#I think I am interested in questions of 'who am I when I no longer can be [person I always set out to be]' | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

annabthesolitarywriter · 21 hours ago

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WIP Tag Game

Thank you for the tag, @lucifers-legions!

Rules: You will be given a word. Then you share one sentence/excerpt from your WIP(s) that stars with each letter of your word!

I have been working on way too many things at once, some of which I last updated last year. I'll list the most recent ones.

You Are Safe Here - A Boromir Lives! one-shot featuring my main OC Elenna "Enna" and a bunch of new OCs I have yet to include in my Tumblr character profiles.

A Broken Boy - gift-fic for @lucifers-legions featuring my OC Mírion and her OC Cirion. Other characters may appear as well.

Ask Me Nicely - One-shot featuring My OCs Elanel and Elegil (Enna's biological parents)

A New Beginning - One-shot about Aragorn's coronation and related events featuring some other OCs that have not yet made it to my Tumblr character profiles.

Untold Feelings - One-shot featuring Elboron and my OC Eglerion. Other characters that have not yet made it to my character profiles will appear in the story.

I have others as well, but I think these will do for now.

My word is "WATER"

W - from You Are Safe Here

“What is love? I reckon it is such a misused term. Love is for children and fools who cannot be persuaded to accept reality. Love as it is described in books and folktales does not exist. And even if it did, it would be irrelevant to people such as myself. Nobles do not wed for love. They do so to establish alliances and strengthen whatever position or claim they have in life. My marriage to the Crown Prince was planned when we were both infants. We were bound to be wed so that our respective Houses could benefit from such an advantageous union. Love was never meant to be a part of the agreement. I am not going to lie by denying that it would not be a welcomed guest, but it can be easily foregone. I am no longer the silly little girl I used to be, and I would like to think that approaching worldly matters with a realistic outlook and closed heart will indeed work in my favor eventually. Do you not concur?”

“I…I do not think it is appropriate for me to voice my opinion on such a delicate issue, my lady. After all, I am but a servant.”

“It is appropriate if I ask it of you. In fact, I command it.”

Maira’s lower lip quivered. “Do you not wish to be loved?”

“My father and my siblings love me. I am loved.”

The maid smiled. “My question had a slight more romantic undertone, my lady.”

“Romantic love is the last illusion of the old order. That is all it is. A mere illusion fit only for children…”

“And fools, yes.” Maira interrupted her, earning a glance of reproach which she chose to ignore. “It sounds like you do not need my opinion at all, my lady.”

“I would like to know whether you agree with me or not. Are you afraid I will punish you if our views end up differing? Is that why you are so hesitant to talk to me? If that is the case, rest assured that nothing shall be done to you. I am simply genuinely interested in hearing what you have to say, as I presume you have plenty of things to discuss.”

“May I speak truthfully?”

“It is all I require of you.”

Maira took a deep breath, her shoulders loosening. “I…”

“You are trembling.” Elenna looked alarmed. “What is it? Are you unwell?”

“I am fine, my lady.”

“Are you certain? I am sure my lord Uncle’s physician could very well examine you. I can send for him.”

“I do not need a physician.”

The room fell into silence and Elenna stared at her maid for a long while. “You are not trembling because you are cold, are you?”

“Madam…”

“You fear me.”

“My princess…”

“Am I wrong?”

Maira gulped. “I have heard rumors about you, but I have no doubt that it is only idle gossip. Vile accusations spread by prissy ladies who have nothing better than do than slandering those who are innocent.”

“What have you heard? What did they say?”

The maid shook her head. “You are thought to be some sort of horrible tyrant, which is of course utterly untrue. Yet…”

She paused and smothered a nervous giggle. “Perhaps I should not speak of it, my lady. I would never wish for you to be upset, especially now that you are with child. You had better be careful not to…”

“I have carried my son for nearly five months and I have wept nearly every day since the nature of my condition was revealed to the court and to our people.”

“That is not the point, my lady. It should not have to be that way.”

“That is the result and we can hardly something about it, can we not? Now, do tell me. What did you hear?”

“My princess…”

“Please.”

Maira cleared her throat once more. “It is said that you slap and exert violence over all of your household members who question your orders or disagree with you on the most trivial matters. I have been your personal maid for a little over three months, but my service has been rather discontinuous and we barely interacted before our party reached Osgiliath. Even before that, I had believed the accusations to be unfounded, but since you were ill most of the time I could say whether my instincts were indeed correct. I suppose that even mean and cold-hearted individuals can be tamed by sickness and I imagine being with child takes a huge toll on one’s mental strength. It can affect one’s demeanor quite significantly and it kept me wondering. You did not strike me as a cruel lady, but I did not dare lower my guard. That is why I never spoke to you. I was afraid I would somehow anger you and that you would beat me. That is what they said you would do and I was scared. You do not strike me as a violent person and I hope I am right. I always remained silent whenever I did not share your opinion because I did not trust you. I wanted to trust you and I do want to confide in you, but I…”

She lowered her chin, her eyes to the floor. “Do you promise you will not harm me?”

Elenna frowned. “Do you disagree with me?”

Maira held her breath. “Y...yes, Madam.”

“Come. Let us go outside.”

A - from A Broken Boy

A puzzled Cirion put his training sword back into its sheath. “I thought you said we would practice for hours.”

“That was indeed the plan until I saw how poor your form is. I do not mean to be rude, but…have you ever held a sword in your lifetime?”

“Why, of course,” Cirion replied, “I think everybody has.”

“Have you ever used it though? Have you ever been taught the basics of sword fighting?”

“I cannot say that I have.” He gulped nervously. “Forgive me. I suppose I am an embarrassment to you.”

“You can still learn. Believe me, I too was rather pathetic when I first started my training.”

“How old were you then?”

“I was eight when I first stepped into the training guild, though I presume I have been training my entire life. My early childhood is filled with memories of my brother and I fighting off my father with wooden sword. We believed we would best him one day.”

“Has it ever happened?”

“No. No, it has not. Such a silly question does not even merit an answer.”

“You are perhaps the most skilled fighter I ever saw.”

He paused. “Allow me to retract my statement. You are indeed the best fighter I ever saw. Practicing with you is almost a shame because I cannot fully focus on what you do. I would rather enjoy watching you perform your routines. It is clear you are in control of your surroundings and your every movement is perfectly calculated. If I had to compare it to something with which I am slightly more familiar, I would say your routines resemble a dance. You are so gentle, yet extremely deadly.”

“Your words are highly appreciated, yet I reckon you are much too kind. My execution is still flawed and needs refinement. Though I suppose you are right in a way. One should always be gentle when handling any weapon. I would never want to cause anyone pain.”

“Not even to your enemies?”

“No. Killings should quick and painless. The execution of that red-headed traitor was a pivotal lesson to me in that regard.”

“When was her sentence carried out? I am surprised I heard nothing of it.”

“She died a few weeks ago.”

“Do you wish to speak of it? You look troubled.”

“I wish we had gotten rid of her sooner. Perhaps my siblings would still be alive.”

Cirion remained silent. Their first meeting had not been exactly cordial, yet he had quickly grown fond of his cousin. The younger boy was understandably withdrawn and retiring. He rarely showed fear, yet Cirion had learned to recognize small signs others might overlook or dismiss. His eyes turning slightly darker was one of them. The boy’s gray eyes had a special light to them; a light which was not of Ëa. A light which went out whenever he received bad news. He had received plenty and had hardly lost his composure, instead rationalizing his feelings and concealing them. Yet, Cirion had noticed the nearly imperceptible shaking of his wrists whenever he opened a letter with his father’s seal, how he held his breath whenever his mother’s personal physician appeared and the pain that had for a moment took over his features when told of the illness of a good friend Cirion had yet to meet. He had understood his character and his motives and had forgiven him for the attitude he had exhibited when they had first crossed paths. He was now ashamed of his own behavior, judging it too brash and hazardous. He had called him and his sisters out for being rude when he knew nothing about their past and what they had experienced. He should have been more considerate.

“Mírion,” he said as he rested a hand on his shoulder. “Look at me. It was not your fault.”

“I knew something was amiss from the beginning, but my mother trusted her and…”

He sighed. “It has become so hard for me to believe anything people say. I doubt we will ever be safe.”

“Rest assured my family will not hurt you.”

“I do not mean to offend you, but I would appreciate it if your mother left mine own alone.”

“My…my mother?”

“Shortly after your parents left Dol Amroth, I spoke to my mother and, although she did not admit to it, she…”

He paused and ran his fingers through his hair. “I am sorry, I…”

“I am not offended, cousin. Please continue.”

“Cousin?”

Cirion frowned. “What else am I to call you? We are cousins, are we not? We are family.”

“Our mothers are first cousins. We are simply related, which still baffles me.”

“How come?”

“We are so different, you and I.”

“You may be right after all. You are a lord, I am a sailor.”

“A sailor? Now, where did that come from?”

“It is my new nickname apparently.”

“Your nickname?”

“It was graciously bestowed upon me by your sister.”

“You are referring to Wyn, are you not?”

Cirion’s eyes widened. “How did you know?”

“Finnie is not the sort of girl to call people by monikers. She is far too formal for that.”

“She reminds me of her mother.”

“She’s her favorite child. She always was. They are so alike.”

“I have seen the way she looks at you. Your mother adores you.”

“She does not. I hope though that her love for me is true.”

“What do you mean? It is blatantly obvious that she worships the ground on which you walk. I cannot say that I know her well, but it seems to me that she would be utterly crushed if something happened to you.”

“Although I would die for her, I do not plan on getting hurt.”

“Are you not scared?”

“More and more people will try and harm those I love. I may not know their names or faces, but I am aware evil is always lurking about. There is no way of knowing when it will strike, but you cannot escape it.”

“You speak of it so calmly. Are you not frightened? Are you not scared of dying?”

“Death is not something to be afraid of.”

“While it is true that it is the gift of the One to the Secondborn, the thought of not knowing what awaits us beyond the Circles of the World causes me great anxiety.”

“My father’s herald once said something to me. He said that death is just another path; a person’s way to a sorrowless existence.”

“Do you agree?”

“It is difficult to provide an answer that fully sums up my feelings about it. I am certainly acquainted with the pain death brings. I am acquainted with the tears, the heartbreak, the lingering guilt that never truly abandons those who are left behind. I have mourned every single one of my siblings. I was only ten when my little brothers died and I remember feeling numb for a long time. I recall my father’s despair as well as my mother’s. I did shed tears for them, though I believe my sisters’ demise affected me much more. Perhaps it was so because they died when I was much older. While the death of my brothers caused me to feel utter numbness and disbelief, the passing of my sisters was a catalyst of rage. The screams of the maids who found them still echo in my ears. I can hear them.” He cleared his throat. “When my brothers died, I did not fully understand the meaning of death, the finality of it. Yes, I knew that they were bound to leave Ëa; I knew their fëar would possibly travel somewhere, but…part of me believed they would return to our family in a day or two. I could not stand to witness my parents crumbling. My mother’s pain, my father’s endless wailing…”

He trailed off and turned away, careful not to meet Cirion’s eyes. “They were just children. Young children. Sickly children. So sickly our entire household thought they would die long before they did. They were small and frail, but on their good days they were a menace. They loved pranking their nanny as well as other servants. Harmless nonsense, really.”

He rubbed his left eye. “I remember one time that they ruined my new shirt. Mother had gifted me this beautiful white shirt and they ruined it pouring black ink all over it. It was a birthday present so I was…mildly upset. I told them off and they never it again. I now wish they were alive to stain all the shirts I own.”

He smothered a whimper. “They were always together. They played together, they were being tutored together, they often wore the same tabards…they died together. They were hugging when they found them. The guards at their door said my father had entered their room the night before…but it couldn’t be him…it was not him…that void-cursed harlot took his form and killed them. She confessed it right before she was executed.”

“The guards…were they your father’s kin? Were they Maiar as well?”

Mírion nodded absently, still looking away.

“Did they not notice…”

His voice cracked and the rest of the question died in his throat. Mírion buried his face in his hands.

“I wondered about that myself. I spent countless sleepless nights trying to make sense of what had happened. To me they were all traitors. I hated them all. The guards, the healers, the maids, their nanny…all of them. Their deaths seemed so senseless I had to look for a scapegoat to set my mind at ease. Of course the void-cursed harlot was already included in my list of culprits. I never liked it. The moment I saw her, I knew she was evil. I sensed it.”

“I am sorry you had to suffer so…my lord.”

Mírion’s head snapped. “What?”

“What did I say?”

“Why would you mylord me?”

“I…I thought it was appropriate.”

“It is beyond ridiculous. We are relatives.”

“I suppose you call your father your lord and you’re related to him as well.”

“That is another matter entirely.”

“How do you usually address your mother?”

“What does she have to do with anything? I am confused.”

“I would like to speak to her, if I may.”

“We were speaking about my dead brothers and you come up with such a request out of the blue?”

“I am sorry if I offended you, my lord.”

“Mírion. My name is Mírion. Call me that. Can you do it?”

“Yes, my l…”

Cirion paused as the other boy glared at him. “Of course, Mírion,” he rectified.

“Very well. Now, about your request…”

“If it is not appropriate, I do not…”

Mírion raised his hand and Cirion’s brows furrowed. “Mírion?”

“It means you ought to be quiet because I am going to speak. I now realize it is probably a gesture which is only common among the Maiar. I must have learned it from my father. He uses it quite often.”

“I would like to learn more about the customs of the Maiar. I should like to meet your father as well.”

“In due time, I will tell you all that I know. Tell me though, why would you like to talk to my mother?”

Mírion’s tone was strained and low. He looked as if he were in pain, but Cirion dismissed such notion; his lips awkwardly pressed together.

“If it is not permitted, please say so.”

“It is allowed. She needs to rest and recover, but I doubt she will refuse you. I simply would like to know what you plan on discussing with her.”

“Rest assured that I will not harm her. I just would like to…”

Mírion raised a hand again. “Answer the question.”

“Trust me, I would never...”

“What are you going to tell her!?”

“Please calm down. It is my fault, you are clearly nervous and pouring your heart out to me about the horrors you endured probably was not the best idea. Though I did not directly ask you about them, it was heavily implied in my previous questions and I beg you to forgive me if I caused you any pain. I do not want to hurt anyone, I never did. I just love the sea and boats. I…”

Cirion paused as he noticed tears running down Mírion’s cheeks. He gulped. “May I?”

Mírion took a deep breath. “What now?”

He sounded exhausted.

T - from Ask Me Nicely

“Though I was born and raised in Anfalas, far from the enchanted valleys which are said to be found in the Last Homely House East of the Sea, tales of her grace of the Lady Undómiel have never been too far from my ears. Few mortal eyes have beheld the visage of the Elf-maiden who, according to those who were indeed granted the privilege of meeting her, is reminiscent of that of the most beautiful Child of Ilúvatar to ever walk Middle-earth. It is a mystery to me why such a woman would ever wish to befriend one who fled her ancestral home and was disowned by her father. Is it not degrading to a Queen?”

“Perhaps the Lady Undómiel is not as mindful of rules that are widely regarded as trivial and obsolete by all who are endowed with a discreet amount of intelligence.”

“Thread carefully, my lord. You should not be in any way caught speaking the words of rebels and traitors.”

He smirked. “Rebels…am I not married to one?”

“Pray tell, husband, how am I a rebel?”

“Running from your responsibilities, marrying a penniless archer with no prospects…it is a rather unusual comportment for a lady, do you not agree?”

“Only partly, my darling. I never engaged in dangerous talk that may inadvertently be perceived as treacherous.”

“You left Gondor long ago, yet you still speak in riddles.”

“You accused the Lady…”

She paused. “You accused Queen Arwen of not following the rules of the nobility, my lord. You called protocol trivial and obsolete, thus insulting centuries of tradition as well as doubting our Queen’s honor. I know you did not mean to cause offense, but I feel compelled to warn you.”

“The King may take my head if it please him. He may certainly have it if he deems my words uncouth and treacherous. I am for ever at his service, yet I will not change my opinion on such matters, and I will not be made to bow in order to fit into a reality to which I do not belong. I never held the people of the South in high esteem and, in my long years, I was never once met with kindness or respect whenever I ventured into the capital. I have no desire to dwell in a city in which titles and wealth are placed above integrity and good character. The Dúnedain of Arnor stand by a moral code of strength and honor and, sadly, the South has very little of both.”

“Will you once again reject the King’s offer?”

He glanced at her and hurriedly rose to his feet. “Why are you trembling? Are you cold?”

She shook her head. “I am concerned.”

“Why would you be?”

“I worry about the King’s reaction. He forgave you once, but…”

“Estel is a reasonable, sensible man. He always was. There is no reason to worry. He would probably have a laugh if he heard our conversation. Do not be troubled.”

“Estel?”

“The King.” He quipped. “His name is Estel.”

“I thought he was called Elessar. Some refer to him as Aragorn, others as Elf-stone.”

“Elessar is the Quenya term for Elf-stone. It is his regnal name.”

“It must be quite an important stone. A heirloom of some sort perhaps.”

“It is also known as the stone of Ëarendil and several decades have passed since it was given to him by the Lady Galadriel of Lothlórien.”

“The Lady Galadriel? I first came across her name as a young girl. She was the subject of several of my history lessons and I recall how my tutor reminded me he was related to her at any given occasion. I can still hear his proud remarks concerning his most illustrious ancestry sometimes.” She scoffed and giggled. “I never believed him. He was a competent teacher, but I suspect that most of his tales were fabricated.”

“Why would he lie?”

“I presume he did so in order to endear himself to me. My father valued his counsel and…”

“No. Please don’t.”

Elanel glanced at her husband and frowned. “What is wrong? Are you unwell?”

“He was old, was he not?”

Elanel sighed. “My father would have never accepted him as my husband. His opinion was important to him, that is true, but he held no relevant position at court and was not wealthy. My father had his sights set on several noblemen, all of whom were greedy and despicable.”

“It does not come as a surprise.”

“Fret not, my love, you are the only man I could ever be prevailed upon to marry. I was never interested in riches and titles.”

“I never meant to imply otherwise. Forgive my silver tongue, I beg you. I seem to constantly lose my temper whenever those filthy Southerners are mentioned. Quite a few times have I attempted to mind my manners, to conceal my contempt and ignore them, yet I have always found their pretentiousness unbearable.”

“While there is no doubt that they can be rather extravagant and ostentatious, I believe some individuals among them are indeed worthy of praise.”

“How come did you leave your home then? Had they truly been deserving of your love and affection, you would proudly still be addressed as the Lady of Anfalas.”

“My mother is the Lady of Anfalas. I am merely her daughter.” She looked away. “Her daughter…her little girl. Only a girl.”

She paused. “I am only a girl and not the son my father was promised the day I came into the world. Lords need heirs and my mother was never able to provide our family with one. To my lord father I was a disappointment, a liability.”

“I am ever grateful that we did not have a chance to meet.”

“My lord…”

“I am no lord. Please do not call me that.”

“Elegil…please do not even think of harming my father. He may have wronged me, but I would never wish to inflict any more suffering upon him. Eru knows I have caused him enough pain.”

“I cannot fault you for choosing your own fate. Had you been a daughter of mine…”

“There is no point in discussing what happened long ago. Let us not dwell in the past.”

“I have not been able to cast it out of my mind. The way your family treated you…”

“Come here.”

He sat on the bed next to her and planted a kiss on her forehead, his lips curving into a smile and his gray eyes brimming with fondness. “Never have I beheld anything more beautiful.”

“You should not jest, husband. Idle flattery does not amuse me.”

“It is said that women of the South adore being lavished with gifts and compliments.”

