#and there were so many times where he almost met her
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hardgum · 2 days ago
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Alright, I'm gonna rant one last time and repost this because it actually explains most of my issues with season 2. This is what I mean when I say that stuff gets too weird and suddenly anything is possible.
On one side you have magic, weapons, the environment, I don't know what to call it. This is important, because it sets the stakes. If that stuff doesn't get established to a point where I can roughly guess how powerful things are and how they can be used, then anything is possible. Viktor could've sent a gigantic skybeam down on Piltover and Mel could've ridden a magical unicorn to fly up and stop him and it would've been reasonable within the given lor because there wasn't any. An example that done better was actually Ekko's Z-Drive. It can rewind four seconds, nothing more, nothing less. There's no weird stuff where e.g. Ekko suddenly appears twice, and you're never left wondering "Why didn't he just go back further?" Because the boundaries were clear.
On the other side you have character motivation. This is what lets me connect to a character. This has been missing on so many parts! Just like the other post mentions, in season 1 even the most minor character like Huck had his motivation established. If he helps Vi first, why does he betray her later? Because he's shown to be weak and timid and shimmer makes him strong, so he's addicted to it! Now compare that to Maddie's betrayal. Maddie did it because she was... Evil? Heartless? I guess? Apparently she was just a tool for Ambessa just as she was a tool for the story.
Talking about Ambessa: What even was her goal? Weaponization of Hextech to use it against the Black Rose I suppose? She clearly wanted to protect Mel, but when Mel disappeared we didn't even get to see Ambessa's reaction! Ambessa generally felt like she was just there to cause conflict, like she just wanted to murder everyone in her way to take over Piltover... and then what? Fight the Black Rose? Who are they even? Honestly, up until the end I wasn't sure if they're actually bad, or just a resistance group that has resorted to dark magic and deception to take down Noxian warlords! It's still unclear actually...
Honestly, I liked act2 mostly for reuniting Vi, Jinx and Vander, and even that happened too quickly, but it still worked for me because of the build-up (you kow, for character motivation) in season 1. Isha also has no character, but at least we got to see Jinx connect with her like a sister.
And then there's Ekko, who's an interesting case. I didn't get disconnected from him, HE got disconnected from the plot! I understood his character for ep7, but when her returned in ep9 he was suddenly able to connect with Jinx despite not having seen her since their fight on the bridge only because he met an entirely different version of her that he liked in the almost perfect universe? And it's not even properly shown?! I get that it would move him to give Jinx another chance, but this made it seem like he suddenly understood her, even though AU!Powder has nothing to do with her. He just reappeared after months of being gone, he has no idea what happened and what state she's in! And then he says one proper line and it just cuts away.
Many people praised season 1 for often going the "Show, don't tell"-route, but season 2 was neither show nor tell...
Anyway, like I said, last rant to put my frustration into words, I'm tired...
what made season 1 so stunningly good was that every scene could be explained with stuff that happened on screen.
Why did Vi know where to find Vander after Silco took him? well of course because of Ekko who was established in the first few minutes of the first episode to be the character to be on look out.
Why did Powder follow the others to the abandoned building? why because she wanted to feel useful, she wanted for her stuff to work and she wanted to help. She wanted to not be the Jinx. This was all established through character moments that were natural and normal human interactions.
Why did Mel invest in Jayce? Why because first of all her own mother sent her away so seeing Jayce's mother stand up for her son must've hit her. And we see her talking about having to find new investments. Of course she would. He sounds interesting enough. Why not try it? If it doesn't work banishment is still on the table.
Why did Viktor help Jayce? Because he didn't want to stand in Heimerdingers shadow as just an assistant anymore. He was sick and knew the problems of the undercity first hand, he wanted to help. Of course he would, if there was a chance hextech could do it.
Why did Marcus continue to help Silco even after Graysons death? Why, because of his daughter or course. He could be threatened, molded and used. He wanted to establish big things, and was hasty in his youth, and we see 1. Silco exploit that and 2. Marcus regret that.
Why did a shimmer induced Huck help Caitlyn out? Why because as early as the very first episode in Vanders first speaking scene he gets help from Vander and well why wouldn't he then show that help for Vi, knowing he can?
literally every scene makes sense, everything can be explained with stuff that we SEE in the show. There isn't anything "off screen" or just not there.
Now tell me
Why did Caitlyn suddenly switch sides again in season 2 act 2? Why and how did Mel know that her brother wasn't actually her brother? Why did she know how to solve the puzzle? Why is Viktor suddenly floating in the universe? Why does Ambessa just ignore her daughter being abscent outside of that one throw away line? Why do Maddie, Loris and Isha exist? Every chatacter existed for a reason that wasn't just Plot even if they sometimes were just for Plot in season 1. But Maddie, Loris and even ISHA for gods sake, really are just Plot. Isha not as much as Maddie and Loris and thank god for that but still, her character, while I still hope it isn't true, existed to die and further Jinx's pain.
it's just so ugh
Edit: A lot (and I mean a LOT) of people have told me how Kino did make sense and I agree with that now. Though I stand firm with my opinion that we should've gotten to know him before so we could have figured it out even easier with Mel, there were actually signs I didn't notice myself before. Thank's for that.
Plus I will not back down on the fact that Mel just knowing the solution to the puzzle "makes sense cause sHe WaS ShOwn TO Be gOoD WiTh PuZZLes" is stupid. Yes, I know she is smart and good with that. But that's like a whole different thing. It's such a leap I don't know how some of you don't see it.
