#Natural Legal Heirs

[seemabhatnagar]

"Jharkhand High Court Sets Aside Substitution Order, Directs Fresh Consideration of Will and Heirship"

The Ranchi High Court set aside the substitution order of the Trial Court based solely on an unverified will, without addressing competing claims of natural heirs.

➡️The *case I am sharing with you today arises from a dispute of Title Suit, filed by the Plaintiff Ram Dulari Devi against the defendant, Diwakar Chandra Pandey, seeking cancellation of a sale deed and declaration of rights over a disputed property.

◆ After the plaintiff’s (Ram Dulari Devi) death in 2017, Dhruo Shankar Dubey filed an application under Order 22 Rule 10 CPC to be substituted as the plaintiff, claiming rights under a will allegedly executed by the deceased.

◆ The trial court allowed his application, which the defendant challenged on grounds of non-submission of the will and exclusion of the deceased plaintiff's natural legal heirs (four daughters and their descendants).#substitutionoflegalheirs #willandlegalrepresentation

➡️The primary legal issue in this case was whether the trial court erred in substituting Dhruo Shankar Dubey as the plaintiff based solely on an unsubstantiated will, without considering the claims of the deceased's natural legal heirs and procedural requirements under Order 22 Rule 5 CPC.

➡️The Petitioner (defendants in title suit) contended that

◆ the will was not annexed to the substitution application, and its validity was unverified.

◆ the deceased plaintiff had four daughters and heirs of a fifth daughter, who were natural legal heirs and should have been included.

◆ the application was filed under the wrong provision (Order 22 Rule 10) instead of Order 22 Rule 5 CPC.

➡️The Opposite Party (Substituted Applicant in title suit) asserted that

◆ the probate was unnecessary for substitution under the will.

◆ the will was filed with other documents and was not contested by the defendant.

◆ the procedural defect in the application’s citation was immaterial as the relief sought was clear.#naturallegalheir

➡️The High Court observed that

◆ The trial court failed to consider that the "deceased had natural legal heirs" (four daughters and heirs of a fifth).

◆ The will, which formed the basis of substitution, was not submitted with the application but later with a document list.

◆ Both natural heirs and the applicant claiming under the will should have been impleaded to represent the deceased's estate.

◆ The court referenced precedents emphasizing the need for a summary inquiry under Order 22 Rule 5 CPC when rival claims regarding legal representatives arose.

➡️ The High Court set aside the trial court's order allowing the substitution of Dhruo Shankar Dubey, it directed the trial court to conduct a summary inquiry under Order 22 Rule 5 CPC to determine the legal representatives of the deceased plaintiff.

*Case Diwakar Chandra Pandey v. Dhuro Shankar DubeyCMP 228/2023, Before the Jharkhand HC at RanchiHeard By Hon'ble Mr. Justice Subhash Chand J

[nateezfics]

you know what I can't stop thinking about? arranged marriage au with prince! ateez. in smut form..

idk if you're taking any requests but.. just an idea I guess haha😌

ARRANGED MARRIAGE WITH PRINCE ATEEZ

PAIRING — ateez x reader

GENRE — romance, smut, prince/royalty au, prince!ateez, princess!reader, arranged marriage au, spouse!ateez, strangers to spouses to lovers, fem!reader, sub!reader, dom!ateez

WARNINGS — smut, unprotected sex, breeding kink (cuz ya know, gotta get that heir), possessive sex, first time sex/taking of virginity, oral (f & m receiving), fingering, sexual language//dirty talk

WORD COUNT — 6.2k

SUMMARY — you are a princess, and you’ve been wedded to a prince in an arranged marriage. naturally, it is expected for you and your now husband to be fruitful and produce an heir. it’s your duty, but you find yourself in the arms of your prince for reasons beyond just legal obligation. simplified summary: your first time with the prince you were forced to marry.

HONGJOONG

the books against your back were jagged and painful, but the discomfort did little to counter the pleasure you felt as a hard cock filled you yet again. you moaned and clawed at his strong back, the muscles flexing under your touch. there was a grunt in your ear when your nails dug in deep. his own hands held your hips, keeping you suspended against the large bookshelf.

hot breath against your neck made you shudder, and the teeth that sank into your skin a second later had you hissing in both pleasure and pain. “you’re awfully tight around me. are you close, hm?”

you watched as hongjoong lifted his head to face you. your eyes locked, and you’d never seen him look so intense. you squirmed under his gaze, but your movement was limited in his hold. your breath caught when his hand circled around your jaw; you had no other choice but to keep your sight focused on him.

hongjoong smirked. there was a wild gleam in his dark eyes, one you’d never witnessed before. since marrying prince hongjoong all those months ago, you’d only ever seen him calm, collected, and poised. he was a dutiful prince, dedicated to the crown and to his kingdom. he was polite, but cold, only ever really offering you attention at official events. you were beginning to believe he hated you, up until this evening. a particular duke had shown you a decent amount of interest at the ball, far too much for hongjoong’s liking. things escalated, and soon you found yourself stripped of your gown and thrown against the shelf within his study.

and there was no doubting the way your prince felt about you now.

hongjoong’s hips thrusted upwards repeatedly, and you began to unravel bit by bit within his arms. his eyes bore into yours, watching your face contort in pleasure. “you are my wife. do you understand?”

you barely managed a nod. you pulled at his back as you tried to anchor yourself to him like a lifeline. “y-yes.”

his lips captured yours in a languid, sloppy kiss. “mine, all mine. and i will dedicate as much time as i need to reminding you of this, so you will never forget it.”

hongjoong claimed you against his bookshelf repeatedly, over and over, until the sound of his name was the only sound to be heard within the expanse of his study. and with the marks that littered your skin, there was no way you could ever forget you were his.

SEONGHWA

“does this please you?”

your vision was hazy as you peered down the length of your body. a handsome face was nestled between your thighs, your arousal dripping down his chin while his eyes watched you closely. you nodded slowly, like it was a struggle for you to even comprehend what he was saying. “yes,” you breathed, “it does. very much. please, keep going.”

seonghwa smiled just before returning his attention to your pretty pussy. his tongue swirled over your bud and your body responded in kind, back arching and your fingers tangling in his dark strands. he was encouraged by the sounds you made, those pretty little whimpers and cries that had him stiffening in his trousers. he was eager to fuck you, to claim you properly as his wife, but he delayed his own pleasure just to taste your release on his tongue.

you came with a rush, pleasure surging in your body and offering you an experience you’d never had before. you shook under the weight of your orgasm, and seonghwa was there to guide you through it with soft caresses against your thighs. the look he gave you while he climbed over your body was one that made you feel so many things. it was a genuine surprise that your relationship with your arranged husband had grown into this; you had feared you’d fall into a loveless marriage like so many others. you’d never been so happy to be proven wrong.

seonghwa rid himself of the rest of his garments. his hard cock brushed your inner thigh, and you gasped at the feeling. he kissed down your jaw as he started to align himself at your entrance. “i’ll keep making you feel good,” he spoke. “i’ll fuck you with my cock, fuck you full of my cum and claim you completely. watch my seed make a home out of your womb. would you like that?”

you wanted nothing more. your legs wrapped around his waist and urged him forward. he obliged you, slipping himself into your tight heat. he allowed you time to adjust before rocking his hips into you over and over. and when the time came, you begged for his seed, begged for him to claim you like he’d promised he would.

YUNHO

when you were delivered the news that you’d been betrothed to a prince, you were afraid. afraid of a loveless marriage, of a marriage bound by duty. you feared that as the wife of a crown prince, your entire future would be rooted in stone. you were anxious your new husband would be someone you couldn’t even muster up the ability to tolerate. and when you thought of the wedding night, of performing your marital duties, you felt nerves, disgust, uncertainty.

but prince yunho surprised you in every way. he was kind, gentle, respectful, and beyond beautiful. you weren’t expecting it, but falling into his arms the night of your wedding came naturally to you. there were no nerves or disgust like you’d once feared. you felt at ease by his presence, and even after he offered you a way out of this, even when he gave you a choice, you still desired to go through with it.

yunho’s large frame hovered over you, enveloping you within his presence. his scent was all around you. his hips glided forward, plunging his cock deep inside you until you felt impossibly full. he chuckled at the way you whimpered, adoring the sight of your eyes rolling at the surge of pleasure. his hand cupped the side of your face, your skin hot to the touch. “you are beautiful,” he spoke softly, almost reverently. “i never expected to be graced with such a beautiful wife and princess.”

you felt bashful under his attention. you hid your face in his hand, earning yourself another giggle from the prince above. he urged you to face him again, and you were overwhelmed by both the pleasure he gave you and the stunning sight of his smile.

“don’t be so shy. i am your husband, after all.” yunho retracted his hips before snapping them into you again. you both groaned at the bliss. his soft smile morphed into a smirk. “and i am filling you to the brim with my cock. so, tell me, how badly do you desire me?”

you breathed in, and out, and over again while you reveled in the way he filled you up so full. long gone was the discomfort; your cunt now took him in completely, eager for him to take you. “please,” you whimpered as you lifted your hips to urge him for more. “take me. claim me. i need you so desperately.”

yunho gave you more than you ever could’ve asked for, pleasuring you so well until you had your fill. and with each thrust, the fears you once had slipped away, replaced with pleasure and admiration and a hope for the future.

YEOSANG

“ah! j-just like that. fuck, just like that.” yeosang watched with awe as you took him in full. the head of his cock grazed the back of your throat and he thought he could’ve seen stars. his hand was full of your hair, steadying your pace as you bobbed your head up and down.

the two of you had been avoiding each other since your wedding. things were…awkward, to say the least. neither of you were very outgoing, and didn’t exactly know how to interact. you were married, but were practically strangers. even after all of his royal training as a prince, yeosang was clueless how to engage with you. he was always destined to be in an arranged marriage, and he always knew he was expected to produce an heir….but no one offered him any insight on what to do beyond that. it wasn’t until his closest friend at court, wooyoung, practically locked the two of you in a room together did he finally muster up the courage to engage with you. things were less awkward after that.

and now here you were, in his room, with his cock down your throat. things had definitely improved.

yeosang cursed when you wrapped a hand around his base. when you glanced up at him, lips stretched around his shaft, he almost came undone instantly. he pulled your mouth from him before that could happen. the shocked look on your face was almost comical. he might’ve laughed if he wasn’t so aroused. “i don’t want to cum just yet.”

you gave him an odd look. “why not?”

“i want to make you feel good, too,” he admitted. he swallowed at the way you kept eyeing his cock. “i…i would like to fuck you, if that’s alright with you.”

you both powered through the initial awkwardness at first. the unsure touches, the slow falling of clothing, the experience of being bare before each other, witnessing each other’s bodies for the first time. you both melted into each other the moment he seated himself inside you, finding your rhythm and allowing your desires to take over.

“you’re so tight. fuck, you’re so tight.” yeosang buried his cock into your heat over and over, feeling the way your walls clamped around him like a vice. he was encouraged by your sounds and the way your hands gripped at his back.

“i’m so close,” you breathed. “you’re making me feel so good, yeosang.” you held onto him tightly as you began to grow overwhelmed by your incoming orgasm.

all yeosang wanted was to make you fall apart. he’d now discovered his most favorite thing in the world, and all he could think about was making you scream his name. and you did just that as you fell apart moments later, his name slipping from your lips like a prayer. he wasn’t too far behind you, releasing himself inside you and filling you to the brim.

SAN

you felt all sorts of ways about your new husband. you didn’t hate him, no. he was kind enough to you, pleasant to make conversation with and polite and courteous. your marriage to him thus far was going far better than you expected. but you didn’t love him. at least not yet. there was definitely something akin to romance between you, but it was much too new, too delicate. the one thing you knew for sure was that the sexual tension between you and the prince was thick, and made it almost unbearable to be near him. you wanted him more than anything, needed him even.

and eventually, the tension snapped.

san rolled his hips forward, seating himself as deep within you as he could go. his grip on your waist was rough, his fingers in your flesh bordering on painful. “you’ve no idea how much i’ve been wanting this, wanting you.”

you whimpered at the fullness of him. his cock stretched you out wide, and you couldn’t recall a time you’d ever felt so full. your hands gripped at the backside of his shoulders and your legs circled around his waist, your body silently begging him for more. “san, please. i need more.”

“since you asked so politely.” the sheer force of his thrust stole the breath from you, a silent cry catching in your throat. san didn’t allow you much time to collect yourself before setting up a ruthless pace. he was desperate, desperate for you. the raging desire he’d been feeling for you fueled every thrust, every plunge of his cock into your heat. you felt absolutely wondrous, so perfectly warm and wet and tight around him. “you’re so tight for me, fuck, you feel divine. and you’re taking me so well.”

the polite prince you knew him to be was a distant memory. now, all you saw above you was a man wild with desire. his words, his cock, and the sight of him were all making you feel overwhelmed, and you knew your end was near. “s-san, feels so good!”

san peered down at you with his dark eyes, a smirk stretching across his face. “yeah? are going to cum for me?” when you nodded frantically, he hiked your leg over his shoulder, driving his cock deeper into your dripping cunt. “i’m going to fill you up so full, and claim this little pussy all for myself. would you like that? want me to breed you so good, hm?”

the only answer you were able to offer him was a cry of his name as you crumbled underneath the weight of your orgasm. your own release urged the man above you to his own.

san’s hips stilled as he came, cock throbbing and filling you up with his seed. he kept himself seated inside you, not wanting a single drop to fall from your stuffed hole. “you’re so addicting,” he whispered against your skin as his mouth traveled up your neck. “and now that i’ve had you, i don’t think i’ll ever be able to get enough.”

MINGI

“look at you, so pretty like this.” the deep rasp of mingi’s voice settled on your ears and brought you back to reality. your eyes focused on his handsome face. he was already watching you, seemingly intrigued by all the faces you were making, like he wanted to commit every expression to memory. “you look beautiful underneath me, full of my fingers.”

heat simmered on your cheeks. you squirmed, both from the pleasure and his attention, and sighed as his long fingers curled inside you. his fingers grazed the sweet spot nestled deep within you, causing your back to arch.

mingi smiled. “oh? did that feel good?” his smile grew when you nodded, like he was proud of himself for making you feel this way. this was certainly a new experience for the both of you, and so intimate. you were thankful for a husband like him, someone willing to be kind and patient with you. someone who cared for your pleasure.

“feels amazing,” you breathed. you were close, and you were certain he could tell by the way your walls gripped his fingers. he kept reaching for that spot, urging you to your release. you inhaled and exhaled before deciding to speak, “mingi, i need you inside me. please.”

“i am inside you.” his fingers curled again.

you shook your head. “your cock.”

mingi swallowed hard. “are you certain?”

you melted at his concern for you. it only made you want him even more. “yes.”

mingi was nestled inside you soon after. discomfort morphed into pleasure, and you quickly became intoxicated by the fullness of his cock inside you. he fucked you slow, deep, and so absolutely perfect. you always feared what an arranged marriage would entail, but mingi made you excited; you were eager to see how this blooming relationship between you and your prince would grow.

WOOYOUNG

“i knew it.” a smug voice came from between your thighs. a warm tongue flicked over your bud, teasing you and making you yearn for more. “i knew you’d fall for me eventually.”

you rolled your eyes, both from the pleasure of his tongue on your clit and annoyance. “i have not fallen for you. do not flatter yourself.”

wooyoung chuckled and pushed your thighs further apart. he sucked on your clit, and though you tried to hide it, he heard the small whimper slip passed your lips. he smirked victoriously, even though you couldn’t see over the skirt of your gown. “mmh, she says otherwise, love.” he licked a long stripe over your folds.

you bit your lip. you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of hearing you moan. for the lack of a better response, all you could offer up was a firm “humph”. as annoyed as you were with your new husband, you couldn’t deny the pleasure he was offering you, nor your own attraction to him. wooyoung was loud and had a large personality; he was cocky, and very self assured. the exact opposite of you. on your wedding day, he told you that it was only a matter of time before you fell in love with him. you tried ever since to prove him wrong.

but your own lust got in the way.

“come on now, let me hear you,” wooyoung urged. he lapped and sucked your sex like a delectable meal, doing everything in his power to coax those pretty little sounds of bliss from you.

it was a losing fight. the pleasure overwhelmed you, and as your high drew in closer, there was no way you could keep silent anymore. raspy breaths and soft whimpers fell out of your mouth as you began to spiral. you reached for his hair, but he was hidden under your gown out of your grasp.

“there’s those pretty sounds, love,” wooyoung praised you. “now cum on my tongue for me. i know you want to.” encouraged by his words, you came on his face mere moments later. he eagerly lapped up every drop of you while your thighs shook around his head. he milked you of your high before emerging from under your gown with a smirk.

you watched him closely through hazy eyes as he climbed over your body.

“now, i’m going to make my pretty little wife scream on my cock.”

JONGHO

you knew since you were little you were bound for an arranged marriage, dedicated to some unknown highly titled man. you were told that you just needed to make yourself like them, whoever you married. force yourself to be happy until you tricked yourself into believing that you were. then, you ended up married to a crown prince, but to your surprise, liking your new husband came easily to you. and even crazier, falling in love with him was effortless.

it took one dance with him, one moment spent in his strong arms.

jongho held your hands above your head as he fucked into you. you were rooted in place by his strong grip, and you were happy to remain there and take every bit of pleasure he was giving you. his thrusts were powerful, and his cock was reaching so deep within you thought you could see stars. “you’re so perfect for me.”

his lips were on yours in a slow kiss, and you swallowed up his words. in exchange, you sighed against his mouth. there was so much you wanted to say, but the pleasure was too much for you to even speak.

jongho seemed to understand every moan, every cry that you made. one of his hands let loose of you to lower down between where you were joined, thumb pressing into your clit. he inhaled your moans. “i’m going to make you feel so good, princess. make you cum on my cock over and over just like you deserve.”

“y-yes,” you sighed, so close to falling over the edge. “please, yes.”

he kissed you passionately, hips remaining constant and thumb against your bud. he was like an anchor as you came undone, keeping you in his hold as you fell apart. and he didn’t stop, keeping true to his word.