“Based on your earlier comments, I firmly believed you could not stand the sight of them. I was mentally preparing to jump to their defense.”

“Your assumptions were correct, wife. Every lady I have met during my travels was nothing short of insufferable.”

E - from A New Beginning

Éowyn of Rohan stood next to the youngest of the three sisters, but the latter had not noticed her; her gray eyes were fixed on a boy kneeling behind the King, her gaze briefly met his. A proud smile appeared on her face before she swiftly regained the composure required by such a solemn occasion. She motioned for the boy to turn and bowed her head once more. As soon as the King stood, she imitated him and stared quietly at the ground beneath her feet, her neck bent forward. She raised her eyes as the boy joined her and ruffled his hair as he took the vacant spot between her and the renowned golden-haired Shield-maiden.

“Are you the woman by whose hand the Witch-king of Angmar was slain?”

The White Lady jolted and instinctively gripped Lord Faramir’s hand. Lord Denethor’s youngest and only surviving son had been openly courting the lady of the Shield-arm for quite some time now and their relationship had raised many eyebrows among the nobles of the capital. They had assumed it to be a fling, a brief romance born of a passing feeling of infatuation. In Southern Gondor, it was not uncommon for high-ranking nobles to entertain dalliances with women of inferior birth and such relationships were generally looked upon favorably. The golden-haired Shield-maiden had been with met with hostility and suspicion and had now grown accustomed to being treated with contempt, which was why she had reacted so unusually to the sheer admiration and curiosity with which the voice that had addressed her so evidently brimmed.

“Forgive me, my lady. I did not mean to scare you.” Aranarth promptly cleared his throat and smiled timidly. “I humbly beg your pardon. Startling you was not at all my intention.”

Éowyn’s eyes met his and she sighed in relief, her tense muscles relaxing. “I am sorry. I suppose I did not expect anyone to speak to me.” She returned his smile. “You look quite young. Is it your first time attending a coronation ceremony?”

“Indeed, my lady. I accompanied my mother and her sisters. My father failed to come, I…”

He paused and cast an awkward glance at his boots. “My father is…”

“Aranarth.”

His eyes widened as he turned to his left. “Yes, Mother?”

“You promised you would behave today.”

“I am not sure I understand, Naneth. What have I done?”

“You should not engage in conversations with other guests before asking for permission. The lady, although very kind, is not an acquaintance.” She glanced at the Shield-maiden of Rohan and respectfully bowed her head. “I beg you to forgive my boy. He is usually well-behaved; I suppose his natural giddiness went to his head. I am certain he did not mean to be a bother; he simply struggles to contain his excitement from time to time. It is his first time visiting the South and he is not yet familiar with the customs of this land. I beg you to forgive him and I also hope that you extend that courtesy to me. I have done my very best to rear him according to the customs of his forefathers, but I am afraid he is yet to learn the meaning of propriety and decorum. If you allow me, I would like to apologize on his behalf.”

R - from Untold Feelings

“Right? What right do you speak of?”

“I…”

“What do you think happens in battle, Eglerion? Have you ever partaken in one?”

“I can’t say that I have, but, as far as I am aware, you have not been to war either. We are not currently battling anyone and your safety is paramount.”

“Why are you doing this? Why must you always be so…overprotective?”

“I always have been.”

“That does not answer my question.”

“You know what I am going to say, my lord.”

“Many people claim to care about me and I am certain some actually do, yet I could not help but notice that, over the years, you seem to have grown more and more attached to me. You hover around me more than all the members of my family and those of my household combined.”

“Had you mentioned sooner that my being here displeased you, I would have agreed not to visit you anymore.”

“I do not want that. Have I not asked you to stay?”

“You have, but…”

“I only wish for you to keep your distance in some situations. I want you to be my…friend. Only manservants constantly hover around their masters relentlessly and needlessly prying into matters that do not concern them, and I do not wish for you to be my personal attendant. I should like you to be a good friend to me. Do you understand?”

“Have I been intrusive?”

“Only a little.”

“I hope I have not been too intrusive, my lord.”

“You may have been on a few occasions.”

Eglerion gulped. “I am sorry. I did not mean to offend you.”

“There is no need for you to apologize.”

“What can I do to make amends?”

“If you insist...then you may as well stop worrying so much about me. And I should like you to speak with my brother-in-law. I do not understand why you are so dismissive of him.”

“I do not trust him, my lord.”

“Has he ever done anything that may warrant distrust on your part? I believe he has never even talked to you.”

“That is correct.”

“You have no reason to fear him, then.”

“I am not afraid of him, my lord. I simply do no trust him. Most importantly, I do not trust him around you.”

“May I ask why? Please do not tell me you are wary of him because you think he may harm me during training.”

Eglerion did not reply, his gaze drawn to the floor. Elboron scoffed. “Oh, please. At least try and come up with a better, more plausible reason.”

“Is the off-chance of you being injured not enough?”

“Everything one does could, at any moment, potentially result in injury. For instance, I could trip and twist my ankle or I could fall off my horse and break my leg.”

“I doubt such a scenario would ever occur. You have your mother’s blood.”

“What does my mother have to do with anything?”

“You are a son of Rohan.”

Elboron stiffened. “Not really, no.”

“Was your mother not the Lady Éowyn of the Shield-arm? Éomer King’s younger sister?”

“So I was told.”

Eglerion frowned. “Whatever do you mean, my lord? Surely you…”

“It is a private affair which I do not enjoy discussing.”

“If I recall correctly…you never met her.”

“She died when I was born.”

Elboron’s eyes glistened with unshed tears which threatened to roll down his cheeks. Eglerion glanced at him and rested a hand on his shoulder, ever careful not to tighten his grip on it. “Forgive me. It was uncalled for.”

“You spoke the truth. I never met her. I never shall.”

“I never thought you would cry because of something I said. I would rather die than cause you pain and I mean it. I see now that I might have accidentally hurt you far more than your sister’s husband ever did. I hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive me, for it was done unwillingly.”

“You have no fault. Be at ease. Though it may appear so, I am not saddened.”

“I…do not understand. You may call me a fool if you wish, but…”

“I am angry, Eglerion. I am angry at her for leaving me.”

“She did not choose her fate, my lord. I am sure that, if she were here…”

“She isn’t though, is she?”

Eglerion sighed. “I understand your pain, but…”

“No, you don’t. No one can. You do not know what it feels like to be motherless. The Lady Finduilas tried her best to fill the void…she tried so hard…”

“I thought you loved her.”

“And I do. I love her very much. But she’s not my mother. She never was. To me, she is my father’s wedded wife and mother to my siblings and I respect and love her as such. I am grateful to her, but I fear that she could never replace my mother. And it pains me because the Lady Finduilas has always been so nice and considerate. She loves me and, although the feeling is indeed reciprocated, I…I simply cannot bring myself to call her my mother.”

“I wish I could help somehow.”

“There is no way you can help. Just accept that not everything about me can be fixed. Leave it alone, will you?”

“I do not believe you need to be fixed and I would like you to agree with me. Please, don’t you ever think so lowly of yourself again. You are…quite alright as you are, if I may say so.”

That's it!

I hope you liked them and do let me know which one-shot you'd be most interested in reading!

Open tags!

WIP tag game!

I got tagged by @nerdanel01 which was a double treat because not only I get to share my WiPs but also I got to read excerpts from the next update of Love is a Stranger 😍😍😍

Rules: You will be given a word. Then you share one sentence/excerpt from your WIP(s) that starts with each letter of your word!

Right now I have three WiPs going on: 1. Under our Darkening Skies (Boromir) - Chapter 3 2. Tales from the Lighthouse (Emmrich x Osla "Rook" Mercar, multichapter, cannon setting) 3. Small Town Horror (Emmrich x Osla, multichapter, small town AU) My key word is:

LIGHT

[L] - from Small Town Horror

"Listen, Varric, I appreciate…" Varric held out his hand. "Just… hear me out, Rook. I know you won't accept charity, so how about a deal?" "A deal?" Osla echoed warily. Varric nodded. "We help each other, just like in the old times. No handouts, no debts, just clean cut business." "Alright," said Osla, "I'm listening." "You remember my brother Bartrand?" "Of course," said Osla. The mention of Bartrand got her attention. "Tarquin told me he's had some sort of a… crisis. How is he?" "Hmm… Better than a month ago, when his head went crackers. Still nowhere near mentally stable. He's been admitted to an… institution. It was going to be temporary, initially, but with how his recovery is going so far, the doctors think it might become more of a… permanent arrangement." Osla felt a pang of guilt. She wasn't the only one going though it. Hers wasn't the only family that got broken. Suddenly her drunken antics seemed like a childish tantrum. She should get a grip. "Shit, Varric, I'm sorry," she offered lamely. "Yeah, well, it is what it is," said Varric. "But this is where you come in. You see, I need someone looking after the Tethras Farm in the meantime. How about you move in there, take care of the animals during the cold season, and uncle Varric will cover your living expenses ? Hm?" "Please don't refer to yourself as my uncle ever again," said Osla.

[I] - from Small Town Horror

In a moment of bravado, he decided to drive to the farm and check on her. Maybe something had happened. Maybe… Maybe she broke and… indulged? He was glad he himself hadn't been drinking at the party. He walked the short distance along the Main Street to the clinic, popped in the front door to grab his car keys. The ride to the Tethras Farm wasn't a long one, but it required some concentration - the country road had no street lights. As he approached the farm, he could see from afar that the windows were lit. That meant Osla was likely at home. Emmrich felt relieved. As he approached, more details became apparent: one, that the gate to the farm's frontyard was open, and two, that a silver minivan was parked right next to Osla's old pickup. Emmrich did not recognize the car. Did Osla have guests over from outside of Mournville? He read the minivan's plate - it was from the Nevarra City, which confirmed his suspicion. Emmrich felt self-conscious. Coming to check up on Osla when she was alone was one thing, but ringing her doorbell to be greeted by her family or a group of friends - that would be something else entirely. What if… what if she had a gentleman, or a lady friend over? Was that why she'd missed the party?

[G] - from Under our Darkening Skies

"(…) go," said a voice over Boromir’s head, and he felt the weight that was pinning him down lift. An outstretched hand appeared above him; Boromir took it and hauled himself upright. “Hail Boromir of the White Tower,” said the rider who had helped him up. Boromir recognized his pointed helmet with horsehair crest as the sign of the Marshal of the Mark, but even without it, his voice was familiar and gladdened Boromir’s heart. “Hail Eomer, son of Eomund!”, he said. “Ever are the Lords of Gondor welcome in the King’s Folde, and Boromir first among them,” said Eomer, who seemed to be in high spirits, still in battle frenzy. “Even when he appears mid-fight, out of thin air, no less. Now I must know, whatever were you doing in this orcish camp, alone and unarmed?” “Preparing for dinner,” said Boromir tersely.

[H] - from Tales from the Lighthouse

He saw, with some mortification, that Manfred had taken the Tevene medallion out of his satchel and was waving it at Rook, proudly displaying his plunder in front of her. “Hiss!” the spirit called out, pointing to the decoration. Emmrich saw Rook turn pale and wide-eyed. He hastily stood up, preparing to intervene. “Rook, if you would allow me to expla-” he began, but was interrupted. “That’s mine!” Rook hissed, snatched the medal with a trembling hand and clutched it to her breast. Whatever the origin of the trinket, it must have held a great value to Rook, judging by her immediate reaction. Emmrich approached her carefully, feeling everyone’s eyes on himself. “Please, accept mine and Manfred’s sincerest apologies. He didn’t mean to steal it from you, he just collects random objects that he finds interesting,” he sighed. “I will strive to watch him more carefully next time.” He could tell that his apology had only been moderately successful at mollifying Rook’s outrage. Clearly, she counted touching the medallion for a serious transgression. Her eyes remained trained on Manfred, who in turn was giving off a strong aura of alarm and confusion at her outburst - an aura that Rook, lacking magical talent, had no way of perceiving, Emmrich knew. Still, she appeared hesitant, perhaps fighting some inner battle about how to respond in this situation. At last, she came to a resolve. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, which appeared to be her preferred method of soothing her nerves. “You are welcome to look at it, Manfred, but please, ask me next time,” she told the skeleton calmly, even though Emmrich could tell how much it cost her. “I really don’t want it to get lost or damaged,” she added.

[T] - from Tales from the Lighthouse

They entered the battered pier carefully, looking for any sign of movement on the deck, detecting no one. They couldn’t see the actual deck over the board. Suddenly, an elf swung from the air on a rope and landed on the board, in an acrobatic feat. He was well out of reach of any direct attack, and no walkway has been lowered to the pier, so there was no way to arrest the newcomer. Osla took the stranger's measure. He was an adult elf, maybe a few years younger than Emmrich, which would give him well over a decade over Osla herself. Slender physique with catlike movements and a well fitting leather armor marked him as a rogue type of fighter. His skin was tan and wind-weathered, with prominent charming laugh lines surrounding his eyes. He was favoring them with a self-satisfied grin, framed by a mop of blonde hair flying in the wind. “Arainai!” growled Lucanis. “Get down here so I can end you.” “Lucanis, you know him?” Osla asked, incredulous. Lucanis frowned and was about to answer when the strange elf cut him short. “Evidently not as well as he thinks he does. I no longer belong to House Arainai, nor do I claim their name. These days, I go simply by Zevran. At my lady’s service," he bowed theatrically. “Zevran? I’ve heard that name somewhere,” said Taash. “Do not trust a word out of his mouth, Rook” warned Lucanis. “Why? Is he a rival assassin?” asked Osla. “Worse! He is a contract breaker!” said Lucanis and spat, as if the very phrase left a bad taste in his mouth. The elf uttered an exaggerated sigh. “As ever my reputation precedes me, I see,” he tutted and shook his head in mocked disbelief. “In my life, I have only ever broken a single contract (…)"

***

Tagging: @scyllas-revenge, @sotwk, @konartiste, @esta-elavaris, @dismalzelenka, @lavenderprose, @emmg, @lucifers-legions

Your word is:

TRUTH

#tag game #wip tag game #my ocs #my wips #my fics #excerpts #author: annabthesolitarywriter #author: me

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nebulouscoffee · 1 year ago

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The thing about Jadzia Dax and Elim Garak is I know they are such, such different characters, but I also just know I am drawn to them for the exact same reasons. Like- idk, they both just have this very specific ✨quality✨ to them that makes me go "BESTIE!! What is UP with you!!!" and break out the sixty thousand word character study multichapters dissecting their brains under a microscope

I mean, flirty gay aliens!! Flirty gay aliens who drop the craziest lore about their lives all the time but when you actually sit down and think about them, you realise you barely know anything about them at all- flirty gay aliens who wear masks of camp and Performance held together by 6342 quips because they don't quite know who they are without it and honestly most days they feel more like collections of interesting Characters than people, and they cover this up with Spectacle and Duty because they are scared to interrogate this, scared to be visible, scared to be boring, and furthermore they feel like they can never truly be known, never truly go back home, because they're so proud of and defined by what species they are but in reality have such fraught relationships to their home worlds- flirty gay aliens whose complicated relationships with the idea of "family" made them construct their whole lives and their concepts of "worth" around One Specific Goal and are scared to ask who they are without it because they fear that the answer is no one, so instead they just smile and drop some more crazy lore and 352 jokes per minute

#writing this post made me realise!!#'Who We Are': 60k word dax fic where j@dzia loses the symbiont & has to learn to live without it as kira & jul1an angst in the background #'Pretenders': 60k word g@rak fic where g@rak loses cardassia & has to learn to live without it as kira & jul1an angst in the background #they're the same fic!! I just took away their Purpose™️ mwahahahaa #I think I am interested in questions of 'who am I when I no longer can be [person I always set out to be]'#'how do I keep on living when my main purpose in life has become unattainable'#'how can I contribute to the world now that I feel like my entire life was worthless'#beloved worm & horrible lizard <333 I am obsessed with u #ds9 #my fics

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cheriecoke · 1 year ago

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.𖥔 ݁ ˖ my girl — nanami kento

summary: you know the kid that kento mentors has a little crush on you; why wouldn't you use that to your advantage?

contents: 18+ mdni, fem!reader, brat taming, possessive sex, semi-public sex, hair pulling, pet names, praise, dom nanami, jealousy, ino has the hots for you, unprotected sex, kinda deg, slight dumbification, um i think that's it clearly i am so desperate for nanami and i haven't even watched the new episode — 2.3k

under the table, you slide your palm up kento’s thigh as he speaks.

he's explaining something about sorcerer politics that you’re not really interested in hearing about, not when there’s an ache between your thighs that he refused to take care of before you left, and his sleeves are rolled up in the way he knows drives you crazy.

across from the two of you, ino sits, attentively listening to your husband as, every few seconds, his eyes subtly slide over to you, the pink flush on his cheeks returning each time he glances at the soft smile that rests on your glossy lips.

ino’s crush on you is no secret. he is, really, quite obvious about how much he wants your attention.

of course, he knows about you and kento, has known since he first set eyes on you at a sorcerers’ meeting and asked you, slyly, if you were single.

kento had come up behind you not a moment later, smiling with a golden band on his ring finger, asking ino if he forgot to introduce his wife.

and though the younger sorcerer respects nanami, perhaps more than anyone, it does little to quell the attraction he has for his wife… especially since you are so insistent on teasing the poor kid at every chance you get.

you can’t help it, really, when it riles kento up so easily. the way he vibrates under his skin with anger, irritated that another person could ever think of his wife in any manner that is less than respectable.

kento sets your hand gently back down on your lap, jaw clenching as his fingers twist around your wrist tightly. though he hides his irritation well, you can tell from the sharp glint in his eye, the tension in his shoulders, that it is getting the best of him.

your husband may be sweet, a lover that never acts rashly out of anger, but he has a possessive streak he’s never been very good at taming.

as kento stiffens, you smile sweetly at ino, who exhales heavily, shifting all of his attention on your husband. though, you are staring him down, listening attentively to every word that he says.

while ino speaks, you slide your hand back over kento’s thigh, vying for his attention. he clears his throat, a warning, as he grips your wrist once more and pushes you away.

it won’t be much longer before he snaps. kento's sitting straighter, back taut as he focuses his gaze sharply on the younger man across from him. whatever the two of them are speaking about is dull, repetitive talk about work that you are bored of.

“so, ino,” you finally ask, the lull in the conversation that you've been waiting for. you speak up before kento can ask any more questions about the sorcerer’s progress. “any pretty sorcerers caught your eye?” you lean froward with a small grin, your breasts fully on display as you set your chin in your palm. “surely someone as charming as you already has a girlfriend."

ino turns red then, a flush spreading from every corner as he tries, so hard, not to let his eyes fall. you admire the effort, really, even though kento catches the moment the younger man's gaze drops, the half second he stares at your tits and squirms in his seat.

“n-no,” ino stutters, nervous for the first time in this conversation; he is usually so loud and outspoken, never feeling shy about the words that leave his lips. “can’t seem to find many sorcerers my age.”

you laugh. it’s true that there are few sorcerers from his year, but you know it is the wrong thing to say.

anger radiates off your husband, and with a sense of satisfaction, you trace your fingers back up his thigh before grinning, batting your eyelashes at ino.

“why not go for someone older, then?” you ask, palming a hand over the steadily growing bulge in kento’s pants

ino chokes, and kento grabs your hand roughly, shoving your fist back onto his lap as he steadies all his anger and buries it down.

“excuse me,” kento suddenly interrupts, and his voice is so calm, so smooth, that its almost like nothing is out of the ordinary. he slides out of the booth, running a palm over his slacks, palms sweaty from his annoyance. “i just remembered i’ve got an important phone call to make. could we put a pause on this conversation?” he is so polite as he nods his head, and ino blinks, looks between the two of you, uncertain if he’s done something wrong.