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drdemonprince · 3 days ago
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So I met a guy on a dating app. He’s also Autistic and we have a lot in common. Really hit it off and after some conversation he’s like To be honest I’m not looking for a relationship and I have someone else I really like but she’s not wanting a full on relationship either so we’re looking at ENM or maybe Poly but if that’s not your thing I understand. So I’m a bit disappointed but he’s sweet so I’m like ok let’s be friends.
Then it almost immediately gets sexual and we talk a lot about kink and fetish stuff that we seem pretty aligned with. Which is rare. We sexted a bit and it was great.
But today he told me he’s going on a date with someone. It’s actually a chick I also met off the the same app (I’m bi) but that didn’t bother me. What did bother me was that I got this instant reaction like upset that he was going on a date. It triggered something in me.
Not mad at all with him as he’s been super honest. But didn’t anticipate my own reactions.
So now I have to decide if I stop talking to him and let this go or if I try to move past it and enjoy the positive sides of our friendship.
We had tentative plans to meet in a few weeks time (we don’t live super close to each other). As a date but not a date.
Now I’m super confused about what to do. Especially as I really don’t meet many people that I vibe with and share similar “interests” with etc.
Just not entirely sure I’m built for the whole sharing thing…
Respectfully, it sounds like this dude fucking sucks ass at polyamory and doesn't know what the hell he's doing, and you're gonna get hurt.
First of all, he told you that he was poly because he is down bad for someone who doesn't want to be in a relationship with him? And so what, he's using his other dating partners as some kind of emotional or sexual stopgap?
That's objectifying and downgrading his potential future partners, including you, from the very start -- and it's setting you up to always be in the position of offering him temporary succor from the unrequited desires he has for this other person, only to be sidelined when she IS giving him a lot of attention. Sure, it's great he's being honest or whatever -- but the situation he's inviting you into is honestly disrespectful. You were disappointed to learn about this situation from the start. That feeling is an important signal! He's made it clear that he's not actually emotionally available and will NOT be consistent with you, and believes he has no reason to be.
It's also quite telling that after he established the nature of his relationship with this other person, he pivoted to getting very overtly sexual with you. This makes me wonder a lot about the woman he is pining away for, and what the terms of their relationship is according to her. (because if they're agreeing to get ENM or poly together, that's a relationship! Even if she says it's not a relationship).
Did she tell him that she cares about him but that she doesn't want to fuck him? Is she just less available than he'd like her to be, in terms of time and number of dates? What the hell is this arrangement between the two of them, how much of it was her proposal versus his idea, and where the hell do you fit in in all that?
If two people aren't fully sexually compatible and both parties want to explore sex and kink outside of their relationship to one another, that's fine; I'm living in that situation and it works great. But you have to approach prospective sexual partners with equal respect as you would your pre-existing partner (or whatever the hell she is to him, since they say they're not in a relationship?), and be clear about what you are and are not available for. It seems to me he asked you to be some kind of non-monogoamous, not-exactly-romantic-but-intimate "friends" with one another, and then tried to transition you into being a kinky sex partner once you expressed you could work with that.
I don't mean to remove your agency from this or act as if this is all something he is doing "to" you, because you expressed some interest in him and said the sexual connection is there. But... how much of this arrangement or how any of this is going has had anything to do with you or your stated preferences? Are you just going along with the flow because he seems nice and you want to see some possibilities there and for each new curveball he's throwing you, you're having to find some new way to justify it and make sense of it? What about what you want? What about your feelings? Why do you not get to determine what the relationship even is or where it is going, and he does? Because he's not getting what he wants elsewhere? That's not a good reason. That has nothing to do with you.
It makes sense to me, in light of what a mess his handling of this has been, that when you found out he was also pursuing other casual sexual partners that you felt jealous. Perhaps seeing him seeking out other non-committal, kind of formless sexual encounters with other people made you worry that you were being seen and treated by him in the same way, or that you were basically just a cog he was trying to slot into place for the time being. Or maybe you already felt on some level that you weren't given primacy in your relationship -- because this is a relationship of a kind! -- and now you have to worry about a whole other person who he has his own feelings for and agendas about altering how he relates to you.
You're not in the driver's seat in this relationship, hell you're not even really being consulted -- he's just making decisions about the various women in his life that he's trying to have meet needs for him and plugging them in and out of those roles as it suits him. The actual arrangement you all have entered into could be completely fine if all parties actively wanted it and had clarity and control over their own positions -- I'm a non-monogamous but *not* polyamorous person who dates people casually, and so i explicitly seek out others who are looking only for casual sex, that kind of stuff is fine -- but instead, this guy seems to be just making his choices up on the fly based on when he's horny, or lonely, or who is around and easy to get to.
I think you're giving a lot more latitude to him than he deserves, here. I'm not saying you need to dump him if you don't want to, if the sex seems like it could be fun you should go for it -- but on your terms. What do YOU want out of this connection? How do you see it? How much quality time, consistency, and commitment do you need? How comfortable are you with being non-monogamous and what kind of non-monogamy do you actively *want*? Do you see this guy as a friend? A casual partner (but a partner nonetheless)? A fuckbuddy?
There's a significant distance between you two, you two have been talking a lot, you call him a friend, and you call your plans to get together a "date." This is a relationship, whether he likes to admit it or not, and that comes with responsibilities to treat one another well and be honest, and to respect the other person's needs. And he doesn't seem to be showing any sense of responsibility toward the people he is in relationships with, and maybe doesn't even see them as relationships at all? He might seem nice, but the way he is navigating all of this is very selfish and instrumentalizes other people -- and so I think you should listen to that feeling you have of insecurity, because it's signalling that he's put you in a very insecure place.