AUTHOR’S NOTES — this wip was the most voted for on the poll, so here it is! this request has been sitting in my inbox for so long🫣 i’m sorry! i hope you enjoyed this!!

i’ve opened up a ko-fi shop! link to it is on the pinned post on my blog. if you enjoyed this, or enjoy any of my work, a donation would be very appreciated! of course, a reblog and nice words would be just as meaningful💕

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ALL FICS ARE THE ORIGINAL IDEAS AND WRITTEN WORKS OF NATEEZFICS. DO NOT PLAGIARIZE. REPOSTING WITHOUT CONSENT FROM THE AUTHOR NATEEZFICS IS PROHIBITED!

[smokesandsonatas]

wait so do all of the in-laws want grandchildren…?

I don't see all of the TWST in-laws pushing their sons to have children. But some of them, due to differing circumstances, might encourage or even require (You) Yuu and their son to have children.

Here's a list of characters that I think may face such expectations from their families:

Draconia Family: Malleus is one of the last known surviving members of the Draconia bloodline, alongside his grandmother, the current queen of Briar Valley. There are only 2 Draconias left, as far as we know. As royalty in the fae world, lineage is crucial for both political stability and the continuation of magical traditions. It would be expected that Malleus, upon marriage, should have children to secure the continuation of the Draconia line and ensure that the legacy of the fae kingdom persists. His family—and the broader fae community—might consider it his royal duty to produce an heir to maintain the kingdom's strength and heritage. Ensuring that they will still have a Draconian ruler should time come to pass.

Shroud Family: The Shroud family carries a heavy legacy of responsibility and duty, they need to continuously manage S.T.Y.X. As keepers of Tartarus/Phantoms, tied to life and death, it’s likely that they would expect a successor. In the case of Idia, his introverted nature might make this pressure even more overwhelming. I imagine Idia might be reluctant to bring another Shroud into the world given their curse. However, the need for a capable heir to continue the Shroud family’s responsibility is expected of him.

Kingscholar Family: As a member of the royal family of Sunset Savanna, Leona’s position as the second prince places him in a complicated situation. Though he is not the crown prince, there might still be an expectation for him to have children, especially if something happens to the direct heir (If Falena's direct line, Cheka is affected). Royal families typically focus on ensuring the continuation of their bloodline, and it does not exempt him from the weight of these expectations. There could be pressure from his family to contribute to the royal line’s security, ensuring the Kingscholar's leadership for future generations.

Al-Asim Family: The Al-Asim family is one of immense wealth and power, with a significant focus on maintaining their influence and control over their business empire. As the heir to this massive fortune, Kalim is likely to face pressure to marry and have children to secure the family’s continued prosperity. Having an heir would not only ensure the Al-Asims remains powerful but would also provide continuity in leadership, safeguarding the family’s wealth and influence across generations.

Ashengrotto Family: Though Azul's family is well, 'normal' in this context, there may be societal or even personal expectations for him to have an heir, particularly if his business empire continues to grow. Azul, particularly his maternal lineage are notable mages in the Coral sea. I imagine there will be unsaid pressure for him to continue his Ashengrotto line. He is a shrewd businessman and Azul may view having an heir as securing a legacy, someone to inherit and manage the empire he will build in the future. His goal to have an heir is maybe more of a personal ambition rather than familial or societal demands.

Leech Family : The Leech twins come from a very different perspective, the other chaotic, while the other one relishes in chaos. It is said that their family manage successful businesses in both land and sea. If we consider the Leech family as akin to mobsters or powerful figures in the merfolk world, their business operations likely extend across various places, possibly using both legal and less-than-legal means to expand their influence. With such a network, there is a strong sense of obligation to ensure that the family's control and legacy continue into the next generation. In this case, Floyd and Jade, despite their chaotic nature, would be expected to contribute to the family line to preserve the power structure their family has built.

Or Jade, and Floyd would just want to have children just for the fun of it. Who knows, really. ;))

[melodymidway]

Just a few hard pills to swallow about the Westerosi succession for Team Black stans.

The Greens weren't at all delusional or selfish to expect Aegon to be named heir.

As a matter of fact, the firstborn sons of lords and kings become heirs the moment they were born, and without the need for specification. It doesn't matter if the first wife, or the second, or the tenth, has given birth to said son. So when Otto and Alicent advocated for Aegon's birthright, they asked for a basic thing in their time and society. No matter how much people want to ignore this fact and call Aegon 'usurper', his claim was very real and very strong. This is why he, his sons and his brothers would have found themselves on the Wall at best and dead at worst even if they had adhered to Viserys's whims.

Lucerys has zero claim to Driftmark. And no, being the great-great-whatever grandson of Alyssa Velaryon doesn't make the slightest difference.

Not even legitimisation would have helped Luke retain his Velaryon heirship because he isn't a Velaryon. Period. The argument about his being Alyssa Velaryon's descendant, which is somehow supposed to justify the actual usurpation of the other House's seat, is one of the most nonsensical takes I've seen. Naturally, the noble Houses intermarry all the time. If every lord opened his pedigree and decided that he has a claim to his great-grandmother's family's castle, Westeros would drown in blood. That's why succession laws exist, as unfair as they can be. For some reason, I don't see people saying that Doran Martell should be crowned king because he's descended from Daenerys Targaryen.

Women in Westeros can and do inherit. Rhaenyra isn't special.

As the Andal law goes, a son inherits before a daughter, and a daughter inherits before an uncle. While the male primogeniture is a thing, there's a clear clause of female inheritance. Cersei becomes the Lady of Casterly Rock when her brothers are out of picture. Rhaenys operated on the same law while trying to get her lawful heirship. There are cases when uncles attempt to steal their nieces' birthright (as in the situation with Sansa Stark and her uncle Jonnel), but plenty of women do rule their ancestral seats. Saying that Rhaenyra is the first woman to be named heir is wildly inaccurate.

If Rhaenys had ascended the Iron Throne instead of Viserys, the matters of succession wouldn't have changed.

For some reason many people believe that Rhaenys's ascension would have magically wiped out male primogeniture (same for Jace if he had become king). I'm sorry to disappoint, but Laenor would have been Rhaenys's heir, not Laena. The latter would have been made one only if Laenor had met his canon fate and died with no legitimate issue. As I mentioned earlier, Rhaenys strived to get her inheritance based on Andal law, according to which she does have an advantage over her uncle Baelon and his sons. If she had been the older sister of Viserys and Daemon, she wouldn't have pressed her claim. By the same logic, if Viserys had never remarried, Rhaenyra would have had a legal advantage over Daemon (though Jaehaerys's 'brilliant' management of Rhaenys vs Viserys debate might have gotten in the way).

The Greens are pro Andal law, not anti women in power.

And these are two different things since, as it had already been said, the Andal law does include a clause of female inheritance. So no, it isn't hypocritical of Alicent to offer to make Baela heiress of Driftmark. Laenor is dead without legitimate children. Laena is equally dead. The circumstances make Baela a very viable candidate for the Velaryon heirship.

[drakaripykiros130ac]

People are so insensitive when it comes to Rhaenyra’s situation. I have never seen so much cruelty directed towards a girl who was put between a rock and a hard place.

You all are acting as though Rhaenyra’s goal in life was to cheat on Laenor and undermine the Velaryons, her allies and her kin. She didn’t sleep around with the purpose of getting back at her husband and having children with other men out of spite (she’s not Cersei).

Rhaenyra was forced into marriage with a gay man and expected to produce heirs not only for the Iron Throne but also for Driftmark. So, an heir and a spare for House Targaryen. Another heir and another spare for House Velaryon. Four children (preferably sons) were expected from her womb. Good luck with that.

Let’s suppose that the rumors are true and Jacaerys, Lucerys and Joffrey are not Laenor’s. Rhaenyra’s decision to have children with another man should be less criticized, and regarded with more sympathy. She couldn’t spend her entire marriage life to Laenor without having children. Her “suitable” options were these:

1. Remain childless and let herself, the Princess of Dragonstone and Heir to the Throne, be called barren.

2. Demand an annulment by exposing Laenor’s nature (confirming the rumors), and not only humiliating House Velaryon (her allies) but also putting the succession of Driftmark into question (since Laenor was Corlys’ only son and his chosen heir).

At a time when a faction of snakes was constantly nipping at her heels, either one of these options would have left Rhaenyra vulnerable at Court.

She took matters into her own hands and had children with another man. And not just another man. This was a man she could trust, her sworn shield, a man who cared for her and who would never betray her (it’s hard to find someone like that).

To claim that she should have chosen a Valyrian (as though the options are unlimited) is extremely superficial. For this to work, she needed someone trustworthy, someone who would not attempt to claim the children later on. We all know that Daemon would have been the best option for her. She loved him, he was Valyrian and her ally. But alas, with his own marriage and life away from Court, it wasn’t really possible. And I am not really sure if Daemon would have been okay with another man laying claim to his children (that is up for debate).

Rhaenyra preferred a man who was trustworthy over a man with the “correct” features. The chances were 50/50 that the children would look like her, and unfortunately, they didn’t. That’s that.

Laenor and Corlys accepted the situation, because they understood what it would cost them all if they didn’t. This whole thing was on their heads. They provided the heir to the throne with a husband incapable of reproducing. It was not Rhaenyra’s fault.

As such, the children were recognized as Velaryons by the father (Laenor), the Lord of Driftmark (Corlys) and the King (Viserys). And these are the only opinions which matter. No one can prove that the boys didn’t inherit Baratheon and/or Arryn genes. Legally, Jacaerys, Lucerys and Joffrey are the sons of Rhaenyra and Laenor.

When it comes to the Iron Throne, it doesn’t matter who fathered Rhaenyra’s children, as long as they are hers. She is the ruling Queen. And we have no way of knowing how things would have gone down after Rhaenyra became Queen. Daemon had two sons of his own. He could have managed to convince Rhaenyra to acknowledge Jacaerys, Lucerys and Joffrey as bastards and then legitimize them, since she has the power to do so. If the boys wouldn’t have been accepted by the Realm (unlikely), there is also the possibility that Rhaenyra could have decided to pass the succession to her and Daemon’s children. Rhaenyra had legitimate heirs who could have taken the throne after her death.

As for Driftmark, despite greedy Vaemond’s ramblings, the succession was just fine. The Velaryon line would have continued through the marriage between Lucerys and Rhaena.

Lucerys had the Velaryon name and Rhaena had the Velaryon blood. Their children would have had the Velaryon name and blood. Problem solved.

People need to stop acting as through Vaemond was some sort of crusader, demanding “justice” for his House. He was just as much of an upstart as the Hightowers and he wanted to take Corlys’ power for himself, and so he took advantage of some rumors to discredit Rhaenyra’s children and advance himself.

Things are not black and white, and given Rhaenyra’s nearly impossible situation, exceptions can be made. And these exceptions wouldn’t have affected neither the succession of Driftmark nor that of the Seven Kingdoms.

[ashprince-of-bel-air]

The Making Of An Heir

Short one off for now 😬

The games were disappointing, you could tell that from your husbands disposition, how angry he was when he came home, the way he threw vases across the room, shattering the pottery and causing red wine to spill up the walls.

His anger aroused you, you did not want to admit it but it did, watching Geta destroy pottery and shout at the senators stirred something inside of you, making you long for your emperor, to please him in a way only you knew that you could, knowing that you could temper your husband and your Emperors wrath made you feel proud and important.

Originally you had been offered to both of them, to see which one would want you as a wife. Geta was enthusiastic, your porcelain skin and delicate looking nature made him enamoured with you, the way his eyes raked lustfully over your skin knew that he wanted you, even fight for you. Caracalla did not seem interested, only bothering with his pet monkey and ignoring you, he had his own hoard of lovers to satisfy him anyway, what was one lone woman to a harem of people ready and waiting for him.

Geta was the one you wanted anyway, you had seen him before at many games and admired his royal visage, the proud way he carried himself, the look of power in his eyes as he decided the fate of the gladiators stilled your heart. He was a man of power and a man that knew what he wanted,

The ceremony that consumated your marriage was short, just long enough to make it legal, Geta was not concerned about legalities, he just needed a wife and one that would obey him. And obey him you would, most nights he would come home from the war council angry, needing a subject to take his anger out on. Those nights it was you, he would come back and bend you over a desk, slamming into you with no regard for your wellbeing nor your pleasure, filling you with his seed and hoping for you to produce an heir for him.

The roughness did not bother you, in fact you enjoyed it most nights, though you longed for him to take you as a husband took a wife, eye contact and reverent kisses. You always believed it to be a fantasy, one that you would hold onto anyway.

One night the senators meeting was bad, you could hear the smashing of ceremonial plates and porcelain busts, Geta would not be in a fine mood tonight. You hurried away the maids that kept you company, though you did not mind his wrath upon yourself you hated it when he took it out on the maids, the delicate flowers they were, they did not deserve it.

Geta stormed into your shared room, pacing like a madman, muttering under his breath at how the senators were conspiring against him and his brother. You coaxed him over to the marital bed eventually and spoke softly onto his ear as he lay beside you. "The senators can't argue against you if you produce a son" Your voice was laced with lust and seduction, nibbling gently at his ear and kissing his neck, feeling the anger fade away from him.

Geta could never ignore you when you mentioned producing an Heir for him, that's all he desired for now, to breed you and get you pregnant, to produce a strong son from him.

Geta flipped you on your back and his eyes bore down at your with lust, his fingers finding their way to your wet folds for him, you never needed any encouragement but it made him chuckle this time, enjoying your wetness, placing his fingers in his mouth and savouring your taste.

Your eyes almost rolled into the back of your head throughout that exchange, you wanted to make a comment but your words were interrupted by a moan, your own moan as you felt Geta slide inside of you, stretching to fit him.

It was the first time Geta took you this way, staring down at you, drinking in your curvaceous body, in his mind he was cursing himself for never doing this before, this way he had every access to paw and grope at your beautiful skin beneath him, watching your tits bounce with every thrust he pounded into you.

Your moans began to grow louder, feeling his hand roughly upon your breast and the other thumbing your clit, your orgasm was not far away and you did not care who in the empire heard it as you cried out Geta's name in your pleasure. His own was only moments after, the gripping of your walls against him and the desperate cry of his name was enough to finish him off.

You could feel the soft kisses of his lips against your neck, his hand now gently stroking your stomach "I won't stop until it's a boy" Geta's teeth bit your neck aggressively, you knew in your heart he would carry on until he had a son, a feat you would agree to easily anyway, you would do anything for him.

[thestarsofpines]

a little wip of a combination of prompts and AUs I've seen that I just had to give my own take on.

Damian was bored. He’d followed Father around for most of the night, listening absentmindedly to the trivial blabbering of rich socialites that tried to suck up to the prince of Gotham. He could only handle it for so long, patience quickly running out as a few shoved their own children his way, perhaps hoping the young heir would make a friend and create easier access to the Wayne wealth. Pitiful. 

The young teen stood off to the side of a polished dance floor that had couples mingling and swaying to the soft classical music playing. He’d picked up a drink and was sipping at it slowly, just to have something to do with his hands. He itched for something to do that wasn’t making small, meaningless talk.

He hears footsteps approaching, perhaps a bit heavier than intended, as if it was a warning for someone that they were approaching.

“Little Badger, we talked about this in great detail earlier, you are not to leave my sight-“

Just as a man moves to place a hand on Damian’s shoulder, the teen turns around and glares at the man. He takes in the details of the man quickly; older, likely mid forties if not older, gray hair pulled back into a low ponytail, vibrant blue eyes that at first are narrowed at him in perhaps annoyance before they turn wide with shock. The man recovers quickly, expression turning apologetic as he steps back.

“Oh-my most sincere apologies, I thought you were someone else!” He breathes out, and his expression shifts again to one of slight surprise as he takes in more of Damian’s features from the front. “My, you two do look quite alike.” He says easily, hand coming back to rest beside him before he places both his hands behind his back. “I do apologize again, young sir…?”

Bruce spots this interaction, politely ends the conversation he was in, and makes his way over to investigate. 

“Damian Wayne, my son.” Bruce slides up to the pair, standing easily at Damian’s right. “Vlad Masters, yes?”

Said man’s eyes widen ever so slightly at the easy recognition and at the fact that he could’ve accidentally torn into such an influential young man as he’d been planning to do to whoever he was looking for, but he recovers quickly again.

“Yes, I was just apologizing to your boy here, Mr. Wayne. It seems he has quite a lot of physical similarities to my godson.”

Damian remains silent, but nods in the direction of the billionaire. Something isn’t sitting right with him about Masters, but he can’t put it into words. He’ll allow Father to handle the situation, for the moment. 

“Oh? Why, that is quite interesting.” Bruce smiles, open and disarming. He places a hand on Damian’s shoulder, and gives a subtle squeeze. “What’s the young man’s name?”

“Daniel,” And the grip tightens ever so slightly. “He is the son of some old family friends who unfortunately cannot take care of him anymore, so I’ve become his legal guardian in their stead.”

“How kind, opening your house to a youth in need.” Bruce continues, pushing for more information. “From experience I know how hard that can be. Raising a teenager is no cakewalk that’s for sure.”

“Oh yes, I do recall hearing of your experiences with adoption; you’re up to four adoptions now, yes?” There’s a hint of something in Vlad’s eyes, likely aware of the information seeking nature of this conversation but unconcerned by it. Intriguing. “I can hardly claim to have such kindness, one fifteen year old is enough for me.”

Damian has to physically restrain his face from reacting. Perhaps this is another cloning situation. Perhaps this Vlad Masters should be higher on the priority list of people to investigate closely. 

“Oh, well I do believe I have taken up enough of your time, Mr. Wayne. I really must get looking for Daniel, as we do intend to leave soon.” Vlad holds out a hand to the two, smiling confidently. “It was a pleasure to meet you both.” 

Bruce takes it and shakes it politely; Damian’s following is more forced in its gentleness. Vlad Masters unsettles him and it is driving him mad that he cannot pinpoint why. 

“Enjoy the rest of the gala, Vlad Masters. Perhaps our paths will cross again soon.”

[bridenore]

HD longer fics recs : 80k to 90k words

Here are a few recs for fics ranging between 90k and 100k words.

You can see my recs for fics that have more than 200k here, between 150k and 200k here, between 125k and 150k here, between 100k and 125k here and between 90k and 100k here.