“of course,” he says, leaning back in his seat. “take you time.”

“would you come with me, sweetheart?” kento turns to you then, and he sounds normal, like there’s nothing wrong, but his hands flex at his side, and his eyes are narrowed almost imperceptibly.

kento’s mad, and you know you’re fucked; but you can't help the desire that sits heavily in your stomach, the way you’re already soaking your panties, wanting him inside you.

“sure, ken.” you nod, smiling at him. “sorry, ino, we’ll back right back.”

you stand next to your husband, who places a heavy hand on your shoulder, a warning. but you love the feeling of his skin on your own and it does little to stop your teasing; it only makes you want him more.

ino says nothing as kento leads you around the restaurant, takes you to the back of the shop where there are two single-person bathrooms. one is occupied, and the other, empty.

the two of you go inside.

“are you trying to embarrass me?” kento says angrily, shoving you into the bathroom as he locks the door behind him, his eyes hungry at the sight of your flushed cheeks, the way you are already so desperate for him. he pushes you towards the sink, eyes flashing as you reach for him, hastily undoing his tie. “you’re acting like a fucking brat whose husband doesn’t know how fuck her right.”

“maybe you don’t,” you counter, yanking off his tie so you can unbutton his shirt, slide your hands across the expanse of his chest. god, you want him so fucking bad. you’re aching, arousal pooling in your panties as your husband lifts you, shoves you back onto the sink. “you wouldn’t even take care of me before you left—“

“don’t start.” he glares and unzips his slacks to free his half-hard cock, stroking it as you try to get your hands on him. though that attempt is feeble as kento grabs both your wrists with one hand, pinning them above your head. with the other, he hikes your dress up, pushing it along your smooth thighs.

his voice is low and dangerous, deepening as he dances fingertips along your skin. “you’re so fucking desperate for attention that you’ll take it from anyone.” he pins you with his hard gaze, and you’re hot all over, legs shaking with anticipation. “i bet you like that he wants to fuck you so bad, even when you know i can fuck you better.”

you whimper, eyelids fluttering as kento reaches under your dress to pull down your panties.

“prove it, then” you say, and you know you’re only digging yourself a deeper hole, annoying him further as you grope at him. you squirm, trying to release your wrists from his hold, but he’s so strong; you’re only left a writhing mess under his touch. “i want you, kento.”

“yeah?” he asks, yanking your panties roughly down your thighs, the pair that has already been soaked through. “if i give you what you want, will you sit there quietly like a good girl, and stop flirting with the kid who wants something he can’t have?”

the tone sends aching need throughout you, and the commanding presence of his voice is almost too much. “i promise,” you say, shaking as you lock your heels around his hips. “please.”

“please,” kento repeats mockingly, eyes hard as he slips a finger inside of you. he slides right in, barely needing to prep you before he fucks you. “you should be embarrassed; you’re this fucking wet just from looking at me." his eyes harden. "so impatient that you can’t even wait until we get home.”

“i’ve been patient all day,” you say, high-pitched, but you’re quickly silenced as kento slides in and out of you, setting a steady pace while his thick fingers squelch inside your aching pussy. “need you to—“

“stop making demands." he releases your wrists to place a hand on your hips, stop you from fucking yourself on his fingers. “shouldn’t even be giving you what you want, but i can’t help myself. you’re so pretty, so desperate to have my cock inside you that you can’t even sit still.”

“kento, fuck,” you groan, grabbing his shoulders as he stretches his fingers deeper inside you, past the walls that clamp down on him. in a desperation to keep quiet, you try to kiss him, moan into his mouth so no one else can hear you.

but he grips your hair tightly, pulls you away from his lips as you moan, loudly, into the tight space of the bathroom. “nice try.” his fingers pump in and out of your soaked cunt. “but i want everyone to hear those pretty sounds, sweetheart. need them to know who’s fucking the brat out of you.”

you try to pull him towards you, shift him closer with your ankles. “kento—”

“louder.”

“kento, fuck, baby, please. i want you so bad, i love you—” you’re almost screaming, desperate to cum as his thumb brushes against your clit, teasing, and not enough for you to find complete release.

but you’re squeezing so tightly around his fingers that he must know you’re close, even as he pulls out of you, the juices from your need for him soaking his knuckle.

finally, he smiles at you, softly.

“there’s my good girl,” he says, and it reminds you why you never want anyone else but him, why you need him, desperately, all the time. kento’s cock is already aching, leaking, and he forces it into you without warning, grunting into your neck. “sometimes, you're just so fucking stupid when you want my cock.”

you nod, whimpering out a breathy moan as he thrusts into you, hard and rough, still holding you by the hair so you can’t kiss him, even as much as you want to.

you’re so hot all over, skin burning as he stretches you. “please, let me cum, ken,” you say, and there’s tears in your eyes; you’re so close, but you want to be good for him, want to show him how much you love him.

he hums against your neck, watches you writhe as he forces himself deeper into you, burying his cock in your pussy completely.

you can’t help the sinful noises that leave your throat, echoing down the vents to the kitchen, to the dining room. and maybe everyone in the restaurant can hear your husband fucking you, but you don’t care, not when you’ve waited this long for him to be inside you.

“so pretty,” he says, sharply, and finally, he lets his hands fall from your hair, holds your hips instead, bringing you harder onto his cock.

a tear rolls down your cheek and you bite down on your tongue to keep from screaming, whimpering at the aching pleasure in your entire body.

“you’re mine,” kento says, kissing you sloppily, hungrily as you thread your fingers through his hair. his tip brushes the sensitive spot inside you, and you're not sure how much longer you can stop yourself from cumming. “mine, mine, mine. no one else should ever get to fucking look at you if they can’t tell who you belong to.”

“i don’t want anyone but you,” you say, and you’re almost shouting, saliva all over your mouth as you drool from his harsh kisses. "i'm yours, kento."

you feel him smile against your lips. “that’s my girl,” he says, voice rough as he grips you tightly, nearing his own orgasm. “you wanna cum, pretty? make a mess on my my cock, sweetheart. i’m so close.”

his thrusts grow sloppy, and you grip his shoulders as he fucks deep into you cunt, forcefully, and, finally, you cry out, toes curling as you cum, hard, around him.

kento’s face is flushed, sweat at his hairline as his tips edges against your cervix, almost painfully, before he’s toppling over the edge, biting down hard on your shoulder with a groan. hot ropes spill into your cunt, and you're still writhing, moaning from sensitivity as his warm seed settles deep within you.

he’s so pretty; you kiss him over and over, the loose hair that sticks to his forehead, the flush on his cheeks. “mmm,” you hum, tasting the coffee on his tongue. “love you so much, kento,”

“you say that now,” he says curtly, slowly dragging himself out of your tight walls. “but wait until we get home.”

already, your pussy aches again, and you’re too warm, sweating as kento fixes his hair in the mirror.

you try to slide your panties back on, reach for where they've pooled at your ankles, but kento is faster. he yanks them away, folds them up nicely to tuck into his pocket.

“kento—”

“leave them off,” he says, sniffing as his cheeks slowly return to their normal color. “maybe ino will stop thinking about fucking my wife if he sees my cum running down her thighs.”

you stare at him, blinking, but you don’t have the energy or the willpower to fight anymore. instead, you obey, standing as a mix of kento's cum and your own juices seep onto your inner thigh, creating a sticky mess between your legs.

your husband unlocks the door, and you follow him back into the dining room, where ino is subtly sliding back into the booth, his cheeks red, a bulge obvious in his pants. he glances between the two of you with wide eyes, and darts his gaze back down between your legs, before staring at kento uncomfortably.

“did you get your call sorted out?” he asks, and his voice is higher, squeakier as you sit down with your husband.

kento smirks, satisfied. “it’s been taken care of.”

i need him to fuck me so bad

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incognit0slut · 3 months ago

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On camera

PART 4 OF KINKTOBER | MAIN MASTERLIST

Roommate!Spencer x Camgirl!Reader Spencer requests to take on a more involved role in one of your live streams.

content: (18+) 4k, exhibitionism/voyeur, reader wears lingerie, unprotected penetrative sex, creampie, overstimulation (surprisingly it’s him for once), and a hint of cockwarming at the end a/n: this is the second part to a special show although you don't necessarily have to read it to understand what’s happening. this took a while because… there was a little pressure? i didn’t expect people to wait on this i hope it lives up to the expectations, let me know what you think my cuties<3

You nudged your foot against his. “We don’t have to do this, you know. I don’t mind.”

“I’m fine."

"Are you sure? You've been quiet ever since you sat down."

He felt the words knot up in his throat. The quiet wasn’t hesitation, it was disbelief. The kind that lingered in the gap between what he imagined and what was happening. The lack of conviction that defied logic, even when he was the one who initiated to exist beyond just a pair of hands at the edges of the frame.

"Spence?”

He glanced at you. Deep pools of brown drowning in lust swept over the piece of lingerie you decided to put on tonight. Even without much fashion sense, Spencer could appreciate the soft frills of purple lace clinging to your figure. The garter belt wrapped snugly around your waist, leading down to thin straps that framed your smooth thighs, and every logical thought he tried to root out slipped away the longer he looked at you.

Wait. Purple?

Purple.

Although Spencer was sure it probably had a fancier, specific name that bordered on… lilac? Lavender? Or something else elusive he couldn’t quite pin down. To him it was just purple. He might not have the vocabulary to describe the exact shade, but he knew the way it looked on you was nothing short of captivating.

“You’re wearing purple.”

The frown creased between your brows as you tried to make sense of his sudden observation.

“I am.” Your lips formed a slight pout. “And you still haven’t answered my question.“

And he still couldn’t bring himself to answer.

“I thought you were supposed to be Princess Pink?”

The words left his mouth before he could stop them. It was true. Pink was your color. The soft, playful blush had always been part of your alter ego. You shifted on your feet, glancing down at the purple lace hugging your hips before meeting his eyes again. A small, hesitant smile tugged at the corners of your lips, and for a moment, you looked almost… shy.

“Well, yeah,” you admitted, your voice so soft it dipped into a tone he wasn’t used to hearing from you. Your fingers traced the edge of the fabric absently, and you glanced away again as if finding the floor more interesting.

“I thought maybe… it might help, you know? Calm your nerves or something.” The nervous laugh creeping out of you sounded strained. “I know you like purple… so I figured…”

The corner of his lips curled upwards. His smile reminded you of the times he caught you off guard with a look that was equally amused and deeply affectionate as if he couldn’t believe his luck.

“You wore it for me?”

You felt warmth rise to your neck but decided there was no point in hiding it. “I thought it might make this less scary for you.”

His smile faltered. “I’m not scared.”

“Spencer, you’re about to get naked.”

“You’ve seen me naked before.”

You couldn’t help but let out an amused laugh. He stated it so plainly with no hint of self-consciousness or hesitation. And technically, he was right. You had seen him completely, wholly bare more times than you could count by now ever since that first night you stripped away his innocence.

You still remembered how you had pulled him across the line from a curious roommate to someone who wanted to know every inch of your body. And that night turned into another, and then another, until what you were doing stopped being about one-off hookups and started blurring the boundaries you’d drawn between friendship and something more. Something you couldn't quite put your finger on that felt heavier than lust but not quite defined as love.

Spencer was a roommate, a friend, a lover, and eventually, an active participant in your live streams.

His hands were, at least.

You took a step forward, slipping between his legs where he sat comfortably at the edge of your bed. “I have seen you naked,” you agreed, “but they haven’t.”

His hands hovered at your waist, fingers twitching over your lace as if he wasn’t sure where to put them. He glanced up at you, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips before he finally admitted, “Okay… maybe I am a little nervous.”

“I know, but you don’t need to be. Think of it this way, the people who are going to see us will only be jealous of you.”

“Why would they be jealous of me?”

“Because you’re the one who gets to be with me.” You reached up to brush his hair back from his face, tucking those long, unruly strands behind his ear. “They’re in their rooms jerking off to a screen while you get to kiss me.”

A kiss fell on his lips.

“Touch me.”

Another peck.

“And fuck me.”

He chased your lips this time, his mouth puckering before he closed the gap. His words were muffled against you, “I am pretty lucky.”

“The luckiest,” you mumbled back. A soft smack of a kiss lingered in the air when you pulled away. “And you don’t have to worry, once we get started, you’ll be too distracted to remember what you were even nervous about.”

He hummed, the sound deep and rumbling in his chest as his grip on your waist tightened. “I think you might be right.”

“Good.” You moved to the side of the bed. “Now let me set up the camera.”

The tripod attached to the top of your computer screen wobbled slightly as you fiddled with it, adjusting the device until the lens angled down. You observed the setup, making sure it captured your body and the way Spencer’s hand rested on your waist without revealing either of your faces.

Perfect.

“You ready?”

Surprisingly, he was.

With a slight nod from him, you turned on the live stream.

Princess_Pink is online.

Spencer’s eyes widened as the chat erupted in a flurry of notifications, messages pouring in so rapidly they blurred into an endless stream of words.

“That’s a lot of people," he muttered under his breath.

“That’s the usual amount of people.”

“No, it’s not,” he countered. “I can’t even keep up with the chat.” Which was saying a lot. For someone who could read entire pages of text in mere seconds, this was overwhelming in a way he hadn’t anticipated.

“Don’t let them intimidate you.” You turned around and slipped between his legs again, feeling the way his knees instinctively parted to make space. “Just focus on me.”

Spencer barely managed to nod before your lips met his again, and with that, everything else seemed to dissolve. He could never quite get used to how effortlessly you could unravel him with just a kiss. His hands slid up the back of your thigh, the rough pads of his fingers brushing over your skin as they trembled slightly, grazing the delicate strap of your garter before settling firmly on your ass.

A surprised giggle bubbled out of you.

“Easy there,” you murmured, catching his bottom lip gently between your teeth before letting it go with a playful tug. “I have to greet them first.”

He reluctantly loosened his grip, letting his fingers linger on you for a final moment before slipping away to rest at his sides. His eyes remained fixed on you as you turned away, shifting your focus back to the screen and reaching over to the mic.

A faint hum filled the room as it came to life. Spencer could feel his breaths gradually falling into sync before your sweet voice cut through the silence like honey.

“Hi, boys,” you purred, letting the greeting roll off your tongue. “Did you miss me?"

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You rolled your eyes as the comment popped up in the chat.

“This is getting old,” you said with a sigh, fingers hovering over the mouse. “You’re all obsessed with him.”

With a quick flick of your wrist, you blocked the troll and watched with satisfaction as his name disappeared from the list. Spencer tried to peek over your shoulder. “What did they say?”

“Nothing important,” you replied lightly, brushing it off as you turned back to the mic. "Didn’t I tell you guys to play nice?”

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“Remember, if you can’t behave, you don’t get to stay. And I don’t think any of you want to miss out on what we've prepared."

That was his cue, right? He forced down the tightness in his throat, the sensation catching and shifting like a dry click as his pulse quickened. With a quiet exhale, he slipped off the edge of the bed and made his way behind you.

There was a moment of hesitation. But his doubt faded into the background as he focused on the curve of your waist beneath his fingers. He let his hands move slowly, tracing upward with a touch that lingered at the dip of your spine until his fingers brushed the delicate lace of your bra.

Wide hands covered the soft swell of your breasts.

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“See?” you breathed, pressing your back against him. “You play nice, you get to enjoy the show.”

He couldn’t help but squeeze your flesh, fingers sinking in and then pulling back, the skin dimpling under the pressure before slowly springing back. His veins looked prominent, winding up his forearm like delicate, raised lines that caught the light on camera every time he moved over the fabric of your bra.

And the lace offered the thinnest barrier. He could feel the way your nipple firmed underneath his touch, straining subtly as if it, too, was reaching out for more. He traced small, lazy circles around it, and when you arched into him, he had to bite back a smile. He pressed a kiss on your shoulder instead.

“You’re so good at this,” you muttered, letting your hand drift up to the back of his head, fingers threading through his hair.

He let out a quiet hum of acknowledgment, his fingers hooking under the edge of your bra’s cup before pulling it down. Your breasts bounced slightly, settling naturally in his palm as the lace slipped away.

“I’ve had a lot of practice.”

A soft moan escaped you as he began to explore, and Spencer couldn’t help the surge of satisfaction that followed. He was rougher than he intended to be at times, testing the line between what made you shiver and what made you push back for more. It was the way he rolled both of your nipples between his fingers, alternating between gentle pinches and firmer twists, that finally drew the most telling reaction—a subtle, instinctive rub of your ass against him.

He took it as a sign to touch you further, one hand drifting lower while the other stayed firmly in place. Goosebumps prickled over your skin as he slid down your stomach until he reached the edge of your panties. His fingers skimmed along the waistband, and you could feel his breath coming in quick, shallow bursts as he brushed his knuckles underneath the delicate material, hesitating.

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That was enough to break through his hesitation. Without a word, he slipped his fingers beneath the lace.

The heat between your thighs greeted him, and there was no mistaking what that meant. You were wet, so wet that his fingers glided over your folds like silk. He couldn’t help but feel a flicker of smugness as each subtle shift seemed to draw a new sound from your lips.

He let his fingers slide lower, searching, and when he finally found your clit, brushing his fingertips lightly over it, you jerked in his arms. The tiny, sensitive nub was swollen and begging for attention as it pulsed under his touch like a racing heartbeat. He gave gentle rubs. Slow circles. Steady pressure. The more he explored, the more your arousal smeared against his fingertips.

“Oh—you’re gonna make me cum so fast,” you gasped. You threw your head back against his shoulder, letting out a whine you knew would drive your viewers wild. “What do you think, boys? Should he make me cum now?”

The chat lit up instantly, flooded with messages begging you to let go, but between the rapid scroll of usernames and flashing emojis, one message caught your eye.

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The notification flashed across the screen, and you felt a surge of adrenaline, a wicked smile playing on your lips. “Do you see that, baby?”

He nodded against your neck.

“They want more of you,” you purred, letting your hips roll back against him, pressing yourself closer to his obvious erection. “They want to see just how good you make me feel.”

Your words went straight to his cock. His touch suddenly changed as he began to move faster against your clit, and a choked gasp spilled from your lips. But just as the pressure started to build rapidly, you quickly grabbed his wrist, pulling his hand from your panties.

“No, not yet,” you stopped him, turning your head to catch his ear, your lips brushing against the shell. “Wanna cum on your cock.”

He watched as you reached down and slowly hooked your fingers into the sides of your panties, sliding them down your legs. A thin string of your arousal followed as you lowered the fabric, clinging to the lace before it finally broke and left a glistening trail against your thigh.

His balls tightened painfully.

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Spencer’s mind emptied the moment you leaned forward, planting your palms firmly on the desk for balance. The way your body arched made his pulse stutter, a surge of heat rushing through him so quickly it almost left him lightheaded.

“Like… this? Standing?”

You glanced back at him over your shoulder. “Exactly like this.”

He could barely think straight. His hands moved on their own, one sliding over your hips, gripping you firmly, while the other fumbled with his waistband, desperately tugging his pants down. The fabric slid down over his thighs, and he bit back a groan as his cock sprang free, hard and aching, pressing against the bare skin of your ass.

He could feel the heat of you against him, and it took every ounce of self-control to keep himself from sinking into you all at once. He pressed in closer, feeling the steady thrum of his pulse echoing in the ache between you both as the tip of his cock settled right where your folds parted. He rocked his hips in shallow motions.

“Baby…” You tilted your hips just enough to align with him, “no teasing."

