth. The pure love reflected in his eyes as he gazed up at you, splayed between your naked thighs, very nearly made you flush.

"Give me a moment, dear wife, for I plan on worshipping you again," he smiled dreamily, making your heart quicken.

How he would make your body sing with his fingers, tongue, and cock. He mapped every sumptuous inch of you with his fingers, memorizing every dip, dimple, and ripple of skin.

A goddess reborn.

Maekar

The dappled gray palfrey between your thighs snorted as you aimed your arrow at the brown hare burrowing through the brushes. Once you had the mark in your sight, you let your arrow fly, and it landed on its mark.

"Well done," Maekar praised, a grin on his face.

"It's a wonder that horse doesn't crumble beneath her," Lord Cafferen mumbled, though the hunting party heard him, but only a few men dared chuckle at his joke.

The black destrier beneath Maekar stomped his hooves and whinnied as he whipped on the reins to turn him towards the man. A murderous fire filled those violet eyes.

"Husband," you cautioned. You were no stranger to these cruel japes, letting them roll off your skin like harmless droplets of rain.

To everyone's surprise, it was your second son, Aerion, who went for blood first.

"What did you say about my mother?" the seven year old scowled, hastily withdrawing his dagger and running toward the lord's horse.

Daeron ran after his brother, taking hold of him around the waist and pulling him back.

"You apologize to her now!" Aerion demanded, thrashing in Daeron's arms and baring his sharp teeth. Your little dragon.

"Might you get your princeling under control, my lord?" Cafferen sneered.

"I will not, because he is correct. Apologize to my lady wife, you bumbling idiot. How dare you think to insult her?" Maekar growled.

"It was a harmless jest, my prince, I meant not harm. Your wife does not look offended!"

"I was not aware you could read minds, Lord Cafferen," you replied coldly. "Perhaps your mind was elsewhere, concerned over the fact that your wife can not provide you with heirs. Shall I make a joke at her expense? Surely, you would not find that offensive."

Maekar smirked and turned his horse toward you.

"Apologies, my lady," Cafferen said before falling grimly silent.

"You can ride at the back," Maekar growled at Cafferen, pointing toward the end of the hunting party.

Aerion's smirk matched his father's, and he stuck his tongue out at Lord Cafferen, blowing a loud raspberry.

"Aerion," you scolded, yet could not help but laugh.

"Are you alright, mother?" Daeron asked softly after letting go of Aerion.

"I am fine, dear boy," you whispered, stroking his face.

"He is a fool, I could only hope to marry a woman as beautiful as you one day," he smiled.

It warmed your heart to hear those words. You were certain a third son grew in your belly, and you informed Maekar that evening after the tents were raised. He dropped to his knees, kissing your stomach.

"I had half a mind to beat Lord Cafferen to death," he murmured against the fabric of your lilac damask coat.

"Well, I am glad you didn't, as my sons need a father," you said, smiling and stroking his silvery hair.

"You are beautiful."

"As you often remind me, my handsome husband." Your fingertips stroked the pockmarks on his cheeks.

There was that hunger in his eyes, those rough, skilled hands tearing the hunting outfit from your body and standing you before the mirror.

"Our son grows in here," he purred in your ear as his hands stroked your soft, rounded belly. "Gods, woman, you drive me mad with desire." He gripped your fleshy arse, making you moan.

He made you straddle his lap, his strong thighs supporting you as you rode him. You had always been a skilled rider, and after your wedding, he gifted you three horses and watched you ride with admiring violet eyes. It excited him that you wished to join him on hunts and overjoyed when you provided him with two sons in quick succession.

His bearded face buried between your ample bosom. He never wanted a trembling, slight of a woman. He loved and adored every roll of flesh he could lay his hands on.

His voluptuous, powerful wife.

Valarr

Prince Valarr had never seen such beauty before, hardly believing the sight before his eyes. Your rounded figure, draped in vermillion silk, leaving exposed patches of sepia skin, warm and glowing from the sun. Thick curly hair cascaded down your back. The composed prince nearly dropped to his knees before you, wishing to kiss the bejeweled rings that decorated your fingers.

"Grandson," Myriah smiled, gently tugging you forward to make the introductions.

You regarded the prince with a kind smile, amused by his slack jaw and look of bewilderment in his mismatched eyes.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Your Grace," you said politely.

"The pleasure is all mine, my lady," Valarr whispered. "W…will you be attending the jousts this afternoon?"

"Indeed, are you participating?"

"I will be."

"Then you must seek my favor, Your Grace."

Myriah smiled slyly as she witnessed the interactions.

"I will do so indeed, for if I have it, I will be certain to win."

Heat overtook your face, and you dropped your head as you smiled.

You sat in the royal box next to the queen and listened to the gossip behind you. The court mistrusted those outside of Westeros; truth be told, they even held prejudice against the Dornish, even if they were part of the kingdom now.

"Prince Valarr cannot be interested in her."

"Look how large she is."

"She comes from strange lands; none will want her here."

Your heart sank a bit as you held the orange and white flower crown in your hand. You thought yourself above such cruel words, but they stung like sharp thorns." The ladies bristled happily behind you as Prince Valarr trotted over on his black palfrey and extended his lance in your direction.

"My lady, I beg the honor of your favour to bring me luck in the lists," he smiled up at you.

"You shall have it, my prince," you grinned, tossing it onto his lance. The ladies behind you fell eerily silent.

When he was declared the victor, he crowned you the queen of love and beauty and kissed your cheek. It made your heart flutter.

"He will never make you a princess," Lady Mallister sneered.

"I would mind your tongue, Lady Mallister. My grandson has better taste than you, judging from the horrid frock you are wearing," Queen Myriah said curtly, fixing the woman with a harsh stare.

You watched Lady Mallister flush and stumble over her words, no doubt scared to reply harshly to the queen.

"You will do well to remember this young lady is a guest at court by my invitation, and if you continue to be rude towards her, I can promise you will all find out how brutish we Dornish can be," Myriah smirked, patting your thigh.

Tongues stopped wagging, and the ladies hung their heads in shame. You had no doubt envy bubbled through them as Valarr danced with you during the celebration feast. He prided himself on being restrained, but that evening, he could not help himself as his hands squeezed you, feeling the warmth of your flesh beneath the silks.

"I must have you for my wife," he whispered, those mismatched eyes drowning in lust. He would not sully you and make you a mistress. You should be his princess and one day queen.

"Your Grace, you barely know me," you chided.

"Then we shall have a long engagement. I cannot let such a rare gem slip away."

"You truly find me beautiful, my prince?"

"Of course! I'm certain every man here has his eyes on you," he grinned.

In the privacy of the royal gardens, you kissed him, letting him unwind the silk from your body. The moonlight bathed your rich, sepia skin. So full and voluptuous. Valarr nearly wept as he caressed your curvy body, nose nuzzling your soft, full belly. In the spring, he made you his wife.

A rare, sumptuous jewel that shone in the Red Keep.