Azoth by @lol-zeitgeistic [88k]

Now that Harry is back at Hogwarts with Hermione for eighth year, he realises that something’s missing from his life, and it either has to do with Ron, his boggart, Snape, or Malfoy. Furthermore, what, exactly, does it mean when one’s life is defined by the desire to simultaneously impress and annoy a portrait? Harry has no idea; he’s too busy trying not to be in love with Malfoy to care.

the call of sweet things by @softlystarstruck [88k]

Draco’s happy with his quiet, lonely life in Woolbury, spending his days working at Pen Pals and keeping his already tidy flat spotless. But when Harry Potter shows up with pink hair and secrets about his magic, Draco’s carefully upheld balance falls apart. He doesn’t quite know how he ends up decorating Harry’s cottage, drinking unreasonable amounts of cocoa, and laughing more than he’s laughed in years, but it’s Christmas, after all– and he finally has a chance to set things right.

Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love by aibidil [80k]

In which a group of wizards’ rights activists goes on the offensive after a prohibition against love potions, forcing the magical world to confront the horror of magic’s role in sexual assault and the murky   legal nature of consent. Ron, Hermione, Harry, and Draco are swept   together to solve the case, and in the process they’re made to confront their own love and lust—with and without potions.

Criminal by @the-sinking-ship [83k]

Things were going just fine for Draco Malfoy. He successfully conned and counted cards across Europe and America, amassing a small fortune, along with a lengthy rap sheet. That was until he made the grave mistake of returning to England for a high stakes card game and got himself caught – by Harry Potter no less. Now, Draco is stuck in England under Auror Potter’s guard with no friends, no distractions, and no escape. How the hell will he pass the time? And since when did Potter get so bloody fit?

Dear Cousin, Love Regulus by @xx-thedarklord-xx [86k]

As the sole Malfoy heir, Draco understood that his path was set long before his birth; who to be, how to act and what his choices should be. What he had not counted on was the power of outside influences. Letters from his deceased cousin caused him to realize that he did have choices, starting with the choice to be someone else, to be who he wanted to be. The road to self-discovery was difficult and navigating that path in the shadow of Harry Potter was its own challenge but maybe, just maybe, his friends would help him along the way. And he would owe it all to Regulus Black.

Heaven Through a Window by JocundaSykes [81k]

Life is going swimmingly for Draco: he’s a respected Healer, his son is excellent in every way, and none of his patients have died recently. Then he gets landed with Perfect Potter and his hordes of stupid friends. It’s intolerable. But the more time Draco spends with the lonely boy from Surrey, the more he believes that there might be a hero within us all.

If the Fates Allow by Saras_Girl [80k]

What’s that crackling in the walls? Harry has no clue at all. He’ll eat some cake and drink some wine Because he is completely FINE. –A story about life’s disregard for our plans. [2017 advent story]

In Free Fall by @kbrick [81k]

Draco Malfoy is a serious university student whose idea of a good time is translating Ancient Greek texts and having game night with his small circle of friends. Harry Potter is a hard-partying adrenaline junkie who’s happiest when he’s leaping from an airplane or hurtling over a waterfall in a kayak. They have nothing in common. But when they reconnect in the Muggle world, curiosity prompts them to strike up a deal. Draco will show Harry what it’s like to be a swotty overachiever and Harry will show Draco what it’s like to live life dangerously. It’ll be fun, and really, what’s the worst that could happen? It’s not like Draco’s going to fall in love with the guy or anything.

In Pieces by @dysonrules [85k]

Harry returns to Hogwarts as the new DADA instructor, only to find his teaching efforts thwarted by a very familiar ghost.

Knead by laughingd0g [83k]

This is not a story about Harry renovating Grimmauld Place. This is a story about coffee shops and brewpubs, about Ginny and Luna on a farm with creatures, about magical Oregon, coastal road trips, flying, friendship, and Draco Malfoy’s lean arms.

The Light More Beautiful by @firethesound [81k]

Thirteen years after Draco accepts Potter’s help escaping the horror of his sixth year, he returns to England where he makes the unfortunate discovery that Potter is still as obnoxious as ever. And worse, more than a decade overseas hasn’t been enough to dim Draco’s obsession with him.

Loverboys by @corvuscrowned [84k]

As post-war violence and tensions rise, it seems as if there’s no hope to unify the wizarding world. Except, maybe, a manufactured relationship between resident Saviour Harry Potter and known purveyor of the Dark Arts Draco Malfoy. (The fact that they detest each other is beside the point.) But as Draco’s unrelenting mind games begin to wear him down, Harry has to remind himself that it’s all fake. The relationship is fake. The affection is fake. The pet names, the romance — even the engagement photos are fake. But there’s something in Draco’s kiss that might just be real.

Martyred by @doingthechachaslide [82k]

Harry Potter only wants one thing: to take care of the people he loves. After Teddy’s abrupt departure from his role as Andromeda’s caretaker, Harry decides it’s finally time to step up and handle the job himself. Castoff Manor, an old Black family estate, has never seemed as sinister as the stories make it sound, but it’s there that Harry stumbles upon ghosts, haunting family secrets, and a familiar, snarky blond gardener hell-bent on chasing him out. Maybe if Harry sticks around long enough, he’ll finally learn why all of Andromeda’s previous caretakers have fled without looking back.

Merlin, Give Me Strength by Aelys_Althea [86k]

Draco retreated after the war. Despite the Wizarding world turning a smiling, forgiving face to any and all with a black name and stained reputation, he wanted none of it. All Draco wanted was to be left alone. Unfortunately for him, Harry Potter doesn’t want to leave him alone. And more than that, he finds himself with the most unlikely of house guests that he just can’t seem to rid himself of. Why is life never simple?

Merlin Works in Mysterious Ways by @lordhellebore [82k]

When Harry is forced to form a Blood Bond with Draco Malfoy under threat of death, he thinks his future will consist of a cold home and sexual frustration. But when a group of left-over Death Eaters decides to stir trouble, their lives change completely – and it takes them both some years to figure out whether it’s for better or for worse.

The Nightmare Club by Elle Gray [85k]

Hermione and Ron are going back to Hogwarts to do N.E.W.T.s, Ginny isn’t. Harry hasn’t decided, until he has, in front of the Wizengamot and now he’s responsible for Malfoy as well. A tale of enemies who learn to get along, get it wrong and get it on. Everything is purple, some things are on fire and no-one is sleeping properly. But don’t worry, there’s tea!

On the Last Day of Our World by Sansa [84k]

During a detention, Harry and Draco get locked in a strange room together overnight. When they escape the next morning, they discover they are alone. Love, angst and adventure abound as they struggle to survive in an empty world.

red and green are complimentary colours by  ace_0fhearts [88k]

After the war Hermione manages to convince Harry to go back to Hogwarts for his eighth year. Expecting an uneventful year of classes and rooming with the other Gryffindor boys, he’s surprised when McGonagall tells him he’ll be sharing a room with Draco Malfoy. Now Harry has to get through a year of arguments and awkward silences. Or he would, if Malfoy would stop ignoring him and moping around the castle alone. Or: Draco and Harry fall in love through sleepless nights and late night quidditch games

Reparo by amalin [84k]

Voldemort’s final defeat does not mean Harry Potter’s troubles are over; far from it. In the aftermath of war, he returns to a Hogwarts that is fractured and divided, but this is no break that can be fixed with a spell. New owls, fading scars, surprising alliances—and along the way, the hardest task of all, to live with it. 

The Stars Have Courage by @fantalf [85k]

Draco can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t move. He can’t hear anything besides the buzzing in his ears. The walls are closing in. The world becomes smaller, narrowing itself to the pain in his chest, and it becomes the only thing that makes sense. He tries to cry. Maybe he is crying, but there are no tears anymore. Luna’s words echo endlessly in his brain. Harry doesn’t remember. Harry doesn’t love Draco. Repeating ceaselessly. Infinite, Harry used to say. No. No. No. Draco can’t lose him again. But he doesn’t know who you are now. He doesn’t love you. He hates you. You are no one. His world turns into an overwhelming pain. And that pain is all that he is. — Draco waited five long years to watch his husband wake up from a coma. He’s not ready to meet a Harry with no memory of anything that happened after he died at The Battle of Hogwarts, twelve years ago.

Things That Change by eutichydes [84k]

After Hogwarts, everything changes.

This Year’s Love by trishjames [84k]

This year’s love had better last, heaven knows it’s high time when you try to make lovers from friends. But Harry Potter realises time and time again that it’s simply not possible for him. And then along comes Draco Malfoy— the ultimate foe on the mend. Whatever will become of them? A story about love.

Variation by @lower-east-side [87k]

After suffering enormous losses, Draco Malfoy must now struggle to define his place in the post-war world. Through dashed hopes and changing fortunes, Draco carves out a new niche for himself. But adapting to life with Harry Potter may be the biggest challenge of all.

I hope you enjoy these stories as much as I did!

[the-daily-dreamer]

Alicent being overlooked by the small council is obviously not at all surprising. But I need everyone to realize this is very much not a "I never thought the leopards would eat my face" scenario like I see a lot of team black saying.

Alicent is not pushing Aegon on the throne because she's against feminism or whatever.

There is literally no contextual evidence where Alicent alludes to not supporting Rhaenyra because she's a girl and girls can't rule. None. She consistently reaffirms Rhaenyra's right to rule even after Aegon is born up until Viserys dies and she assumes he changed his mind (which btw is not surprising because in his healthier years when she was young he questions his decision and tells her of his dream of a son with the crown).

But never does Alicent say "Oh but Rhaenyra is a woman so she can't rule because women are bad". It's a question of legal birthrights and competing valid claims in a world with intentionally loose uncodified succession laws so that everyone has a chance to say "Well TECHNICALLY I am the heir". It's not about being anti woman for Alicent.

I know the interpretations and vibe of the show is trying to push a feminist narrative but they are doing a piss poor job at it because Rhaenyra is not actually facing any anti woman stuff on the show presently.

So to say this is a karmic moment for Alicent and that this is the consequences of her being a woman who supports the patriarchy is ludicrous.

Because she's supporting her son's very valid claim and she's supporting her family being protected after a life time of them being neglected and abused. She is NOT saying "I think the natural order should be women below men and that's why my son should rule not a stupid girl. But I'm special and a good woman so l deserve to be treated better" (which ironically is actually Rhaenyra's mindset but team black still isn't ready for that conversation).

[bethanydelleman]

Why didn't the Bennet family adopt an heir, do you think? I mean, Frank Churchill was adopted for that reason, so it was allowed. There were plenty of orphans around back then. And if the kid had to be of higher class to begin with, couldn't the Bennets have taken on a boy from a family in similar situations to the Dashwoods or Prices?

Oh I know this one! It was because there was an entail in default of heirs male, which would be specified as "heirs of his body", so adopted children need not apply. You also couldn't use a natural child. It must be a male child, of Mr. Bennet, born in legal matrimony. Otherwise it moves to the next in the male line (Mr. Collins).

Enscombe must not have had an entail, meaning that the Churchills could leave it to whomever they wanted. They chose Frank. Similarly, Uncle Dashwood was able to leave his estate to whomever he wanted (he chose Little Harry, through Mr. Dashwood and John Dashwood), Mrs. Smith was able to choose her heir in Sense & Sensibility (it was Willoughby), and Mrs. Ferrars could choose to leave parts of her fortune to whichever child she chose (why Fanny sucks up to her mom so much, she could inherit too). This means that all of these estates were not entailed.

If the estate was not entailed, the Bennets could have left it to their daughters. Interestingly, if they had wanted to preserve the estate, they could have made Jane, as the eldest child, the primary heiress (ie given her the bulk of the estate as a dowry) and then made it a condition of the marriage that the husband changed his name to Bennet. That would allow the estate to carry on the family line and maintain the prestige and wealth of the Bennet family.

[romanoffsbish]

Castles Crumbling

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!R

Natasha x Wanda / Others

Valkyrie x F!R

Royal AU Request | Natasha never was a fan of rules, so when sets were placed upon her love she pushed against them… Now she wonders if it’s too late to make it right again. | WC: 7,550

Warning: “Unrequited” Love | Jealousy | Mean Fuckboy Natasha / Sad R | Abusive Parents / Fucked Systems | HE!

Smut: Virgins (In various ways) | Mommy (R) | Oral (R) | Strap (N) | Degradation | Unorthodox “BJ” (🤷🏼‍♀️)

Minors DNI | 18+

“Natalia, keep your chin up," Melina scolded her daughter who was too busy glaring across the ballroom to even acknowledge her mother fixing up her gown. The strap had suddenly tethered, if not for Melina's resourcefulness she'd have had to hold an apology in front of the kingdom for her daughter, the heiress to the throne's, albeit unintentional, lack of modesty.

Natasha's eyes stayed trained on you, who was giggling at a slightly older woman's words. You were her fiancée, yet there you stood enraptured by another's presence as if they hung the moon and stars for you.

———

The redhead had no throne to sit upon though, she very well knew that, this unbearable distance forged between soulmates was one she herself created half a decade ago. She'd regretted it from the start, living without your love was lonely, and in this moment she felt the regret double at the thought of losing you fully.

You were once hers, exclusively so...

The two of you were the best of friends until she found out the intense love she held for you wasn't meant to be organically woven. Instead, the two of you'd already been signed up for a life together, something she should have seen as a gift, but the idea that you were only ever going to be hers due to legalities broke her.

To think, had she and Yelena been born in reverse that it'd be a much different fate. The redhead loathed the idea that such a system would exist in the first place and vowed to never place that pressure on your kids.

The kids she now wondered if you'd still share...

Natasha, in her state of grief has been blinded to the familiar turmoil you'd also experienced. It had gutted you when your parents said you were in line to marry the Romanov's heir, to keep strong alliances between your Kingdoms. To have the Romanov name was a dream come true, but to have no say in it upset you just the same. Yet you were ready to live life the same, to continue to fall in love with your supposed destiny and to thank fate for guaranteeing your forever bond.

Natasha regrettably went the other route, letting her resentments fester, and in turn she pushed you away. It wasn't gradual either, you were really confused by the dynamic switch—it was like night to day, and for years you were faced with her venomous demeanor. Animosity that was rooted in falsehoods still hurt just the same, and now you two couldn't be further apart.

Just like the strap of her emerald gown, she worried that the tie between your confused hearts was near to severing. Natasha could actually feel her heart splitting at the thought, she never considered her horrid actions would lead to an eventual permanent loss of you.

But now that she sees the web she's sown she gets it.

For the last five years shortly after you hit puberty, you had to watch as the woman you wholeheartedly adored became a stranger that thrived on promiscuity. To hear about it too as the women of the kingdom never minced words about their nights with her, and with each rendezvous you lost more hope for a joyful forever with her. Natasha buried herself in other woman, and actually thought you'd just wait patiently for her to come back, but clearly you'd grown tired of it.

You once thought it was just a rebellious phase, many heirs to thrones go through them, and you knew Nat was a free spirit. You even understood her want to be free, to see whomever she wanted in her youth. It was a natural curiosity you didn't indulge in though, because your heart only beat for the redhead, but you never asked her not to have explored it. Especially because she was never going to listen if you did. Natasha was headstrong, a natural born leader, not so much a lover.

Well, at least not this version of Natasha. She'd lost her once sweet demeanor with you, every interaction turned tense and abrasive. Natasha used to hold doors open for you, now she was purposeful in closing them. As if she was letting you know that her heart was no longer in sync with yours. She'd shut you out entirely, it was the vindictive nature of it all that really broke you down over time, and lead you to this moment of despair. In your youth she was your greatest hope.

— • — • — • — • — • — • — • — • — • — • — • — • —

"If he doesn't stop staring at you I will have to gouge his icy blue eye's right out of his skull," your best friend grumbled loud enough for the Barnes boy to hear as you both passed him by. "Natalia!" You shrieked, tiny hand flying to your mouth as you tried to hide your smirk of inappropriate amusement. The older princess smirked as she watched you losing your composure. "You can't just say those things!"

Natasha smirked, the gesture entirely teasing, "Why?"

"It's not ladylike." Natasha grinned even wider at the challenge of your words. "Fuck being ladylike."

Natasha threw her head back as she laughed at the sight of your shocked face. Your eyes wide and mouth comical agape. "Natty, we're royals!" The redhead shrugged, and rebutted lowly, her tone chillingly grave, "Yeah, as is he but he doesn't respect us like we are," then she walked further down to the murky body of running water, you followed her in a rush, but in your hurry you tripped over a rock and fell towards the creek with a fearful squeal.

"Careful now detka," Natasha teased as she caught you with ease, using her body to push you up against a tree to have you upright again, and for a second in time you thought—hoped—she might kiss you. But life was cruel in a way as all she did was assess your face for injury before she slid her clammy hand into yours and guided you over to the bundle of rocks. Careful as she helped you climb up first then she settled behind you and the two of you watched the sunset as you did every Sunday to mark the week's cruel end.

— • — • — • — • — • — • — • — • — • — • — • — • —

Everything was hectic being the children of royalty, especially for you, but with Natasha at your side it was all okay. The redhead always used to sneak you away to the creek that connected the many kingdoms, to where she'd let you play freely, like a kid should. Then as preteens it just became your spot to get away together.

Now it was where you spent your nights alone, talking to the moon and asking her where it all went wrong.

The redhead used to afford you the space to be your true, wild-child self unlike your parents who were far more strict in comparison to hers. Melina and Alexei held their children to high standards, of course, but they also never prevented them from being children.

Your parents were more akin to royal traditionalists in many ways, they believed children were meant to be seen, never heard. To be flaunted like assets, but never loved by anything outside of the hired help, who did their very best, but it's not like they were treated much better than you. To be given away like chattel, and never acknowledged as a person with free will like the commoners were. To never exist outside of the castle's bounds, a prisoner of the most bleak circumstances.

Natasha was your beacon of peace, she had always cherished your friendship, and held you in the highest of regards. Her biggest goal used to be to make you laugh, she'd tell you stories of Yelena's chaos, and on rare occasions she'd even let the blonde tag along so you could feel true joy. Then all of a sudden she cast you away too, you were obviously hurt by her choices, but even with her sudden animosity towards you you'd never shown her anything but respect and kindness.

Fellow royals called you a pushover, others a hopeless case, but truth be told, there were small cracks in her resolve at times that told you she must've still loved you. It was in the glances she'd cast your way when you were usually preoccupied. You'd always look up just in time to catch the traces of longing before her steely composure returned. She also was insanely protective of your womanhood, as if she had any right to claim it.