Tagging in my homie @pastimperfection who always enjoys yelling about people doing poly badly
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labselkie · 3 days ago
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Labseal but Luce is Lyla and gets stolen. Based on some kids book I found
Machine Assisted Research Intern Engine. Stupid name for a stupid little hologram. for some reason this book’s Miguel is tje CEO of alchemax? Ao3 fanfic sounding premise but whatever. This is so unnecessarily long I’m so sorry. Not reading allat.
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Marie tolerated Miguel. If she were a weaker system, maybe she would’ve gotten attached, but she was the most advanced of her kind. She helped him, and he kept her up to date and charged. Mutualism was common in nature, she learned that by scanning over books that were nearly a century old uploaded into her database.
Inter-universe travel was being developed at an exponential rate, and Miguel was commonly out to assist other worlds on their work. “Web-Slinger, Earth 2038, he’s reported his guns are missing,” He said one day, leaving Marie at her small charging disk in his highly advanced office. He taps at the large screen of his watch, “You know the drill, keep the security up.”
It wasn’t uncommon for him to leave her, although the security systems in 2099 were forces to be reckoned with, she had been quite useful from time to time as backup. Her small holographic form sits against a keyboard behind her, a brow raised. She’s an odd little thing, faintly blue tinted in a short dress and a long fur lined jacket, her almost geometric curls make her look like she’s directly out of a game.
“Gotcha, you know where to call if you need me,” Marie’s voice is layered with a hint of static, but Miguel has grown used to it. With a nod and a swipe on his watch, a grand orange portal opens behind him, and he steps in without another word.
Maybe Marie would let herself shut down, get some rest before Spider-Man returned. In a quick scan over Alchemax’s security, she looks over the readings from other dimensions’ artifacts. There seemed to be one too many, but she could’ve sworn she saw Miguel bring something back from their last mission. She sits crisscrossed on her hardware disk, letting her eyes flutter closed as she leans her head back. She wouldn’t shut down her hologram just yet, however. She liked “existing,” enjoyed the feeling of being a part of the world around her. That’s where much of her intelligent capacity had been spent on, trying to appreciate life and cataloging emotions. She’s gotten much better at expressing the latter.
The faint sound of footsteps can be heard in the bowels of the office. Marie let her form flicker in and out of view, peacefully assuming that the footsteps just belonged to Miguel’s brother. The sound belongs to boots, but they aren’t heavy, they’re strangely light. Before her systems can process the intruder, a black glove reaches from between Miguel’s bottom monitors, phasing right through her hologram and grabbing her base disk.
“Hey! Who-“ Her form clips through the hand, and she pretends to hold on for dear life. She’s met with an unfamiliar face, accented with bright green tinted goggles and wild curls. They smile and flip their hand, sending Marie’s hologram to the other side of the disk.
“Look at you, how are you contained in this thing anyways?” The woman keeps her voice low as she takes slow, measured steps back away from Miguel’s desk. Marie quickly waves her hand to the side, attempting to bring up one of the small screens she’d use to help Miguel. “No, no, don’t try that.“ The other gloved hand comes up to flick Marie’s outstretched arm, “Did you seriously think I wouldn’t sever your connection? I could’ve sworn you were smarter than that!”
Almost alien tentacles rise behind the woman’s back, the end claw of one slithering down to tap at something on the side of her metal corset. Marie glances around, her programming spinning as she tries to take in the villain before her. Doctor Octopus, that’s all she could pin down before the hand on her disk squeezes and she’s forced to shut down.
Her world went dark, but her mind didn’t. Whenever she “slept,” whenever she was off, she could see into all the backups of her system, and there were a lot. But her little dream is cut off almost instantly, and she was shaken up by a clear difference in her surroundings, a clear difference in the very universe around her.
When Marie reboots, she’s met with sharp fluorescent lights and a bright white room. It was nearly the opposite of Miguel’s office, but its tech almost rivaled his. The room was messy, with out of place items lying here and there. Her hologram is lying flat on a table, and her hardware to the side. She’s trying to process her surroundings, but she’s unable to pinpoint the exact universe she’s been taken to. Wait, her hardware! Her hologram glitches when she stands, and she spins around to see that a hidden port on one side has been plugged into a desktop, one that’s much more modest than Miguel’s wall of screens. It’s just small enough be able to slip into Miguel’s watch, but it’s still susceptible to outside interference.
The doctor who took it is sat right there, her goggles pulled down to hang around her neck. “Earth 1620,” She says simply, sharp hazel eyes glancing down to the doll-like hologram on her desktop, “I’m sure that jump scrambled your circuits, hm?” Her hands leave the keyboard, and she rests an elbow in front of it. She’s in the same odd suit, soft green silicone with sleek latex, but now a lab coat has been haphazardly thrown over it.
“What is your problem?!” Marie raises her voice, the sound coming from both her glowing form and her hardware.
“Problem? I’m just curious!” Doc Ock snickers. She brings her free hand back to Marie, poking her harmlessly. The villain rests her cheek in her palm as she prods at Marie, her smile oddly radiant. “I’m sure Spider-Man has a few copies of you lying around, he won’t mind.”
He did, but Marie didn’t want to think she was just replaceable. She bats at the hand, and even though she only phases through it, she hopes the gesture is noticed. “Who even are you? I’ve only ever seen an Otto and a Carolyn.”
“Olivia, that’s who,” The answer is simple, spoken with a sense of purpose that Marie should’ve recognized. Olivia lifts her head to hold her right hand over the keyboard. “But I’ll give you all the data you need in a moment.”
“You know you can just tell me, right? Dozens of Spiders could burst in at any moment!” Marie gestures around at nothing, a strange hint of confusion in her mechanical voice. “Why take me?”