But hearing those words only made him want to draw it out even more. He let his bulging head nudge at your hole, barely dipping in before pulling back, feeling the way you instinctively pressed against him.

"Spe—" you faltered, then groaned. "Stop it."

He couldn’t help but smile as his fingers found the straps of your garter belt. He tugged on one gently, watching the elastic snap back against your skin. "But you look so pretty."

"I'll look prettier with your cock inside me."

That did it. With one last shaky exhale, Spencer gripped your hips firmly and began to sink himself into you, feeling the tight, warm stretch of your cunt.

“Oh my god,” you gasped. He felt a slight resistance as your body adjusted to him. He carefully gave a few gentle thrusts, easing in and out just enough for you to relax.

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His eyes flickered to that last comment, and something inside him shifted, like a switch flipping. Without another thought, without any lingering trace of hesitation, he tightened his grip on your hips and pushed in all at once.

Your moan tore through the air. So. Fucking. Loud.

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The notification flashed across the screen, but Spencer barely registered it, his control was slipping further away as his hips moved on their own. He started to grind into you, eyes traveling to your connected bodies. You were practically swallowing his cock, clenching so tightly around him that he felt like you were pulling him deeper, refusing to let him go.

In a way, you did beg for it. Each time you met his thrusts with an eager roll of your hips, the sound of skin slapping together echoed around you. He would have thought he’d be shy doing this in front of so many watchful eyes, but the way you moved against him made it impossible to care.

It only made him bolder. He let his hand slide up your back, fingers fumbling slightly with the clasp of your bra before he unhooked it. The straps slipped down your shoulders, sliding down your arms, and then you were completely, utterly naked, except for the garter hugging your thighs.

You were so pretty like this, so incredibly beautiful it made his pulse stutter in his veins. You were so pretty that it was almost disorienting, as if looking at you too long might make him forget where he was. And in his mind, all the lofty notions of beauty and art seemed to fall flat compared to seeing you like this. He needed to see all of you.

A startled whimper left your lips when he suddenly pulled out.

“Can you angle the camera down?"

There was a knowing look in your eyes. Your fingers moved to adjust the tripod, and he wasted no time stripping himself. By the time you were done angling the camera, he was already sitting on the edge of your bed, his cock throbbing against his stomach.

He looked painfully hard. Hard enough that every heartbeat seemed to pulse visibly along his length. You crawled onto his lap.

“Hi.”

His palm found the curve of your hip. "Hi."

“Are you okay?”

He nodded, his fingers tightening around the base of his cock as he urged you to lift your hips. “I think I’m starting to understand why you do this.”

“Yeah?”

"Mhm.” He nudged his tip between your folds. “It’s kind of exciting.”

You let out a soft, breathy laugh, fingers curling into his shoulder for balance as you began to lower yourself. “See? Nothing to be nervous about.”

A deep groan escaped his lips the moment your walls tightened around him. “You make this seem easy.”

“Maybe you’re just a natural.”

He gave a low chuckle, but it caught in his throat when he felt the full length of his cock buried inside you. “I… ah… I think you’re the one making me look good.”

“Shut up,” you replied with a grin, burying your face in the crook of his neck. “You don’t need any help looking good right now, trust me.”

Spencer wasn’t entirely sure what to think about that. He’d never seen himself like this, not in the way you did. But when he glanced over your shoulder, catching a glimpse of the screen and the way your hips rolled over him, he started to believe it.

He looked like… well, like the porn he’d watched late at night in his room before you came along. But better. The kind that didn’t seem real, the kind that made him question if anyone actually had sex like that. He knew the vast majority of what’s portrayed in porn is exaggerated with only a small percentage even close to reality. Except this was real. It was really him, and you made it look like he knew what he was doing.

And sure, maybe he did in some way, albeit you being his only real experience. But that was the thing—he knew what made you tick. He could read the way your body reacted, knew the subtle cues that signaled when a whisper of his fingers could coax out a whimper or when the right shift of his hips would leave you trembling. And more than anything else, he knew how much you liked being watched.

He knew just how much it turned you on.

With that thought in mind, Spencer grabbed the firm swell of your ass and spread you open.

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Your body squirmed beneath his hands.

“Babe… what are you doing?”

He ran his tongue over his lips. “Giving them what they want.”

Then he spread your flesh even further, fingers digging into your supple skin as he held you open. The sight was undeniably lewd, and yet he couldn’t deny the surge of pride swelling in his chest as he held you like this, putting you on full display. But more than that, it was what you wanted. The tension coiled in his muscles as he thrust his hips up, watching the movement play out in the reflection over his shoulder.

He could see everything. The slow drag of his cock, the way it stretched you open with each push, leaving no inch of you untouched. Every time he thrust up into you, his length came back slick and shining, catching the light for a split second before disappearing inside you again.

There was something hypnotic in the rhythm, in the way your body seemed to swallow him whole. And somewhere in that steady push and pull, you visibly clenched around him, a vice-like grip that sent a shudder through his body and pulled a deep, harsh groan from his throat.

His hands tightened their grip on you, and before he could think twice, his hips began moving faster. You squealed, an actual high-pitched sound that he hadn’t expected. It was almost cute in a way—if cute was even the right word for what was happening. But there was nothing cute about the way his body reacted to that sound.

His hips bucked upward, again and again by an instinct he couldn’t control. He was so lost in the sensation of your warm, slick pussy that he barely registered the rising tension in his own body. It wasn’t until his muscles locked up, his hips jerking with one final, forceful snap, that it all crashed over him.

Oh shit.

A sudden rush of heat coursed through him as he spilled inside you, the realization hitting him a second too late. His breath came in shallow gasps, a deep groan escaping his throat as pleasure overwhelmed him, leaving him stunned and gasping for air.

You paused, feeling the unmistakable warmth of his release slowly seep inside you. “Baby?”

His eyes widened. “I’m sorry,” he blurted, sliding his hands up your waist. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—that was—”

Fast didn’t even come close to describing what happened.

You cut him off with a soft laugh, shaking your head as your fingers gently cupped his jaw. “Oh, honey,” you cooed. “There’s nothing to apologize for.”

His eyes flickered to the camera behind you. “I ruined everything, didn’t I?”

You followed his gaze, then turned back to him with a smile. “Of course not,” you said softly, threading your fingers through his hair. “You kind of made everything better, actually.”

His brows knitted together. “I did?”

You nodded and wrapped your arms around his shoulders.

“Do you know…”

You started to roll your hips again.

“How hot it is…”

A soft squelch filled the air.

“To fuck with your cum inside me?”

He could barely comprehend the words that had just left your mouth, let alone the feeling of you moving against him. His eyelids struggled to stay open, the question catching in his throat before it spilled out in a breathy whisper. “Hot?”

“Insanely hot.”

Spencer couldn’t describe what happened after that. Obscene didn’t even begin to cover it. Surreal, maybe? But even that word felt lacking. It was all too real. You were rocking your hips on his lap, and the wet, sticky sounds filling the room were undeniably his own doing.

He held your hips tighter, half in an effort to steady himself, half because he didn’t know what else to do. The words were gone. Logic was gone. The only thing that existed was you, grinding against him with the same intensity that had already undone him once.

And he knew he was going to lose it again.

You leaned forward, your forehead pressing gently against his. “Spence, baby,” you whispered, making sure your voice was soft, just loud enough that only he could hear. “Can you fuck me again?”

He couldn’t say no even if he tried. His hands slipped beneath your thighs, fingers curling with just enough force to lift you, tilting your hips for better leverage. The shift pulled a startled gasp from you and you clung to him for balance, but he didn’t give you a moment to catch your breath. His hips met yours in a swift, demanding snap.

The sound of your body meeting was unmistakable, a rhythmic slap that would’ve made him blush if he were in any state to think clearly. But right now, all he could focus on was the mess he’d made of you, the way his cum seeped out, sliding down his cock in slow drips. Whenever he thrust into you, there seemed to be more spilling out, leaving thick, creamy streaks painted across your inner thighs.

Spencer had messy sex before (all with you, of course) but this was on a whole different level. It was chaotic—unapologetically filthy. The wetness between you spread everywhere. He could feel it pooling against his thighs, trickling down your legs, and the damp sheets beneath you were clinging uncomfortably to his knees while the heady scent of sex hit his nostrils.

And your voice wasn’t helping his self-control. It was high-pitched with a tremor, somewhere between a moan and a desperate whine tumbling out in a jumble of words that barely made any sense. Your voice grew higher each minute, more frantic, until finally, he could make out a few clear words through the haze.

“Gonna c-cum,” you moaned, “I’m gonna cu—ah fuck yesyesyes—”

A final, helpless cry pushed him over the edge.

He came for the second time tonight. He tried to hold back, but the way you were clenching around him, your body pulsing through your sudden orgasm tore down what little control he had left. He groaned, burying his face in your neck as his release overtook him again, shocked that he still had anything left to give as he emptied inside you.

The intensity bordered on painful. He could feel his body pushing to its limits and every pulse of pleasure felt like it was wringing him dry. And it was no less intense for you. You jerked against him, body twitching, sweat beading on your skin. Your muscles tightened and relaxed with the rhythm of his racing heartbeat as the last spark of pleasure finally washed over you.

Neither of you moved for a while after that. The only sound in the room was your labored breathing, the heavy rise and fall of your chests pressed together.

You were the first to break the silence.

“Baby,” you hummed, a soft, breathless laugh escaping your lips, “I think that might’ve been the hottest stream we’ve ever done.”

It took a second for your words to sink in, and when they did, his eyes widened slightly. The camera was still on. The audience was still there. His nose pressed harder against your neck as he tried to hide in embarrassment.

“Really? You’re getting shy now?“

His soft groan vibrated against your skin. “I wasn’t exactly thinking about the camera,” he mumbled, his voice muffled against your neck. “It left my mind the moment I… you know.”

You smiled, brushing your fingers through his hair. “Oh, I know. I could tell.”

You started to peel yourself off of him, only for his arms to tighten around your waist. You gave a playful tap on his shoulder.

“What are you doing?”

“Holding you.”

“Why?”

“My brain needs a moment to process this.”

Your hand danced aimlessly across his back. “Still embarrassed?”

“Mortified,” he confirmed.

A giggle slipped out of you, and you wiggled your hips. “We still need to clean up. I don’t think you want to stay like this forever.”

He let out a sound of protest but didn’t loosen his grip. “Just a few more minutes.”

Smiling at his stubbornness, you slid your fingers into his hair, letting your nails scrape lightly against his scalp. "Spencer," you said gently, making sure the mic didn't pick up your voice. “I need to turn off the cam.”

"They wouldn't mind watching us a little longer."

You sighed, feeling the undeniable stickiness between your thighs. It wasn’t the most comfortable feeling, and the warmth was quickly turning into a mess that would need attention sooner rather than later. But there was something so sweet about the way he wanted to hold you that it made it impossible to resist.

"Fine," you relented with a quiet laugh, "five more minutes."

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 22 days ago

Note

how do you think leona would do if he falls in love?

Here are my thoughts in bullet-point/headcanon form for ease of reading! Key word there being my thoughts. (There will of course be different interpretations based on who you ask this question to.)

Standard disclaimer: These points are nothing more than my opinions and I am NOT saying my opinions are any more or less valid or “correct” than yours. Please, I’m not pre-book 1 Riddle/j It’s fine to have other takes; just remember to be mindful in how you communicate differences in opinion.

To start with, here's how I think Leona would deal with the experience of first love:

Firstly, I definitely feel that Leona is the type of person to not easily fall in love. There are many examples in canon of Leona rejecting the love he receives from others, whether it be from his own family (Cheka, Falena), dorm members (Ruggie, Jack, Savanaclaw mobs, etc.), or other peers. Even though he desires others’ approval and praise, he also simultaneously believes the compliments are insincere or that he may not be deserving or worthy of it, that he hasn’t “earned” it. It’s also difficult for him to be emotionally vulnerable with others, and I feel that this would extend to romantic circumstances.

Continuing from the previous point, I think it’d be a slow burn. Like, the feelings develop gradually and manifest in small but increasingly more forward-facing ways like his gaze lingering for a second or two longer than usual, him getting slightly irritable when he smells (I 100% believe that smell is a Big Thing for beastmen) some other guy on the object of his affections, or simply… his mind wandering to them, maybe in a daydream.

A lot of it is Leona musing about the situation and then being in denial. He’s not so oblivious as to ignore what are clearly blossoming feelings, but he's not so hasty as to act on them right away. He'd sit with those feelings, examine them, question them. What is it that he is experiencing and why, how did things come to this, etc. He may even try to convince himself it's a phase or he's "too good" for this or he's "above" this. Really takes a long time to wrestle with his emotions and to sort them out. And then when he has come to his conclusion, he might not be very pleased with it because (as I said before), he has self-esteem and self-worth issues despite outwardly presenting himself as confident and in-charge.

For a while, he keeps his distance and observes. He’s nothing if not a big cat biding his time, keeping an eye on his prey until—BAM! Down comes his paw, ensnaring the mouse. It's like a game of chess or... cat and mouse. You have to watch your opponent and predict their moves, then plan your own moves two or three or more steps ahead of them. He'd want to gauge if they're already taken, if they seem to express an interest in him too, what they like and dislike, information like that. The last thing Leona'd want to do is charge in, guns blazing, only to be rejected and have his pride hurt.

He may also go out of his way to test the object of his affections by purposefully engineering scenarios to see how they react. At first, it's subtle things that could easily be passed off as coincidence or happenstance. For example, maybe Leona would accidentally bump his shoulder against yours or as he's walking by his tail flicks you. That's just the start though. He'd put more pressure on over time. Like he'd be more confrontational, putting himself in your path as some obstacle to overcome, still being sort of an asshole to see how you handle yourself around him.

Leona tells himself he has the upper hand, and he's usually pretty consistent about hiding his feelings to that end. It might peek through here and there, but they easily read as him being tsundere as per usual. I think that would be his way of coping, because deep down he doesn't want to admit that a part of him is scared to feel this way. It's something else he could fail at, someone else he could frighten away or destroy.

With time, I think he'd become more confident. He has a better grasp of the other person, he's been able to sort out his thoughts. But the thing is, his pride is still a major deterrent. Instead of coming out and saying it, it would become another game. If you've ever read or watched Kaguya-sama: Love is War, it'd be similar to that. Leona would push for the other person to be the one to fall for him and confess first. Part of it is he's kind of afraid to be so emotionally vulnerable, part of it is that he's desperate to be wanted and needed by others, and part of it is that he feels he needs to "earn" that love by winning you over. He wants that sweet, sweet validation from you. He wants YOU to choose HIM.

I think he expects a certain amount of push and pull. If the game's too easy for him, the (psychological) hunt loses some of its thrill. I think he'd also be the type to seek a partner that isn't just a blind yes man (despite him giving off the vibes that he wants to be in total control, especially in his own dormitory); they should be able to keep him on his toes one way or another, and they shouldn't idolize him in a really unrealistic way--because then he worries what would happen if they learn about his flaws. Would they see him differently? Reject him? Etc.

It'd take a considerable amount of time and effort, but slowly he'd let the walls around his heart down to let you in--but ONLY if you pass his tests and prove that you can be loyal, trustworthy, and cognizant + accepting of all his flaws. He has high standards, so he's pretty picky about who he allows to be by his side. I don't think he'd be happy having to like... put in a fake "perfect prince" act or airs for someone else. Pretending to be someone you're not in order to have love might be just another source of stress for him.

He would take a more aggressive approach if the object of his affections makes it obvious that they return his feelings. More "accidental" touching (but of course nothing that breaches into something they find discomforting), intentionally dropping phrases that come off as flirtatious, demanding to spend more time together, etc.

If they're not into it, he'd respectfully back off. However, that won't stop him from moping about it in private later.

Then, assuming a scenario in which he and the person he's romantically interested in get together/start formally dating:

I think he'd be a lot more blatant and shameless about "showing off" his affections and/or the relationship in general. Overt flirting at this point, casually laying his head on the shoulder or wrapping an arm or tail around you, etc. Who cares who sees? Let them know you're already taken.

Oh yeah, he's really into physical touch (within whatever limits you deem to be acceptable; he respects your autonomy). Cuddles while napping, hand holding, head pats, listening to your heartbeat, etc. It grants him a sense of security that you're like... physically there with him.

I think words of affirmation are also up there, however I don't think he would appreciate it if it's like... overdone. Too many compliments might start to feel disingenuous or even smothering after a while (what comes to my mind specifically is how he reacts negatively or with denial to his brother, Cheka, Kifaji, and even his own dorm members praising him).

As I mentioned earlier, I think there'd be a lot of banter and teasing; Leona strikes me as someone who likes to toy with his pre or puts up a fight; he still has his pride and won't take sass lying down, he'd definitely retaliate but in a playful way.

Slightly whiny and needy. Key word: SLIGHTLY. He's not going to go full yandere on you. I believe that Leona would be somewhat insecure about the relationship and wants you to validate him with your presence. Like, if you're lying down somewhere and try to get up to leave... he might pout and be all dramatic about it, maybe throw in a sarcastic line about how he's "a delicate prince" and how he'll "wither like a flower" without you.

Slightly possessive. Again, the key word: SLIGHTLY. He's not going to restrict your movements or demand complete control of your life. However, he might sulk if he like... sees some other guy hovering or getting handsy, obviously making you uncomfortable. (If it's a particularly bad day for him, Leona might get intrusive thoughts about being the "second pick" and his partner leaving him for some "better" guy.) We've already seen he can get pretty territorial when it comes to Savanaclaw and the Botanical Garden, so I think at some point he'd also step in to intimidate people he feels are becoming a problem for his S/O. It's not the case for every situation though; his partner should be able to handle themselves or let him know when he's overstepping.

I think he'd be a little more tolerant of things his partner pulls. They're the one exception for certain things, like touching his ears or being more willing to listen to their requests to go to class or to try this new vegetable.

He'd try to distance his S/O from his family, especially in the beginning. Leona would tell them he doesn't think they're ready to meet the royal family yet (especially knowing the rocky relationship he has with his family), but really a lot of this stems from his pride. Falena, for example, honestly might make him look uncool by infantilizing his "baby bro".

Leona doesn't really go out of his way to plan grand gestures (he's not Kalim). If he does anything "big", it's probably like sending Ruggie to your doorstep with fancy flowers and a notecard or something. What he values isn't the "frivolous" stuff, but spending quality time together (even if it's doing nothing in particular). Might still spoil you on, say, special occasions, but he generally dislikes making a big deal of these things.

I think he'd be into you wearing his clothes. It's an easy visual indication that you're intimate enough to do this, but also it cloaks you in his smell so every other beastman in the immediate vicinity also knows you're "marked". Leona tosses his unworn blazer over you, casually saying, "Keep it."

Speaking of!! I think he’d also really like the idea of marking (bites, scratch marks, etc.) or scenting his partner. Just animalistic stuff like that, y’know. I’m sure he could hold himself back if they’re not comfortable with these aspects.

I do believe he has the capacity to be very sappy, but I don't think he'd want to be at this level all of the time. It would probably be limited to private settings and done sparingly, sort of like a treat?? Cuz if he does it too often, then it might lose its "special" feeling, and I also feel like he wouldn't be open to being all squimshy 24/7. Usually his sappiness is sarcastic.

Going to keep it 100 here, he's going to be more vulnerable around you (especially in private), and that means potential traumadumping. That's not to say that he'd do it super frequently to go into full-blown details, but his S/O would be one of the few people he feels comfortable enough with to open about his deepest insecurities and fears. He sometimes needs someone to hear him out, a shoulder to cry on, etc. Of course, he's not going to treat his partner like an unpaid therapist. Leona just... needs some extra support every now and again, reminders that he's doing fine, you know??