Lyonel

"What a clever little fox you are," Lyonel whispered, sliding his hand under your chin after you managed to trump him in dicing.

"It is mere luck, husband," you grinned, collecting your winnings, a nice pile of silver stags.

"Is it? Or perhaps you rig them in your favour?"

You gasped softly, pressing a hand to your generous bosom, nearly spilling over your tightly laced azure bodice. "How dare you accuse me of such behavior!"

"Mmm, and if I search every inch of you, I will not find any dice hidden on your person?" he mused, tracing one long finger over the large sapphire on your index finger.

"Do so, you will only feel the fool in the end."

He pushed out of his chair and tugged you to stand, towering nearly a head taller than you as a might stag would before a little fox.

"How attached are you to this dress, dear wife?" Lyonel asked, withdrawing his dagger from the scabbard.

"Very little."

He stepped behind you, sliding the dagger through the laces and cutting the fabric away from you until you were left in a simple shift. He picked up the tattered fabric and shook it, frowning as nothing happened.

"I was certain…"

"You have not checked all of me yet, husband," you purred.

He grinned, white teeth sharp and gleaming as he removed the shift from your body and rolled your large breasts in his palms. Still, there was no dice to be found as you stood naked before in all your glory. How he loved the softness of your stomach, your full, rounded hips, and that plush, delectable arse with a dimple in each cheek. Your beauty nearly brought him to his knees. Oh, to bury his face in that round tummy.

"It seems I was wrong, my apologies, sweet wife," he said, bowing his head. His cock stirred between his thighs.

"Come and make it up to me then," you smiled sweetly, pulling him toward the golden, draped bed. "Perhaps a third child will come to us."

His bearded face buried between your plush, dimpled thighs, and you squealed as he pleasured you. He made you ride him after that, those strong fingers gripping your flesh. Sweat glistened along his brow, desire swimming in his deep brown eyes, and a cherry flush gripping his cheeks.

"Is my stag growing tired?" you teased as you rocked on top of him.

"Not at all," he grinned, clicking his tongue and rearranging the position so you were under him. He rutted against you until your large, lush thighs ached. He spilled inside of you, one cheek resting against your ample bosom in the aftermath. "I am certain you'll be with child soon, my little fox."

"And if I'm not, we'll try again until I am," you smiled, toying with his damp curls.

"Gods, I love you, woman. Every delicious inch of you," he hummed, tracing a finger around your pebbled nipple. "The first moment I saw you at the Maidenpool Tourney, I knew you would be mine."

"How gallant you were, riding on your steed with those antlers on your head. You were bold enough to tell my father that you would win my hand," you giggled.

"And did I lie?"

You reached for the soft, red fur and draped it over yours and Lyonel's naked bodies as he rested in your arms.

"You did not, and here I lie beneath you as your wife and mother to our two beautiful daughters. Who will have suitors of their own one day to win their hands," you mused, watching his head rise and fall with each breath you took.

"They will have to be worthy men indeed," Lyonel snorted. "I will not part with them easily."

"I would not expect you to," you smiled.

He rolled to his side, gathering you in his embrace and stroking your supple flesh.

His beautiful, soft, round, little fox.

Aerion

Prince Aerion was known to be vain and cruel. Trepidation set in as you were presented to him by your father, the betrothal arranged by Prince Baelor and Prince Maekar to reunite two Valyrian houses. You donned your best blue silk gown with silver sea horses shimmering on the fabric. A netting of freshwater pearls lay over your silver curls. A bit of nerves caused one foot to land heavier than usual, making your body jiggle slightly, and there were a few hushed snickers. You shook it off and held your head up high before curtseying in front of the princes.

You searched for disgust in Prince Aerion's violet eyes, but found none. However, a scowl overtook his face as the hushed laughter continued.

"If you fools do not shut up, I will have all your tongues!" he roared, wielding his dagger as he shot out of his seat.

"Aerion," Baelor said firmly, touching his nephew's arm.

"They insult my future bride," he huffed.

"Do not concern yourself with the sheep, boy," Maekar replied, and the room fell silent from his remark. Baelor frowned at his brother.

"We welcome you to court and are eager to begin wedding arrangements," Baelor smiled.

"We are honored, Your Grace," you smiled.

Two guards chaperoned you and Aerion as you walked through the gardens.

"You have good hips, you will give me many sons," he declared.

You spun around to face him. "You view me only as a broodmare?"

He shrugged. "It is your wifely duty, my mother had six children."

You huffed, gathering your skirts and hurrying away from him. His boots crunched into the ground beneath him as he followed.

"Seven hells, you can run fast for being so…"

"Large?" you finished his thought for him, hands on your hips.

He faltered for a moment. "I did not…"

"I've been called worse. I was once told I might cause my father's ship to sink."

Aerion winced slightly, taking a step back. "I do not care about your size."

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. "I find that hard to believe."

"You are the epitome of wealth and status; your frame simply reflects that. My mother was built like you, and my father adored her. As did I."

You had not expected such a reasonable utterance to come from him. He stepped closer, nearly standing the same height as you, and you suspected he might understand a thing or two when it came to teasing.

"It is good to know you can handle a chase," he grinned.

"Do you plan on chasing me often, my lord?" you teased.

"I do, once you are my wife."

His promise held true as he loved to chase you about the bedroom, tugging your clothing off your body and revealing your russet brown skin. You loved when his fingers tangled in your thick curls, his pelvis snapping agaisnt your plush arse as he fucked you from behind. Those teeth marked your plump thighs and hips. You didn't mind when he would trace his dagger over your skin, for he never truly hurt you, not in ways you did not crave at least. You were made of salt and sea, and dragons did not frighten you.

Not long after the wedding, you gave him a son and insisted he be called Daemon, after your ancestors. Aerion sulked, wishing for him to be named Maegor, but you could not give your son such a cursed name. The realm rejoiced as a new prince was born; one of dragon's blood and of the mighty sea. Your marriage helped restore House Velaryon to its former glory.

You gazed down at Aerion's face, buried between your fleshy thighs, his pink delving deep inside your core. How he lived to please you, how he desired you; lust dripping from him. It seemed you were able to quell his unruly ways, helping shape him into a better man.

All he needed was the gentle caress of a buxom wave.

Raymun

Raymun's jaw nearly hit the ground as he watched you dance among the guests in Ser Lyonel's tent. Unbeknownst to him at the time, that you were Lord Baratheon's sister. Though the golden gown you wore, decorated with black prancing deer, should have tipped him off. You hypnotized him with every twirl and elegant, quick footwork. Truly a sight to behold.

You rested at your brother's table and watched the young man stumble towards you.

"Might I offer you some cider, my lady?"

"Please," you smiled, stretching your goblet towards him. He filled it to the brim with the sweet smelling cider. You took a deep sip and hummed. "Delicious."

"Only the finest from House Fossoway," he grinned. He was a bit dopey, but you found yourself charmed by him. He had the sweetest brown eyes. "M…might I dance with you at the next turn?"

"You wish to dance with me?" you asked, surprised.