Like when the older Stark brother tried to get you to follow him to his quarters one night months back when his family was visiting. The redhead followed your naive form, then just as he went to escort you into his room she'd punched him so hard that his nose cracked, and his once white polo was soaked in crimson.

Before you could question anything she spat, "Don't ever try to sleep with my girl again Tony!" Then before you could savor the warmth of her claim to you she swiftly added her hypocrisy: "It ruins the appearance we must keep up for the public." She was gone in a flash, and you apologized to the man before running off to your quarters to sob over the loss of warmth.

It was a consistent cycle too, every time someone like Danvers, or Barnes tried to court you she was there, dauntingly lingering like a viper prepared to snap. Her gaze was always piercing, and they'd learned quickly to run to avoid needing to be physically removed.

Natasha's promiscuity obviously flourished, while your potential was always curbed at every turn. Not only did you hear the women whispering her praises, but just last week, after a pre-nuptials celebratory dinner with all the neighboring kingdoms you watched her leave the follow up gala with Wanda Maximoff, the gorgeous princess of Sokovia, in a fit of drunken giggles. Her brother, Pietro, was the heir marrying your brother.

You've now reasoned that you two would be entering a loveless marriage (on her end), just like your brother. All in the name of diplomacy you'd reminded yourself this morning, so you believed you'd both have your own partners. Which is why you were finally indulging the vivacious soul of Valkyrie, the shockingly single King from the neighboring kingdom of Asgard. She was beautiful in her own right, incomparable to your hearts muse, but undeniably gorgeous nonetheless.

It never once crossed your mind that Natasha would be fuming, and even if you'd maybe known she would be, you didn't really care anymore. This was the game she started, and you're fed up, so you'll gladly play along.

Why should she get to have all the fun?

Melina gripped her daughter's clenched jaw softly, and sighed in annoyance as she had to forcefully bring her gaze down to face her instead of you. "You did this to yourself Natalia, woman up and face the ugly truth that you alonenpushed your beloved into another's arms."

"Mama," Natasha whimpered pitifully, she always hated how serious and practical her mother could be. Never seeing between the lines, or trying to understand the reasons why. "No, there will be no pity from me, your father might coddle you girls, but you broke Y/N too many times for me to sympathize with you. Now fix your face, and go mingle with your people, Queen."

For the next ten minutes the redhead held her head up high, and conversed with the elders in the crowded room. It was the night before you were to be wed, so of course there was a pre-nuptials party. "Where is your fiancée?" Natasha cast her gaze to the corner you were in moments prior only to find it empty. Her body was actively panicking at the prospect of you slipping out, but she kept her voice steady. "I'm sorry, but please do excuse me. I actually need to go find her, she is really good at getting lost in the ballroom after a drink."

The man nodded sympathetically, and Natasha practically sprinted away from him as she frantically looked around. She nearly tripped over the gowns of the attendees as she haphazardly made her way over to you. Her blood boiled as Valkyrie's hands were holding you close by the hips, your gorgeous, genuine smile on display for a woman who held no claim to you.

Natasha was genuinely near to tears when she saw the way the suave woman whispered something humorous into your ear, making you laugh aloud so freely, with your head thrown back and a hand on her shoulder.

Her heart ached at the memories of all the times it was her making you laugh until you cried. She yearned to go back in time with every step she took to get to you, if she could undo her mistakes she would. Oh would she.

"Sweetheart, we've got incoming," the beautiful woman spun you out, and you saw a flash of red before you were back against her chest. Natasha's jaw clenched just the same as yours, how dare she even consider ruining your moment to move on from her once again.

"Y/N, we need to go mingle with the crowd," Natasha tried to grab your arm to pull you away from Valkyrie, but you roughly shrugged her off. "I'm having fun here Romanov, so you can speak for the both of us, you've done well enough at it so far. Feel free to continue on."

Valkyrie leaned in to press a gentle kiss to your cheek and Natasha quietly growled, "Unhand my fiancée Brunnhilde," to which the older woman merely rolled her eyes before she was whispering in your ear again, "Just go and talk to her Y/N, I'll be right here if you need me sweetheart, but don't let her upset you enough that you cause a scene in front of your parents."

You suddenly remembered your place, and silently parted from the woman with a sad smile that actually broke Natasha's resolve. Valkyrie scoffed as pools of brown met hers of green, "You're wasting a good woman," she shook her head and walked off towards the bar leaving the redhead to stew in her shame.

Seeing you so sad to be left alone with her was jarring, then she saw the evil glare of your fathers and wondered if things had gotten worse since she no longer really knew. She'd left you alone, and if she was right, he likely blamed you for her own promiscuity.

She could hear his morose voice clear as day, "Well, if you were more inclined to put out, she'd have stayed." He was always blunt, and degrading—never kind, and to think she'd given him a reason to hurt your feelings devastated her. She'll never really forgive herself.

But for some reason she hoped you still would as she calmly exited the ballroom, her feet moved faster as soon as the doors blocked the patrons view though. All the redhead wanted was to reach you, and apologize.

"What was that Natasha?" You inquired just as soon as she entered your soon to be shared room. "I mean honestly, you have some nerve staking your claim to me as if you even mean it. I am my own person, and quite frankly Romanov I have needs you don't satisfy!"

It was insane what she said next, the woman should be begging on her knees for your forgiveness, like she had planned, but instead she put her foot in her mouth.

"Please tell me you're still a virgin..." Your eyes went wide, and you rightfully scoffed, "And what if I wasn't? Is that a dealbreaker for you Miss Chastity Belt?"

Natasha's eyes welled with genuine tears that made you melt ever so slightly, apparently the idea that you'd given yourself to another devastated her, even if she was a bit of a hypocrite. You too were reacting like you were unwell, feeling warmth at her weak show of love.

"Y/N, please just answer me..." You rolled your eyes, and shrugged nonchalantly. "No, I am not a virgin."

"Fuck!" Natasha collapsed to her knees, her gown layered around her beautifully yet tragic. This was her worst fear. "With who? I-I, please just tell me now."

You rolled your eyes at the dramatics, as if she had any right to question you like this. Still, seeing her broken hurt you, it was truly unfair to you, and even if it would be embarrassing you reached into your bedside table, and threw a worn down painting, and a strap at her.

Natasha's jaw clenched at the sight of the plastic, wondering who took your innocence with the device, picturing their demise, but then she lost her breath as the painting flipped over to reveal her obvious likeness.

"I-I don't understand Y/N," she spoke softly, her head tilted up and you bit back a smile at seeing the confused, adorable little pout that she wore. "It's called steadfast loyalty Natasha, plus, it's not like you didn't run off every prospect I've ever had over the years."

"Y/N, I," she cut her apology off as she sobbed even harder. You wanted to remain furious, but you could feel her pain reflecting in your heart, so you gently caressed her glistening cheek, and weakly smiled. "Get off the floor Nat." The redhead jumped to her feet in seconds and clumsily crashed into you, making your body stumble backwards until you were flat on the bed with the breathtaking woman hovering. The beautiful image of karma unfolded before you, it hurt your heart to see her sad, but you couldn't deny that the flushed skin and glimmering eyes added a layer of palpable attraction to her overall perfection.

The moment was the perfect time for her to finally kiss you, to break that distance, but she once again missed it as she collapsed and cried against your chest," I-I hear the people talk about me like I'm a monster." Natasha paused as she did her best to contain her devastation, but it was no use as she continued to speak in a cracked voice, "They used to chant my name, but now they all hate me, and I deserve it..."

You sighed, reluctant yet ready to console her, but she just kept going, "I hurt the one person I always vowed to protect." Natasha sobbed, but this one caught in her throat as she choked on the brutal honesty. "Oh God," her position shifted and she pressed her forehead against yours. "I never wanted you to hate me!"

"I do—."

"My love..."

"Natasha..."

"What have I done to us?!"

You groaned in frustration, "Are you done with the dramatics? May I speak now?" Natasha froze then squeaked out an mhm. Seeing her submit so easily nearly made you laugh, but this wasn't the time to tease. This was a time to fix what she recklessly broke, and to ensure she knew that to mend this took effort on her part. "Our foundation is undeniably cracked Natasha, but that doesn't mean we can't rebuild to a place of total equity. Remember that I am your partner, and not some consolation prize you can flaunt. You own my heart, yes, but not my mind or body."

"You still want me?" She asked in shock, and flinched as you sadly met her gaze and sighed, "I'm cursed with the inability to love another." Natasha smiled like a kid who just got out of time out, "So we'll rebuild?" You rolled your eyes and nodded, "Our castles very well crumbled but with time we'll build it even stronger."

"I'm so sorry," she tried, but you hushed her with a finger over her lip, tired of the words and more so ready for the action. "I forgive you, it is enough for me that you sobbed on the floor. What a filthy girl..."

Natasha's cheeks flushed and you once again found yourself amused, she was incredibly shy, and not at all like you'd pictured her to be from all the rumors.

"C-can I kiss you then?" You giggled, then allowed her to do so after a moment of recomposing. It was a bit sloppy, but you didn't mind, because she tasted like heaven. With how tentative she was to deepen the gesture you were under the impression that she wanted to slow down, maybe even wait for the wedding night.

After a moment of reprieve was taken you moved to sit you both up, her body forced to straddle yours so as to not fall off the bed. "Wait, please don't stop," Natasha pleaded, her hands connected behind your neck and suddenly she was that same nervous teen again, the one who ran from her feelings. "You're the one with all the experience here Nat." Natasha gnawed on her lip, and bowed her head in a mix of shame, and sadness. "I never kissed their lips, or let them touch me."

"Wait," you momentarily paused to process, "Are you?"

"I'm a virgin in the ways that count," she admitted with her gaze cast down at your lap to avoid your potential expression of judgement. "Look at me Natalia."

There was no room for disobedience, she knew that she was lucky enough to even have your forgiveness, she wouldn't dare try to test your patience as well. It was difficult, but she lifted her head, and her heart skipped at the sight of your soft expression. She felt silly for ever doubting you'd be kind—of course you would be.

Meanwhile in your chest you could feel the way your heart danced with excitement. Not only did you have a leg up on her with experience—thanks to Maria Hill, who made out with you for hours last fall after you'd drunkenly cried about never being kissed, but you also just found out she'd never been pleased by another. It stung less to know you'd be her one and only lover.

In the ways that count of course...

"I can lead," you smirked at the flash of understanding in her eyes, it was only fair that she knew, and honestly it served her right to not be your first everything. The same way you wouldn't be her first encounter, the way her nails dug into the skin of your neck said she got the message. "Who was it with?" The disappointment laced her tone heavily, even with as many times as she'd laid with another, she regarded a kiss more intimately.

"Why ask a question that will only hurt you Nat?" Natasha's jaw clenched, but she kept her temper at bay, not wanting to sound off like a hypocrite would. "It's important to me detka, I deserve this pain."

You contemplated answering her, but were too smart to fall for the bait. You realized that sweet old Maria deserved protection from your stewing bride to be.

"She is irrelevant, just a maid father had hired," you facetiously admitted, "Said that maybe if I learned how to clean from her that maybe I'd be a good wife... I am honestly not sure how he ever bagged my mother. In what world does a Queen clean the fucking castle?"

Natasha gasped, "Y/N, that's not very ladylike..."

"Fuck being ladylike," you mirrored a fond memory, and she couldn't help but to smile, but her eyes grew sad the longer the silence dwelled. "You've changed."

You nodded. "I had no choice. I had to grow up, and when I did I realized life is nothing short of cruel." Natasha hummed and nuzzled her nose to yours. "Does that bother you Nat, that I'm not the same innocent person? I always thought that was why you left..."

"No," she frantically spoke, "I was just being an idiot, too rebellious for my own good, and your heart being caught in the crossfire is my biggest regret to date."

"Biggest regret, hm?" She nodded. "Any others?" Natasha smiled bashfully, her cheeks turning redder than they already were from the current proximity of your bodies. "Not kissing you before the nth hour."

"I'm that good, huh?" Natasha laughed nervously, and you watched as the woman nibbled on her bottom lip. "It's okay to admit it Natasha, it's just you and me."

The redhead surged forward, her forehead collided with yours but you hadn't the time to care about the pain when her lips sought to devour your very own. You once again found your body pressed into the mattress, but this time her tongue took a calculated risk entering your mouth. Once she passed your lips she froze, the feeling and taste of you absolutely drove her mad, and she felt her underwear growing sticky.

Following a natural flow you found your naked bodies were soon pressed together, with your back against the queen sized mattress. Natasha's mind went blank at the feel of you, so she let you take over the kiss that had divulged more so into your collective sharing of breaths as you ground her pelvis down into your own with two firm hands on her silky smooth hips.

Natasha pulled away from your lips with a groan, her back arched and pressed her wetness into yours as she desperately craved more friction against her core. You were ready to grind her hips at a more brutal pace, but then she pressed your hands into the bed and kissed you roughly instead. There was no way she'd be selfish enough to take pleasure before giving you some first.

Her lips naturally traveled down your body, and with each nip of her teeth, or suckle to your bare skin she managed to pull the sweetest of moans from you. It drove her even crazier, her arousal literally dripped onto the sheets beneath her body but she kept her focus solely on you. To taste you was a dream that she had never let go of, and she'd no longer squander.

"Holy shit," you cried as her deft tongue lapped up the moisture that had collected along the slit of your core, it was the softest of stimulation but you still writhed. Having her mouth on your pussy just felt prophetic, her name dripping from your lips like a stolen prayer as she proceeded to dive her muscle deep within you.

Explore as you have, you'd never made yourself feel half as good as her animalistic tongue was doing, which was a bittersweet notion since this was where her obvious experience became a lingering thought.

The sadness dissipated fast though as she tipped your body into a state of unnerving pleasure, your body felt both hot and cold at the same time. The chill in the air had highlighted the beads of sweat on your skin, and sent a sharp shiver down to the base of your spine. It was all too much, and yet, somehow it was not enough.

Natasha greedily slurped up your cum, it was like she couldn't leave her place between your legs until you had stopped spilling for her, which consequently never happened because she continued to overstimulate you. It was only when your hand fought to slip from her weakened grasp to shove her bobbing head away that you were finally able to shakily intake some oxygen.

"I need more," she groaned, her wild eyes bore into your own as she hovered over you in a split second. Even with the overstimulation your thigh clenched at the sight of her hunger. "Please, I need you."

In a moment inspired by pure adrenaline you flipped your bodies and jumped off the bed onto wobbly legs. Natasha grunted as her back hit the mattress, her body was soon propped up onto her elbows so she could find out where you'd gone to in the blink of an eye. Only for her to be met with the glorious sight of you slipping a side of the strap between your puffy, cream coated lips.

Natasha fell back on the bed with a raspy groan being torn from her throat as the deliciously sinful image was permanently etching itself into her mind. Her entrance pulsed with need, warm slick trailed down between the plump cheeks of her ass and she whimpered for you.  You clumsily climbed above her, and pressed your lips to hers, feeling this strong urge to take control, but not knowing exactly how to do that, all you could really do was slip your tongue into her mouth and kiss her into a state of desperation. Her tongue was velvety, and tasted like a mix of something sweet and bitter.

"I-I want to taste you too Nat," you confessed, a bit too intrigued by the taste of you on her tongue to hold any patience, but the redhead also couldn't wait. "After, please, I need you inside now detka, I'm dripping!"

You chuckled softly, "That's a virgin hole angel," your eyes sparkled as you watched her skin flush even more, you would've happily waited the rest of the decade for this if you knew she was going to be so easily flustered. "You have to let me build you up to the stretch," you teased her hole with just the tip and she winced, but before you could pull away she firmly gripped your shoulders and gulped down her fear. "I can take it detka, I've been waiting for so damn long, fuck me."

"Beg," you flatly said, an air of confidence to you that the redhead found alarmingly attractive. "Tell me what you want baby, let mommy give you what you need."

Natasha's entire mind blanked, her eyes frozen in place as she stared up at your smirking face. Something inside of her was clicking, and she didn't know if it was her own desires or seeing you living out yours that got her so hot right now, but she didn't care. The sudden confidence radiated off of you and oozed out of her cunt, her pussy slick enough to push your strap out.

"Mommy please," her nails dug into your flesh and she angrily yanked your face down to hers, the tip and then some of your strap nestled back inside of her and she moaned her own interruption against your cheek. "I, fuck, mommy I need to be full, please, I need it so —."

Natasha's breath hitched as you delicately circled your fingers around her clit, then she huffed the air against your smirk as she sucked even more of you in. It was messy, and loud as her cunt sobbed joyously and her moans echoed throughout the master bedroom. In only five seconds did you have the ability to slip the rest of it inside of her, your lips sloppily landed on her chin as the strap perfectly curved against your walls. A gasp of joy left you both as your slippery cunts kissed, flaps rubbing as the both of your hips jolted in need.

Natasha's eyes rolled as your clit brushed hers, and a low rumble sounded in her chest as the swollen nub was electrified by the merest of grazes. The redhead appreciated the way your hips stilled, allowing her to feel out the stretch of her walls, but then you didn't move and her eyes fluttered open to ponder why.

You were nervous... Her heart absolutely melted.

"Just do what feels natural," she rasped, hands raising to cup your cheeks and pull you in for a needy kiss, her fingers slipped into the base of your hair and tugged, you could feel the urgency rolling off of her as her hips canted off the mattress. You both moaned into the other's mouth, it took you a second to recover from the stimulation; to build your confidence back up so you could properly fuck her like no one ever had before.

All it took was one involuntary twitch of your own hips, she moaned and you suddenly knew how to make this the best night of your lives. Natasha whined as you slid out of her, but then she squealed as you yanked her to the edge of the bed and thrusted right back into her.

"Oh god," Natasha cried, "Mommy it feels so good."

"I know baby," you panted, "Mommy loves feeling you, so wet I didn't even need to prep you for my cock."

Natasha's eyes rolled and slammed shut as she thought of what created the glorious mess between her legs; you—the way you moaned her name, how you tasted and what she wouldn't do to live between your thighs.

"I-I," Natasha couldn't speak, the pleasure building inside of her was unlike anything she'd ever felt before. Something she knew she'd only ever feel with you, heat spread from the depths of her pelvis to her heart as she imagined getting a second chance to love you, fairly.

You'd been here before, on the precipice of a release you weren't expecting. Your first time, when you used your strap with her portrait was a tad bit messy.