IMPORTANT ADDITIONAL NOTES:

Leona being in love would NOT smooth out all the rough edges to his personality. He's not going to white knight/act like you constantly need his protection, he's not going to bend over backwards and do anything and everything his partner asks of him. He still has a will and he can and will disagree or argue if he's opposed to something. He'll still let you handle yourself as needed.

Leona being in love would also NOT magically cure him of his personal issues and struggles. This is also true of the other characters who have deeply rooted trauma, but I feel this point should be included as a reminder anyway. It's of course not his entire personality, but his past experiences will impact how he interprets and reacts to things in present day (hence him being needy/wanting validation, etc.).

Like all relationships (whether romantic or platonic), it would not be flawless. There will be highs and lows, fights and disagreements, etc. This is normal in any relationship; what matters is that you're able to be mature enough to patch things up afterwards and learn from those rough patches.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #Leona Kingscholar #Leona Kingscholar x Reader #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #question #notes from the writing raven #twst headcanons #twisted wonderland headcanons #kaguya-sama: love is war #Kifaji #Neji

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nkogneatho · 1 month ago

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"BETTER WRAP THAT PRESENT UP BEFORE YOU GIVE IT TO ME"

—gojo satoru x reader.

—#TAPE NO 1 OF 'Tis the Season to be Naughty

—cw: fem!reader, cunnigulus, nicknames, reader in lingerie

Throughout your dating life, you have never met a man who was interested in fucking you for your benefit. All they cared about is a quick fuck as long as they cum. Nothing for your pleasure. That changed when you met Satoru. He fucked you for you. To make you see the stars. To make you cum till you couldn't anymore. It's only fair that you returned him the gesture once in a while.

Christmas was Satoru's favorite because he loved spoiling you with gifts, watching your eyes light up and your fingers carefully unwrapped the gift, squealing and kissing him for them. He also loved the way you would beautifully decorate his gifts—he almost never wanted to open them, tearing away your efforts but you insisted—write him little cards with cute hearts drawn on each. But this year, you hid one gift from him.

"Sweetie pie, I am home." He announced, walking through the door. The higher ups tied him up with work even on Christmas eve, yet being the strongest he was, he completed it before time to spend time with his baby.

"Honey?" You didn't reply. The room lights were off, only the fairy lights on the christmas tree illuminating the sexy silhouette of you leaning against the bedroom doorframe.

"Welcome home. Santa left you a package."

"Wha—Holy shit." He walked closer, the soft glow of the lamp light bouncing off your skin and what he thinks is the most provocative lingerie. Red lace hugging your curves in all places oh so beautifully, he was jealous of them.

"Well, well, well...Looks like someone's been busy while I was out, huh?" He gulped. Taking in the sight of your figure barely contained by the lacy red ensemble.

"Santa left one his naughty helpers for me?"

"Mhm" you nod, looking at him with a smirk while his hands pulled in your waist. "Was tired of helping him. Thought you needed to use me more than him." Slender fingers roamed all over your body, thumb lingering on some places for a little longer.

"All this for me?" He questioned, his pointer toying with the string.

"Yeah. All yours, Toru."

"Mmm..." he hummed. "Love unwrapping my presents. This might be the best one yet." That is all that was said before his lips crashed yours, an arm snaking your back to hold you as your arched into him, guiding both of you to the bed. Satory plopped you down but he remained on the edge.

He inhaled loudly, eyes bathing in the sight of you. the exhale followed a little later, almost coming out as a groan. You spread your legs, teasing him with the most inviting posture.

"Fuck. You're going to be the death of me Y/N Gojo." His lips trailed kisses all over your legs before they caught up to your pussy. He could feel it through the lace. All throbbing and wet. Just for him. Poking his tongue out, he pressed it against your clothed sex a few times, making you squirm. his fingers abandoned your thighs to rub you through the red fabric. He didn't take your panties off, just moved it enough to get access of your cunt. He left warm breaths on her.

"Pretty fucking pussy. Always so wet for me," he teased. Moving your thighs further apart, he licked a long stripe between your slick, parting your pussy lips. His eyes closed to feel how good you taste before going on for real. Warm, sloppy muscles making out with each other. Your fingers cascade through his locks, sweet moans leaving your lips.

"Fmuuck. shweet fmucking cwunt," mouth never leaving her. His big hands travel up to palm your tits and pinch your nipples, eyes so focused on you and the way you squirm, yelp and whine.

"Fhhuck. Toru, ngh—feels sooo good."

He continues his adorable abuse on your pussy before he shoves two fingers in your hole, inching you closer and closer to your climax.

"C'mon, princess. Do it for me. Santa sent you to help me, didn't he? Go ahead and help me. Lemme see this cute pussy cum." If you weren't gonna cum from the tongue or the fingers, you sure as hell did from his lewd sentences.

"G-gonna cum, toru. fuck. please ah—"

Soon enough, you were vibrating, thighs closing around his head, and fingers pulling his head too tight.

"Good girl." He breathed as he licked his lips. "Tell Santa thank you. Now..." you heard his belt unbunckle, "time for your present, princess."

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk smut #gojo smut #gojo satoru #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujustsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo x you #gojo x y/n

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cassieopeauh · 2 months ago

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What is this feeling?

Pairings: Elphaba x Reader x Galinda

Summary: You are in love with the two most well known girls at Shizz. They both love you, but loathe each other and loathe that the other loves you. They try to steal you from each other and win you over. Intercourse is had. Feelings are hurt. Everything works out in the end.

Word count: 5100

Warnings: SMUT⚠️, like so so so much smut ya’ll. Porn with some plot. Eating out. Fingering. Thigh riding. Grinding. Slight dry humping. Bra used as gag. Semi public sex. Y/n is lowkey a bop. Brief dom/sub dynamics (the roles are reversed a few times cause y/n is written as a switch) brief hate sex. Angst. Feelings are hurt. Apologies are said. Based off movie knowledge only. They all make up and get together in the end. I think that’s everything.

A/n: Galinda and Elphaba are probably a bit ooc in this srry. I’ve only watched the movie but have been listening to the musical soundtrack for years. Plz don’t roast me if I got some of the stuff about shizz wrong 😢.

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————

“What is this feeling so sudden and new?” Galinda whispers to herself as she watches you below from her shared dormitory balcony.

She shifts her body so her head lays up her arms which lay atop the stone wall surrounding the balcony, as she dramatically sighs and continues to dreamily look at you from above.

Her usually confident and cocky persona felt like it crumbled to pieces whenever she was around you, leaving her uncharacteristically awkward and nervous. Vulnerable. Thus, to her, confessing to you seemed out of the question.

She had tried to wish away these pesky feelings, but to no avail. She had fallen hard.

She watched as you walked over and struck up a conversation with her irritating roommate. Oz, you were so much more kind than her. You had been going out of your way for the last week to befriend the girl because you saw the unjust treatment of her and knew it was undeserved. The same girl that has been nothing but a thorn in her side since they were unfairly roomed together.

Meticulously manicured nails scraped against the concrete beneath her grasp in deep jealousy, as she watched you and Elphaba’s conversation become a bit “too friendly” for her liking. She felt like she was going to scream if this kept up!

“It’s not fair! I am ten times more perfect in every way than that little goth prude! Why does she get first dibs on everything I deserve?” She said aloud to no one. Theatrically slumping down behind the balcony wall and draping her arm over her face.

If overcoming her fears of confessing to be with the one person who had made her feel a true connection with meant keeping her little rival from having what she wanted…

She made up mind right then. She was going to push aside her fears, put on a confident mask, and use her natural charm to snatch you away from Elphaba.

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————

“I felt it the moment I laid eyes on you.” Elphaba was never one to want much, never one to think herself attractive or desirable from the perspective of others, but you had brought out a part of herself she thought she had buried along with all her other wishes.

You were both still new to each other only having been friends for a few weeks, but Elphaba now having understood her feelings saw no reason to wait any longer. Always one to never hold back when it came to speaking her mind, despite fear of rejection, she asked you to accompany her to a secluded part of Shizz so she could communicate her feelings to you.

“I don’t know what to say…” you replied.

It wasn’t that you weren’t overcome with a sense of giddiness whenever you were around her. It was that while having feelings for Elphaba, you had also been harboring the same kind of feelings for your other gorgeous friend Galinda.

You were also well aware of your two love interests' rivalry, knowing no that if you were to start a relationship with Elphaba, the pink obsessed blonde would take it as an act of betrayal.

But at the same time you couldn’t bare to turn down Elphaba, with how much you liked her and knowing her deeply rooted insecurities and how much she must have overcome just to confess to you.

You were fucked either way.

“I… I need time to think… please don’t take it the wrong way, I like you! I do..I just… it’s complicated.” Your heart withered at the sight of Elphaba in front of you putting on a brave face and masking her disappointment. Concealing her feelings and pretending she doesn’t care what people thought of her was her specialty.

“I… understand…….I think it’s best I go now.” Elphaba cast her head downwards as she didn’t want you or anyone to catch a glimpse of the newly forming barley concealed tears. She was so stupid to think you could reciprocate her feelings.

“Elphaba wait!” You called after her, but she carried on striding away from you. What could you say to her anyways? Nothing you could say could soothe the black hair girl’s pain of rejection. It wasn’t even a full rejection! Oh Oz why did you say that! Why does liking more than one person have to be so complicated!

Little had you known a certain blonde haired socialite had followed behind you and Elphaba after overhearing the ravenette asking you to follow her somewhere more private. That same girl had eavesdropped on conversation from behind a stone pillar a safe distance away.

She was now more determined than ever to win you over in light of her now confirmed suspicions of Elphaba having a crush on you as well.

Her heart initially felt like it had broken upon hearing you say you liked her back, and then mended itself at hearing you half reject her. Giving her hope for a chance. She was usually so confident, knowing what she wanted and taking it. That half a second of heartbreak and vulnerability was enough to let her know not having you was simply not an option.

——————————————————————

“What is this? What did you do!” Elphaba’s morning routine was immediately halted as she stepped out of bed at the sight of a wall of pink decor, suitcases, lamps, bags, etc.

“Oh that? I’m simply making room. I’m having y/n over for a girls day after our plans for today. Oh and of course I had to hide your hideously plain side of the room.” Galinda hadn’t even bothered to raise her head to look in her roommates direction as she spoke to her. To busy going through the steps of her complex morning hair routine.

“What? Why would y/n be coming over here? You’re much too stuck up for her to willingly be around.” Elphaba said. Annoyance clear in her voice. The mention of you had caught her off guard though, especially since the two of you hadn’t talked since that mortifying confession.

“I’ll have you know y/n and I are actually friends. And I’m not stuck up, you only happen to think so because you’re the bottom rung of the popularity ladder! You’re simply jealous of the fact y/n would rather be friends with someone perfect like me!!” Elphaba didn’t need to see her face as she could practically hear the girl's smug look in her voice.

Elphaba felt that familiar tingling sensation of the magic building up inside her at Galinda’s harsh words. Words that were unusually cruel for the girl who claimed to be ‘oh so good’. Words born out jealousy and insecurity for the affections she held for y/n.

Just as Elphaba felt like a burst of magic might leave her and crack a second balcony window, a set of four knocks came from the dorm door with the many carved details and brass trim.

A glance between them. One of masked anger and one of feigned innocence with a smugness behind it. Galinda got up to open the door.

“Y/n hiiiii!!!! I’m ever so glad you could make it! Let me show you in!” The blonde took you by the hand and brought you in, closing the door behind her.

“Oh and I don’t believe you’ve met my roommate! This is Elph-“ She started with faux politeness. An attempt at making things more awkward between the two girls in front of her and then whisking you away infront of her rival in a show of pettiness.

“Oh, we’ve met…” You trailed off. Sheepishly avoiding the ravenette’s gaze.

“Yes… we have…” Elphaba suddenly felt very exposed, awkwardly standing. The floor had suddenly become very interesting.

“Oh well I’m so glad that my very best friend and my roomate already know each other! Well, we better be going now, come along now sweetness!” Galinda threw a not so inconspicuous wink your way, much to the bewilderment and then jealousy of Elphaba, still stood in her nightgown.

“Oh! Uh…Alright! Coming!” You were thrown off balance by the sudden use of a pet name only to come to and scamper after the pink figure fading down the hall. Not before casting one last longing glance at Elphaba. Both of you shared a look before you too disappeared down the hallway.

As Elphaba closed the door shut the sound of a window pane breaking shot through the silence you left her in. A magical manifestation of her jealousy and sadness.

——————————————————————

*Thud*

Galinda, empowered by her regained confidence, pinned you up against the empty classroom door. Both her hand on your waist as she looked down at you with blown out pupils and unsteady breath.

“Oh… y/n, I know this must be a sudden shock but I positively just couldn’t resist anymore!” She rubbed her thumb across you hip where her hand laid as her eyes flickered between you eyes and your lips. You stayed frozen between want for the girl in front of you and want for the girl you had left in her dorm.

“I do wish you feel the same… I haven’t felt like this about anyone… a few flings here and there, yes… but I really care for you… I… feel vulnerable.. around you.” You could see the sincerity in her eyes as Galinda watched for you with baited breath.

“I… I feel the same way, b-“ Galinda cut you off with a hungry kiss, her brain only having registered your words of reciprocated feelings

Your brain suddenly feeling like mush in the midst of Galinda’s onslaught of heavy open mouthed kisses. Your hands wandered up to grasp the back of her head, tangling in her golden curls. You completely forgot what you were even going to say.

The taste of her lip gloss mixing with your own, while Galinda nipped at your bottom lip. Per usual, Galinda got her way, as you opened your mouth for her to explore. Galinda wasted no time.

The two of you parted momentarily. A string of saliva connecting your mouths, both of you panting, before the blonde dove right back in. Simultaneously lifting her leg slightly so her knee was wedged up against your core. You made a noise that was instantly swallowed up by the girl pinning you to the door.

“Is this okay?” She asked, seemingly just now remembering her manners.

“Yes… please don’t stop.” The blonde went back for another kiss before her mouth started traveling along your jawline and then to your neck. Your head turned sideways and up to give her better access. You had lightly started to grind down on her leg that was in between yours.

Galinda had started to hastily mark you, not caring if anyone saw it on you. (Maybe hoping a certain someone would see it). As she worked her way down to your clavicle her hand started to unbutton your shirt. Helping her shed your outer clothes and being left in your bra, she took a moment to admire you.

“You’re beautiful..” She said as she unashamedly raked her eyes up your exposed skin up towards your face. Giving you a gentle kiss this time. Your hands cupping her face, while her hands reached around your back to unclasp your bra, dropping it to the floor.

Hands began to grasp and fervently pull at your breasts as the intensity of the kiss came back once more. All noises being lost to the blonde in front of you.

Some of the fog left your mind as the sounds of someone walking outside the door and down the hall brought you back to reality.

“Wait.. *pant* someone might come in..” A slight look of fear graced your features. Surely you would be expelled for this kind of behavior.

Galinda only smirked in reply. She held you face with one hand, flicking the deadbolt on the door with the other.

“Guess we’ll just have to be quiet then” Pulling you from the door to the mahogany teachers desk in the center of the room.

She hopped up on the desk and slightly leaned back. Patting her thigh while looking at you expectantly, you complied. Climbing up and straddling her thigh you couldn’t help but wish Galinda was a little more exposed, like you were.

Settling down with your clothed core pressed against her thigh, you gave just the slightest of pouts as you reached up and gently tugged at her top while locking eyes with her.

She let out a breath chuckle.

“Oh baby… you want this off?” She watched as you nodded and then guided your hands to unbutton her blouse and revealed her bra underneath.

Your eyes hungrily swept over pink silk that barely concealed hard nipples. Your hot breath fanning down on her now mostly exposed chest. Once again taking the lead, she guided your hands to her back, where you unclasped her bra. Tossing it aside.

“Wow…” was all you managed to get out, making her lightly giggle. You looked at her, and after receiving a small nod, you experimentally ran your hands over her breasts. Thumbs stopping over her nipping and gently rubbing.

She let out a quiet moan which encouraged you to continue. Her noises slowly building up in their frequency. She then took control again by leaning forward and capturing you in a kiss and bringing your hand to her face.

“Let’s get you out of this skirt…” she smiled at you. You stood up, putting on a little show for her, as you removed your skirt, undergarments, and shoes. Giving her a little spin and then climbing back to your original position.

“There we are… now.. take what you need sweetness.” Her words commanded you to start slowly grinding your now unclothed core against her thigh. Her hands went to guide you by your waist, as you held onto her shoulders for support.

“Oh…Oh my..” your breathing picked up as Galinda urged you into a faster pace. Moving her hips back and forth to meet you halfway. Her leg by now being soaked in your arousal.

“Oh.. that’s right sweetheart…keep going..” Galinda praised you as you grinded down harder. Clit dragging across milky white thighs. That feeling of heat starting to build up more and more in your lower area.

Panting now, as your noises started to grow, Galinda connected your mouth to keep the noise to a minimum so no one would hear. Your little whines and moans being muffled by pink lips.

What felt like too soon, you had started to get close. The pink clad girl could tell by the way your hips started stuttering in their pace.

“Come on sweetness… come for me..” Galinda panted, getting worked up just from the sight of you getting off on her thigh.

Her words seemed to help push you over the edge, as you came. A loud whine escaping your lips. Riding out your orgasm for a few seconds before slumping into Galinda. Both your bare breasts pushed against each other. Your head resting on her shoulder, while her fingers rubbed up your back and in your hair and gave tiny little kisses to your neck.

“You did so well… you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to see you like that.” The blonde whispered in your ear, causing good bumps to appear along your nape in her wake.

“I’ve wanted you for a long time as well…” you said while catching your breath.

You stayed in that position of embrace. Waiting for you to recover from your exertion.

After a minute, you started to feel Galinda squirming a bit below you. You sat back so you could look at her.

“Do you want me to..?” You said.

“Please.” She replied.

You slowly peeled yourself away from her and slightly sat back. Hands resting on her thighs, feeling the slick from where you were a minute ago.

You tugged at her last remaining garments, as she helped by maneuvering herself in order to remove her skirt and underwear. Eyes raking over her. Taking in every aspect.

Leaning in and giving her a quick peck on the lips before trailing kisses down her neck. Then to her sternum. Next, her navel. Then finally reaching the place where she needed you most, you glanced up to her eyes once more before shifting your mouth forwards.

She let out a breathy moan as your tongue made contact with her slick. You took a couple of long licks before focusing on her clit. She tasted sweet. Your hands found their places around her upper thighs

Your movements continued to coax airy whines and moans from her. These only spurred you on more. Now deciding to add one finger in the mix, you experimentally poked your right ring finger at her entrance. That elicited a slightly louder moan. Heat pooled in your stomach at that.

You slowly started pumping your one finger in and out of her core while still continuing to lick at her clit. Galinda’s hands were suddenly in your hair, pushing you further into her and groaning.

Deciding to add another finger, you slipped a second one into your rhythm. Stretching her out further. After a particularly loud moan though, you stopped your movements which in turn brought out a whine and a pout from Galdinda.

“Why… *pant* why’d you stop?” She questioned. Not a fan of being teased. You brought your head up to meet her gaze.

“I’m sorry, you were being a bit too loud. Someone might hear us. Here… this should solve the problem.” You took hold of her previously discarded silk bra and brought it up to her face.

“Are you okay with this..? Being.. um… gagged I mean..?” Galinda’s pout was replaced by a smirk and a little laugh at your sudden shyness. She thought it was adorable.