"I would, my lady," he said, sounding more determined this time.

"Yes, then," you agreed, finishing your cider before standing.

Raymun marveled at how you stood half a head taller than him. You braced yourself for an insult from him to change his mind. Most men were intimidated or turned off by your strong Baratheon frame. Tall and full figured, sturdy and fleshy. It annoyed you constantly that Lyonel was blessed with such a slender frame. Lyonel glanced in your direction, ready to chase the young squire off if needed.

"My lady, forgive me, but you are beautiful," Raymun breathed out.

Your cheeks heated. "You flatter me."

"I only speak the truth," he shrugged, kissing your hand before taking you to the dance floor. He was not very skilled in the endevours, but you found it endearing how he kept up with you.

"Careful she don't squash you, boy!" a man called out.

"Away with you, cunt!" Lyonel bellowed.

Raymun frowned and held your hand tightly. "He's a knave, not worthy of your time or thought, my lady. I will see you on the morrow." He kissed your hand again before flittering off into the night.

"That boy is smitten with you," Lyonel commented as the night began to end.

"A passing fancy, nothing more," you dismissed, waving your hand. Though you had to admit you were charmed by him.

"I know love when I see it. The apple boy only has eyes for you," Lyonel grinned.

You hated it when your brother was right. Raymun followed you around the tourney grounds, either with a fresh basket of apples in hand or an ewer of cider. You detested his cousin, Steffon, and yearned to sink your fist into his face every time he insulted Raymun.

When the tragic events of the Trial unfolded, you were thrilled to watch Raymun deal heavy blows to his cousin. Your cheering rose over the crowd.

"Get him, Raymun!" you bellowed.

How you cradled his battered face in your hands after and got lost in those soft brown eyes.

"I will make an honest woman of you now that I am a knight. I will marry you," he said with determination, a newfound strength, and confidence in himself.

"And I will say yes," you smiled, kissing his bloody lips.

Beneath your golden tent, you undressed him, and he did the same with you.

"I can hardly believe my eyes, perhaps I died on that field," Raymun whispered as his hands stroked your thick waist.

"You are very much alive, sweet Raymun."

"I will worship you every day."

You drew him between your thighs, stroking his back as he buried his way inside you. He nuzzled your neck, breathing in your sweetness and delighting in your warm, pliable flesh. To him, he felt enveloped by a soft, puffy cloud and felt divine. He suckled at your breast before spilling inside you.

A green apple girl was born in the winter.

Dunk

He met you on his adventure to Dorne with Egg by his side. There was a reminder of the one he had fallen for in Ashford, Tanselle. The hue of your skin was similar to hers, and your coarse dark hair was braided down your back. You were nearly her height as well, perhaps a few inches taller, with a thicker frame. He watched, dumbfounded, as you wielded your whip, lashing it through the air and wrapping it around the wrist of your opponent, knocking the dagger from his hand. Even little Egg was impressed and stunned, clapping and whooping for you.

The crowd cheered for you, and you raised your arms in victory, the muscles rippling. Your gaze landed on the tall man with hair kissed by fire and the bald boy by his side.

"I have not seen you around here before," you commented, winding up your whip and tucking the handle into your belt. Despite your muscular arms and thighs, your stomach was softer. A soft roll of flesh rested above your trousers, but you were unbothered by it, comfortable in your skin.

"We are visiting, my lady," the boy smiled. "I'm Egg."

"Ah, because you look like one?" you teased. "And you are?"

"D…dunk, Ser Dunk…err, that is Ser Duncan the Tall," he stammered.

"That seems a fitting name for you."

"I've never seen a woman fight in such a manner before," he said, the stunned look still on his face.

"You will find many things different here in Dorne. Come, let me buy you both a drink with my winnings."

You bought a cup of strongwine for you and Dunk and a cup of chilled lemon drink for Egg as the three of you chatted. You offered to show them around and escorted them to an inn where they could stay. In the morning, you came to collect them, and Dunk's piercing blue eyes lingered on your robust body. The top exposed your strong arms and soft stomach.

"We are not so demure here in Dorne," you winked at him, delighting in the way he blushed.

After a long afternoon, you dined with them at the inn, and Egg fell asleep rather quickly. You seized the moment and leaned in to kiss Dunk.

"Let the boy sleep, I have secured us another room," you whispered. You were not shy, stripping from your leathers as Dunk pulled his tunic over his head.

"I've not lain with a woman before," he admitted softly.

"There is a first time for everything," you said, drawing him close to you. It was not often you could peer up at a man. "Kiss my nipples."

He proved to be an eager student, following your commands, and soon his shyness melted away. However, the flush lingered on his cheeks, neck, and chest. He maneuvered you with ease, not intimidated by your size. The way his hands squeezed your rounded belly made you moan. Your strong thighs looped around his waist, drawing him close. He took no issue with your strength or commanding nature.

"Now you put it inside me, Ser Duncan the Tall," you quipped, a playful smirk on your face.

"That much I do know," he mumbled.

Once he was situated inside you, he began to flex and roll his hips, getting the slow hang of it. It was perhaps a bit sloppy and over faster than you would have wished, but his eagerness made it pleasant. It seemed to awaken a beast in him, and the next night, he held you against the wall as he took you.

"Seven hells, you are unlike any other woman," he panted against your neck.

"And you are not like any other man," you grinned, pleasure surging through your body.

He slept with his face buried in your soft, round belly that evening with his hands furled around your thick hips.

Deciding he could die happy between your strong thighs.

Daeron

Daeron pressed the golden dragon coins into the outstretched hand before being led to a private room.

"Your favorite lady awaits you, my prince," the madame smiled, pulling back the gauzy curtain to give him entrance.

You lay in the middle of the bed, naked as the day you were born, and sliding red grapes between your lips. Your hair fell in loose waves, cascading down your chubby arms and back. A siren waiting to beckon men, ready to enrapture them, and Prince Daeron was more than willing to fall into your enthralling grasp. Just as he had many times before.

"You are a sight for sore eyes," Daeron sighed, drawing in your plump body and supple skin.

You lifted the golden cup filled with red wine and beckoned him closer. His head rested between your full breasts, your warm, plump stomach cradling his side while your thick thighs cushioned the rest of him. Those rosy lips parted, and you dribbled the ruby liquid into his mouth. Your fingers combed through his unwashed, sandy hair. Ruby droplets clung to his chin and the corners of his mouth. Such a messy boy.

"You should let me scrub you up, my prince," you murmured.

"Do I stink?" Daeron frowned, sniffing his gaudy green and gold tunic.

"A bit, but nothing I can't help to remedy," you assured him.

You arranged for a bucket of hot water to be brought and took your time undressing the prince. He was as smooth as marble, but putty in your hands as you washed him up. You paid special attention between his legs, watching his cock stir to life. A good sign, one that meant he hadn't drunk too much that evening. It mattered not; he did not come to you for copulation. He had other needs he wished to be fulfilled.

"There, fresh as a flower now," you smiled, dragging your brush through his tangled hair.