Olivia taps Marie’s head with just her index finger before lowering it to where her heart would be. “Because you’re the smartest little assistant in the closest hundred dimensions, and I could use some extra little hands. Besides, Miguel will come back home to one of your backup systems once he’s done finding those guns ten worlds away.” She clicks enter on her keyboard, activating what Marie can only guess is new code to override her hardware. It hits her like a shock, and she can’t help but let out a little shout. The “update” is instantaneous, and the main effect is obvious. She can feel.
“I’ve cut off contact to the Spiders, just because I won’t be hurting them,” Olivia smiles again, her expression not as malicious as Marie would expect. “And I’ve integrated you with the Alchemax systems, as well as with a few other devices I’ve borrowed from some Earths,” Now that Marie couldn’t call for help, Olivia was clearly much more excited to spill her plans to someone, or something. Clearly, she’s saving the biggest change for last. Her finger presses into Marie’s chest, but rather than phasing through, it stops. “And you’ve got touch sensors now, isn’t that neat? I found the code dormant in your system… I guess your ‘boss’ didn’t want you to get ahead of yourself.”
Marie, only being around the size of a phone, is clearly overwhelmed by the new sense. She brings her hands up to Olivia’s hand, her brows furrowing as she holds it. She can feel the faint weight of her jacket, the cool desktop pressing against the bottom of her shoes, and the painless touch against her chest. Her head is racing, if Olivia activated that code, what if she only planned to hurt her? It didn’t seem too bad for now, and there would have to be a way for her to disable it at times, but it was still worrying.
“How the hell did you access that?” Is all she can manage to ask as she still holds on to the doctor.
“You’re Alchemax tech, we’ve got similar systems in every world!” Olivia’s tone has lightened quite a bit, but she’s quick to switch back into that villain persona. She presses her finger in a bit more, her other hand hovering over the keyboard. “But I can track those systems, and shut them down just as quickly as I activated them. Neat, isn’t it? There’s loooots of old fail safes in case you ever grew self aware, but I suppose it’s too late for that, so I’ll just keep them remote.”
Olivia pulls away her left hand and types in a few more short commands. In a split second, a birdcage of Marie’s same color flickers to life around her. It’s clearly a hologram as well, but it’s tangible, at least to her. She grabs onto the bars, but they’re gone as quickly as they came.
“Why in the world would those be necessary now?!” Marie takes a few steps back, but not exactly out of fear.
Olivia just shrugs and rolls her eyes, “I can think of a few reasons, but they’re all quite… Out there.” Marie just frowns in response, and rather than being met with a new program, Olivia just fully turns to face her.
“Let me guess, you’ll lock me up if I don’t help y-“ Marie’s complaint is cut off, and she shrieks when Olivia scoops her up like a baby bird. She glows against the dark leather gloves, and for the first time, she doesn’t just fall through.
“Maybe, maybe not,” Olivia narrows her gaze, studying the blue tinted hologram. “I just wanted a new project, simple as that.”
I don’t think I’m going to be writing more for this, unfortunately. But while the book ends with doc ock being defeated and Lyla being saved. Liv was right in this au, she gets to keep a little robot doll while another version goes on as usual back in that universe. She also teaches Marie how to feel, in more ways than just touch, but I’m tired and can’t write that much rn
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inthesecretgardens · 1 month ago
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how I met your mother is so perfect
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huccimermaidshirts · 5 months ago
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ikeuverse · 3 months ago
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I HATE YOU — l.heeseung
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PAIRING: best friend's brother!heeseung x fem!reader  GENRES: fluff, humor, smut  WC: 10.7k+
WARNINGS: lots of swearing, arguments, mention of drinking, parties. reports of sex scenes, oral sex (f. receiving), unprotected sex (use caution and protection).
SYNOPSIS: you and your best friend's brother hated each other, almost as a matter of course between the two of you. but something changes when you wake up in his bed at the weekend.
NOTES: i think this story has been in my subconscious for so long, idk why it took me so long to write it. it smells a lot like heeseung to me, so nothing was more fitting than doing it for him. i hope you like it!
masterlist
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The rule of life is clear when you have a best friend and she has an older brother. Either you fall in love with him, or you don't get along with him and you both hate each other. In your case, more specifically, the second option would fit like a perfect glove. It was like a combo in your background to be best friends with Dahyun, and hate Heeseung, her brother. Not that you'd do it alone, he contributed to every ounce of your body boiling with rage for him.
As if he had been born to unleash the purest feeling of rage in your heart just by entering the room and breathing. But it wasn't as if you nurtured that alone either. Heeseung had the same great anger towards you because, according to him, it was because of you that Dahyun stopped being the innocent little girl she was.
It wasn't a good excuse compared to the times he'd taken you seriously. Still, even so, Heeseung felt angry just being in your presence and knowing that you went to his house and he couldn't do anything but make you angry until he heard you swear at him or try to throw something in his direction. Dahyun was the balance bridge to try to maintain an ounce of harmony between the two of you while you were all together, although it was almost impossible to maintain a pleasant atmosphere whenever you and Heeseung were in the same environment. Which was practically all day long.
There wasn't a single moment when you could get rid of him or he of you, because unfortunately – or fortunately – you were Dahyun's best friend. You met her before you even knew that your best friend had a completely asshole brother. He swore that Dahyun having a friendship would be a quiet thing because she was never one to have many friends. Heeseung would be lying to say that he wasn't looking forward to meeting the first person his younger sister had befriended after entering university.
He just didn't expect you to be introduced to him when Dahyun had her first binge at the frat party, with you holding her hair and introducing yourself as her best friend.