“Of course, now I can be as loud as I want. To show you how you make me feel.” She grinned and took hold of the bra you held out to her. Clamping her teeth around it and leaning back to give you access once more.

You returned to your previous position and activities. Speeding up to get her back to where she was. You heard her muffled noises, much more frequent and high pitched. It was clear she had been holding back a bit before as to not be heard and subsequently caught.

Her hand returned to the back of your head as she grinded her hips against you. Getting closer, her grip tightened and her hips started to fervently rut and buck up into you.

With one last drawn out muffled whine from her, you felt her come on your hand. Feeling her walls flutter around your fingers, you helped her ride it out before pulling away. Crawling up to her once more, you sucked her juices off your fingers before pulling the bra out of her mouth to bring her into an embrace as she had done for you. Letting her rest.

Once she had recovered, she leant back to pull you into another kiss. This one was slow and full of love. Parting to breathe you both only paused for a second before going back in for another.

No words needed. Only the moment.

——————————————————————

A set of four knocks sounded on the intricate door.

“Galinda’s not here!” Elphaba called out to who she assumed was one of her roommate's little henchmen. Galinda had left for the afternoon to meet a secret importer for a new collection of dresses she was sneaking into Shizz.

When the set of knocks continued after Elphaba had called out, she sat up from her study material, and strode over to the door to open it.

“I told you she’s not he-…” Elphaba was greeted with the sight of your face. Holding a small sheepish smile.

“Hi… I was hoping we could talk?” You looked up at her through your lashes with baited breath. Hoping you hadn’t ruined things with her.

“I thought you’d be out with Galinda. Seems you two are never apart these days.” She replied with a displeased look on her face. She was no fool. She knew there was likely something going on between her roommate and you.

It was true though. Galinda had insisted you stayed glued to her side since your “girls day out”. Practically dragging you along on a leash. Not that you minded being around her all the time, but it left you no time to resolve things between you and Elphaba.

“I… I wanted to come and apologize for not speaking to you since… last week.” You guiltily looked away. You had been rather horrible to her for not speaking to her. And sleeping with her roommate who she loathed.

“Go on.” Elphaba crossed her arms. Giving you a blank face.

“Well… I’m ever so sorry for not talking to you. I like you, I really do! It’s just… I also like someone else and if I were to be with you it would hurt them. Though I see that the opposite has happened and I’ve hurt you instead.” You tried to keep your composure while you apologized, but it was clear that your eyes were becoming watery.

“Galinda…” Elphaba stated what was already known. The sound of defeat in her voice. Her posture sulked downward.

Your eyes widened as you took a few steps toward her.

“Oh no! Please you must believe me that I never wished to hurt you! I just-… I want to be with both of you! But I know that’s not possible because you two hate each other and I wish her friends weren’t so cruel to you and it’s all so complicat-!” You were cut off by green lips silencing your rambling.

She pulled back. Tears in her eyes as you looked on with shock on your face.

“Please, I’ve never been one to want anything. I shouldn’t let myself want anything. But I just want you. You hurt me, I can’t forget that, but I can’t stand that she has you. Please just be with me… even if it’s just for this moment…” Her words were heartbreaking. She had endured more than her fair share. Given so much, yet received so little.

“Anything you want…” You gently reached up and caressed her face. Leaning in and connecting your lips and a soft and tender kiss. Tasting salty tears from where they had fallen from her emerald eyes.

Growing more confident, Elphaba brought you both inside the dorm and shut the door with one hand. All while never leaving your mouth.

What started out as slow and emotional had started to become more passionate. Hands sliding up to tangle in hair. Being pulled closer by the waist.

Your hand moving down to tug at her button up.

“Would you let me take care of you?” Your voice barely above a whisper. Waiting for permission.

“I’ve.. I’ve never…because of my greenness… no one’s ever…” Elphaba nervously sputtered out.

“That’s alright… if you want me to, I can lead. All you have to do is let me take care of you. You deserve it Elphie…” You said as you looked into her eyes.

“Okay… please just know… I am green everywhere…” She looked so vulnerable at that moment. Fear of rejection due to her complexion having been hardwired into her brain.

“I don’t care about that, Elphie. I think you’re truly beautiful. All over, inside and out.” You said with a smile of reassurance. And with a small smile and nod in return, you went ahead.

Careful fingers danced their way from one button to the next before pulling the white shirt over her shoulders and down her arms.

She gasped at the foreign sensation of fingers ghosting over her black bra covered nipples. Hands coming to rest on your waist.

“Let’s get you somewhere where you can relax, pretty lady.” You giggled slightly at the evident blushing at your use of a pet name. Guiding her over to her bed. Laying her down on her back with you sitting in between her legs.

“What now?” Elphaba asked, not knowing what to do or what exactly came next.

“Next, I’m going to get you ready. And then I was going to use my hands. Are you okay with that Elphie?” You watched for her response. Making sure to give her plenty of warning and above all ensure her comfort and enjoyment and give her room to say no.

“I trust you…” Her eyes conveyed the same thing she said. Her hand reached for yours to hold.

A small smile graced your features as you leant forwards to kiss her. Hands dragging along exposed collarbones until they reached the bra clasp and undid it. Sliding it off through her arms.

Hands started to gently grope at her bare breasts as your hips slowly pushed forwards into Elphaba’s to add pressure.

“Mmff!” The girl below you’s moan was muffled by your mouth on hers. She held your waist. You started to slowly grind into her. The both of you getting worked up.

Continuing your movements while slightly changing the rhythm now and then. You watched as the girl beneath you slowly relaxed.

When you thought you had made her wet enough, your grinding ceased and you moved over to straddle one of legs to make room around her core.

Breaking apart while one of your hands trailed up underneath the girl's long skirt. You once again made sure.

“Is this okay?” The words felt familiar to your ears..

“Please.” So did hers.

Reaching her undergarments, you felt around to find the seam. Your fingers finally finding purchase around them as you pulled them down and over her legs. Watching the string of arousal that attached to it as you tossed them aside.

“You’re so wet… that’s good.” Looking up to meet her blown out pupils.

You moved so you were laying over top of her while keeping your hand around her core so you could make out with her to ease the tension.

Your middle and ring finger trailed up and down her slit. Collecting the slick and rubbing it around on your fingers.

Next, you gave her clit a gentle rub, eliciting a whine from the ravenette. You continued to rub and then press down with your thumb, while your other fingers circled around her entrance.

Finally, you stuck a single finger into her. Her body reacted by bucking up. You were getting riled up just watching her.

“Nngg, t-that’s, so so good.” Elphaba’s usually reserved nature was coming undone.

You added another finger and sped up the pace. Thrusting them up into her while letting the back of your palm rub her clit.

“Good girl… that’s it.” You praised her. Elphaba’s noises were becoming more frequent. You could tell she was getting closer by the way her walls were gripping your fingers, trying to suck them back in.

Speeding up your movements and then latching onto one of her nipples was enough for the witch to climax.

Her loud moan came with the fluttering of her walls. Suddenly, for just a few seconds, the both of you were floating, before gently landing back down on the mattress. She had unknowingly used her magic.

Her pants slowly subsided. After pulling your hand away and licking it clean, you trailed kisses from her chest to her face, where you peppered light kisses around her mouth.

“You did so well… you’re so beautiful Elphie…” you whispered into her ear. Rubbing her shoulder then going to nuzzle into her neck.

Elphaba, still coming down from her high, wrapped her arms around your back, and planted a kiss on your head.

“Do… would you like.. a turn..?” She slowly said, unsure of her words.

“No, but thank you for offering, sweet girl.” She could feel you smile into her neck.

“I just wanted to show you how much I care for you. You don’t have to give anything. You deserve all the pampering in the world.” Your genuine words brought liquid emotion to the girl with the emerald eyes.

She pulled you closer. No more words needed. Just the moment.

——————————————————————

You were screwed.

In the last few weeks, the two girls you had slept with rivalry had only grown since you had seen both of them. Both of them going out of their way to try and best the other to get closer to you.

They openly loathed each other, no more fake politeness or toleration. Simple unadulterated loathing.

Galinda would sweep you away from Elphaba to sit with her and her friends at lunch. Then Elphaba would retaliate by making sure you sat next to only her during class.

All the back and forth and the complicated feelings was making your head spin.

Currently you were on your way to the two girls' dorm to return study notes Elphaba and graciously lent you.

As you approached the wooden door, knocked, then opened it halfway, you stopped. What were those… noises… you were hearing? They sounded… angry? But also…… oh. Oh.

You pushed the door open the rest of the way and froze.

Galinda and Elphaba. The two girls who swore loathed each other. We’re in bed together. Naked.

Phrases like, “I hate you so much, ohhh!” And “I hate you m-more, she doesn’t *pant* deserve you. Ahh!”.

…

What the fu-

*thud*

Out of shock, you had dropped the heavy notebook you were carrying. Both girls let out a little shriek and sprung apart as though they had burned one another.

“Um… i-I…. Uhhhhh…. Glad you two aren’t fighting anymore……???” You nervously stated. Feeling very awkward at interrupting what was happening between them. Though at the same time ecstatic that they were finally getting along in their own weird way.

“Y/n!” Both of them said at the same time. They glanced at each other and then back to you. Your cheeks flushed and eyes looking anywhere but them. Everything was quiet and still.

….

“Well…. You might as well get over here and help.” Galinda’s unwavering confidence had come back into play as scootched over and patted the empty bed space next to her.

“G-Galinda!” Elphaba stated in shock at her roommates sexual confidence in adding a third.

Both looked at you and waited for a response.

“Uhm…. O.. okay” You replied quietly, still embarrassed.

You closed the door and walked over Galinda’s king sized bed.

You let out a help as Galinda yanked you into bed and into a fiery kiss. Her giggles reverberated through the room. Elphaba laying beside you so she could trail kisses along your neck.

Your head was reeling under the sensual onslaught from the two girls.

This was exactly what you wanted. Your girl problem dilemma was over. They both liked you, you liked them, and now they liked each other. This could really work out.

Your heart's deepest desire was fulfilled .

#wicked #wicked movie #elphaba thropp #galinda upland x reader #gelphie x reader #elphaba thropp x reader #elphaba x reader #galinda x reader #galinda upland #glinda x reader #glinda upland x reader #gelphie

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fatuismooches · 7 months ago

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No other reason for this other than me being self-indulgent and having some fun. Dottore and Fragile Reader of course.

Prime Dottore - About You:

"If you were expecting me to... gush about them and whatnot, then your expectations are nonsensical. I have nothing to share with you about them. I merely have three things to say. Do not get close to them, do not make them upset, and do not get in my way, regardless of what I have to do to make them better."

Omega - About You:

"...[Name]? Their time is far too valuable to be spent around the likes of you. Speaking of, have you seen them? ...You say they're with another segment now? A pity. It's a shame they're always swept away by the others. I could please them far more than anyone else in any matter. I suppose I will need to think of a way to retrieve them yet again."

Alpha (Akademiya) - About You:

"Do you know how many pens and pencils I've broken due to [Name]? Even centuries later they still find the need to debate me on certain topics, academic or not, challenge my research and thinking, and criticize my handwriting. Truly an annoyance. If only they were able to be with me a bit longer... What? They are annoying, but I still acknowledge that they have the traits of a true scholar. And their voice is still much more agreeable than the others I have to work with..."

Beta (Webttore) - About You:

"Hehe, what a loyal assistant they are. They can pick apart different parts and mechanics with ease. Much more competent than that man I disposed of a while ago, on that expedition... along with all the others. Unfortunately, I only have a limited amount of time with them. Really, is it so difficult to find someone with even a third of their ability? Actually, that is a foolish question. No one could ever hope to compare to them."

Delta - About You:

"They have an exceptional talent for pestering me at any given moment, somehow seeking me out wherever I am easily. If only they could put their mind into something more productive. Why do I not simply ignore them? Because they do not stop until they've gotten their desired results, just like me. I'd rather not prolong their prodding.

Zeta - About You:

"... As long as they are well, I need not know anything else. Their health is of utmost priority."

Zandy - About You:

"[Name]? Oh, they're the best, most nicest and fun grown-up ever! I'm never alone now that they're around! They're always willing to play with me and they always yell at the other segments when they're being mean. They're never scared at all... [Name] could probably beat Prime in a fight if they wanted. Hmm? But they can't even throw a punch? That doesn't matter! They're much stronger than you think - I've witnessed it many times."

Pierro - About You:

"When I first recruited Dottore from the desert and gave him his Harbinger position, one of the first things he did was set up a room to monitor [Name]'s condition. He did so for hundreds of years, creating numerous segments to help, and it ended up paying off. It is not my place to pry into his life, as long as he fulfills his duties as the Tsaritsa requests, but now that they're by his side again, he seems... never mind."

Capitano - About You:

"I once encountered them when they managed to sneak out of the lab. They were... intriguing and talkative. They weren't scared in the slightest and were more interested in how I managed to befriend all the creatures near me. They wanted... tips on how to convince the Doctor to let them have a pet. I don't think I was very helpful."

Columbina - About You:

"The Doctor is engrossed with his research, but the only thing he truly has a soft spot for is his dearest [Name]. He hides his feelings exceptionally well, but anyone who witnesses him around them can tell the difference. Don't tell him I said this though, you know how he'll act.~ But do tell [Name] this, they're sure to get flustered. ♪"

Arlecchino - About You:

"They have made attempts to get closer to me, but I'm afraid I have no interest in building a relationship with them. Still, I've always thought that their character would be similar to that of the Doctor, but from what I've seen of them, that does not seem to be the case. So, I do wonder if those two opposites truly get along."

Pulcinella - About You:

"I have seen many things in this long life of mine, so unlike many others, their relationship with Dottore does not surprise me too much. Still, they have much to learn if they feel the need to come and ask me for relationship advice. If you ask me, I believe that they don't truly know how much the Doctor values them, even if it is as clear as day."

Wanderer - About You:

"The Doctor's little pet? Every time I saw them, they were always scurrying behind one of the segments, as if they were attached by the hip. I don't know what transpired between the two of them for this relationship to happen, but out of all the people who associate with Dottore, they're bound to meet the nastiest end."

Sandrone - About You:

"The Doctor? [Name]? I have no care for either of them. I am much too busy with my own work to think about his worthless love life. However, I do suppose the idea is entertaining - Dottore being capable of love is as laughable as thinking an Automaton can learn to cherish another, and this [Name] person is equally as idiotic for believing so."

La Signora - About You:

"[Name], you say? I can't claim to know much about them. Everything I've heard is through the mouths of others, mostly from agents who talk more than what's good for them, but especially the Balladeer. What are they really like - a harmless and fragile sweetheart? A tool for the Doctor? His equally as heartless accomplice? Or all of the above? All I can say, however, is that it takes one to know one, right?"

Pantalone - About You:

"Ah, the little one. I am more than familiar with them, although Dottore would loathe to hear that. Did you know the Doctor is more prone to jealousy than you think? It is most amusing to see his ever-confident smirk fall once you get a bit too close to [Name]. I vividly remember the time when I said I would accompany [Name] to a ball instead, as he was too busy with his research. He never changed his mind as quickly as he did once I promised to dance with them."

Childe - About You:

“I’ve always thought Dottore was eccentric, and after meeting [Name], I can say they are equally as weird as him, solely for choosing him as their husband. Their personality is nothing like his either - they are bubbly, affectionate, and most of all… extremely weak. Traits that Dottore has no interest in. And yet the segments seem to fawn over them… I just don’t understand them. I just hope they know what they’re getting into.”

Furina - About You:

"Whenever I see them, [Name] always make sure to arrange a tea party with their own homemade Sumerian sweets! It is truly a delight. I admit, I am a bit jealous of their skill. It's as if they have the experience of a hundred years! But of course, that's impossible. Regardless, they are very kind, and they also seem to have a particular liking for romantic films... an odd thing for someone affiliated with the Fatui to like."

Nahida - About You:

"A raven and a sparrow - two beings that are surely bound to be apart from each other, but when it comes to the Doctor and [Name], it seems that even the impossible becomes possible. Though my feelings toward them will not change because of what they've done, I can't help but be interested. What lengths will the Outcast go to cure the one he holds dear, and would [Name] still be able to love him if he becomes more of a monster?"

#smooches talks #dottore love notes <3 #fragile reader <3 #zandy bb <3 #playable reader <3 #dottore x reader #btw... PUSHING MY READER AND FURINA BESTIE AGENDA!!#sometimes u just have to write what u want in order to gain ur spark back... i love voicelines sm...#bye i have sm tags #I LOVE DOTTORE SM...#divider by cafekitsune

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novaursa · 4 months ago

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Web of Gold (aegon in love)

- Summary: Alicent could only watch as you handle her son like a lioness who plays with her food.

- Pairing: lannister!reader/Aegon II Targaryen

- Rating: Mild 13+

- Previous part: 1

- Next part: aegon has a cold

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround

Alicent Hightower stands at the entrance of your solar, her brow furrowed, a determined gleam in her eyes. You can see her reflection in the mirror before you as you sit, surrounded by your ladies-in-waiting, a soft murmur of conversation filling the room. They are laughing at something you said, oblivious to the instant change that thickens as Alicent steps further inside.

The room quiets. Your ladies glance nervously at each other, sensing the charged air, but you remain poised, turning your head only slightly, as though the Queen Mother's arrival is of little concern.

"Your Grace," you greet her warmly, but there’s an undercurrent of something sharper beneath your voice. "How lovely of you to visit." You flash a charming smile, but the glint in your eyes betrays your amusement. Alicent’s sudden need to speak with you is, of course, no coincidence.

"Leave us," Alicent says to your ladies, her tone stern but not harsh. They all rise quickly, dropping curtsies before scampering out of the room, not wishing to be caught in whatever this confrontation might become.

You rise slowly, smoothing your gown, a rich crimson with golden embroidery that glistens in the candlelight, making you look every bit the queen you aspire to be. "To what do I owe this pleasure, Your Grace?" you ask, maintaining your sweet tone, though the question drips with false innocence.

Alicent steps closer, her lips pressed thin. She’s trying to appear calm, but you can sense the desperation simmering beneath her composure. "I wanted to speak with you," she begins, her voice softer than it was with your ladies, the sort of voice she uses when trying to remind others of her maternal presence. "About Aegon."

"Of course," you reply, as if it’s the most natural topic in the world. "I was just speaking of him with my ladies. His strength and wisdom are unparalleled, don’t you think?" You watch the flicker of annoyance cross her face, savoring the way her attempt to steer the conversation in her favor is already faltering.

Alicent shifts, clasping her hands in front of her, trying to appear serene. "Y/N, I understand that Aegon values your… opinions. And I do not wish to interfere. But…" She hesitates, searching for the right words, something that will make you listen to her. "He is still young, and he needs guidance. Proper guidance. From those who truly have his best interests at heart."

You raise an eyebrow, the smile never leaving your lips. "Proper guidance?" you echo, as though you are truly considering the meaning of her words. "But who could possibly care more for Aegon’s best interests than his own wife-to-be?" Your voice is light, playful, but the implication is clear. I am the one at his side now. Not you.

Alicent’s mouth tightens. "As his mother, I’ve always sought what is best for him. I’ve been by his side since he was born. I raised him. No one knows Aegon as I do."

You tilt your head slightly, stepping closer so that your presence looms just a bit. "Oh, I don’t doubt that, Your Grace. You have been a wonderful mother to him, no one would dare dispute that." You pause, letting the praise sink in, then adding with a soft, calculated edge, "But he’s no longer a boy, is he? Aegon is a king now, and kings must make their own decisions, form their own judgments." You take a step back, shrugging slightly. "It’s what all rulers must do."