"You remind me of her," he whispered.

"I know, dearest boy," you hummed. "My good boy."

He curled back into your arms, nuzzling his face between your voluptuous breasts, breathing in the sweet jasmine of your oil. You could feel the swell of his cock between your thighs, so you pressed them together, giving him a crevice to enjoy if he so wished. He rutted slowly between the dimpled skin, sweat tears of relief dribbling onto your skin. Eventually, his rosy mouth wrapped around your full nipple to take what it was he desired. Sweet milk spilling forth. You offered a unique service to the men of King's Landing; they were all just boys in search of a mother to fuss over them. Even the strongest of warriors.

You stroked his hair, cooing softly at him, and felt his seed spill over your warm, generous flesh. He shuddered in the aftermath, a warm red glow spilling over his pale skin. The frothy white liquid dripped down his plush mouth, and his periwinkle eyes were blown wide.

"Thank you," he whispered. You stroked his cheek, thinking it was better to be milk drunk rather than wine drunk.

The evening was spent with him alternating between suckling at your teats and rutting between your thighs until he was spent. You cradled him in your arms, humming a soft tune as the lanky man folded himself against you.

"I cannot sleep, or the dreams will come," he murmured.

"I know, dear boy, I will stay awake with you. You needn't suffer when you are with me," you said sweetly.

The night passed on, and he stood on trembling legs, filling a cup with red wine.

"I wish you were highborn, and we could wed." He knelt before you, resting his head in your lap.

"You will find a woman who makes you happy, and you will marry her. You will create little dragons."

But that will not be my fate, sweet boy.

As night descended upon Old Town, you tossed and turned in your sleep, consumed by an unrelenting yearning. The unfamiliar blankets and sheets, devoid of your scent, offered no comfort. Frustrated, you reached for a plush pillow, sitting up and clutching it tightly between your thighs. Slowly, you would rock your hips back and forth, pushing down your core with some friction to alleviate this frustration that burned between your thighs. Your eyes fluttered closed, your night gown slipping from your shoulder as your hips desperately humped the pillow beneath you. You thought of your uncle, you knew you shouldn't, and yet- you could not help but to think of how kissed your hand, the blue of his eyes, how he smelled of sage.

On the other side of the door, Gwayne awoke to a plaintive sound that he initially mistook for a cry. Even through the stone walls, the soft echo of his niece's distress reached him. With concern driving him, Gwayne rose from his bed, the urgency of his duty as her uncle compelling him. He slipped into a pair of pants and quietly left his room.

It was his responsibility to care for and protect her in this unfamiliar place, in the absence of their family. Moving with cautious steps, Gwayne approached her door. Normally, he would have knocked, but in his haste and concern, he bypassed this customary courtesy. He gently pushed the door open, making as little noise as possible.

What Gwayne had come face to face with made him freeze, his entire body tensing up as he looked to the figure of you, the princess, feverously humping a pillow. Your shoulder exposed and hard nipples showing through the sheer of the night gown. Your eyes were still closed as your hips rocked against the pillow. Eyebrows pushed together as soft cries left your lips. Gwayne was more than aware that he should not be there, that he should not be witnessing this, and yet he could not tear his eyes away.

Then you said it, "Gwayne." His name left your lips like a melody and it took one hush of his name to make him impossibly hard. To the point in stung and bulged from his trousers. It was then your eyes fluttered open, and in a few blinks they widened realizing that your uncle stood in the doorway. In a panic your hands grasped the pillow and brought it up to cover yourself.

"Oh, Gods. Princess, I'm -I'm sorry -" Gwayne barely managed to gush an apology as he had went fleeing the room, closing the door behind him as he went rushing back to his room. In the midst of his embarrassment he had been sweating, his heart racing as he stayed in the confides of his room.

He was still hard. Gwayne tried not to think about you. He tried not to think about how you cried as you humped your pillow or how sweetly you spoke his name but he could not.

Gwayne would wrestle with himself for nearly an hour, but at the agony of his own groin he could not contain himself. Gwayne would still be standing as he pulled his pants down, freeing his length as he took it in one hand.

This was wrong, this was so wrong.

And still, he began to pump himself to the thought of you pleasing yourself with a pillow.

I shouldn't be doing this.

He wondered how it would feel to be between your soft thighs, to have you be humping him.

He was almost there.

To have you scream his name instead of whisper it.

Gwayne would soon spill his seed onto the ground as his hand feverishly pumped himself to the thought of you. Gwayne would attempt to find sleep that night but had been unable to do so.

When the next day dawned, you anticipated a conversation with your uncle about the events of the previous night. However, it soon became apparent that Gwayne was actively avoiding you. He didn't join you for breakfast or supper, and your cousin took it upon themselves to entertain you with a tour of Old Town, while another cousin kept you occupied with needlepoint throughout the day. Despite your efforts, the entire day passed without a glimpse of him.

Returning to your chambers in the evening, a growing discomfort settled within you. You couldn't shake the feeling that Gwayne's absence was deliberate. Did he feel embarrassed for having found you in distress? Was he ashamed of you? These thoughts churned in your mind as you lay on your bed, staring up at the canopy for what felt like an eternity.

Finally, unable to endure the uncertainty any longer, you threw off the blankets and stormed out of your chambers. Determined, you strode purposefully to his door, bypassing the courtesy of knocking—after all, he hadn't extended the same courtesy to you last night. You entered his chambers with your face flushed with agitation.

Inside, Gwayne was not asleep. He sat up in bed, bare-chested with the blankets draped over his hips, revealing that he wore nothing underneath either.

"Princess, what are you doing?" Gwayne asked abruptly, his gaze flickering to the sheerness of your nightgown, which left little to the imagination. It was evident that your attire was not quite appropriate for a princess, but after what Gwayne had witnessed the previous night, your choice of clothing was the least of your concerns.

"You walked in on me last night and now you avoid me all day?" you questioned boldly, lifting your chin as you approached his bedside. Gwayne's hands tightened on the blanket, his discomfort palpable as you drew nearer.

"You should go," he insisted, attempting to avert his eyes from you.

"Why?" You questioned sharply as he approached. "Are you ashamed of me now?"

Gwayne shook his head, you had not yet noticed, and he had hoped you hadn't as he looked away.

"It's not that." he insisted quietly.

Your eyes looked down the look of anger seeming to melt from your face as your eyes noticed the bulge beneath the blankets. He was hard, trying to hide it, but failing to do so.

"Please leave." He was begging with all restraint he had. Gwayne could not even look you in the eye as he kept the blankets around him.

You stood there for a moment unsure how to approach but desire beginning to burn between your legs as you looked to him.

"Do you desire me, uncle?" You questioned moving closer to him as a hand gently touched his thigh grabbing a handful of the sheets he was using to cover himself.

"It is wrong- I should not." He said, answering your question without actually answering your question. It was enough for you, his grip tightening to hold the sheets in place as you carefully slid one leg up on the bed, allowing it to rest on one side of him. Gwayne showed restraint, but only little.