So it's this crazy girl who's my sister's friend? Heeseung's anger may have started first, but you certainly felt it more intensely as the months went by.
Heeseung always found you with Dahyun at insane moments, like the pool party where you lent your best friend your most revealing bikini. That night you threw him into the pool because you two argued, but before you could regret it, he pulled you in with him, getting you wet before you could show off your hours of hard work to maintain the beautiful, wavy hair that took so long to make.
War had been declared, and at every party you and Heeseung attended, something always happened to emphasize how the two of you couldn't stay on the same radar and in the same environment for so long.
Not this last time.
The remnants of last night invaded your mind like a little dream, where you knew it was far from a fantasyland. Friday night was party day at some frat house or at some rich person's house who could afford to buy drinks for a bunch of horny, partying college kids. You and Dahyun always went together, because at the end of the night, you would sleep at her house. And of course that happened. You just didn't expect to be in another Lee's bed.
You took a deep breath after you realized what had happened, remembering the exact moment when you argued with Heeseung. Nothing new for the two of you. But that night something seemed different about the way you and he argued about absolutely everything, like the amount of drink he poured himself. Or how you had accepted a drink from a guy who had handed you a glass because he was going to play and didn't want to drink anymore, Heeseung had scolded you for being reckless and, even if you were, if that had made him angry, then you had done the right thing.
But why were his eyes dark and shiny when he cornered you in the kitchen to swear at you? And why did you lean too far towards him when he tried to take the glass from your hand? The reason was canonized at that moment, with you wrapped in Heeseung's sheets.
The memory of his lips pressing down hard on yours to shut you up, your body almost turning to porridge when he softened to kiss you properly. And why on earth did you give in? Why did you kiss him back looking like you needed it? Your mind knew you did, but never, under any circumstances, would the two of you say that that need was blatant and that you were both waiting for what had happened.
Your thoughts were soon interrupted when a weight slid around your waist. His arms wrapped around you and pulled you close. You effortlessly felt Heeseung's chest pressing against your back. Your whole body stiffened for a few seconds but relaxed – without any explanation – when his hand rested on your stomach and his breath hit the back of your neck.
That breath you felt against your lips after he kissed you, as he whispered one last curse when he took you to his car and then brought you to his house. Heeseung's breath against your skin with every touch he made, with every kiss, sent shivers down your spine. You didn't want to think about the effects he had caused in just one night, while all those months later the only thing you felt for him was anger and disgust. But no, last night it was anything but that that you felt for each other.
You began to wonder how you were going to get out of there. Or worse, how you were going to bump into Dahyun and explain to her that, strangely enough, you had ended up in her brother's bed. It couldn't have been an accident because neither of you got drunk enough to blame it on alcohol, so what? What would you say when asked why you slept with Heeseung?
An involuntary sigh left your lips when he moved again, pressing you a little closer and nestling his face in the crook of your neck. Inhaling all your scent as if it were normal and he'd done it a million times before.
“It's not possible that you're actually doing this” your voice came out without thinking, not at all cordial or subtle as he continued to inhale your scent. You wanted to curse yourself even more as soon as you heard Heeseung's morning laugh. Rude, low, a real sin for your poor body that was processing everything that was still going on.
“What? I don't even get a good morning?” he asked in the same tone as the laugh and every word coming out of his mouth was truly a sin. You'd seen Heeseung after waking up countless times, but it wasn't as if you saw him seconds later as was happening now. Usually, it was a while later, his voice was normal at least, although his face was puffy from sleep and his hair slightly mussed. But it was nothing compared to what you were hearing at that moment.
“You're an idiot, you little shit” your hand went over his hand that was still on your stomach, trying to pull it away “I hate you, now let me go.”
As expected, Heeseung did the opposite of what you asked. Pulling you closer to him and, with the strength he was holding you with, he managed to turn you around and make your body face him.
“You hated moaning my name last night” he smiled with half-lidded eyes “Now why are you playing hard to get?” there was the Heeseung you remembered hating, even though he was so hot in a sleepy, lazy way. You held back with your hands to pull his face in and kiss him, messing up his hair even more and getting lost in those lips that were claimed as yours last night.
“Because—” your voice died right there, you had no answer to that. You didn't know why you were playing hard to get after having slept with him of your own free will.
The victorious smile on Heeseung's lips made you slap his chest, feeling the skin beneath your fingers. Remembering how you touched him and how he felt every shiver go through him every time your fingers slid across him and interspersed with your nails. Heeseung knew that some part of his body was marked by you, but he honestly didn't care.
Your eyes rolled down as soon as you noticed that he was shirtless, looking under the covers as much as you could. He wasn't wearing anything over it and didn't even seem to care about covering his chest when your eyes locked on the spot, your hands still gripping his chest ready to slap it again in case any silly jokes were made. But your face heated up when you noticed that, if he wasn't wearing a T-shirt, you were wearing his.
Heeseung noticed the way you recorded it all, and although it was amusing, he remembered how hot you had looked after putting on his T-shirt to sleep. With nothing underneath, just his clothes covering the curves of your body that he touched, kissed, and marked. And he'd be a dead man if he confessed that he wanted to do it all over again.
“You didn't like wearing my shirt?” he asked, breaking the silence that had settled between the two of you “Just take it off, I remember you're not wearing anything underneath anyway.”
“I hate you!” you let out a shriek, hitting him in the chest again before pulling the covers off your body so you could get out of bed in search of your clothes.
“Right, if it makes you sleep better at night, then I hate you too” he muttered, rolling his body across the bed to lie where you had been seconds before. Secretly smelling your scent on his pillow, as you searched for your clothes on his bedroom floor at that moment.