It felt like you were on fire, and like you needed to pee, but even with the potential of such a thing you couldn't stop the thrust of your desperate hips. It was heavenly. You wanted to see her wait, but not as much as you needed to be the reason she thinks she's dying. So you knew by the confused look on her face that she needed to be given permission. "You need to let go baby."

Natasha whimpered, but her body turned down the offer, it wasn't ready, something was missing.

Your hands firmly gripped the skin of her thigh and used your unexpected strength to push them up and into her chest. The new angle was optimal in bringing you both insurmountable amounts of pleasure. You had hardly any warning as her cum drenched your thighs, her walls held the strap still and caused your end to press even deeper into your sensitive spot.

The moan that left Natasha's throat was carnal, anyone within a hundred feet of the room would know that she just had her soul cleansed. Yours directly followed as your pussy spluttered against hers. They were short, and breathy, the heat of them fanned over her racing pulse point and her body shivered with aftershocks.

For a moment you both panted out of sync, yours were far less refined in comparison with the athletes. It'd made you insecure to think about, but the way her hands roamed over your curves was affirming. When she squeezed your hips and soft skin rippled between her fingers you could feel the way she loved you.

Her lips were on yours the entire time she'd been feeling you up. You nearly busted again just because her lips touched yours, there was not much urgency down below as you devoured her whole up above. Then your hips started rocking slowly, a natural rhythm of the game at hand, but then she whimpered softly and you pulled out of her puffy, glistening core. Tears fell from her eyes and you apologized as she thanked you.

Thanked you for fucking her so well that she could barely remember her own name, but she promised she'd never forget how to scream yours. She was overstimulated, but pushing you anyways, so you silenced her with the side of the strap that was once stretching out your tight, hollowed walls. Her eyes glazed as they rolled back, and you felt liberated.

A hoarse, “Oh fuck,” vibrated around the silicone and you chuckled devilishly, reveling in the foreign power, “Such a slut for a little taste of me, aren’t you kitten?”

Her eyes muddled even further and you felt godly. “Tomorrow you'll be sworn in as the leader of our merging kingdoms," you chuckled, "but look at how quickly you submit to me baby, that's concerning."

Natasha whimpered around the strap, and you smiled broadly. "There, there honey," you coo'd mockingly, tongue flicking over the salty tears trailing down her rosy cheeks. "Mommy will take charge for now..."

You continued to fuck her throat with the strap, it was mesmerizing to see her cry, her eyes glistening, sorta reminding you of a lively leaf beneath a raindrop. It was as if you brought her back to life, you could see the love uncovering beneath her outwardly guarded eyes as they bore into yours. Your Natty was reviving…

But her Y/N not so much, there was an unfamiliar darkness that surrounded you. The love you held for her was there, burning bright, but she could see the unresolved pain trying to dim it, the darkness controlled you and the tenderness was broken, as if it was simply switched off. With every thrust the redhead now gagged, there was a bit of vengeance in your eyes as you drew the reaction from her. You were truly enamored by the experience, you watched as her drool trailed down the sides of her chin and coated the skin of her jawline, staining her with a mix of you and her.

The longer you watched the more interested in getting a taste of her essence you became. Without removing your gaze from hers you lowered your head, tongue flicking out to lick up what you could of her essence, but it had dried some under the rooms dry breeze. It only made sense for you to sink down, the redheads eyes widened in shock, or alarm—maybe it was both.

The warmth of your mouth did the trick in softening her slick, and you moaned at the taste as she gagged, her end being now pressed beyond her throats tight hole. She spluttered as she felt the painful stretch, one would think your goal was asphyxiation, but as she focused on your softer gaze she was able to mirror you as you breathed through your nose. Even in her hazy state it was clear to her that you’d done this before.

Envy gripped her heart as she realized you were the first person to drink from the well she deemed hers. Bittersweet solace wrapped around yours in the same blink of time, you were still so unsure about trusting her again, but you fought the temptation to run. If she was truly back, you could find it in you to stay as well.

Once your lips met you stayed still, the air was charged with a need for more, her green eyes begged for you to kiss her truly, but you made her wait a breath longer. Then you slowly pulled back, your own mess of drool slid down the strap and into the hollows of her cheek. As much as the redhead wanted reprieve, and you, she also found some comfort in the suckling of the plastic.

Once you reached the tip you gripped it with your teeth and abruptly pulled it from her mouth, trails of spit, cum and blood followed and your eyes widened some. But Natasha’s were unwavering as she pulled you down and into a kiss that gave way to her every single fear.

The redhead flipped your positions and pressed even further into you, her lips firmly kept their rightful spot against your own, and the two of you made out like there was no plans for tomorrow. Her love and your pesky frustration bled together as your tongues met.

Natasha wanted to keep going, but it was too much to ask of either of your bodies, so she pulled away after her lungs gave her no choice, and fell on top of you. Silence followed, aside from the soft, labored pants of a job well done. It was eventually Natasha that broke it.

"We've done everything backwards," she whispered against the skin of your throat, you'd barely heard her from where she'd burrowed, but you fortunately did. "That's the price to pay for all other parties decisions."

"I-I was just so mad," she morosely admitted, "they made decisions for us that only we should have."

"I know," you acknowledged with an edge to your tone, discussing this was likely going to be charged with the anger that only just began to settle down in your heart.

"I was upset too Natasha, because I dreamed of the same thing but they tainted it with their diplomatic nonsense. It felt spiteful, as if they knew what I was only just discovering. Using my feelings against me, and then, what I didn’t expect was the next day when I woke up to find you suddenly didn’t want me around.”

“That’s not—, Y/N, of course I wanted you around…”

“Your actions said otherwise, and they only left me shattered and then the foreseen inevitably, alone."

"I am so sorry," she softly cried and you hummed, “I know,” your hand was rubbing her back gently in a soothing manner, your tone a little less on edge now, "I'm trying to forgive you Natty," you admitted, a bit of a fall back from your earlier spoken sentiments. In that prior heated moment it felt resolved, but the more you thought it over, the more you felt she'd need to work towards making this destiny work out harmoniously.

Natasha ached at the realization, no matter the way she preserved herself for you, it obviously wasn't enough. A juvenile thought coming back to bite her in the ass she supposed, but she didn't care about the consequences just as long as she had the chance to make it right. She would do anything to, no matter the cost, whether it be monetary, or her soul; she’d even kill another for you.

"Can I take you somewhere?" Natasha meekly asked after another bout of silence, you’d honestly thought she fell asleep, but she was stewing just the same.

The gala likely ended an hour ago, with your collective parents, yours most certainly begrudgingly, dismissing the crowds in your place, with some excuse, like your need for sleep as the wedding of the century occurs tomorrow. Yet you weren't sleeping, instead you were accepting the invitation from your fiancée, allowing her a chance to get started on fixing your relationship.

Which started with a sweet shower, she washed your body with care, the rag slid over your curves and the love you'd been missing was back as if it never left. A truth of sorts as Natasha only hid her abundant love.

Once the both of you were clean, she guided you over to her tub, and left you to soak your aching muscles for a bit longer in a bubble bath while she set off to plan.

Natasha rummaged through her wardrobe and pulled out a few of her fleece sleep linens. You walked out of the bathroom with only a towel for your hair and the redhead shamelessly stared at your gorgeous body.

"My eyes are up here Natasha," you reminded and she carelessly shrugged, "I know. I'm starting at your tits."

"If you're not ready for my hand in marriage," you began to scold in jest but the redhead swooped you off of your feet and into a silencing kiss instead. She softly laid you onto the fresh sheets and just as gently kissed down your body, her tongue ran through your folds as a tease and you choked on your breath. Natasha just wanted to taste you over the mint of her toothpaste. “I’m ready for everything the world will throw our way just as long as I get to taste your divinity, my queen.”

“Natasha,” you whined and pulled her up so that she could meet your glare, she chuckled as her lips gently pecked your own. “We’ll continue this tomorrow.” She winked, then made quick work to dress you in her navy blue pjs, kissing the skin of your stomach and under boob as she settled the fabric against your skin. Then she slid into her crimson set and guided you into a pair of boots before she helped you sneak out of the castle.

The two of you were hand in hand as you ran across the massive courtyard, nearly tripping over the wet grass while giggling like little kids as you approached the creek that held your fondest memories.  The moonlight was beautifully shining off of the murky water and illuminating your face just right. Natasha tripped as she was stepping over a root, and just as she came to terms with the incoming impact she was fine. Just when she was about to hit the dead shrubbery you hooked your arms beneath her armpits and yanked up.

"I'm already yours Natasha, there's no need to fall." You pushed her petite, muscular frame against the tree and she smiled as the memory of a lost opportunity passed through her mind. Part of her regrets not kissing you back then, but most of her thinks the path that led her to you was just as it should be.

Her lips lovingly met yours, the both of you smiled as you felt the dynamic changing, it was as if all the stars and planets had finally aligned; destiny sealed shut.

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

For your bingo celebration can I request a pregnancy reveal with fem reader X Paul atreides where maybe after the movie reader and Paul have been trying for a baby and have been together for a while, so reader reveals by an outfit for his mother, and his mom saying I'm going to be the best grandmother, and Paul is shocked and is happy and maybe he proposes cause they've been together for ages and yeah maybe smut

.⋆｡Our Legacy｡⋆.

Paul Atreides x plus size reader

As the war between House Astreides and the other great houses plateau, Paul and his lover endeavour to continue their great line

Warnings: pregnancy, fluff, mentions of the events of Dune part 2, reader is technically Paul’s concubine since they aren’t legally married, little bit of smut, breeding kink, some angst, vague mentions of struggling to conceive, Alia doesn’t exist WC: 1.5k

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

6k Follower Celebration

The orange light of a sunrise over Arrakis was truly one of the most beautiful sights in the universe. The entire planet seemed to glow under the haze of sand and Spice and Y/N couldn’t be more grateful to witness this miracle of nature each morning from her bedroom in the palace. But what she loved more was the ways that the sun’s rays caressed the naked skin of her lover as he slept next to her.

Paul’s pale skin perfectly reflected the early morning light, highlighting the curve of toned muscle along his spine as well as the silvery lines of scars from the many battles he had won. His face was peaceful where it rested upon her breast, his arms wound tightly around her waist. It was not common that he indulged in the luxury of rest, especially now that he was Emperor and dealing with the other great houses as they attempted to usurp his rule.

Y/N valued these moments far more than her lover ever realised; the quiet of early morning and the weight of his body against her own was a treasure that she could not ever bear to part with. Paul shifted in his sleep, his grip on the young woman tightening. Gently, she brushed her thumb over the crease in his dark brows and his restlessness eased, if only for a moment. 

“Why are you awake so early?” Paul pressed his lips to the swell of her breast, a lazy imitation of the occurrences of the night before. Her fingers twisted into his unruly black curls as he slowly kissed his way up her soft torso until the young Emperor was settled between her legs.

“How could I sleep any longer when such a beautiful man is in the bed beside me? You are far better than any dream Muad'Dib.” He groaned, his long eyelashes fluttering.

“You are a seductress my love.” She laughed as he gripped her naked hips, his bright blue eyes darkened with lust. “Perhaps we should continue our endeavour of an heir.” 

“Perhaps we should, it is our duty.” Her hands trailed down the expanse of his back while he delicately lifted her leg to wrap around his waist. Already, she was dripping onto the sheets beneath them. Paul tutted, his fingers gathering the ambrosia of her body before he pressed them to her sensitive pearl at the apex of her thighs.

“Then we shouldn’t let this go to waste.” The words had barely passed his lips when he finally breached her, his cock reaching the deepest parts of her. Y/N gasped and clung to his back.

“Paul!” He smiled against the skin of her throat before gently nipping at the thin flesh.

“That’s my girl, giving me my heir.” The cacophony of their moans sang out over the dawn of a new day.

——————

The heat of the afternoon steadily crept its way into the walls of Arrakeen, soon it would be too great to bear and both women would retire to their own chambers to cool off. Though Jessica was far more used to the heat than her almost daughter-in-law. 

Y/N cringed as she took another sip of tea. She had hoped the bitter taste would have grown more pleasant if she let the brew cool but it still turned her stomach. Her nose crinkled as she placed it upon the side table that had been brought into the room for her while she tried on new dresses specially ordered for her new position.

Lady Jessica looked up from her own tea with a curious expression. “Are you feeling quite alright?” 

Y/N waved off the reverend mother. “I think I’m just exhausted. I don’t think I was built for being the Emperor’s consort, I’m not a bene gesserit.” Her laugh was light but Jessica’s gaze didn’t waver. Her eyes, so similar to Paul’s, looked through the younger woman.

After a moment, Jessica turned her head and gestured to one of the ladies in wait beside the doorway. She immediately rushed forward. “Would you retrieve my son, I believe he should wish to see this next dress.” As the girl scurried off, another approached Y/N with yet another pile of fabrics that would somehow create a grand dress. 

She held back a sigh at the sight; all she wished to do was to go back to her rooms for a cold bath and then a nap, hopefully with Paul next to her. But instead, she slipped behind the privacy curtain, her lady following behind her to assist. “I thought I had enough dresses Reverend Mother.”

The older woman chuckled this time, her mood now somehow lighter. “I believe that you shall be needing more soon enough.”

Y/N gulped as the air was forced from her lungs. The constricting fabric pulled tight around her plush stomach, clinging to her curves like a second skin. This was so unlike the others she had been fitted for today, all were beautiful of course but they were elegant, conservative as is befitting for a consort. But the light green that now adorned her frame was far from appropriate for her position. Her weighty breasts were held up and practically on display as the neck of the dress dipped down almost to the base of her sternum. 

She looked down at herself with curiosity, something about her was different but she couldn’t quite place it. “You look beautiful my lady.” The young girl assisting her spoke up.

“She always does.” A deeper voice rang through the room, immediately setting Y/N at ease. 

“How nice of you to join us Paul.” Jessica looked up at her son but he didn’t even spare her a glance, his blue eyes focused on the screen that hid his beloved away from his gaze. She knew how deeply he loved her but in moments such as these, she was reminded of how Leto had loved her and she could only hope that her son’s story had a happier ending.

“I was invited and I never deny any opportunity to see my love dressed up.” Heat crawled up Y/N’s cheeks though it did not come from the harsh sun over Dune. 

“Well, I don’t know about this one, I doubt it will be even remotely appropriate anywhere outside the bedroom.” She muttered.

Paul’s laugh sent her heart racing. “I certainly wouldn’t object to that.” Lady Jessica remained silent, a sly smile spreading across her tattooed cheeks. “Come on, let us see this dress then.” 

Y/N took as deep a breath as she could without popping out of the top and stepped out. Paul’s eyes flicked to her bust before quickly travelling down the length of her body. His lust for her was clear, but so was his adoration. She went to cross her arms over her stomach but Paul gently grabbed her elbows, keeping his view of her unobstructed. 

“Something is different about you.” His hands travelled to her hips, then, when he didn’t find anything amiss, to her stomach. He cradled her like a poor man would a precious jewel, she was priceless, she was everything. She followed his movements with her own hand and although her lower belly was more firm than she remembered it, nothing seemed to be wrong.

“I feel it too, but I cannot place it.” Her free hand grabbed at his thin waist as if to anchor herself to him. Silent tension filled the air like Spice. There were only so many possibilities and to Paul’s cautious mind, they were only bad.

“I must say that I’m quite excited to be a grandmother.” Jessica sipped her tea, hiding her keen smile behind the clay cup. The two lovers looked at her, then each other.

“It can’t be, we’ve tried for so long and we haven’t been successful.” Y/N cried out though she did not know what for. Her lover, though, remained silent. His palm spread over her womb as his expression hardened. “Paul?”

He pressed harder and then suddenly withdrew his hand completely, his eyes wide. “It’s true, you’re pregnant.” 

“I-I’m pregnant? Finally?” 

“We’re going to have a child, my love. Our child.” Her arms wound around his neck, desperate to be close to her lover despite the scandalous nature of their affections especially in front of his mother. Paul rested his forehead against her own, their faces so close now that she could feel his lashes fluttering against the swell of her cheek. “I don’t know how I didn’t see it before.”

“You can’t know everything Paul.” She teased but instead of his usual eye roll or grin, Paul cupped her belly once more and took a deep breath.

“Marry me. I cannot stand another moment not having you as my empress, my wife.” He pleaded and just for a moment, Y/N could see the boy before Muad'Dib, the one who had never experienced pain or loss, just blind hope for his future and his family.

“How could I ever refuse you, you’ve owned my heart since the very first moment you looked into my eyes.” His lips captured hers in a kiss so filled with joy that she could not stop herself from smiling.

Dune would have its empress, its heir but Paul would have his family and they would have him. And he knew that he would do anything to keep them safe, anything at all.

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Dune

@cruelladejill @aoi-targaryen

[beegomess]

You Haven’t Seen My Man || Kendall Roy

Summary: Being Kendall Roy's wife involves giving up some things. However, working with you involves understanding that sometimes you may end up drawing more attention than he would like. But this is not really a problem for someone who loves to prove to be powerful all the time. Warnings: Cute, spicy with hints of implicit control - Word count: 8.3k

You were married now, but the story that united you was far from conventional or romantic. His brother and Kendall met in a rehabilitation clinic, sharing not only the fight against addiction, but also the weight of being heirs always pressured to prove their worth. The friendship between them was natural, and you, as a frequent visitor, became part of that bond. At the time, she hid that she worked as a legal advisor at Waystar, aware that the connection with the Roys could complicate things.

When both were discharged, you organized a celebration. It was that night that you and Kendall began to get closer. What seemed like an unpretentious friendship evolved into something more. You have become colleagues, friends and, finally, boyfriends. They were difficult years, marked by relapses of both and by Kendall's constant effort to get back up. Despite this, you remained together, supporting each other.

But the night Kendall asked you to marry him brought a devastating turn. You left dinner overflowing with joy to tell your brother the news, but you found him unconscious in your apartment. The overdose was fatal. What should be a new beginning also became the end of an important part of his life.

The devastating loss increased the pressure of your father, who wanted you to take on the role of CEO of the family business, something you always avoided. He also showed support for his marriage to Kendall, but his real intentions involved uniting families to strengthen his power, which filled her with revolt. Since then, you have kept your distance from your family, although his pressure has never ceased.

Kendall remained by your side, putting her own pain aside to help you get through the grief. Although the loss has never been completely overcome, it has become more bearable in the company of someone who understood the weight of carrying difficult memories.