"Who says?" you questioned, eyes staring into his as he finally had enough gull to look at you.

"The Gods." he declared. "Common law-" he tried to say with some reason, the one thread of restraint still holding on within him.

"Fuck the Gods," You declared as your hand gave a gentle pull at the sheets. "Fuck Common Law-" He continued to hold on as you pulled. "And fuck me." you said nearly pleading.

Gwayne held the blankets for a moment longer as his eyes looked to you. "You are a maiden, are you not?" He questioned unsure in this moment based on your behavior.

"I am." you declared honestly as you looked to him.

"I can not deflower my own niece." He said allowing a moment of pride to shield him.

"I do not want my first time to be with some lord that I am married off to as a bargaining chip." You insisted nearly pleading. "I desire you, uncle and you desire me." You declared, his grip on the sheet loosening.

Gwayne battled with himself for a moment, but only for a moment, for his strong hands would reach for your face, pulling you gently to meet his lips. Your body pulled onto him as your lips met his. Gwayne kissed your lips with the hunger of a starved man, his hands moved to your night gown and pulled it up, parting his lips to discard it from your body leaving you exposed to him.

He wasted little time in pushing you down onto the mattress, allowing himself to rest above you. In the moon light he took in your bare figure, soon peppering kisses between the valley of your breast and down your body to your cunt. His lips would kiss down to your bud before he grabbed onto your hips. Pulling your thighs to rest on his shoulders as his face pushed into your cunt in a way a pillow never could. It was by this that you were already squirming, back arching at his touch.

Gwayne would not hesitate to allow his tongue to lay flat against your flushed sensitive bud, your hips pushing down slightly as he tried to keep you in place with his grip. Gwayne would lick slowly, tasting your virgin cunt as if it was a delicacy, something he was determine to savor.

Soft moans left your lips as his tongue continued to work against your dripping cunt. Gwayne was carefully when he inserted a finger inside of you. He did not dare to put more than one for with just one finger he could feel how incredibly tight you were. a realization that caused his cock to ache.

Gwayne would slowly pump his finger in and out of you as you moaned loudly, your hands becoming entangled in his long locks, and your thighs pushing shut against him. Gwayne wanted to question you, to ask how you were so sensitive, why you tasted so sweet- but he could not bring himself to remove his tongue if the king himself demanded it.

There would be a hot coil inside of you that would form, growing tighter, as your wet cunt clenched around his finger, and within a moment the coil snapped. A warm orgasm flushing over you as your thighs squeezed his head without mercy, soft tears fell from your eyes as you came down from your high. You were panting as your thighs loosened, Gwayne would pull his finger from you before sticking it in his mouth to suck in clean of your sweet juices.

The two of you locked eyes as you stared at one another for a moment. His hard cock pushed against the inside of your thigh as he debated if he should go through with this.

"We shouldn't." Gwayne gave a small fight once more for the sake of his honor and your own.

"Who would know?" You offered a simple excuse, hoping he would not declare the gods again.

"Who would know . . ." he repeated before he nodded. "You're right. Who would know." Gwayne reasoned as he grabbed his cock as he had carefully begun to move it against the wet folds of your cunt.

"You could drink moon tea after." he suggested again as you nodded in response.

"You're sure?" he asked again his blue eyes looking to you with tender concern but also the last bit of restraint he had in him.

"I am." You said as you pushed yourself down on him slightly causing him to groan.

Gwayne could wait no longer and therefore he lined himself up at your entrance and gently he begun to penetrate you, sliding into your wet cunt slowly.

Your back arched at the feeling of him filling you, he stilled, with only part of himself in you.

"More." You whined out in a demand as you waited for him to fill you completely.

"Patient, princess. Please- I do not wish to be spent so soon." Gwayne insisted, he had slowly begun to push into you. Your legs would soon tighten around his waist, forcing him to put the rest of himself in. A moan came from the both of you as he would soon begin to move slowly.

"Gods, you're so tight." He groaned as he slowly thrusted in and out of you at a slow rate, doing his best not to spill himself inside of you this early.

Gwayne would allow his thumb to return to your swollen bulb, rubbing it softly as he continued to fuck you at a slow and passionate rate. Despite the slow thrust he pushed deep into your warm velvet walls each time, enjoying the feeling of you squeezing his entire length.

Gwayne would continue at this slow rate as you cried out, soon lewd sounds of your wetness would fill the room mixed with your moans.

"I want to be on top." You pleaded, his hips stilled with hesitation. "Please." you begged.

Gwayne hesitated, but even he could not resist. He pulled out of you slowly before allowing his body to fall onto the bed. You wasted no time climbing on top of him and taking his length in your hand. Carefully you lowered your hips onto him.

"Fuck." Gwayne would groan at the sight of you above him. The vision of a Targaryen princess nude above him, as your hips begun to feverishly bounce on his cock. It took everything in him to not spill himself in you at this very moment.

"Princess, please." He pleaded his hands grabbing on your waist to try and slow you down but it was no use, you used him. Moving your hips quickly as you looked to him.

"Hold on, uncle. I'm almost there." You would insisted in a moan as you continued, the feeling of him throbbing inside of you as you fucked yourself on him was enough to let out a cry of pleasure.

"Please get off . . . "He begged, "I shouldn't . . . not inside of you." He insisted more as he tried to steady your hips, though as you moved he relented.

Gwayne could not hold himself back any longer, his fingers dug into your flesh as he came deep inside you. You continued as he filled you with his warm seed. Allowing yourself to fuck every last drop inside of you, peeking your own orgasm that caused Gwayne to grit his teeth. You would roll your hips over him, riding out your high before falling helplessly on the bed next to him. His seed spilling onto your plush thighs.

Gwayne panted as he had looked over to you with soft affection. "I'll have the maester make you moon tea in the morning." he insisted as you looked over to him with a small smile.

"Perhaps if you seed me with your child mother would be forced to marry me to you." You offered looking to him next to you in the bed.

"Or she would have my head." he offered back.

When morning came you were nearly limping as you joined Daeron at the breakfast table, he seemed somewhat restless as he picked at the eggs on his plate.

"There you are." He declared looking to you with dark shadows surrounding his eyes.

"You look like shit." You declared to him with no one else around, he looked to you with somewhat of a resenting look.

"Yeah, well if you're going to fuck our uncle again could you at least keep it down." Daeron declared.

You froze at his comment, you were going to muster up some kind of denial but Daeron spoke again.

The smell of King's Landing was the first thing to assault you, a thick, complex perfume of salt spray from the Blackwater, smoke from a thousand hearths, the underlying tang of manure, and the strong, gods awful rot of a city crammed with life. It was a far cry from the crystalline, salt and brine air of Lys, perfumed with night blooming jasmine and the clean stone of your mother’s seaside manse.

You, Y/N Targaryen, sole daughter of Prince Aerys, grandaughter of the sitting King Daeron the Good, were its newest bird.

Your return was not a homecoming, it was an extradition. For eight years, you had lived in the pillow houses and marble colonnades of Lys, a world of soft silks, sharper politics, and whispered secrets taught by your mother and her companions.