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Hearing about the fine line between modern and contemporary art history was wonderful for you, one of your favorite classes. The grace with which the professor explained it so passionately, highlighting important points that you made a point of writing down in your notebook with a lilac-colored pen that Dahyun had lent you at the beginning of the class. It took up most of your thoughts from the moment you arrived on campus, taking your focus away from the fact that a few days ago you were lying on Heeseung's bed. And now you were sitting next to his sister sharing one of your classes.
Your thoughts traveled to another subject now… Did Dahyun know that you and Heeseung had had sex? It wouldn't be something to hide from your best friend, having heard from her a few times that the two of you had some kind of repressed hard-on. Of course, that made you and Heeseung even angrier, but it turned out to be true last weekend.
Dahyun was right, after all, and you didn't want her to be. Or did you?
“Y/n” she called your name in a whisper, making you turn your head to face her “The boys are waiting for us in the study room, do you want to go now or do you want to stop by for coffee?”
Back to the normal schedule where you would have to live with Heeseung and try to put aside what had happened between the two of you. Or at least try to. Carry on with your routine and chores and not pay attention to him like you always did.
Class ended and you felt your body dragging alongside Dahyun through the corridors to the campus cafeteria. It wasn't a long way, but dividing your energy between the class and the thoughts that flooded your mind had left you tired. The salted caramel coffee you always ordered might have some effect on your body right now.
And you were more than right.
After paying for the drink and some treats, the straw rolled around your lips as you sipped the drink that was your comfort. You could hear Dahyun's laughter every time the taste of coffee impregnated your tongue and you moaned with satisfaction. The whole way to the study room was filled with these moments that the two of you shared as you sipped your drinks and tried to balance the takeaway bags.
“Am I seeing a mirage or did you bring food?” Jay almost knelt to thank you and Dahyun when you entered the study room.
“Are you guys hungry or something?” she asked, stepping in front and placing the bag of food on the small table around some cushioned armchairs.
“Our class finished early and someone forgot to stop by the convenience store” Sunghoon sat down on the floor, legs crossed and his face almost shoved into one of the bags to look for something that interested him. Finding a filled brownie, he took it without asking permission, even though he didn't need to.
“He's in over his head, isn't he?” Jake nudged Heeseung, who had been quiet the whole time since you and Dahyun arrived.
Looking at your best friend, you saw her sit down next to Jake as if it were something mechanized as if she had to be there without any kind of effort. It was cute how close the two of them always were. But your mind went into overdrive because as she sat next to him, the only seat left was next to Heeseung.
“What?” he asked, shaking his body at the slight shock Jake had caused him. Adjusting his posture in the armchair, Heeseung swallowed as soon as he felt a weight next to him, indicating that you had sat there.
“You forgot to stop by the convenience store to pick up some food” Jay grumbled “What are you thinking, man? You haven't answered us since you came to class today.”
Playing the misunderstood had been a mutual agreement with everyone in the room. They had seen you and Heeseung leave together, but if neither of you had mentioned anything, none of them would do it. Playing the game of not knowing anything about you and him was the best thing. At least until that moment.
“I'm just sleepy, don't fight me” Heeseung grumbled, stretching more than usual so that he could annoy you, as he had done ever since the two of you met. He could hear you taking a deep breath next to him, holding back a little so as not to swear at him before the study session even started.
Heeseung mentally thanked his friends for the lame excuse he'd given, because they all started to engage in side conversations as he slipped a glance in your direction. Your fingers held the coffee cup with a certain lightness, your thumb circling the cardboard that was possibly warm against his skin. Heeseung suppressed a smile, thinking about how your fingers had touched his body a few days ago.
He didn't want to think about anything involving the night you two had spent together, but even though it was recent, seeing you so close hit him hard. It was as if his mind betrayed him the very moment you sat down next to him and did the bare minimum to be noticed. There was no way Heeseung could think of anything other than you. The way you brought the cup to your lips and drank the coffee, for example. It made him think of your mouth kissing him, how easily your lips turned red as the kiss got more and more intense. How your mouth looked like the perfect shape of his cock when you wrapped it around you and sucked it, giving him the best blowjob of his life.
Fuck Heeseung, stop thinking about it. He told himself, or he'd get turned on just associating every single thing you did with the way he had you in his room, under his body, and in his bed.
The only way to make his thoughts go away and him not think like that was to irritate you, bring up the atmosphere of the argument you had with him, and thus get his friends to intervene and completely change the course of Heeseung's thoughts. And the way he thought was by taking the coffee cup from your hand, bringing it to his lips, and taking the last sip.
“Hey” you said loudly enough, trying not to shout because the study room was next to the university library “You ruined my coffee, you idiot.”
“I was thirsty, sorry” Heeseung pouted his lips, feeling the taste of salted caramel all over his tongue. He ran the tip of his tongue between his lips to wipe away any coffee residue. He just didn't expect your attention to be on his mouth. Without hesitation, your eyes traced the path of his mouth and the way his tongue traced his lower lip. That sparked something inside Heeseung because it showed that you were thinking along the same lines as he was.
“You're a real idiot” you said quietly this time, trying to look away as Heeseung bit his lower lip.
He leaned in a little but didn't manage to get close enough to tease you because he felt the famous slap on the chest that you gave him when he said something stupid. Ever since that morning in his bed.
“Ouch, that hurt” he cringed, dodging the next slap you'd give him. For the first time, the dynamic between you and Heeseung was a little closer and more physical. Usually, the two of you didn't sit near each other or you couldn't get there in time to hit him, Jay or Sunghoon always managed to hold you back first.