When they got married, the lives of both fit in a surprisingly quiet way, considering the chaos that surrounded them. You chose to stay out of the power dispute at Waystar, which helped maintain the balance between work and marriage. Still, working under the same roof, with Kendall technically as his boss, brought challenges. Some tensions inevitably overflowed to domestic life, but you learned how to deal with it.

That morning was a perfect example of the controlled chaos that you and Kendall had learned to master. Since Logan's death, Waystar had become an arena of constantly burning egos, with Kendall, Shiv and Roman competing to make decisions while sewing the deal with Lukas Matsson. For you, the frenetic pace was nothing new. But that day, it seemed that everything was amplified.

Kendall had left early, leaving you with some precious minutes in bed that, although comforting, ended up devoured by the avalanche of messages and notifications on her cell phone. When he arrived at the office, he was already one step behind, and this did not go unnoticed. He didn't even have time to spend in Roman's room, where he and Lukas were gathered. Not that you wanted to get more involved than necessary - your role there was more strategic, and you knew exactly when to withdraw and when to act.

While packing the pile of papers I would need to discuss with Kendall, the phone on his desk vibrated. It was a message from him with a typical urgency. You sighed, already gathering what you needed, while answering a call from an external lawyer who seemed unable to understand something simple.

The heels of your shoes hit rhythmically against the carpet as you crossed the corridor. The sound echoed in the open spaces of the floor, a clear sign of his haste. In that environment, everyone seemed to be always watching each other, like animals in a corporate zoo.

When passing through Roman's room, he noticed Lukas gesturing at a glance, but did not pay attention. It was no news that he was there. Inside, Lukas interrupted the sentence itself when you passed, his eyes fixed on you long enough for Roman to notice.

- When I buy all this shit, will I have assistants like her? - Lukas shot, a cheeky smile curling his lips as his gaze lingered in the direction where you had just disappeared. The malicious insinuation was clear in every word.

Roman swallowed dryly, the discomfort evident in his expression. I knew Lukas well enough to know that giving any information would only increase his interest. But I couldn't just ignore it either. He needed to stop talking.

- Man, trust me, you wouldn't handle her. - Roman said, launching his typical mixture of humor and sarcasm. - She sees beyond the walls. You probably already know what you think before you open your mouth. It's fucking scary.

Lukas let out a short laugh, but Roman's comment didn't totally disarm him. His thoughts were still stuck in the image of you crossing the office, his hips moving with a grace that seemed almost calculated.

He knew he shouldn't be distracted, not at that moment, but something in you bothered him. It wasn't just the appearance - it was the aura of control, of someone who knew exactly what he was doing.

As Lukas turned his attention to the meeting, the malicious smile did not completely disappear. Maybe it was an exaggeration, maybe he was just bored. Or maybe there was something in you that challenged you, without you even knowing it.

You, on the other hand, were completely oblivious to any look that could be cast in your direction. Your mind was too busy with professional issues, and on the personal side, Kendall, although consumed by the obsession with being a CEO, found ways to devote to you all the attention she needed - and sometimes even a little more. He knew how to balance the two worlds when necessary, a trait that you secretly admired in him.

That same day, something not so unusual was about to happen. At work, you always maintained an impeccable posture. Seriousness and professionalism were practically their business cards. You knew the dangers of giving room to gossip or distractions in the corporate environment. But no matter how much I tried to keep things strictly professional, sometimes it was impossible to ignore the magnetic tension between the two of you. He had a unique talent for making you lower your guard, especially when Waystar's building was almost empty.

The day was exhausting and long, a whirlwind of words and numbers that seemed to dance in front of you from the moment you passed by Waystar's concierge. Now, with the floor almost empty and the sky outside dipped in darkness, you and Kendall were sitting side by side on the couch in your living room, trying to decipher the last barrier of a problematic contract.

Kendall's suit had already been abandoned hours ago, and the sleeves of his dress shirt were folded up to the forearms. He was more comfortable. You had also abandoned any formality: the heels were dropped near the sofa, the blazer had disappeared at some point in the day, and you now settled with your legs bent under you, in an almost intimate position, reflecting the tiredness and comfort you felt next to him.

The silence in the room was broken only by the sound of fingers occasionally typing on the notebook keyboard and exhausted sighs. It was Kendall who broke the cycle, rubbing her face with her hands and leaning back on the couch with a heavy sigh, the frustration evident.

You observed the movement, the way he seemed more vulnerable at that moment, and made the decision to end the torture that you yourselves were imposing. With a decisive gesture, you closed the two notebooks in front of you and organized the papers in an improvised pile.

- I think we've done enough for today. - His voice was low, but he had a quiet determination that he didn't dispute.

When you leaned over to reach the table, your skirt went up a few centimeters more, exposing parts of your skin. Despite the evident tiredness, Kendall's gaze automatically slid to you, a spark of interest lighting up in your eyes. He didn't say anything, but the smile that began to play on his lips delivered him.

You leaned back on the couch again, but this time, instinctively, closer to him. His hand went up to the back of Kendall's neck, his fingers tracing small circles on the tense skin, an affectionate and intimate gesture that always made him relax.

- Do we really have to go to his country house this week? - You asked, your voice low and almost resigned, as if you expected him to change something. - Can't Matsson be normal and just do a video conference?

Kendall opened her eyes, turning her face slightly in your direction.

- Do you need a vacation? Because that would be a bad moment. - The provocation came with a tired but sincere smile.

- Well, you couldn't stop me anyway. - You answered in the same tone, a playful smile illuminating your face.

Kendall tilted her head, the expression slightly challenging as she rested her hands on her legs, gently pulling them to be on top of his.

- You know I'm still your boss, don't you? - His provocation was accompanied by a light touch on his knees, his fingers slowly rising up the curve of his thighs, like someone testing the limits.

- Nothing like a good judicial process to put things in perspective. - You replied with a defiant smile.

He let out a low and incredulous laugh, his eyes shining with amusement.

- Are you threatening me? Because, just for the record, my legal group is the best in the country.

You couldn't contain the loud laugh that escaped, the sound echoing through the silent room. Kendall leaned over, his smile growing when he saw his fun.

- What? Do you think I'm kidding? - He continued, still smiling, but now his hands were firmly anchored to your waist, pulling you closer. You didn't notice the exact moment when you ended up completely on his lap, but there was, sitting on your legs, the heat of the bodies of you two filling the small space between you.

- You definitely wouldn't want to face me in a court, Ken. - You murmured, the lowest voice now, but still provocative, while your arms wrapped around his neck.

His hands tightened slightly on his waist, as if they wanted to record the moment in his memory. He tilted his head, his eyes sliding from his lips to the neckline of his blouse, which was now slightly more open because of the position.

You didn't have time to say anything else before he tilted his face and his lips finally met. The kiss started slowly, almost exploratory, but quickly became more intense. His hands slid from his shoulders to his chest, feeling his breathing accelerated as he deepened the kiss.

Some fingers slowly rose under your skirt, dragging the fabric with them, while Kendall pulled you even closer, gluing her hips to his. The movement was deliberate, provocative, and when he pressed you against you, you felt exactly what he wanted you to feel.

You grabbed the collar of his shirt, your fingers sliding down the open collar until you met the heat of the exposed skin, at the same time, his hands went up more, exploring his thighs without any hurry, but with a firmness that made it clear that he knew exactly what he wanted. When the lips parted, it was only for him to go down his jaw and reach his neck, where he began to distribute hot and possessive kisses.

You let out a trembling sigh when he found a sensitive spot near your collarbone. He noticed and lightly bit the area, a satisfied smile forming against his skin when he heard the sound that escaped from his lips.

- You have no idea how much I have to hold back when you wear this fucking skirt. - He whispered against her neck, his warm breath making his skin shiver.

You arched your body, tilting your head to give him more access, while he continued the path over your shoulders, his lips alternating between kisses and soft bites that made you lose control. Unhurriedly, Kendall slid her fingers through the fabric of her blouse, moving it away just enough to expose more of her skin.

- Much better this way. - He murmured against his collarbone, the hot breath making his skin even more sensitive. His hands returned to your waist, pulling you again against him while your lips explored the new piece of exposed skin.

You tried to answer, but your mind was a blur. His every touch seemed to set you on fire, and when he pressed his lips lower, near the beginning of your bra, you couldn't hold a louder sigh.

That's when a noise in the distance interrupted the moment. A low sound, maybe the creaking of a door or quick steps, made you freeze for an instant. Kendall, however, seemed to ignore it completely.

- Ken... - you call, between sighs, your eyes opening more attentively while trying to regain focus. He ignored it, thinking it was just one more of those delicious moans you let out when muttering his name. But your voice became more serious when you pushed his face away, still panting. - Ken, I think there's someone here.

He frowned, reluctantly, his lips still close to his neck while grumbling:

- So what?

You moved away a little, already restless, standing, your eyes trying to cross the darkness of the office beyond the glass walls. Kendall sighed, clearly upset, and accompanied you. He stopped right behind you, his hands automatically returning to your waist as he glued his body to yours, as if the situation were a mere detail that did not require any attention.

- There's no one here, dear. - He murmured in her ear, pressing his lips back on the curve of his neck, ignoring any sound or shadow that might exist.

You closed your eyes for a moment, almost giving in again to the warmth of his hands on your waist and brushing your lips that seemed to want to erase any remnant of your concern. But then the sound came back: something soft, like a hurried movement or the creak of a door in the distance.

- Ken, seriously. - You turned around, putting your hands on his chest, trying to stay firm. - Shall we go home?

He furrowed his eyebrows quickly, his lips curved in a carefree smile that only made it clear how much he thought you were exaggerating.

- Are you really getting me out of here? - he asked, tilting his head while looking at you as if it were a crime to leave things incomplete.

You laughed lightly, shaking your head, but before you could answer, he pulled you by the neck for a kiss, one of those that disarmed any argument. The plan of a quick kiss to convince him was completely lost when he deepened the movement, his hands firm on his waist as he pressed you against his body, with an accuracy that made you forget why they were still there.

Finally, he walked away, the satisfied smile still stamped on his face, and murmured:

- Let's go soon. - He took the suit thrown on the couch with the same energy as someone who wanted to shorten the waiting time, wearing it anyway.

You took the opportunity to take your bag, put on your shoes and turn off the lights. While the door closed behind you and you walked to the elevator, Kendall didn't waste time: a hand slid firmly to his ass, squeezing lightly while he commented something provocative with a cheeky smile.

The way back home seemed longer than usual, every second an agony. His fingers slowly went up his thigh, deliberate, squeezing and sliding, as if he wanted to test his limits.

As soon as the elevator of the building where you lived arrived, the silence between you seemed electric, the air loaded with tension. As soon as the door opened directly to the apartment, Kendall was already pulling you by the waist, closing the space between you as if there was no more time to waste. He pressed you against the wall next to the entrance, his hungry lips on yours, and you responded with equal intensity, your hands grabbing his hair, pulling him closer.

The corridor became a blur as he guided you inside, the two bumping into furniture as if every second mattered. When they got to the kitchen, Kendall didn't hesitate.

- Is this good for you? - He murmured, his voice loaded with sarcasm and desire, his chest pressed against his back, while sliding his hands down his thighs, raising his skirt without ceremony.

You couldn't answer, already completely surrendered to the firm and urgent touches. The kitchen, with its cold tones and the soft street lighting that entered through the windows, became the perfect setting for the outcome of the desire that began in the office.

__________________________

The days before the trip were intense and so full of commitments that time seemed to escape through your fingers. Kendall, you, Roman and Shiv were at a frantic pace, adjusting the last details of the proposal for Matsson during the flight. The atmosphere between you was focused, but Roman's constant interruptions with his jokes did not let the environment become completely wise.

The flight was long and silent. While most of you were immersed in papers or napping, there was a feeling of shared restlessness. You noticed this in Kendall, who drummed her fingers on the arm of the armchair.

When they landed at the small airport, the atmosphere of the destination welcomed them with a humid and cloudy cold. The surrounding mountains seemed to be covered by a thin fog, and the icy wind carried raindrops. Roman, when putting his feet on the ground, looked at the cars waiting for you and, as expected, made a comment:

- Oh, perfect. Who needs a helicopter when you can take an endless trip by car.

During the journey through the winding roads that crossed the mountainous region, the silence in the car was interrupted only by the sound of the windshield wiper fighting against the persistent drops.

When they finally arrived at the place, an imposing and modernist construction emerged in the melancholic landscape. It was isolated, surrounded by tall trees and surrounded by low clouds. Despite the discomfort caused by the cold and rain, the minimalist architecture seemed even more impactful in the scenery.

You and Kendall went out side by side, the body expression of both was neutral, maintaining professionalism. The tense atmosphere of the negotiation seemed combined with the gloomy atmosphere of the place.

Lukas was waiting under the entrance cover. Dressed casually, he seemed completely at ease, as if the hostile weather was just another characteristic of his nature. His eyes soon fell on you, analyzing every detail in a long and not at all subtle way. A brief smile appeared on the corner of his lips, something between interest and curiosity.

He approached to greet the group, extending his hand to Kendall first. Then, his eyes turned to you, and he tilted his head slightly, as if trying to evaluate who you were.

Kendall returned the greeting impassively, and you just kept the same professional countenance, corresponding to the handshake that Lukas offered. Despite not showing any visible reaction, you noticed his insistent gaze on you, as if you were trying to decipher your presence there.

His first impressions of that place ranging from something almost picturesque, ideal for relaxing, to a slasher movie setting. Dense trees surrounded the complex, its branches writhing as if whispering secrets. And the accommodations... Well, these brought a new meaning to "forced intimacy".

The rooms were small, surrounded by glass walls that led to the treetops - and to the rooms of others. There were no curtains, just a dubious concept of "integration with nature". Privacy seemed like a joke.

- What the fuck is this? - you let go, dropping your suitcase in a corner with a slack of disdain. - They put us in a matchbox with transparent walls.

Kendall, already taking off her coat, laughed low and shook her head.

- This guy is too weird to choose this damn place. - But the irritation on his face was obvious. He hated places that escaped the standard of impeccable luxury.

While you were removing your heavy coat, Kendall answered a call from Roman. He left his cell phone on the speakerphone on the table, and his brother's debauched voice took over the environment.

- Damn, are these rooms a social experiment? - Roman began, already with that tone loaded with sarcasm. - Who was the genius who decided: 'Hey, do you know what's going to be great? Glass walls among dysfunctional adults!'.

You suppressed a laugh while Roman continued:

- By the way, you can see you here. Yes, literally. So, please, do me a fucking favor and save the couple's little show for later. Seriously, whatever you do in that bed - I don't know, bite, moan, scream - I don't need a VIP window to watch. My trauma quota is already broken.

- Why don't you just look away? - Kendall replied, frowning, but unable to hide a smile.

- Oh, great plan, Ken! I'll just turn my head and ignore the erotic theater that you two may or may not decide to stage. Like, of course, super simple. It's like asking not to look at a car disaster.

Kendall just hung up with a sigh.

- He never shuts up, does he?

- It's a talent. - You laughed, dropping your coat on the couch and going towards the bathroom.

The bathroom was even tighter. You sighed when you entered, since it wasn't exactly the standard of comfort you were used to. His apartment in New York was practically a sanctuary, where not even a drone would be able to snoop.

The hot water ran down his skin, but there was no way to relax completely. Everything in that place seemed... exposed, at the same time as tiny. When you left the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, you found Kendall sitting on the bed, fiddling with your cell phone with a restained expression of frustration.

- What's wrong? - you asked as you went to your suitcase, taking the clothes you would wear during dinner.

Kendall dropped her cell phone on the bed and rubbed her eyes with her hands, the gesture of someone on the verge of exploding with their own thoughts.

- Nothing, just rereading some things. - He replied, looking up at you. The smile that emerged was subtle, but carried a malicious trace.

- What kind of "things"? - you asked, pulling a black wool blouse out of the suitcase.

He tilted his head, his eyes walking through you while you chose a heavy coat to complete the look.

- The kind that makes me think that we could pretend we got lost in this shitty place and skip this dinner.

You laughed, shaking your head while wearing your underwear, still feeling the remnant of lightness of the moment they shared. However, as soon as you and Kendall left the room and reached the main corridor, the atmosphere changed. Near the entrance of the hall, they found Shiv and Roman, and the air already seemed loaded with tension. As expected, Roman did not miss the opportunity to break the atmosphere with one of his jokes, full of irony.

- Look, the couple of the moment. - He said, with a crooked smile. - I bet dinner will be the preliminaries for what comes next.

You didn't stop, you just kept walking, your cutting tone escaping naturally.

- Roman, you're talking so much about it that I'm starting to think you're waiting for us to make love in front of you or something like that.

Roman went from surprised to angry, and you could hear the frustration in his voice.

- Fuck you.

You launched a victorious smile, without even looking back. You positioned yourself next to Shiv, following next to her to the table where they would sit while you listened to her tell you about the discoveries about Matsson.

The rhythmic sound of your heels and those of Shiv echoed through the hall as you walked towards the designated table. To the corner of your eye, you noticed Gerri and Carl sitting further down, engaged in a conversation that seemed casual. Gerri threw a polite smile in your direction, and you reciprocated, without thinking too much, before continuing to walk next to Shiv.

However, as soon as you passed, Carl leaned slightly towards Gerri, the unmistakable provocative tone.

- Still trying to make friends, huh?

Gerri kept the smile on his face, but the sarcasm in his voice was cutting.

- I still can't believe this bitch got so much power just by fucking one of Logan's children.

Carl gave a muffled laugh, his gaze dancing between Gerri and his figure, now on his way to the table.

- Well, it's not like you haven't tried something similar either, right?

Gerri sighed deeply, as if the conversation was more exhausting than necessary.

- Fuck you, Carl.

You, oblivious to the poison exchanged behind you, went to the table with Shiv, focused only on the dinner you were about to start.

Dinner was a mixture of forced formality and disguised tensions. The expensive dishes were served in silence interrupted only by the strategic conversations between the sides of Waystar and GoJo. You were calm, oblivious to any subtext that surrounded the table. He answered Matsson's questions succinctly when he tried to involve you in discussions about his area of expertise, remaining strictly professional. His clear and objective answers left little room for any other interpretation.