Your mother, a Lyseni noblewoman from a rich banking family, had brought you there when you were ten, her pride and her heart too bruised to remain in a court that saw her foreign beauty as a threat and her scholarly, distant husband as an eccentric to be humored. Your father, Aerys, preferred parchment and the company of ancient scrolls to that of his wife or his daughter. Your existence was a monument to a single, dutiful night, the consummation of a political marriage. You were the living afterthought.

Now, at eight and ten your grandsire’s decree had ripped you from the life you’d crafted. A scroll, sealed with the three-headed dragon, had found you in Lys. “You are to wed your cousin, Prince Aerion, upon your return.”

You remembered Aerion from the hazy, half-forgotten years of your early childhood in the Keep, a boy with a cruel smile and pale, possessive eyes who pulled the wings from butterflies. The man who greeted your ship was that boy writ large: tall, lithe, with the stunning silver-gold hair and violet eyes of Old Valyria, and a sneer that seemed permanently etched onto his handsome face.

“Cousin,” Aerion had said, his voice a silken poison as he took your hand, his grip too tight. “The most beautiful flower in our family, plucked from a Lyseni garden. I shall enjoy seeing how you bloom in my sun."

The marriage was to be in a moon's turn. A union to keep "The pure blood" within the family, in truth to secure her mother’s Lyseni fortunes more permanently to the Iron Throne as she was her only heir. Y/N felt the walls of the Red Keep, thicker than any in Lys, closing in. Her beauty, her only weapon and shield, was about to become her cage. She would not be Aerion's glittering prize. She would rather throw herself from this balcony.

The revulsion was instant and visceral.

Fuck no.

The plan, hatched in the solitary confinement of your lavish new chambers, was simple in concept, monstrous in risk. You needed a better match. A stronger claim. Someone who could shield you from Aerion’s promised sun, which felt less like warmth and more like a magnifying glass poised to burn. Your eyes turned to the next heir’s line.

Prince Valarr Targaryen.

The Young Prince. Son of Baelor Breakspear the Crown Prince. Second in line to the Iron Throne. You observed him from a distance in the first week,in the yard training with sword and shield, laughing with his brother Matarys, listening with respectful attention to his father. He was shorter than his formidable father but wider in shoulders and he moved with a similar grace. His hair was a curious mix, brown like his father's, but shot through with a single, dramatic streak of Targaryen silver-gold in his left side. His eyes mismatched, one steady blue and one warm brown. He did not blaze with the incandescent, cruel beauty of Aerion and you noted with a calculating eye, he had watched you more than once when he thought no one would see, a faint flush creeping up his neck when your gaze accidentally met his.

The infatuation was there, a naive, boyish thing. It would be your lever.

The seduction was set for a sultry afternoon, when the castle drowsed in the heat. You wore a gown of Lyseni make, thin, skyblue silk that clung to your body, the sleeves so wide they fell off the shoulders, the neckline a tasteful but undeniable hint of curves. You knew exactly where he would be coming from the library, and you positioned yourself in a less traveled corridor of Maegor’s Holdfast, near a tapestry depicting the Conquest, looking for all the world like a lost, ethereal creature.

The click of boots on stone. You let your shoulders slump, your breath hitch just slightly.

“My lady? Cousin are you unwell?”

You turned, letting your eyes widen with just the right mix of relief and maidenly confusion. “Prince Valarr. I… I fear I am quite turned around. The Keep is so much vaster than I remember from my childhood.” You brought a delicate hand to your temple. “I was seeking my chambers, but these halls all look the same.”

He was immediately, endearingly earnest. “It is no trouble. I can escort you.” He offered his arm, his demeanor all formal chivalry, but his eyes flickered to the silk against your skin.

“You are kind,” you said, laying your fingers lightly on his forearm. You let yourself lean into him, just a fraction, as if still dizzy. “It is overwhelming. After so many years away, it feels less like a home and more like a labyrinth.”

“I can imagine,” he said as he guided you, his voice gentle. “Lys is far away. It must be very different there.”

“It is,” you sighed, letting a note of wistfulness color your tone. “Warmer. The colors are brighter. The people speak of pleasure as an art, not a sin.” You glanced at him from under your lashes. “It is a different world. One where a woman learns… many things.”

You felt the muscle in his arm tense beneath your fingers. You said nothing more, letting the implication hang in the quiet corridor until you reached your door.

“Here you are, my lady,” he said, releasing your arm with clear reluctance.

You did not let go of his gaze. Instead, you let the practiced mask of confusion melt away, replaced by something more direct, a small, knowing smile touched your lips. “Such a long walk for you, my prince. And I have not even offered you refreshment for your trouble. It would be poor manners to send you away thirsty.” You pushed your door open wider, an unspoken invitation. “Please. A cup of wine? The least I can do.”

He hesitated, duty and desire warring plainly on his open face. Desire, and that sweet, crushing curiosity, won. “A moment only,” he conceded, stepping across your threshold.

The door closed with a soft, definitive thud.

Your chambers were an oasis of your brief tenure, tapestries on the walls depicting serene gardens and graceful figures, low couches piled with cushions, the air scented with myrrh and exotic citrus. You moved to a carafe of pale red wine, your back to him, acutely aware of his eyes on you. You poured two glasses, your movements fluid, deliberate.

“They say you are to marry Aerion,” Valarr said suddenly, the words bursting from him as if he could no longer hold them in.

You turned, holding a glass out to him. You let your smile turn sad, vulnerable. “The King’s will. Not mine.” You took a slow sip, watching him over the rim. “Do you think I wish to marry a man who enjoys the sound of screaming animals?”

Valarr grimaced. “Aerion is… he is my blood. But I do not always understand him.”

“Understanding is not required in a political match,” you said, drifting closer. “Only obedience. Or so they tell me.” You stopped within an arm’s reach. “In Lys, they believe a match should be made of more than obedience. They believe it should be made of… mutual discovery.”

You saw his throat work as he swallowed. “Discovery?”

You set your glass down. This was the moment. The art was in the transition, from lost maiden to confident woman, a shift that would shatter his innocent expectations. You reached out, not for his hand, but to gently trace the unique silver-gold streak in his brown hair. He froze, his breath catching.

“They teach us,” you murmured, your voice dropping to a intimate register, “that beauty is not just to be looked at. It is to be appreciated. With all the senses.” Your fingers trailed down the streak, over the shell of his ear, along the strong line of his jaw. He was trembling, a fine, barely perceptible vibration under your fingertips. “They teach us that a man’s strength is not just in his sword arm… but in his capacity for feeling. In his passion.”

“Y/N…” he whispered, a protest that held no conviction.

“They teach us,” you continued, stepping so close the thin silk of your gown brushed against the leather of his jerkin, “how to listen to what a man does not say.” You placed your palm flat against his chest, over his heart. It hammered against his ribs like a trapped bird. “Yours speaks so loudly, Valarr. It has since I returned.”