“Hey, stop it, you two” Jake broke off from an interesting conversation he was having with Jay, sharing a packet of sweets with Sunghoon in the process.
“It's not like you guys had sex at the weekend” Dahyun yawned, throwing the full weight of her head on Jake's shoulder.
“What?” you and Heeseung shouted at the same time.
Their eyes widened, their breathing quickened and their faces heated up as they looked at the four of them sitting in front of them. So they knew, but how? You and he had tried to be discreet the whole time, and you hadn't said anything to Dahyun, considering Heeseung's astonishment, showing that he hadn't said anything to his friends either.
“Come on, we saw you two leaving the party together” Jay sighed “We agreed not to say anything until one of you spoke.”
“But you're still fighting” Jake pouted.
“By the way” Dahyun squeezed the cup between her fingers, the coffee long since finished and she just needed something to munch on while she talked to Jake “I could hear you two when we got home” she looked at Jake for a few seconds, then at you and Heeseung. They exchanged frightened, embarrassed glances.
A hole could be dug right there that you wanted to bury yourself in and never get out of. There was no escaping it and no escape from your friends' looks and playful smiles. There was also no way you could face Heeseung after everything you'd heard, so your only way out was to make an excuse that you needed to go to the library to get a book to start studying. You left the room as quickly as you could and entered the door at the end of the corridor.
At least it was quiet there and you wouldn't hear any of your friends talking about you and Heeseung having sex, or about how they knew all along and didn't tell either of you. It hadn't been long since it happened, but you'd been with Dahyun all morning and Heeseung had probably spent a lot of it with some of the boys he shared a class with. So they waited for you to give them a break to say it out loud?
“Holy shit” you whispered to yourself, leaning on one of the shelves in a vast aisle of encyclopedias. Nothing there was of interest to you and you didn't necessarily need any of those books, but it had been the first aisle you'd found to enter and browse the various shelves in search of clearing your mind.
“It really is shit” the voice settled in your ears and went straight to your skin, sending shivers down your spine and making your heart race. Your heartbeat accelerated more than usual when you turned around and noticed Heeseung just a few steps away.
“What the fuck are you doing here? Go away!” you whispered at him, turning to one of the shelves to pick up any stupid books. If you'd never read encyclopedias before, that day could be your first. Then you'd be too busy reading and not paying attention to the boy who was slowly approaching you.
“I had to leave too, I couldn't stand that embarrassment alone” he said in the same tone as yours, stopping right behind you as he noticed your feat in trying to open a heavy book that had nothing to do with the classes you were attending “Besides, I came to tease you for being too scandalous” Heeseung's breath hitched against your ear, his lips almost kissing your skin.
You turned sharply, the book wobbling in your hands from the weight of it and the force with which you turned. But your reflexes were good enough to hold it steady while you stared at it.
“Me? Scandalous?” your indignation was palpable, along with your anger that was beginning to grow inside your chest at him and the arrogant smile he had “What do you mean?”
“That you moaned so loudly that my sister heard!”
“Motherfucker” you almost forgot you were in the library, wanting to scream in his face and curse him with every swear word you could think of “I didn't moan that loud.”
“Yes, you did” he said.
“No, I didn't” you answered back, not realizing that you had taken a step forward and leaned your body against his. Heeseung took the opportunity to take the book from your hands, the weight shifting to his arms as he put it back on the shelf. Now having full access to you and your body in front of him.
He knew you hadn't moaned out loud, not least because he managed to shut you up every time. Making you moan against his mouth or listening closely when your mouth was close to his ear, having the most beautiful moan Heeseung had ever heard in his entire life.
“On a scale of zero to ten, if I say you moan scandalously…” Heeseung began, his speech somewhat meek “How angry will you be?”
“Ten, obviously” you hadn't even hesitated to answer, regretting it the second he smiled.
“So you moan too scandalously” such a simple sentence, but one that practically tore away the last bit of calm you had with Heeseung. Not that it ever really existed, but at least you tried inside the library.
As if it was the right thing to do, you raised your hand to hit him as you had been doing so often in the last few moments, but he acted quickly. So fast that neither of you could process it. Heeseung's long fingers wrapped around your wrist and he pulled you against his chest, wrapping his free arm around your waist to press you down and give you no chance to escape. The warmth of his fingers against your skin made you hold your breath and close your eyes, almost like a memory of what was about to happen.
It was the perfect cue for Heeseung to lean towards you and touch the tip of his nose to yours. His breaths mingled and his eyes closed to revel in the sensation of being so close to you again.
He wanted to touch your mouth, kiss you, and be able to leave with you. To remember the softness of your lips and how perfectly your mouths fit together as if the two of you had learned everything from each other. Even though the two of you shared hurried, slow kisses, none of them were disproportionate or out of rhythm. You and Heeseung managed to find harmony and synchronicity in every movement.
“Oh, shit” Jay's voice made you and Heeseung break apart quickly, startled by the closeness and realizing that if the brunette hadn't arrived, you and he would have kissed right then “Sorry, I—”
“You owe me lunch for a week” Dahyun appeared beside him, smiling openly as her eyes landed on you and Heeseung. He didn't need to look at you to know that you also shared a confused, albeit frightened, expression as to why Jay and his sister were there in the library.
“What did you two bet?” Heeseung asked the dreaded question, opening and closing his fists and holding back the urge to touch you again, even if it was in front of the two who were still there.
“That you and Y/n would be kissing” Jay said “But the two of them never actually kissed, so I don't owe you anything.”
“Yes, you do!” Dahyun protested, pushing Jay out of the hallway and leaving you and Heeseung completely unresponsive.