On the other side of the table, Roman watched everything with the usual restless attention. It didn't take long for him to realize that Matsson's eyes wandered to you more often than necessary. It was subtle, but it was there - the look that lasted a little longer when you spoke, the pause before he returned to paying attention to what Kendall or Shiv were saying.

He spent dinner rolling his eyes at himself. "Really, Lukas? Do you want to fuck her now? At a dinner? With Kendall right there?" He thought, trying to decide whether to intervene with some comment or just let the show roll. In the end, he remained silent, but the tension did not go unnoticed.

Dinner was over, and conversations flowed in small groups scattered around the hall. You ended up cornered by Greg, who, with his innate ability to turn any topic into an endless monologue, was talking about something that involved compliance systems and a documentary that no one else seemed to have heard of. You nodded from time to time, let out a "Is it really?", while thinking about how to get out of there.

Finally, you asked for permission, a polite smile on your lips, but in a hurry enough not to give him room to insist. The cold air outside was an immediate relief, and you pulled your coat closer, taking the silver cigarette wallet out of your pocket. The sound of the lighter breaking the silence was almost comforting as the smoke spread around him.

You were so lost in your own thoughts that you didn't hear the steps approaching until a low voice full of irony sounded behind you.

- Do you mind offering me one of these?

You turned around slightly, finding Lukas Matsson standing there, the smile half crooked on his face, the expression too casual to be innocent.

- Of course. - You answered, handing him the wallet and the lighter. He took a cigarette, lit it calmly, and the flame of the lighter briefly lit up his face before he released the first long puff.

For a few seconds, silence reigned, only the sound of the embers burning filling the space. So, he broke the moment:

- So, what's your story? Did they throw you into this last-minute deal or was it just a strategic move that no one noticed?

You let out a low laugh, bringing it again while answering:

- I don't think your team did homework as well as you think. - There was an ironic tone in his voice, but nothing exaggerated. - I've always been involved. I only prefer to avoid the spotlight when I can.

Matsson gave a short laugh, leaning more relaxed against the wall, but his eyes never left you.

- You know, that's funny. - he said, releasing another drag. - It seems that the more time I spend with you, from Waystar, the more I wonder how Logan kept this shit all together.

You kept a polite smile, but you didn't get more involved than necessary.

- He knew exactly how to deal with each piece on the board.

He arched an eyebrow, interested.

- And you? Is it just another piece... or is it the one who moves the others?

His words came loaded with a subtext that you preferred to ignore. Your smile didn't falter while you put out the cigarette on the stone guardrail in front of you.

- I'm more for someone who guarantees that the board remains whole.

Matsson laughed softly, shaking his head.

- Between us, if Kendall had introduced me to you before, I would have signed any contract he asked for.

You stopped in the middle of the gesture of putting out the cigarette, crossing your arms instinctively. The short laugh that escaped was dry, almost sharp.

- This is somewhat inappropriate, considering the context.

Matsson tilted his head, a smile that was half fun, half provocation forming on his lips.

- Don't worry, it just makes everything more... interesting.

The comment made something turn in your stomach. His disconnection from the seriousness of the situation was as absurd as it was annoying. For him, it seemed like a game, a casual provocation, but you felt the weight of the inadequacy. Taking a step back, you adjusted your coat with calculated calm before answering firmly:

- Well, I think I've spent too much time outside.

He didn't move, he just kept smiling in that almost defiant way, as if he was testing his limits. You turned around and started walking back, but the discomfort persisted. Even without looking, it was impossible to ignore the weight of his gaze burning on his back.

When he got close to the salon, he saw Kendall, and the relief was immediate. Approaching, you lightly touched his arm and murmured something quick. He nodded, casting a discreet look at you before continuing his conversation.

As you left the room, you could feel Matsson watching everything from afar, his eyes fixed on every movement. What did he think he was doing? The confusion hung over you as you went up to the room, trying to remove the discomfort of that interaction.

After dinner, when most people were already starting to disperse, Matsson called Shiv, Roman and Kendall to his office. The room was minimalist, with dark wooden furniture and soft lighting that seemed to cast more shadows than clarity.

Roman, as usual, did not miss the chance to make one or two comments that made him laugh, while Shiv kept a clinical look at Lukas' roles and words. Kendall was attentive, but calm, following each point with a meticulous focus.

When the subject of the agreement finally sold out, Roman was the first to get up, with

Shiv going right behind. Kendall, in turn, mentioned accompanying them, but Matsson's voice interrupted him, casual, but firm.

- Kendall, stay a little longer. I want to exchange an idea with you.

Kendall stopped halfway, looking at the brothers. Shiv hesitated for a moment, narrowing his eyes, but ended up leaving without saying anything. The door closed with a soft click, leaving the two alone.

Lukas went to the bar in the corner of the room, the steps deliberately slow. He took a bottle of whiskey and poured two glasses, handing one to Kendall before casually leaning back on the counter. His smile had that ambiguous quality - friendly, but provocative.

- You know, you have an interesting team. - He started, turning the glass in his hand. - A little... predictable, maybe, but interesting.

Kendall laughed low, almost automatically, while taking a sip.

- Yeah, they do what they need to do.

Lukas tilted his head slightly, his smile deepening.

- Someone from your team caught my attention.

Kendall raised an eyebrow, curious, but still relaxed.

- Really?

- Yes. - Lukas took another sip, savoring the moment. - An assistant of yours, I imagine. She tried to stay professional, but... fuck, what a woman.

Kendall laughed lightly, shaking her head as if the situation were an internal joke.

- I didn't know she was your type.

Matsson arched his eyebrows, as if he were facing something too obvious to be discussed.

- Are you slutty? Damn, the woman is fucking hot. I tried to start a conversation, but she didn't make it easy.

Kendall let out a more genuine laugh now, completely certain that Matsson was talking about Jess. He imagined the assistant, who always seemed shy and out of place, trying to avoid the company's buyer.

- Well, that probably blew her mind. This kind of situation is not exactly her strong point.

Matsson shrugged, the smile loaded with subtext.

- Maybe. But nothing that a little... persistence can't solve.

Kendall still laughed, not realizing the true focus of the comments.

- Okay, good luck with that.

Matsson raised the glass, as if toasting to the "challenge", but the malicious glow in his eyes suggested much more. Finally, he changed the subject, but the tension in the air persisted, hovering between the two as something that would not be easily dissipated.

__________________________

The next morning, as soon as Kendall appeared, Roman intercepted him right on his arrival for breakfast, looking more curious than worried.

- So, Ken, what did Matsson want with you yesterday?

Kendall sighed, already anticipating Roman's insistence. In addition to having been briefly frightened by the abrupt arrival of his brother.

- Relax, man. I won't sell the company without you. - Kendall answers with a light smile with a humorous tone.

Roman, however, rolled his eyes, impatient.

- What did he want?

Kendall hesitated for a moment, but ended up letting out a short laugh while lowering her tone of voice.

- No big deal. He just wanted to talk about an assistant of mine.

- Assistant? - Roman narrowed his eyes, his expression confused.

- Yeah, I don't know, Jess. He said he thought she was hot or something like that. - Kendall gave a light laugh. - Surprising, right? Like, who would have thought?

Roman blinked, the plug suddenly falling, and his expression became incredulous. He grabbed Kendall's arm, pulling him away from curious ears.

- Ken, are you serious? - Kendall frowned in confusion, with no answer to what her brother meant by that. After all, why would he lie about that?

Roman rubbed his face, as if he needed a moment to reorganize his thoughts.

- Man, I hate being the bearer of the bad news, but... he wasn't talking about Jess.

Kendall kept not understanding, already getting impatient.

- What the fuck do you mean by that?

Roman lowered his voice even more, but the tone carried all the drama that only he knew how to apply.

- He was talking about your wife, Ken.

Kendall's face hardened, the laughter disappeared immediately.

- What?

- Do you remember that day at Waystar? He saw her passing by and, fuck, I swear, the guy almost drooled on the glass of my living room. It was so uncomfortable that I had to invent something on the spot.

- And what did you say, Roman? - Kendall asked slowly, her eyes narrowed.

Roman raised his hands, half defensive, half cynical.

- I said she was your assistant, okay? I thought you were helping. The guy was literally looking at her as if it were dessert.

Kendall ran her hand over her face, taking a deep breath, as if she wanted to punch a wall.

- Did you say she was my assistant?

- Yes, because Lukas was one step away from asking for her number. You know how he is. I thought I was playing fair for you. I thought that, because I was an assistant, he would lose interest, I don't know.

Kendall closed her eyes for a moment, as if she was counting to ten.

- And now he thinks he can talk to me about it as if it were a trophy he wants to conquer?

Roman shrugged, casting an almost apologetic look.

- Welcome to the world of Lukas Matsson. He's a cretin with an ego the size of fucking Norway.

Roman patted Kendall's shoulder before walking away, but Kendall stood still for a moment, looking at the floor, clearly trying to decide what her next step would be.

The worst was not only Matsson's behavior, but what it meant. It was a constant reminder that he was, of his own free will, about to deliver everything: Waystar, ATN, the legacy that his family carried, no matter how sick it was.

Kendall tried to focus on work for the rest of the day, but it was impossible to ignore. Whenever Matsson made a comment that seemed on the verge of something inappropriate, Roman exchanged tense glances with Kendall, as if he was expecting an explosion at any moment.

And, of course, there was the ATN.

Kendall knew that selling Waystar was already a complicated decision, but including ATN in the package? That was simply handing over all the weapons to the enemy. With the presidential elections coming, the ATN was more than a tool; it was a weapon of influence on a large scale. Leaving that in Matsson's hands was giving him a power that not even Logan would have dared to deliver.

___________________________

That same night, Kendall finally consolidated his decision. He knew that Shiv would never support him in this plan, so he went straight to what really mattered: convincing Roman. Manipulating her brother, twisting the arguments until they made sense to both of them, was something Kendall did with the skill of someone who had spent his whole life watching Logan. And, like Logan, he felt no remorse for leaving Shiv out. She was brilliant, but also mercilessly practical, and at this moment, Kendall needed something more emotional, something that only Roman could offer.

The next day, the morning was tense, but Kendall barely seemed to notice. He maintained his professional posture, and when the right time came, he set up the scene. During the meeting on a mountain trail, he pressured Matsson with insinuations about the fragility of GoJo's numbers and the potential increase in Waystar's value. It was a dangerous dance, but Kendall knew exactly where to step to make Matsson hesitate. The plan was moving slowly, but accurately.

At night, after dinner, Kendall was visibly closer to you. Throughout the day, he had left small gestures of proximity: his hand resting on the lower part of your back while you moved through the hall, one arm on the back of your chair. It was atypical for him, and you were surprised, but you didn't complain.

Already in the room, the dim light of the lamp next to the bed barely illuminated the room, but it was enough to highlight Kendall's tense expression as he closed the door behind him. He walked up to you slowly, his fingers running through his hair in an automatic gesture of frustration, before letting the weight of his body fall on the edge of the bed.

- Roman is with me - he said, without preamble, his gaze fixed on the floor. He tilted his head to you, his eyes softer, but still full of concern. - That's already something.

You frowned, closing the book you had in your hands and putting it aside.

- Okay, but what exactly are we talking about here?

He sighed, rubbing his face with both hands before turning completely to you. When he spoke, his voice was low, almost conspiratorial:

- I'm going to screw this deal. Make Matsson give up even before he gets to the council.

Your stomach jumped a little with the confidence in his voice, but you kept the expression neutral.

- And how do you intend to do that? - he asked, hesitantly.

- Force the bar. Inflate the numbers. Throwing enough shit on the table until he thinks it's not worth it.

You were silent for a moment, processing everything he had just said. It was risky, of course, but the part of you who knew the game well knew it wasn't impossible. Still, there was something in his tone, in his gestures, that suggested that he wanted more than just his approval.

- Ken... - you started, but he cut you off.

- And you? Do you have another idea? Because, honestly, I'm open to suggestions.

He hesitated. Of course there was something - the letter that no one else seemed to be thinking about. But it was risky. Not only for Kendall, but for you too.

- It's not exactly conventional - you started, carefully choosing the words. - But we've done things like this before.

He raised an eyebrow, a small smile thrown on his face.

- Okay, before your father passed away he kind of chose the next president, didn't he? Maybe... If you ensure that one of the candidates wins, but on the condition that the agreement is barred...

- Politics? - He laughed softly, more out of disbelief than humor. - Are you suggesting that I use ATN to create a political advantage and bar Matsson?

- And why not? The ATN takes care of him being elected, and everything is very simple: an election for favors to Waystar.

He didn't answer immediately. He was just looking at you, his eyes loaded with something difficult to decipher, as if he was evaluating not only the weight of your words, but you whole. Then, suddenly, a slow smile formed, that typical Kendall expression when an idea consumed him completely. Without warning, he leaned over and pressed his lips against yours almost desperately, as if you had just delivered the solution to all his problems.

- Damn, I fucking love you. - He murmured, his forehead touching yours while a small smile still hovered on his lips.

You couldn't avoid a laugh, half surprised, half enchanted, but full of the lightness that he seemed so desperate to feel.

At the same time, in Matsson's office, Shiv entered with a confidence almost identical to Kendall's, carrying on his shoulders the posture of someone who knew exactly what he was doing.

Shiv entered Lukas Matsson's office with calculated steps, like someone who knew the weight of his own presence. He was at the bar, absently fiddling with a bottle of whiskey, but turned around when he saw it. A provocative smile appeared almost immediately.

- Oh, Roy who really knows what he's doing. What an honor.

She ignored the sarcasm, approaching with the usual posture: absolute confidence. Shiv knew he loved a power game and wanted to make him confused about what piece she represented on that board.

- We need to talk, Lukas. Of course, my brother is... complicating things.

He poured himself a glass and offered her another one, which Shiv accepted without taking his eyes off him.

- Complicating? - He arched an eyebrow, leaning casually. - It's a polite way of saying that he's trying to fuck with the agreement.

- Well, considering the circumstances, it doesn't surprise me.

Matsson tilted his head, interested.

- Circumstances?

Shiv turned the liquid in the glass, taking his time to choose the words. She knew that the next move would be crucial.

- Before we go for this, I want something from you.

He laughed briefly, surprised by the audacity.

- Like what?

- A guarantee that, if I help you, my place in all this will be solid. No unexpected turnaround, no last-minute change of plans.

Lukas blinked, clearly intrigued.

- Are you serious?

- Always. - She took a sip of the whiskey. - You need someone who knows how to deal with things... and I need to know that, at the end of this, I won't be just a pawn.

Shiv observed his reaction with a subtle smile, as if he knew exactly the direction the conversation would take. She leaned back in the chair, keeping her eyes fixed on Lukas, while he still seemed to process her proposal. She had the feeling that he was beginning to realize the weight of his words, but still not enough to accept the offer without question.

- And what are you going to give me in return, then? - Lukas asked, more genuine now, as if the negotiation had begun.

She didn't hesitate.

- Kendall. - The word fell like a silent command, and she watched him, seeing the surprise twinkle in her eyes.

- Kendall? - He repeated, the disbelief evident in his voice.

- I want you to keep him in control. I'll help you deal with it, keep it more... tied to the agreement. But what I need is to know that my role in your structure will be clear and definitive. I'm not someone who submits to uncertainties.

Lukas was silent for a moment, watching her more intensely now. He realized that the conversation was not only about business, but about power and control. Shiv wasn't there to ask for favors, she was negotiating something much more valuable.

- And what do you think I need to know exactly? - Lukas asked, leaning forward. He seemed to want to better understand what was at stake, but something in the way he looked at her said that he was also considering the impact of this for himself.

- Something about Kendall, of course. But also about who he has next to him. You know, his wife is not just another woman in the equation. She's... strategic. Before being Kendall's wife, she already had influence, an influence that is not seen in the media, but that is very real. Politics, maybe. Real power, not this spotlight show you love. And, of course, she was always his right-hand man, helping him get where he got.

Matsson was silent, his expression changing as he assimilated Shiv's words. He tried to connect the pieces, and the surprise soon turned into a smile of recognition.

- I'll make sure Kendall doesn't destroy the agreement. I'll help you keep him on the right track. And in the end, you'll need someone like me to make sure everything goes as planned.

Lukas was silent for a moment, evaluating her, before giving a low laugh, full of understanding.

Lukas let out a short and incredulous laugh, his smile widening.

- Damn, you Roy really hate your own family, don't you? - He said, the sharp sarcasm, but his eyes shining with something darker, almost fascinated.

Shiv tilted his head slightly, an ironic smile touching his lips.

Without saying anything else, she deposited the empty glass on the table with a slight click, keeping her gaze fixed on him for a moment that seemed to last longer than necessary. So, he got up with the calculated grace of those who always know the next move and walked out of the room, leaving Lukas with the trail of his presence and the sound of his jumps echoing in the silent space.

After Shiv's departure, Lukas Matsson remained motionless for a few moments, his gaze fixed on the door she had closed behind him. A slow smile formed on his lips, but it wasn't just satisfaction - it was something deeper, almost voracious. You.

Kendall's wife.

Lukas got up from the couch and walked to the window, the whiskey glass turning in his hand. He stared at his reflection in the glass for a moment, his breathing a little heavier. There was something electric, a mixture of irritation, fascination and a barely disguised excitement.

With a quick movement, he took his cell phone in his pocket and typed his name. In seconds, the information appeared: the first photo showed you next to Kendall at an event, the haugty look, a perfect smile, but distant. He narrowed his eyes, analyzing every detail of the image.

He moved on to the next photo. You alone, greeting some big guy at a formal event. Impeccable posture, wearing power as if it were a second skin. The almost non-existent smile was just enough to comply with the protocol.

A wave of irritation passed through Lukas. How had your team let something so grotesque pass? They had done a thorough research on Kendall and all his surroundings, but they hadn't realized that the person next to him was more than a wife.

Another article caught his attention, and he clicked. Your maiden's last name. Political connections. Zero direct involvement with the media, but an evident reach in other circles of power. Lukas laughed dryly, almost incredulous. You didn't need Waystar to be relevant.

He found another photo. You in a tight dress, walking alone to an event. Every line of his body seemed designed to exude control and elegance. Lukas pressed his lips, his jaw contracting. How did Kendall get someone like that? The thought hit him hard, a mixture of mockery and indignation.

He rested his hand on the bar, the smile on his face now a mixture of contempt and challenge. Kendall, with all her flaws and insecurities, had conquered something that seemed so out of reach. Maybe that was luck. Or maybe it was you.