Alicent stiffens, the tension rolling off her in waves. You see her jaw clench as she speaks, trying to keep her voice steady. "And what decisions has he made under your… influence?"

You laugh lightly, almost as though she’s told a joke. "Influence? Your Grace, I only seek to support Aegon. To give him the love and devotion he so richly deserves." You look at her knowingly, your eyes flicking up to meet hers. "A man like Aegon needs to feel appreciated, cherished for all he does."

Alicent's expression tightens further, but you can see the cracks forming. She knows what you're doing, yet she can’t stop you. "Y/N, you must understand, this is not about appreciation. This is about responsibility. You cannot simply—"

You cut her off with a gentle smile, stepping toward her with the grace of a predator that knows its prey is cornered. "Alicent," you say softly, dropping the formalities. "You needn't worry. I’m not here to replace you. You’ll always be his mother." The way you say it feels like a reassurance that holds no real comfort. "But I think we both know Aegon is happiest when he is free to act without feeling… pressured." Your eyes flicker with amusement. "And he seems so at ease with me, wouldn't you agree?"

Alicent looks like she’s about to snap, her eyes burning with frustration, but she holds herself back, her voice now low, tight with warning. "You don’t understand what it means to be close to power like this. It is not about flattery and affection. It is about duty, about making the hard decisions, even when they are painful."

You place a hand on your chest, pretending to be wounded. "Oh, Alicent, I understand more than you think. It’s just that I approach things… differently." You let your hand fall, turning toward the window to look out over the courtyard, where Aegon can be seen laughing with a group of knights. "Aegon deserves to be happy, doesn’t he? And I make him happy." You glance back at her, your smile serene. "Isn’t that what matters?"

For a moment, Alicent just stares at you, her hands clenched so tightly you think her knuckles might turn white. But she says nothing. She can’t. Because as much as she might want to fight you on this, she knows you’re right in one regard—Aegon is happy with you. And that happiness is what keeps her from lashing out, from saying what she truly wants to say.

Finally, Alicent exhales sharply, turning on her heel. "Enjoy your day," she says stiffly before sweeping from the room, the door closing behind her with a soft thud.

The moment she’s gone, you let out a small, satisfied sigh, turning back to the mirror. Your reflection smiles back at you, victorious. Alicent may have been the one to raise Aegon, but now? Now he is yours.

The courtyard of the Red Keep bustles with life, knights sparring and squires scurrying about, tending to their duties. Aegon stands in the middle of it all, his silver hair catching the sunlight as he watches the knights with a bemused grin, half-interested, half-distracted. A goblet of wine is clutched lazily in one hand, because of course he’s found a way to turn a casual morning stroll into an excuse for drinking.

"Did you see that, Ser Criston?" Aegon calls out, watching as two knights clash swords with a loud clang. "Not bad, but no match for me." He laughs, though he’s never been particularly interested in actual swordplay. He much prefers the idea of being a great fighter, especially when the wine is flowing.

Ser Criston Cole offers a tight-lipped smile, as he always does when Aegon starts boasting about things everyone knows aren’t true. "Indeed, Your Grace," he says, ever the dutiful Kingsguard, though even his patience is wearing thin.

Aegon takes another sip of wine, glancing toward the entrance to the courtyard just in time to see his younger brother, Aemond, striding purposefully toward him. Aemond, with his ever-straight posture and single piercing eye, always looks like he’s about to declare war on someone. Today is no different. He approaches with his usual air of superiority, his long coat billowing behind him as though he’s a dark storm about to sweep through.

"Aemond!" Aegon calls out cheerfully, raising his goblet in greeting. "You’ve arrived just in time. I was telling the knights here about how truly lucky I am." He lowers his voice conspiratorially, a grin spreading across his face. "To have Y/N as my future wife."

Aemond’s expression doesn’t change. He stops in front of Aegon, his eye narrowing slightly as if he’s trying to determine how much wine his brother has already consumed this morning. "Lucky, you say?" His tone is dry, unimpressed.

Aegon chuckles, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Aemond isn’t remotely interested in this conversation. "Oh, absolutely. She’s the most beautiful woman in the realm, wouldn’t you agree?" He claps a hand on Aemond’s shoulder, completely missing the way his younger brother stiffens. "And clever too. The way she speaks to me—like no one else ever has. It’s like she knows me better than I know myself." He sighs, lost in the fantasy of it all. "Aegon the Conqueror himself would be jealous, I swear."

Aemond blinks slowly, as if processing the absurdity of what he’s just heard. "Yes, I’m sure the original Aegon would be incredibly envious of your arrangement," he replies, his voice laced with sarcasm. His gaze flickers toward Ser Criston, who wisely keeps his face neutral, though one can see the amusement dancing in his eyes.

But Aegon is far too enamored to notice any of it. "Oh, Aemond, you just don’t understand. Y/N… she’s perfect. Beautiful, charming, sweet… and she’s so attentive to me." He leans in closer, his voice dropping to a dramatic whisper. "She calls me her king. All the time. Every morning, every night… my king." His eyes sparkle with pride as if this is the pinnacle of all achievements.

Aemond’s eye twitches, just the tiniest bit, though his expression remains otherwise unreadable. "I’m sure she does," he mutters, clearly unimpressed by the idea of his brother being doted upon like some pampered pet. "How fortunate for you."

Aegon nods enthusiastically, taking another sip of wine, his cheeks flushed with both alcohol and excitement. "It’s like she worships me," he says, completely missing the biting edge to Aemond’s tone. "I swear, no woman has ever made me feel this way before. I can’t wait for the wedding. She’ll be my queen soon enough."

Aemond crosses his arms, clearly struggling to maintain his composure. "Your queen," he repeats flatly, though the way he says it makes it sound more like a burden than a blessing. "And what exactly will she bring to this… royal arrangement of yours? Other than your own inflated ego?"

Aegon, completely unbothered by the jab, shrugs. "Love, devotion, all that. She just gets me, you know? It’s as if she was made for me. And gods, the way she speaks to me… she’s so… warm." He sighs contentedly, swirling the wine in his goblet. "Unlike some other women around here." He glances sideways, clearly referencing their mother, though he’s too drunk to bother hiding it.

Aemond’s lips thin into a line. "She manipulates you, brother," he says sharply, his patience wearing thin. "Or are you too blind to see that?"

Aegon blinks at him, confused, then bursts into laughter. "Manipulates me? Nonsense! She adores me. Why would she ever want to manipulate me when she can just… you know… bask in my presence?" He gestures to himself with a flourish, as if he’s presenting a grand prize.

Aemond pinches the bridge of his nose, visibly frustrated. "You are hopeless," he mutters under his breath.

But Aegon, ever oblivious, just grins at him. "Hopelessly in love, more like." He sways slightly, his eyes glazed over with more than just affection. "Ah, Y/N… my beautiful lioness…"

Aemond looks at him with something resembling pity, then shakes his head, clearly done with this conversation. "Just… try not to embarrass yourself at court later," he says before turning on his heel and walking away, the stiff set of his shoulders making it clear he’s already resigned to Aegon doing exactly that.

Aegon watches him go, then glances at Ser Criston, still grinning like a lovesick fool. "He’s just jealous, isn’t he?" he says, winking. "Who wouldn’t be, with a woman like mine?"

Ser Criston gives him a measured nod, his expression betraying nothing. "Of course, Your Grace."

And with that, Aegon takes another swig of wine, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

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threeacttragedy · 1 month ago

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Entry 16: The One About That Time I Shot an Arrow into the Air

“…It fell to earth, I knew not where; for so swiftly it flew, the sight; could not follow it in its flight.”

Archery has always been one of my fortes in life. I have absolutely no idea why, but I’m strangely quite good at it. My father, of course, attributes it to my ancestors; something passed down to me in my genes. So, I’m not sure that any arrow I shot into the air wouldn’t naturally find itself in the direction of its intended target. Today, that target would almost certainly be in the jugular of a Cerberus-like creature. Ah, yes, that mythical hellhound with three heads that guards the entrance to the Underworld. Not only does it dictate who can enter the realm of Hades, but also who can leave. And I’m not fond of creatures that would rather devour you alive than let you leave of your own freewill. Plus, could you imagine having three heads with three different personalities? Ugh, that would get confusing quickly. And, even worse, could you imagine all the in-fighting? I mean, an arrow to the throat – if it didn’t dismantle the beast – would almost certainly silence it. Luckily, we don’t have any three-headed dogs in this fandom…

Where am I going with this? Well – besides down a long and winding path that draws attention to the fact I enjoy poetry and archery – actually, I chose today’s poem for a specific purpose. If you haven’t figured it out from my previous cracks about the Kraken, I also like Greek mythology. In fact, learning about Greek mythology at around the age of 11 – yes, that defiant age where we’re no longer interested in Barbie (not that I was ever interested in Barbie) but we’re also not cool enough to be considered teenagers – was the first time I remember finding myself “thinking outside of the box.” And by that, I mean asking the question that I probably should not have said out loud: “If Zeus is a myth, does that mean God is fake, too?” That went down like a lead balloon (and, I hope, no one takes offense to reading that now; it is not meant with any disrespect). My mother was, of course, telephoned by the school and, when I returned home, she greeted me with (something along the lines of) a simple: “Did they answer your question? No? Then I suggest you find it for yourself.”

We all have our own truth, don’t we? Even in this fandom, we are each tasked with choosing our own path. Weeding out facts from speculation and speculation from rumor. Choosing what we want to believe over what is being pushed on us. Overcoming our willingness to follow blindly versus our refusal to be backed into corner. I suppose that’s why I’ve always liked Greek mythology (and, perhaps, storytelling in general) – because it helps us navigate life’s challenges by better understanding human nature. It’s also one of the reasons why my favorite story has always been the trials and tribulations of Eros and Psyche.

Ah-ha! See, I told you I had a purpose for bringing up those damn arrows!

Yes, Eros was the Greek equivalent of the Roman Cupid; that weird little dude who fired love arrows like a bouquet of flowers at a wedding. But Eros wasn’t some creepy little cherub in a cloth diaper; he was the devastatingly handsome God of Love. And he fell in love with the equally beautiful human Psyche. That part about her being human, however,managed to get Psyche some major side-eye from Eros’s mother, Aphrodite. In retaliation for humans worshiping Psyche’s beauty over her own, Aphrodite sent Eros down to earth to pierce Psyche with one of his love arrows so she would fall madly in love with a hideous monster (unfortunately for the Cerberus, it wasn’t them). But Eros defied his mother and, unbeknownst to Aphrodite, kept Psyche for himself hidden away in a castle. There, Psyche lived – mostly happily – with Eros visiting her every night. Eros promised Psyche she could live there indefinitely so long as she never looked upon his face (hence why he only visited her in darkness). But humans have this uncanny knack for being curious and, of course, Psyche peeked. Well, fuck! Haha, I won’t ruin the rest of the story for you except to say, yes, Eros was royally peeved at Psyche’s betrayal, fled their home, and sought refuge with his bitchy mother (because, of course, he did). Devastated, Psyche went clambering up to her pseudo-mother-in-law’s shrine to beg for forgiveness and Aphrodite, being a bit of a bitchy goddess, gave Psyche a series of impossible tasks to complete to prove her worthiness. Amazingly Psyche did in fact complete each of these four tasks but only because she managed to get a little help from some fantastical friends. Well, except for that final task for which Psyche was warned – don’t look in the fucking box. Damn humans.

Like all stories passed down from generation to generation, there are multiple versions of this myth, particularly when it comes to who helped Psyche complete her four tasks. Sometimes it’s one god(dess), other times it’s multiple; sometimes it’s earth’s creatures (the ants, the plants, and the flying things). But my favorite version is the one where Eros was the one pulling those invisible strings – or, at the very least, keeping an eye on Psyche from the shadows – because no matter how angry he was with her, Eros still loved Psyche and wanted to protect her.

Why do I bring this story up? Well, for starters, if you didn’t notice (because you were too focused on carriages and mirrors), Bridgerton Season 3 made quite a few parallels between Colin and Penelope and Eros and Psyche, even referring to the latter by name at the end of the fourth episode. The show also brushed on the importance of trust, the consequences of betrayal, and the idea that love can conquer all. Funny thing is I never thought Colin to be much of an Eros; he made a better Psyche, in my opinion. I mean, he was the one to peek into Penelope’s secret life!

But Colin’s real-life counterpart, Luke, makes a rather entertaining Eros.

On December 16, when Luke reposted to his Instagram stories a link to Nicola’s “Part 1” of her 2024 Year, the fandom went wild. And I’m not talking about just the Lukolas going insane with excitement; the Jakolas were having a field day, too – but not in a good way. The unease they’d almost certainly felt with those coordinated airplane and “Polin” posts from October returned with a vengeance when Luke resurfaced in support of Nicola – the woman for whom he consistently comes out hiding. I realized then that the one person who could simultaneously make the Lukolas’ hearts flutter and the Adjacents’ blood boil was Luke (i.e., our Eros could make Psyche rejoice while making Aphrodite lash out in anger).

If you really think about it, Luke has pulled us out of the black waters of the River Styx multiple times, making him the perfect Eros to our Psyche. Yes, our Psyche. The fandom is absolutely the Psyche of this story. After all, the fandom was the one who betrayed Luke with our collective reaction to Papsmear (but, in the fandom’s defense, that was a shitty fucking day). And, of course, that wench Aphrodite is collectively all the side story bullshit, from the Adjacent narratives to rag-mags sticking their ever-growing noses into places they don't belong.

As we finish out the year, I thought it would be fun to give Luke some credit where credit is due. In other words, I thought I’d highlight four times Luke “Eros-ed” (i.e., “rescued”) us from some mucky ass shit. This is not every moment Luke came out of hiding to do something wonderful; these are simply my top four moments where I believe Luke single-handedly resuscitated the fandom. You’re welcome to share your best Luke moments in the comments.

No. 1 - That Post-Papsmear Thing That Everyone Ignored:

Fuck, yes.

I am starting with the most overlooked event in the Lukola-verse – Luke’s post-Papsmear Cressida story. This is the taproot that keeps my faith in Lukola from falling over during a storm – Luke taking one for Team Lukola by promoting Season 3 using the scene from Ep. 6 where Cressida entered the Mondrich Ball and Colin pulled Penelope aside and told her he wouldn’t let Cressida ruin their evening. Yeah, yeah, Luke totally missed the target with that post but – again, in the fandom’s defense – everyone was still reeling from the sudden-but-not-so-sudden materialization of Antonia at the London premiere. In hindsight, though, you know you want to give him an “atta boy” for basically throwing shade at the Lutonia narrative while using a massive social media platform to do so. It was jaw-dropping, brilliant, and ballsy as fuck.

If you’re totally lost about how entertaining this Cressida story was, go read Entry 1 to be my blog. But, seriously, how have you not read it already?

No. 2 – Delivering the Cake:

Alright, fast forward three months (yes, three goddamn months!) to September 7 when Luke posted pictures from his stay at the Puente Romano resort.

No big deal, right?

Wrong!

It was a big fucking deal because, for starters, Antonia creeped in and posted random pictures of herself at roughly the same time Luke posted his resort pictures. And, of course, Luke had to like Antonia’s Instagram post. To make matters worse (gasp!) Luke’s had palm trees in his pictures which were oh, so reminiscent (but, not really) of palm trees posted by Antonia the previous day to her Instagram stories. Oh my God! And, then the real kicker? Luke’s slide deck included him eating a picture of himself from the London premiere sans Nicola! The horror! I mean, what probably started out as a cute post by Luke turned into a full-on Lukola heart attack within 30 minutes or less!

But then Luke pulled out a defibrillator and revived the fandom. Almost immediately.

After presumably hearing the cries from the Lukola fandom that he’d cut Nicola from the London premiere image, Luke demonstrated through his Instagram stories that (a) he was eating part of a cake (he was even darling enough to put the cake emoji with a smiley face), and (b) that the cake never had Nicola’s image on it to begin with (meaning, he didn’t remove her from it). Thank you for that clarification, Luke. Seriously, the fandom appreciated it.

After they recovered from their near-death experience, the Lukolas finally took the time to look at the images Luke posted. A not-so-random chaise lounge; a random white shirt; a restaurant called El Pimpi (which is a word used for the people who delivered messages to a ship’s crew and passengers); Luke throwing up the peace sign with his now infamous digits in – what appeared to be – the reflection of a glass table; and a reference to cake. It was Lukola- and/or Polin-coded shit. And, to make it just a smidge better, there was no visible reference to Antonia anywhere.

And, yes, I will cut in here to acknowledge that Antonia would, on October 25, include a lone picture of a balcony which was identical to the one Luke posted in his – what I like to call – “clarification stories” from September 7. Do I care about Antonia’s balcony? Not in the least. Could she have been at the resort? Sure. In fact, I’ve always found the idea of Antonia being present quite comical since Luke made it fairly obvious he omitted something (ahem, someone) from his Instagram post and instead filled it with random shit that seemed Lukola- and/or Polin-coded. Plus, if you want me to be perfectly honest, “insinuation” posts from Antonia stopped doing it for me months ago.

Back to what I saying… We must give Luke a round of applause for placating an entire fandom with something as simple as a cake emoji. Bravo, bravo!

No. 3 – Shutting Down the Mean Girls:

We closed out September with Antonia riling up the fandom by posting Instagram story after Instagram story, none of which were worth a second glance from a Lukola except for the “phone screen” one (see “Entry 7: The One Where the Queen Asked, ‘Did That Go the Way You Thought It Was Gonna Go?’” for reference). Oh, wait, there is another story – just for my own amusement – on October 1, Antonia reshared a story where she was labeled “Aphroditi.” Rather convenient for my story today, isn't it? Any ways, the Lukolas were a bit high-strung by October 2 when Nicola announced via Instagram that she had been named as part of the Time 100. Luke liked the post – but apparently to the haters on X he didn’t do it motherfucking fast enough. These weird-ass people do actually exist – the ones that genuinely believe Instagram likes (and the speed thereof) equate to true love.

Any ways, Luke apparently decided he was having none of that bullshit and stepped in on October 3 with his Polin-themed “Mean Girls” story. It was a throwback to a conversation he and Nicola had had in, I believe, 2022 on, haha, X.

“On October 3rd, he asked me what day it was.”

“It’s October 3rd.”

Luke captioned the story, “Xx.”

Not only did the fandom rejoice that Luke had returned to post something after nearly a month away, but the post included a throwback to Nicola, and it came on the heels of Halley Brisker’s now legendary “Nicola lately” post. Yeah, the one with Luke in the background (seriously, convince me it was someone else). Luke’s story also seemed to be one hell of a clapback to a rabid pack animal on X who faulted Luke for not leaving a comment on Nicola’s Time 100 post.

“Xx.”

No. 4 – The Littlest Things:

I debated over choosing Luke’s People magazine interview for the fourth moment, but that interview – although it made the fandom incredibly happy – didn’t pull our heads out of our own asses. So, I decided instead to go with the little things Luke has done over the past few months, namely, joining in on the Like Wars but in his own oh, so subtle way.

Let’s start with Antonia’s September 21 post of – honestly, who the hell cares? She posted and we knew Luke’s obligatory like was coming. It just took 10 ½ hours for Luke to get to it and it was only given after Nicola posted to her Instagram stories pictures from a concert she had attended. Was the fandom a bit deflated Luke liked Antonia’s post? Of course! But it was also fun to see the like come hours after Luke had already been online and on the heels of Nicola popping up online.