Slowly, deliberately, you turned your head, pressing a soft, closed mouth kiss to the center of his cheek. His breath caught, a sharp inhale that echoed in the quiet chamber, his fingers slightly flexing and his body going rigid.

You lifted your gaze to meet his, all the masks and pretenses dissolving into something raw and unfiltered, a defiant spark of need that burned away the weeks of tension. And then, with the weight of that shared silence pressing down, you kissed him.

It began as a gentle press of lips, a tentative exploration that quickly ignited into something fiercer, a claiming that seared through the air between you. This was no hurried clash, it was a slow unraveling of all the fear, the simmering anger, the desperate longing that had built like a storm inside you.

Your mouth moved against his with an elegance first learned long ago, in the sun-drenched gardens of Lys, during stolen hours of innocent practice with a lady friend, but now it was laced with a true, aching hunger, for escape, for agency, for the man before you. Your lips parted his with a whisper of invitation, your tongue tracing the seam of his mouth before slipping inside, seeking his in a languid, wet tangle. You tasted the faint salt of his skin, the subtle bitterness of wine on his breath, and you drew his lower lip between yours, sucking gently, coaxing a low rumble from his chest.

Valarr, with his princely poise and disciplined grace, crumbled under the onslaught. A deep groan vibrated from his throat into yours, his arms encircling your waist like forged steel, drawing you inexorably closer until your bodies aligned in a heated press.

His response was rawer, less polished a blaze of unbridled passion that mirrored and amplified your own controlled fire. He surrendered to the flood of you, the intoxicating floral notes of your perfume mingling with the natural musk of your arousal, the velvet slide of your tongue against his, the undeniable reality of your form molded to him. His hands explored the curve of your back with deliberate strokes, fingers splaying wide over the thin silk of your gown, pressing into the yielding flesh beneath. As desire stirred, his cock thickened in his breeches, the rigid length nudging insistently against your abdomen, a insistent pulse that made your own core clench in anticipation.

The kiss deepened, time stretching as breaths mingled and bodies shifted in subtle, seeking rhythms. When at last you pulled back, it was with reluctance, both of you panting softly, lips swollen and glistening. Your eyes locked onto his, a bold challenge flickering in their depths, daring him to follow where you led. Wordlessly, you clasped his hand, warm, slightly trembling,and guided him across the room to the curtained bed, the heavy fabrics whispering as you parted them. He moved with you like a man ensnared in a reverie, one he had only dared to dream in stolen moments.

At the bed's edge, you placed a hand on his chest, feeling the rapid thud of his heart beneath your palm, and gently urged him to sit. He sank onto the edge, his dark hair tousled from your fingers, his eyes stormy with a mix of reverence and ravenous want. Holding that intense gaze, you lowered yourself to your knees before him, the plush rug cushioning your descent, your hands resting lightly on his thighs.

"Y/N... wait" he murmured, voice roughened like gravel, but his hands rose to cup your face, thumbs tracing slow arcs over your cheekbones, betraying the plea with their tender insistence.

"Hush" you breathed, a sly curve touching your lips, still tender from their earlier fervor. "My valiant guide. Allow me to express my gratitude... as it should be"

Your fingers danced to the laces of his breeches, undoing them with unhurried expertise, each tug revealing more of him. You eased the fabric aside, freeing his cock, it rose heavy and flushed, the shaft thick with veins standing in relief, the tip already beaded with pre-cum that caught the candle's glow. You encircled the base with your hand, feeling the velvety heat, the subtle throb as it jumped under your touch. Leaning in, you let your breath ghost over the sensitive skin first, watching it twitch, before extending your tongue to trace a languid path from the heavy sac of his balls upward along the underside, savoring the salty tang that bloomed on your taste buds. Valarr's hips jerked faintly, a husky moan spilling from him as his fingers threaded loosely into your hair.

What unfolded was a lesson in exquisite torment, yu enveloped the head of his cock with your lips, sealing around it with a soft suction that made him hiss, your tongue circled the ridge slowly, lapping at the slit to gather the leaking fluid, before you descended further, inch by inch, your mouth stretching to accommodate his girth. You hummed low in your throat, the vibration rippling through him, as you took him deeper, relaxing your jaw and throat with practiced ease. Your cheeks hollowed on the upstroke, creating a delicious pull, while your hand at his base stroked in tandem, twisting gently. The other hand cradled his balls, fingers massaging the taut skin, rolling them with feather light pressure to tease the building ache.

He was no heir to thrones in this moment, merely Valarr, a man laid bare, adored and unraveled by the vision kneeling before him. His grip in your hair tightened incrementally, guiding without force as he rocked shallowly into the wet heat of your mouth, each thrust met with your accommodating rhythm. Primal sounds escaped him, deep grunts that built to ragged gasps, his cock swelling further against the confines of your lips, the veins pulsing hotly on your tongue. The sensations layered upon him,the slick glide, the insistent suction, the teasing flick, eroded his restraint, narrowing his world to this singular point of ecstasy.

The peak arrived not in a rush, but as a slow, inevitable crest. His body tensed, thighs quivering under your hands, and with a fractured cry that echoed off the stone walls, he erupted. Hot jets of cum flooded your mouth, thick and salty, coating your tongue as you swallowed steadily, your throat working around him to draw out every pulse. You continued the gentle laps and sucks until he softened slightly, shuddering in the aftermath, his chest heaving as waves of release ebbed through him.

Rising with fluid elegance, you let him watch as you began to undress, turning the act into a deliberate seduction. The silk gown slipped from your shoulders first, pooling at your feet in a shimmering cascade, revealing the sheer undershift that clung to your curves. With a slow arch of your back, you peeled it away, letting it drift down to expose your skin to the warm flicker of candlelight. You stood bare before him, a figure of unapologetic allure: breasts full and rounded, nipples pebbled into rosy peaks from the cool air and lingering arousal; waist nipping in before flaring to generous hips; and between your thighs, your pussy flushed and slick.

"You are a dream made flesh" he whispered, voice hoarse with renewed hunger, his cock stirring once more at the sight, thickening against his thigh.

stepping closer to climb onto the bed, your knees bracketing his hips as you straddled him. "Tonight, I am wholly yours."

Your hand found his semi erect length, stroking with firm, unhurried pulls until it hardened fully, hot and rigid in your grasp. You rose slightly, aligning the broad head with your entrance, rubbing it through your drenched folds, coating him in your wetness. The anticipation built as you lowered yourself gradually, the initial breach sending a sharp twinge through you, the barrier of your virginity yielding with a brief, burning stretch. You paused, breath hitching, your inner walls fluttering around the invading thickness as you adjusted to the profound fullness. Inch by measured inch, you sank down, until he was seated deep within you, your clit nestled against his base.

A shared moan escaped as you began to move, not in haste, but in a sinuous roll of your hips, a grinding circle that stirred him inside you, friction sparking along every nerve. His hands settled on your hips, fingers tracing the contours before gripping with possessive care, guiding your pace as he lifted to meet you in shallow thrusts. The sensation was exquisite: the drag of his cock against your sensitive walls, the way he filled you completely, pressing against untouched depths.