The heat of the whiskey burned his throat, but it was not enough to relieve the tension that grew in his body. Every detail about you was like a piece of a puzzle that he wanted to assemble. How could someone so strategic, so imposing, be next to someone as pathetic as Kendall?

Leaving his cell phone aside, Lukas leaned back at the window, his gaze fixed on the horizon. You weren't just a challenge.

_______________________________

A/N: Okay, I know we ran over some things here, but I just couldn't contain my obsession, sorry!! 🫠

masterlist

xoxo, bebe🫶🏼💕

[throwawayasoiafaccount]

i’m genuinely shocked by this:

how can someone miss the point by such a large margin that they end up implying that Rhaenyra’s cause would have had no positive impact on the women of the realm?

how can one’s thought process be so far removed from the actual reality? is this the inconsistent logic one must tangle in to become a green? have these people never sat in a history class before?

jeyne arryn anyone? does she not exist to them? a point actually made in the book (not one twisted by the greens to advance their agenda) was that her rulership of the vale would’ve been seriously endangered and put into question if the greens won. but that is conveniently ignored by these interesting… folks.

i can understand the anger this person has with the horrible dance of the dragons adaptation and its treatment of female characters. and i mean it. especially when i say female characters. because alicent isn’t the female character who’s actually getting the shortest end of the stick. it was rhaenyra and rhaenys who were the most grievously declawed. rhaenyra is queen. her council is supposed to be her council. the war is supposed to be her war for her throne, not for some stupid prophecy that should’ve logically been lost a long time ago. and rhaenys is a baratheon with a temper and a dragon rider who would’ve burnt the greens and melted their bones if she had the chance. but for some reason the show decided to make a whole new character and slap rhaenys name on it.

to be clear: rhaenyra and rhaenys were powerful in their own right. they had dragons and were a part of the royal dynasty with claims to the throne. their power is theirs. it is derived from them.

alicent’s power is derived from the power of the men she is related to. that’s literally what the queen dowager title means. her influence is dependent on if the men in her life and her children listen to her. they don’t have to, and many characters don’t listen to her in the book, which is why i say she wasn’t the most grievously declawed.

it’s also hilarious that this person considers the queen dowager position to be the most powerful position in the greens court. they must have never read a cersei chapter as she faces her loss of power, which showcases the fickle nature of the power women hold in the westerosi patriarchy.

the correct sequence of power in the greens court is: the usurper king. then the hand. then the princes, specifically the usurper kings brothers, and then the queen consort, as they have dragons and claims to the throne. then the lords who can call on armies and fleets and have coffers that run deep. then the queen dowager, who has little influence outside of kings landing and therefore not as much influence in court as others.

the case the screenshotted post tries to make is that non-targ women’s positions aren’t advanced by rhaenyra being queen, which, as i pointed out above, is not true, nor is it what rhaenyra is fighting for. rhaenyra fought for her throne, which she had a legal claim to. that’s all. many houses joined her instead of joining the usurpers because of many different reasons, but, imo, three of the most important reasons for joining the blacks/staying neutral were 1) women’s inheritance rights (and women in general) should be respected 2) the head of the houses heir and the heirs right to inherit should be respected 3) oaths should be respected.

i also want to point out that women, most obviously targaryen women, did lose power after rhaenyra’s death and due to the concessions made to the greens and their ideology by the blacks for peace along with anti-rhaenyra propaganda that set women’s inheritance rights and the general power they could hold back by quite a lot.

and funnily enough, we see this first with jaehaera, who, while was a queen, was most likely murdered by the character who was supposed to be guarding her because no one gave a shit about a targaryen girls status and the potential consequences of killing her because they knew they could get away with it; and her death directly led to alicent’s line ending. the reality is that there were practically no consequences, as it seemed to have been easily covered up as a suicide, because the targaryens lost so much power after the dance, which directly put the targaryen women in the line of fire. if the targaryen women couldn’t be used they’d be discarded. and jaehaera, a simple girl who’s entire family was all dead besides one, and who’s father was greatly disliked by many, was an eyesore to those who wished for more power. so she was killed. brutally.

and the reason the women of house targaryen were so vulnerable? it’s because they had no claim to anything anymore! no one could try to use jaehaera for power so no greedy lords sought her favor nor did any want to protect her! and jaehaera is just the start because afterwards we get the maidens in the vault, then viserys ii is installed over daena, and then everything about naerys and her horrid husband, maekar over daenora, and eventually everything concludes with young princess rhaenys and rhaella over a hundred years later. tragic.

it’s literally downhill after rhaenyra’s death.

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 83 (Heather Loses Her Cool at the Courthouse)

Over a year after his arrest, John Brindleton's bench trial had finally arrived. After squatting in the Brindleton Light, confessing attempts to destroy the lighthouse and with it the local fishing industry, he faced charges of vagrancy, damage to heritage property, and conspiracy.

He risked several years in prison on the latter charges. The off-duty officer who made the arrest was the star witness for the prosecution, and Heather had come to Brindleton County Courthouse to support him.

"All rise for Judge Morrison."

The buzz inside the courtroom dwindled to silence as Judge Morrison entered the room. He did his usual preamble and urged the defendant to stand. "Mr. Brindleton, you understand these are very serious charges against you, sir."

The defendant nodded. "Yes, your honour."

"How do you plead?"

"Not guilty."

Once the trial was underway, the prosecution called Sargent Conrad Gordon to the stand.

(I almost put him in a suit, but he looks real good in his detective uniform and I overuse this look without shame!)

"Sargent, on the night in question, you were still a senior detective with Brindleton PD."

"That's correct, but I was off duty that night."

"What were you doing on Deadgrass Isle?"

"I was with my fiancee and our pets. We all enjoy the sea breezes out there. The station's gotten reports about strange things happening at the lighthouse for years - weird sounds, lights going on and off - and we walked up to the point. I'm naturally curious, but I wasn't really looking for anything."

No one needed to know he'd been chasing ghosts at the lighthouse that night. He wasn't the man on trial here.

"Then what happened, sargent?"

"Our dog's a trained K-9 and we saw Mr. Brindleton jump out a window in the gatehouse. Gord took off after him and he hesitated just long enough for me to catch up. I reached for my badge and he attacked me. When I subdued him, I started to get his story."

"When did he confess to wanting to destroy the lighthouse?"

"After he admitted he'd been living in the lighthouse once he was kicked out by his parents. He wanted to destroy the fishing industry so he'd never have to work it, and also get revenge on the competitors who put his father's fleet out of business."

"And you had already placed him under arrest, so he knew anything he said could be used against him."

"Yes. My fiancee saw the whole thing and gave her statement. It's in the exhibits."

"And what was the state of the gatehouse when your detachment entered the premises that evening?"

"Squalor. There's no working plumbing in the lighthouse but Mr. Brindleton said he was afraid of strays dogs and wouldn't go outside. He said at home, someone cleaned up after him, and he was still getting used to doing it himself."

"No further questions, your honour."

On cross-examination, John Brindleton's lawyer leaned against the desk. "Just one question. Showing your badge before an arrest makes the action legal. And yet your whole department followed your lead without so much as a thought to your breach in duty?"

From her seat in the back of the courtroom, Heather glared at the defense attorney.

"I brought it out after he attacked me and I'd subdued him. It's in the exhibits."

"Your Honour, this trial is a sham!" A grey-haired man in the front row, behind John, shouted at the judge and a murmur started.

"Order! Order in my court!" Judge Morrison bellowed. "Mr. Brindleton, silence your gallery! Your family name got you far in this town, but I still find you here before me like any common defendant. You will not turn my courtroom into a circus."

Once Conrad stepped down from the stand, each side paraded a few more witnesses before the judge left to deliberate. Character witnesses described the defendant as an aimless man from a crooked family. In less than an hour, Judge Morrison found John Brindleton guilty.

His sentence was five years plus time served, and the spoiled legacy heir faced the prospect of prison with fear in his eyes. It had all gone wrong for him; his lack of ambition and zest for revenge both cautionary tales. He hugged the grey-haired couple who'd roused the courtroom earlier - his parents, George and June Brindleton, whose only child was headed to prison.

Heather and Conrad put on their coats and stepped outside. On her way down the courthouse stairs, Heather accidentally ran into Mrs. Brindleton. "I'm so sorry," she said apologetically. June looked at her with sad eyes and Heather wasn't sure what else to say.

"You!" George Brindleton whipped around when he heard Heather's voice and zeroed in on Conrad. "You destroyed our family!"

"Sir, I was just doing my job," he insisted. The grey-haired man marched up to him angrily.

"The Brindletons built this place!" shouted George. "That statue right there? That's my great-great-great-great-great-grandfather Silas Brindleton! And you, a scummy little cop! You made this town he built a home, only to destroy his entire legacy?"

"I'm sorry you feel that way, sir. But we brought you in for questioning and you were evasive with everything you were asked. Beyond that, I can't talk to you about your son's case."

"Conrad, what's going on?"

"Heather, it's fine. Why don't you go start the car so we can pick up the kids?"

"Is this your fiancee? Wouldn't it be terrible if someone destroyed your legacy in return for you ending mine?"

"Mr. Brindleton, if you're threatening me, we could always open a new investigation into the financial activities that really put Brindleton & Sons Fishery out of business."

"I didn't threaten you at all."

"What the hell are you saying?" Heather approached them, wild-eyed. "You want to come after me and our kids? I'm right here! Why don't you try me?"

"Heather..."

"No, I'm sorry, but if he wants to threaten the kids he better believe I'll be in the way!" She turned back to grey-haired George with a growl, as his grief-stricken wife joined their circle outside the courthouse. "You think Conrad destroyed your family's legacy by doing his job? What about you? Your son had nowhere to go when you kicked him out. The last thing he wanted was to carry on your family name and your crooked business. You could never hope to measure up to Conrad if you tried."

"Heather, it's alright."

"The only person responsible for tearing apart your family name is you, Mr. Brindleton."

"Watch yourself, girlie. You don't want to open a can of worms. Fish love worms."

Conrad's blood boiled. Some days, he wished he wasn't an officer of the law. Anyone else could have punched George square in the face, and he certainly deserved it - even before he threatened to turn his fiancee into fish food.

"Are you done yet, George? Every single one of our family's problems can be traced back to you and your gambling." June grasped her temples in frustration. "I'll be in the car, and I don't want to talk to you for the rest of the week. I mean it."

"Heather, let's go."

George Brindleton followed his wife several paces behind, walking slow to have the last word with Heather and Conrad. "You think you know so much about how I lost my business? Wait until you find out exactly what the Brindletons can get away with in this town. Consider it one last gasp before our name fills nothing but gravestones in the cemetery."

Conrad wrapped his arms around Heather and urged her not to respond. Fighting a desire to claw the man's eyes out, she let herself relax in his arms until George was gone. Slowly, her hands stopped shaking. "Is he really going to come after the kids?"

"He's just upset. He won't touch them, I swear to the Watcher."

Heather took a deep breath. "I thought you were paranoid when you got those security cameras. Brindleton Bay's too safe, I thought. But after meeting that man, I'm glad you thought to install them."

"Let's just go get the kids from Mrs. Goth's before they accidentally meet the Grim Reaper."

"Maybe they're safer with Grim right now."

Conrad ran his hand through her hair, forcing a smile as guilt tore a hole in his stomach. Immediately after being threatened by a sorry old man wasn't the time to admit the cameras were meant to address an entirely different problem.

"I'll always protect you, just as much as we'd both protect the kids. I love you so much."

Heather sought comfort with a gentle kiss before they headed for the car, and Conrad smiled for her.

He was already stressed with work and hiding the search for Rafa Bonilla, and now he was forced to consider just how dangerous George Brindleton might be. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

NOTE: I need some more deco sims, clearly. I thought I downloaded three different sets of sitting decos, but only ended up finding one set in build/buy. I gather this is how I learn I need to avoid high poly decos? That's the only thing I can think of as to why they're not there!

NOTE 2: My courtroom scenes are nothing compared to @matchalovertrait's amazing courtroom series with Dulcetonio/Dulcetone! Totally inspired by your storytelling all the time, but I didn't have enough sitting decos for a jury so thank you for your talk about bench trials 😂 Saved me this week!

WCIF Brindleton County Courthouse? Thank you to @oimygiblets who found this build in the Sims 4 Gallery and also saved me this week! Newcrest Civic Building by SimJim24. It's not exactly the style of the town hall in Brindleton, but it has a tower and the same brick vibe. Suits the town. I added a founder statue in the front and some deco sims to the courtroom (all from @someone-elsa's Sitting Decos except for the lawyer at the podium which is actually a medieval deco sim by @nataliaauditore-blog) but otherwise left this lot untouched. I'm not sure how often we'll need to go to court, but I like having it for second saves!

[shepherds-of-haven]

oo, can't help but wonder, does blest have any equivalent to that of matchmakers? could an mc pre-prologue have gotten into a similar profession while keeping things lowkey?

Ah, good question! So matchmaking in Blest isn't really a huge profession: typically, if there's going to be any outside influence on a potential marriage, especially an arranged marriage, it's going to be on the couple's family members or elders as they informally (or formally) negotiate a betrothal, dowry, marriage alliance, or otherwise. In other words, these matters are typically managed "in-house" by a person's family members, so going to a third-party matchmaker is pretty rare. In rural communities, everyone knows each other well enough that there isn't really a need for a matchmaker, whether the couple just naturally falls in love or their families arrange something for a more practical-minded transaction; in noble circles, marriages are so politically-weighted that the plotting of them has to be left to one's family, parents, patriarch/matriarch, or otherwise, often months before an individual is even born--so there's no need for a matchmaker there, either. If a couple's compatibility needs to be verified, that's going to be decided well enough by the various social events they'll be invited to throughout their lives, though of course there are plenty of nobles who "play matchmaker" as a social status thing, not as a profession.

The Elves also have no need of a matchmaker, given the close and nomadic nature of traveling clans, and in fact they tend to abhor the very concept: they think matters of love should be left to the individuals in question, with no interference from external forces unless some harm is being caused to one of the individuals somehow. In most urban Mage cultures, marriage is often seen as like a bonus, a legal formality, or an afterthought LOL (life partners are culturally just as common as spouses), so matchmaking as a profession also never really took off.

There are three kinds of professional matchmakers that do exist, but are so rarely used that most of them don't do it as a full-time profession:

Hunters have a person called an eomgiye, which loosely translates to matchmaker but has different connotations, also akin to a kind of lawyer, priest, and diplomat. This person is used exclusively by First and Second Families to find good matches for their young scions and has to have an extensive knowledge of each First or Second Family in a region, their personalities, family values, their bloodlines, and religious/theological training. Aside from finding a marriage candidate for your son/daughter/heir according to a set of criteria (age, status, rank, personality, values), the eomgiye's job also includes ensuring that both families' honor is preserved, that any children resulting from the match will have the required pure blood to manifest grace, and that neither side is marred by a gross mismatch in status, wealth, or name. The eomgiye is given the power to check and research bloodlines in-depth, dating back hundreds of years, which is considered more seemly and polite than, say, your future father-in-law doing it himself out of the explicit concern that your blood isn't good enough for his son, if that makes any sense, as well as verifying that there aren't any crazy skeletons in the closet, scandals in waiting, or disastrous financial debts lurking somewhere in your family. All sides just find that hiring a third party to do all of this checking is more socially acceptable and composed, and the eomgiye is skilled in phrasing any conclusions extremely neutrally so no side is outright slandered or ruined. It's usually like: "For various reasons, this would not be a suitable match." The eomgiye is also responsible for conducting rituals (similar to analyzing astrology charts or something along that vein) to ensure that the gods favor the proposed match (no one wants a gods-cursed wedding or bad luck, though Halek privately believes this part is all hokum), and they also have to travel extensively and interview individuals in all of these different clans to keep their database on them up-to-date and relevant. Halek and Naolin had to have an interview with their eomgiye once a year growing up and hated it. Moonsilk, as you can guess, came as a suggestion by that same eomgiye, which is part of the reason why there's so much weight behind the betrothal and why it's so hard for Halek to get out of it.

The Ket also have something like a matchmaker, though this is considered to be more of a mediator, chaperone, and observer between a prospective couple meeting for the first time than someone who actually arranges the match themselves. This person, called a rendai, is almost always female, and is basically hired to facilitate the first meeting between the couple: her presence assures that all is above-board and decorous, but she is usually skilled in both making her presence nonintrusive and the couple more relaxed around each other. She might ask questions to help them gauge how they might get along, what they value or like--which is valuable for a Ket couple that might be shy or reticent. And, by observing their answers, behavior, and chemistry together, she can usually deliver a verdict after a few sessions (either to the couple or to the families hoping to arrange their marriage) of whether the couple could be compatible and happy in the long term or not. So this is more of a facilititator/mediator/wingwoman/relationship coach position than it is actively finding a match for someone: it's more checking or verifying a hopeful match than actively arranging it!

Finally, there are some Mages (Diviners) who specialize in a kind of matchmaking, where they also use their magic to try to see if a couple is compatible or meant to be together or truly in love or not. Like, you could go to someone like Mimir and ask, "Do we get married and are we happy in the future?" and she might be able to verify this through various divination methods, or she might be like "Uh I see you with a black-haired woman fifty years from now, and not this brown-haired burly dude, so I think not." There are also kinds of "matchmakers" that are really Enchanters or potion-brewers who advertise the ability to make someone fall in love with you, and you can go see them to increase your luck in love or get help in courting someone, but the effects are typically temporary, ill-advised, or dishonest. And the methods for the divination kind of matchmakers obviously vary, but between the fact that many people would visit the temple of Hina to accomplish the same thing (either by receiving the goddess's blessing or some sign that the match was favorable) and the fact the Hedgewitches and con artists sort of muddied these waters with all sorts of made-up tricks and snake oil, and the fact that visiting a Seer this way sometimes took the romance and mystery out of a relationship, this profession isn't as popular today as it once was.

Hope that's helpful! There are a lot of things your MC could have been before the game starts, though, so I think there's room for them to have served as a matchmaker in a larger town or city for the commonfolk somewhere and still not be known outside of that city, like a cutting-edge dating service for lonely singles in an urban environment, lol; it's just a rare and unusual profession to have and have been successful at, but not impossible! Definitely couldn't happen in a rural community or noble environment, though! Hope that helps!