On October 11, we had a similar event happen. Antonia posted to her grid and Luke seemingly ignored it for roughly five hours. But, while Luke was ignoring her post, Antonia was going hard at it with Instagram stories and TikTok videos (Nicola, for her part, seemed to be playing her own game on social media during this time). Luke finally liked Antonia’s post and Antonia went silent thereafter. Then, on October 12, Luke officially made it back from his October 4 “Brb” moment and posted “Somewhere in Mayfair” to his Instagram stories. Let the fandom rejoice!

But I’m not stopping there. Let’s not forget about Luke and Nicola’s coordinated “Polin” pictures on October 21 or that, while Antonia was “rolling pasta” on November 17, Luke made it a point to go back and like Nicola’s Dr. Who post from November 15. On December 6, when Luke coughed up a like to Antonia’s grid post, he also handed a like out to Nicola at the same time (and a few others). Do you see a pattern starting to form?

Honestly, I believe Luke is owed a standing ovation for the way he has taken control of his own narrative and managed to deflect from the so-called “importance” of these bullshit Instagram likes. Although Nicola has historically attempted to distract the fandom from Antonia, in my opinion, it was always Luke’s responsibility to diminish the importance of Antonia’s role in his story. And, for the past several months, he has been doing just that – in the quietest way possible.

I’ve decided Luke is a bit like a shadow. Inconspicuous – sometimes even completely invisible – but when the light hits just right, it’s impossible to ignore his immense presence.

When Luke posts, or when he coyly plays around with the Instagram likes – even when he likes Nicola’s posts – it somehow resonates differently with the fandom. Nicola could post her year-end stuff and the fandom would be, like, “Oh, that’s cool.” But, when Luke reshares her post to his stories? “Holy fuck, that’s awesome!” It's a "different energy on set." Somewhere in the middle of all the bullshit that goes on within the fandom, Luke found his own truth. The “Bad Guy” who was “on a break” during Hot Boy Summer somehow became our hero; the shadowy figure that pulls us out of the water and sets our heads back on straight. Over and over again. It's been so subtle, we've barely even noticed.

I’m going to end this entry with the Longfellow poem I quoted at the beginning, mainly because I like it, but also because it’s about something that cannot be easily seen once released into the world but, if found, can have an everlasting effect on us.

“I shot an arrow into the air; it fell to earth, I knew not where; for so swiftly it flew, the sight; could not follow it in its flight;

“I breathed a song into the air; it fell to earth, I knew not where; for who has sight so keen and strong; that it can follow the flight of song?

“Long, long afterward, in an oak; I found the arrow, still unbroke; and the song, from beginning to end; I found again in the heart of a friend.”

P.S. In the story, Psyche is rescued by Eros (hurray!) and is made the Goddess of the Soul.

#lukola #luke newton #nicola coughlan #my thoughts #my opinion #speculation only

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illyrianhaze · 8 months ago

Text

shadowed hearts azriel x reader

✧ how azriel’s shadows led him right to you.

✧ wc: 1.1k

When you and Azriel met, you were standing outside the flower shop you owned in the heart of Velaris, painting a patch of sunflowers below the windows

You saw his shadows before you saw him, the wispy black tendrils pooling around your feet before climbing up your legs and swirling around your body

You watched them with fascination for a moment before you heard Azriel’s voice for the first time from behind you

“I apologize for their behavior. They don’t normally act this way around strangers.”

Or at all, he thought to himself, but all thoughts left his head as he was met with the face of the most beautiful female he had ever seen

You laughed, turning and replying easily to him, “It’s no worry. They’re sweet.”

As you spoke, the shadows lifted to your face and caressed your cheek while tangling themselves in your hair, pleased with the sound of your voice

This was much to the embarrassment and horror of poor Azriel, who was desperately trying to call his rogue shadows back to him

“I’m very sorry,” he apologized again. “They usually listen to me,” He said with a slight annoyance creeping into his voice as he kept trying and failing to pull his shadows away from you

You laughed again, hoping to ease his worries. “Really, it’s no trouble, Azriel.”

He raised his eyebrows in surprise that you knew his name, which made you laugh again at the beautiful male in front of you

His shadows, on the other hand, started dancing around you happily, pleased at the sound of azriel's name on your lips

“You know who I am?” Azriel felt a wave of nerves hit him at this discovery, worried that his intimidating and sometimes violent reputation that often preceded him would be enough to scare you away

“Of course I know who you are. You’re pretty famous around here, you know. The feared spymaster of the Night Court, famed protector of the High Lord and Velaris.”

You were teasing him and he knew it, but still Azriel felt himself blush at your praise

Feeling warm at the reaction you were getting from him, and deciding you definitely couldn’t let this rare opportunity to get to know the shadowsinger pass you by, you decided to take a leap of faith with your next words

“Honestly, I feel honored that your illustrious shadows find me so interesting. I must be someone worth getting to know.”

You said the last bit with a sweet smile, hoping they’d make their desired effect

Judging by the blush on his cheeks you guessed that they did

Expecting more silence, you opened your mouth to speak again but stopped as Azriel exhibited a sudden burst of confidence

“They’re a good judge of character. If they think you’re worth getting to know, then I may just have to listen to them.”

You felt his smirk deep in your chest, his incredibly attractive face threatening to knock you off your feet, an attraction that you had never felt before seeping into your bones the longer you looked at him

“How would they feel about you taking me out to dinner this weekend?”

You had never been so bold in your life, but there was something about the male in front of you that made you want to open yourself up for him entirely

A few shadows finally darted back towards Azriel, whispering in his ear telling him to respond positively to your question

Ignoring the shock at his shadows telling him what to do, he thought of the best way to respond for a moment before he spoke

His face remained stoic for a moment long enough that you worried you had crossed a line, but before you could start to backtrack and apologize for overstepping, an amused smile snuck onto his face

“I believe they would feel honored.”

Both of your smiles were contagious at this point, and the shadows in question were dancing excitedly between the two of you as they were being talked about, knowing they really were being the best damn wingmen in Prythian at the moment

“I’ll be away for a few days, official and scary Night Court protector business.”

You laughed at his teasing, and Azriel was quickly realizing he was going to really miss your smile when he wasn't around you

“I’ll be back Saturday. I can come by and pick you up at six. Does that work?”

You nodded and tried to focus on your breathing as his deep voice was starting to make you feel dizzy

“Then I guess my shadows and I will see you soon, sunflower.”

You smiled but furrowed your brows at the name before remembering what you were doing before he arrived, turning around to see the small yellow sunflowers you had painted below the front window of your shop

You turned back around to reply only to find that the shadowsinger was gone, leaving you feeling lightheaded and wondering if you had dreamed the whole encounter

You went back inside your shop, continuing with your day trying not to think about Azriel and the fact that you actually had a date with the shadowsinger

As you opened the door of your shop at the end of the day to change the sign on it from open to closed, a lone black shadow flew in with a small piece of paper and a single sunflower

You took both, thanking the shadow before it twirled once around your neck and perched upon your shoulder, waiting for you to read the note (that was written in impeccable handwriting, you noticed)

Counting down the days until I can see that smile again. See you soon, beautiful.

You smiled, feeling a rush of warmth spread through you as you read Azriel's words. Turning your head to the shadow at your shoulder, which was patiently waiting for your response before it would return to Azriel with its report, you couldn't shake off the excitement building inside you

“Tell him I’m looking forward to it.”

You watched as the shadow seemed to nod before sliding quickly past your cheek and racing off into the chilly Velaris night

Clutching the note and the single sunflower to your chest, you made your way towards the stairs leading to your apartment above the shop as a gentle smile graced your face

As you headed towards your bedroom and settled into bed, you realized with a chuckle that amidst the excitement of flirting with Azriel you had forgotten to give him your name

Deciding to fully embrace the anticipation of all you had to learn about each other, you closed your eyes and slipped into dreams painted with visions of Azriel and whispers of his shadows.

a/n: I have so many ideas for these two!! let me know if you’d like to see more of them :)

#azriel #azriel x reader #azriel spymaster #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel fanfiction #azriel acotar #acotar #acotar fanfiction #azriel fluff #azriel x reader fluff

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neil-gaiman · 2 years ago

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hey mr gaiman. i saw that this post got revisited and wanted to address it.

i submitted this ask over a year ago on my old account and it was one of the stupidest things i ever did. it was my first tumblr account. id only been really online for a few weeks. i was 13. i was just coming back to school after a global pandemic.

ive been a fan of good omens for years and a fan of yours for longer. i was brought up reading odd and the frost giants and fortunately the milk, and as i got older i fell in love with your norse mythology book, good omens, snow glass apples, the sleeper and the spindle, and more.

i was excited to see one of my favorite authors on tumblr and tried to come up with the most bold and interesting ask i could think of.

i was rude and misinformed and it was a stupid choice of me to send it in with no thought.

but i got feedback. some in the form of kind suggestions. quite a few in the form of death threats and people telling me to kill myself.

while those specific messages were rude and hateful, the point got across. i educated myself to the best of my abilities, and eventually came back online.

not only did i misuse the term queerbaiting but i also implied that you were not an amazing supporter of the queer community. that’s absolutely incorrect. you’ve done so much for us with activism, representation, and overall kindness.

i wanted to address this ask that got so much attention because despite moving accounts i still feel guilt and shame every time i see it, or even when i interact with any of your posts at all. i need to actually address it.

also, i wanted a proper apology to be made. by no means am i now a saint. but im trying to be more thoughtful about thinking before i speak.

whether or not you decide to make a public response to this, i think ill find some peace knowing you’ve received this. ive needed closure on this for a long time.

im overjoyed and thrilled that season two is so close. thank you for tolerating the dumb questions of pretentious kids and thank you for helping to create a world where we can grow to be better than we were.

First of all, and most importantly, I'm really sorry that people were mean to you. That's awful. And nobody should ever have to deal with death threats or online threats and attacks, let alone a thirteen year old.

And secondly, you do not owe me an apology. I figure I have a Tumblr account, people ask things. Mostly they'll get nice replies, occasionally (normally when I'm being asked the same thing over and over) the replies will be terser. There has to be a certain amount of rough and tumble though, and occasionally I'll grab an ask that represents all of the asks I've had on that subject, and try and reply to all of them. That's what happened to you. I was getting tired of being accused of Queerbaiting for the occasional answer about a Season that was not yet released and about which nobody knew anything. And I needed to tell everyone who was doing this that they had to stop now. You had the misfortune to be the representative of all of the other people.

If you are not making mistakes you are not human and you are not learning anything.

(I wish there was tone of voice on the internet.)

And I think you are growing and learning and will make a fantastic adult.

I really hope you enjoy Season 2 when it drops.

#And I hope as many people are nice and supportive about this post #as were mean about that first one

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vivalarevolution · 7 months ago

Text

𝓤𝓷𝓼𝓹𝓸𝓴𝓮𝓷 𝓕𝓮𝓮𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼

Jacaerys Velaryon x Orphan Reader

Request: „Jacaerys , who grew up together with the Reader - whom Rhaenyra adopted and raised. Over time, their friendship changed, but since they never had the courage to admit their feelings, they gradually began to distance themselves from each other. When Jacaerys is promised to Baela, their relationship is no longer the same. They both blame each other for what happened and continue to minimize their interactions until their father promises her hand in marriage to someone else.‟

A/N: Request written by anon. A very interesting concept that I thoroughly enjoyed writing.

Please remember that english is not my native language, I do not use it on a daily basis, so mistakes can or will happen.

Work contains smut, so minors do not interact.

-Since she found out , she has not spoken a word to me…she hates me - the young prince lamented to his mother , Princess Rhaenyra , who watched him carefully , furrowing her eyebrows in consternation.

-You yourself said that you have hatred for her , why now your indifference to her has changed so drastically? - his mother remarked, looking for every single emotion that bubbled up inside him, wanting to understand what was hidden in the mind of her eldest son.

-I never hated her - he denied , closing his eyes and sighing heavily , frustrated -She is the one who hates me. She barely talks to me , and when she does it's as if ice falls out of her mouth instead of words.

-And why that bothers you now, my sweet boy? - Rhaenyra said softly, coming up to him and putting her hand on his shoulder - What happened that now , so suddenly, you crave her attention and acceptance?

Jacaerys was silent for a while, looking into the distance through the chamber window. Eventually he turned to his mother, his eyes filled with helplessness and anger , which slowly took control over his body.

He wanted to scream , he wanted to break everything within his reach and turn it into dust. But he did nothing and without a word , he walked away.

His steps were rapid , almost violent and hard. He walked through the corridors of Dragonstone as if the beast possessed his flesh , leaving behind a raw anger and tension that made the air heavier. And before he could chase away the fog that clouded his mind , he found himself in the chamber of his sister - Y/n Velaryon.

His dark eyes wandered involuntarily through the empty chamber , while his hands touched things that belonged to her. Stuck in an ocean of memories , he paused at the wooden desk, his fingers gliding over the material adorning the covers of old books , some closed , some open on pages , which she had read many times ,along with him , when they were still full of innocence.

He let himself remember , until his gaze rested on a piece of paper hidden between the pages. And before he could think about the subsequent consequences and implications , his hand uncover a letter , a letter regarding her...and the betrothal with Samwell Blackwood's son.

-Why are you here? - suddenly a female voice called out , a voice belonging to his younger sister , who was standing in the threshold of the chambers , looking at him , frowning her eyebrows.

-You can't marry him - he said , looking at her like an enraged animal, ignoring her question - You can't - he repeated, his body yet again being controlled by anger.

Her eyes rested on the paper , that was held by the young man in a disturbingly strong grip.

-How dare you tell me what to do? - she asked him , her voice dangerously cold -How dare you?!

-I dare to tell you what to do because I am your brother -he growled , clenching his hand into a fist , in which there was a letter.

-Brother? - she made an ironic sound - Our mother may have taken me under her care and raised me as her own, but that does not mean that you are my brother, no brother should be indifferent, cruel and cold as you are - she stated, and every word she spoke sounded like a sea of daggers that were cutting his body.

Jacaerys moved towards her, trapping her between the heavy wooden door and her own body.

-You talk about coldness and indifference? You are a hypocrite - he muttered, furrowing his thick eyebrows in annoyance - You are the one who destroyed the bond we once had. From the moment Baela was promised to me, you decided to destroy everything that was between us.

-If this is what you think - she scoffed, her eyes and voice devoid of emotions - If I make you so unhappy, you should be glad that I'm leaving for the Riverlands. You won't have to listen to me anymore, you won't have to see me.

-Do you truly think that's far enough? Do you think that there is a corner of this Earth that you could travel to far away enough to free me from this torment? - he muttered , looking into her siren eyes that seemed to draw him in.

They were both breathing harshly , words hanging heavy between them.

-What do you want me to do? - she whispered, feeling the air between them getting hotter -What do you want me to do to end your torment? - she asked , looking at him with misty eyes.

-I want you…to be mine - he replied - From the moment you let me touch your soft skin, from the moment you let me hear your voice, from the moment you let me admire your beautiful face I wanted you to be mine. Please dear sister , please let me be mine. Don't leave me, just be mine and I will be yours.

In response, the woman embraced his jaw with her warm palm and, moving closer to him, she let her full lips brush his.

-Nyke emagon va moriot issare aōhon Jacaerys (I have always been yours Jacaerys) - she confessed quietly , closing her eyes as his lips began to press against hers , desperate to feel her even closer , even more intensely.

Wet kisses spread over her lips , cheeks and jawline , leaving a trail of saliva behind. Jacaerys kissed her everywhere he could , marking her face with his mouth.

They were both needy , oh so needy. Every touch , every caress ,every whimper , every moan was more desperate than the last.

-Jaes ao yknagon sīr sȳz (Gods you smell so good) - he muttered , moving his nose along her neck , taking in the scent of the oils she sprinkled on her body and the sweat that had managed to appear on her skin through the heat she was in -Ao sylutegon sȳz tolī issa dōna mandia, sīr sȳz (You taste good too my sweet sister , so good) - he whispered in the hollow of her neck , licking and biting her pulse , while his long fingers , lazily hooked into the black fabric of her dress , letting it fall from her shoulders , revealing her firm , ample breasts.

-Oh Jacaerys - she mewled , embracing his head, entwining her fingertips between his wavy hair, pulling at its ends, drawing him closer to her -Don't stop…please don't stop touching me.

-Dōrī (Never) - he breathed out into her mouth , before he attacked her naked breasts , his tongue swirling around the hardened nipples , sucking them and tasting them with his tongue like a man starved.

Y/n moaned quietly , closing her eyes and surrendering to the feeling of a man's mouth on her skin and hands that sensually glided over her thighs , pulling the dark material up , revealing the material of her delicate undergarments.

-Jacaerys - she whimpered , watching as he sank to his knees in front of her.

-Will you let me taste you? - he asked , with rough fingers gliding along her smooth legs , stopping at her rounded hips , revealing her wet , swollen womanhood.

-Yes , yes , yes - she whispered , closing her eyes and tilting her head.

He was gentle and painfully slow, kissing and sucking her firm skin, leaving marks on her flesh as he got closer and closer to where she needed him the most.

She quickly fell into numbness. The amount of attention she was receiving seemed to overwhelm her body, but even so, she didn't want the moment to ever end, not with Jacaerys tormenting her womanhood in such an addictive way. She could compare him to a hungry animal , by the fact with what fervor he devoured her femininity, sampling every piece, not wanting to miss absolutely anything. She let the knot in her lower abdomen burst, spreading through her body the delightful and burning pleasure that was constantly coursing through her veins through the tongue of a man who refused to leave her, feasting on her even longer.

-Please let me feel you closer. I need you closer , closer than you have ever been - he groaned , embracing her frame , securing it in his strong arms and moving them so that he rested on the bed behind them, placing Y/n on his strong legs, immediately proceeding to attack her neck with slow kisses, while his hands crept to her throbbing entrance, which was waiting for him, embracing him tightly as he inserted two fingers into her, sensually moving them.

-Whatever you want , I'll give you whatever you want. But I beg you , don't make me wait my dear brother…I beg you. I need you as you need me…closer than we everwere - she whispered into his mouth , leaning her head towards his.

She moaned, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as Jacaerys removed his fingers from her tight canal , replacing them with his thick and veiny shaft that penetrated her gummy walls, making her hide her face in the hollow of his neck, moaning and panting as she felt her brother pushing inside her for the first time, kissing her cervix with his member, giving her incredible pleasure and pain that only increased her desire.

He tried to be gentle and slow, but the nails digging into his back, the melodious moans at his ear and the warmth of his sweet sister's body made him rough , almost violent , taking advantage of her trembling body , which seemed to melt into his.

-Ñuha jorrāelagon (My beloved) - Y/n whined , feeling the recently discovered pleasure grow in her lower abdomen, forming another knot ready to burst at any moment.

-Ivestragon nyke iksā ñuhon (Tell me you're mine) - the prince growled, thrusting into her harder, making her feel as if his manhood was deep in her belly.

-Iksan aōhon, iksan aōhon, mērī aōhon! (I'm yours, I'm yours, only yours!) - Y/n announced, grabbing his wavy curls, pulling them tight as an electrifying sensation went through her body, making her almost blind with pleasure.

-Arlī , ivestragon ziry arlī (Again , say it again) - he demanded, attacking her neck.

-Iksan aōhon (I am yours) - she repeated, bringing their foreheads together.

Yours. Yours. Yours.

After everything, she was finally his.

#house of the dragon #hotd #asoiaf #house targaryen #house of the dragon x reader #hotd x reader #hotd smut #house of the dragon smut #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon x reader smut #jacaerys velaryon x fem!reader #jacaerys velaryon smut #house velaryon #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys x reader #house of the dragon fanfiction #my writing #jacaerys velaryon fanfiction

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