His palms glided upward, savoring the dip of your waist, the swell of your ribs, before cupping your breasts. Thumbs circled your nipples in lazy spirals, then pinched with increasing pressure, drawing gasps from your lips as pleasure-pain bloomed. He leaned forward, murmuring your name like a sacred vow against the curve of your neck, his mouth following with open-mouthed kisses, sucking at the pulse point, teeth grazing lightly to leave faint imprints on your skin. The rhythm built gradually: the soft slap of flesh, the lewd squelch of your joined bodies, breaths syncing in harmonious pants.

You increased the tempo subtly, rising and falling with more intent, your clit grinding against him to fan the flames in your core. The coil tightened deliciously, every movement heightening the intimacy. With a sudden surge of strength, he flipped your positions, keeping himself buried deep as he settled above you, your legs parting wider to welcome him. He drove into you with controlled power, each stroke deliberate and deep, his balls brushing your ass on the inward push. The new angle allowed him to reach further, nudging that hidden spot that sent bursts of light behind your closed eyes, your body arching instinctively.

Your nails trailed down his back, leaving red trails in their wake, while your legs hooked around his waist, heels digging into his flanks to urge him on. The pace remained measured, a sensual dance of give and take, building toward release with aching slowness. Sweat beaded on your skin, mingling where your bodies connected, the air thick with the scent of sex and flickering light.

When climax finally claimed you, it unfolded like a languid wave, cresting in perfect unison. Valarr's thrusts grew erratic, his cock throbbing as he buried himself to the hilt, releasing in powerful spurts-warm floods of cum painting your insides, the sensation triggering your own unraveling.

Your pussy clenched rhythmically around him, drawing out his pleasure as ecstasy rippled through you, a deep, shuddering bloom that left your limbs heavy and your mind adrift in bliss. Juices seeped between you, soaking the linens, as he lowered himself carefully onto you, his weight a comforting anchor in the haze, both of you entwined in the quiet aftermath of shared surrender.

For long minutes, there was only the sound of slowing heartbeats. You lay beneath him, your fingers idly combing through his damp, streaked hair, waiting. This was the final, crucial step.

Finally, he stirred. He pushed himself up on his elbows, his mismatchef eyes, now dark and smoky with spent passion, searched your face. He looked shattered, reborn, and utterly, irrevocably claimed. The sweet, boyish crush was gone, burned away in the forge of physical possession.

He opened his mouth, closed it, then tried again, his voice hoarse. “Aerion… will never touch you.”

You arched a brow, feigning a vulnerability you no longer felt. “Grandfather has decreed it.”

“Grandfather is the King,” Valarr said, and for the first time, you heard the steel of his lineage, the iron of his father Baelor, in his voice. It was not a petulant boast, but a cold, factual statement of power. “And my father is his heir. I am their heir.” He leaned down, capturing your lips in a searing, possessive kiss that left no room for argument. When he pulled back, his gaze was absolute. “I will go to them. Today. Now. I will tell them I will marry you. That I must marry you. Aerion is a lesser son of a fourth son. My claim on you, especially now..." his hand tightened on her hip, "...is stronger. My father will see it. Baelor Breakspear understands love. He married for it." He sounded as if he was convincing himself as much as her, building the argument with a desperate hope.

He kissed her again, deeply, as if sealing a vow. "I will marry you, Y/N. I swear it by the old gods and the new. This," he gestured to the bed, to their naked, entwined bodies, "this is not an end. It is our beginning."

He tried to rise, to begin his mission that very second, but his legs, weak and still thrumming from the aftermath of her, betrayed him. He sank back onto the mattress with a shaky, breathless laugh, pulling her firmly back into his arms.

"In a moment," he murmured into her hair, his body already responding to her proximity again, his desire a banked fire ready to flare. "Just... let me hold you for a moment. The world can wait."

Y/N nestled against him, her cheek on his chest, listening to the frantic beat of his heart. The plan had worked. Too well, perhaps. The cold calculation was now a scalding, complicated knot of triumph, relief, and a startling, unexpected thread of feeling for the honest, passionate prince whose world she had just overturned. The dice were thrown. The game for her future, and now for his, was on. And as Valarr's lips found her skin once more, whispering promises of marriage and defiance against her shoulder, she knew there was no going back.

Valarr targaryen

Olenna Tyrell's Handbook for Avoiding Disastrous Husbands A Tale Of Forbidden Desires Were you silent or were you SILENCED The Perils of Betrothal to a Man So Pretty He Must Be Gay Love and death How Not to Escape a Prince The heir within The crown's fool The dragon's secret The Dragon's secret part two Mutual Hatred and Other Courtly Traditions A love written in secret Married at first sight modern au drabble part two The Tetanus Shot That Started It All, crack The Most Important Fuck in Westerosi History

SERIES:

I THINK I MISS MY WIFE AU: The first meeting (ITIMMW AU) I think i miss my wife I think i miss my wife part 2 Cut Short by Cruel Gods and a Runny Nose I miss my wife universe: the reader gets hurt edition "Your HoneyPot Is Bare" Valarr Targaryen Will Not Tolerate Head-Shaming No Aelias, your mother is NOT trapped inside that locket Two Sleeps

BASTARDS, DRAGONS AND ROYALS

Bastards, Dragons and Royals 1 Batards, Dragons and Royals; The Prince and the Dragon Girl 2 Bastards, Dragons and Royals: Intermediate, Part 2.5 Bastards, Dragons And Royals: The Cave 3 Bastards, Dragons And Royals: The Island 4 Bastards, Dragons and Royals: Home 5 Bastards, Dragons and Royals: The Dinner 6

Fan art:

Moonfyre 2n art

Y/N 2

Various characters: valarr, aerion, daeron, maekar, baelor, dunk, lyonel, teleporting in the real world. (DISCONTINUED, i'm sorry i don't enjoy writing these😭)

Them reacting to WAP Them reacting to godzilla after you told them it was a real story Them reacting to roller coasters/theme parks

Aerion Targaryen

I think i miss my wife, aerion's version part 2 'Aww So Cute!' 'Get The Fuck Away From Me' The Belt

HOTD!Reader in akotsk:

HOTD!Reader is a DILF fucker Aerion and silverwing Brownhairphobic reader

In the works:

Bastards, dragons and royals part seven

Maekarling reader is kidnapped and raised as a blackfyre

Fourth valyrian dragonriding family

Valarr's neglected wife isekai

time travel au daughter of jaehaerys and alysanne ends up in akotsk

baelor/maekar/daeron i think i miss my wife au

aerion 'itimmw' first meeting

bdr Bastard!Reader alternate ending where she runs away forever but valarr gives up everything for her and follows her

'ITIMMW' AU baelor catching valarr and yn in the library

ITIMMW!Valarr waking up in the body of BDR!Valarr

valarr x dreamer/dreamwalker reader

Jacaerys i think i miss my wife version