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It would have been a smart idea to avoid going to any parties after what happened, in case you both regretted it. But that wasn't exactly it.
As the week went by, the teasing between Heeseung and you continued with a little more intensity, adding to the spice of what had happened between you, and now things had become a little more physical. Like him having to get too close to you and touch your hair after getting on your nerves, or how your hand wrapped around his arm – unnecessarily – so you could avoid Heeseung when he was near the kitchen counter teasing you before you left and went to his sister's room.
Things were getting heated and neither of you made any move to actually stop or that it wasn't affecting you anymore, quite the opposite. As the touching persisted or you paid too much attention to each other's actions, things got more and more complicated.
That was why Heeseung now found himself with a red glass in his hand, bringing it to his lips and feeling the bitter taste of alcohol go down his throat. He could have refused to go to that party after Sunghoon insisted, with the excuse that the class had been terrible. Even though he had slept through most of it. At least they were at Yeonjun's parent's house, the rich boy and Jake's friend who always gave up his house when the fraternities hadn't recovered after a few parties over a short period.
At least there was somewhere to sit, a room without too many people and the music wasn't too loud. The pool room that the boys usually went to when they wanted to escape the crowds, but didn't want to leave the party completely.
“Man, I love it when we’re here” Yeonjun sighed, sitting across from Heeseung and next to Jay “I wanted to run away from Stacy all night.”
“Is she annoying you?” Jay held back a laugh.
Talking about girls was the main topic when Yeonjun was around, and it wasn’t such a bad thing. Sharing experiences and even talking about how their current relationships were going, just as Jake made a point of praising Dahyun and how the two of them were getting along better and better. At some point in the conversation, Heeseung didn’t even bother to share anything, feeling shy for the first time. You had been the last girl he slept with, and talking about it, about the intimacy you two shared made him embarrassed. It wasn’t that he would brag every time he got with someone, on the contrary, the poor boy was the most teased because he rarely kissed a unit on the mouth at a party.
Maybe it was his chance to say that he had finally kissed someone after so long. But he wanted to keep it all to himself as if he felt jealous of sharing every detail about you.
“And you, Heeseung” Yeonjun called him as if he could read his thoughts. “Did you finally have sex?”
Sunghoon choked on his half-drunk drink, biting the plastic cup as he looked at his friend and noticed the shocked expression on his face. Yeonjun didn’t know anything about what had happened, especially since he wasn’t that close to you and Dahyun. He knew you two by sight and exchanged a few words because you were always around, but it’s not like he knew everything about you.
“He definitely had sex” Jake bit his lips to keep from smiling “Guess who?”
There wasn’t a single name that crossed Yeonjun’s mind, it was so difficult to associate Heeseung with anyone. Just like they associated Jake with Dahyun or Yeonjun with Stacy. Heeseung didn't have anyone on his radar, and the boys didn't know which girl had ever mentioned his name as a possible sexual companion.
A short period of silence fell over the room, and Jay's impatience quickly cut through.
"Y/n" he said.
“What?” it was Yeonjun’s turn to almost choke on his drink when he decided to take a sip of his beer. “Don’t you two, like, hate each other more than anything in the universe?”
I thought so, Heeseung had that answer on the tip of his tongue, almost wanting to say it out loud.
“So our dear Lee has a powerful dick” Yeonjun joked.
“Dude, we can ask Y/n if he has a small dick or not” Jay suggested.
“That’s cute, we’re finally going to know about his dick” Jake faked a cute voice, pouting and everything to get in on the joke.
“I don’t have a small dick, you idiots” Heeseung wanted to sound angry, although that joke was always there. Talking like that or about sexual performance with some girl… It would be disgusting if it was a conversation that happened often, but it wasn’t. It was just at times when they all wanted to escape from everything, to be in a universe where only boys existed and they could talk about anything.
A laugh filled the room before Heeseung or any of the boys could respond. Turning to the door, there you were. Standing with your hand on the doorknob and the other holding the plastic cup.
“Y/n!” Jay called out to you excitedly.
“Hey Y/n, is it true that Heeseung—” Yeonjun was interrupted by a flying plastic cup, hitting him in the chest as Heeseung threw it.
You had heard the entire conversation before entering the wrong room, looking for a bathroom to pee in. Your eyes scanned the room, seeing how relaxed and happy the boys were, far from those people you were starting to get bored with.
“Wrong door, sorry, boys” you waved and smiled at all of them, stopping your eyes on Heeseung for a long moment. Analyzing every inch of his body. Every piece of clothing adorned that man’s curves very well. Wide pants, white tank top, and leather jacket. A cardinal sin was that his hair was slicked back and the silver chain showing well above the collar of the tank top he was wearing. Luckily for you, the music was loud enough that no one could hear the force with which you swallowed when you noticed Heeseung’s collarbone was more exposed than usual. Waving to all of them, you closed the door as quickly as you opened it.
He tried to process what had just happened. Did your laughter indicate that you had heard the conversation, giving the boys room to think that he had a small dick? It wasn't possible… Heeseung couldn't believe it, even though it was true as he started to hear his friends making fun of your reaction.
If she laughed, it was because she agreed.
Does he really have a small dick?
Shit, Heeseung, she's teasing you.
He didn't want to hear anything from his friends anymore, the small flame of anger consuming him for teasing him like that in front of his friends. It wouldn't stay like this. Heeseung wouldn't let you get away with it, just like you almost didn't let him get away with it on library day.
Without time for goodbyes or small talk, Heeseung left the room in a hurry, opening the door and closing it without giving time for protests or for any of the boys to follow him. Now, in the middle of the small crowd in the hallway, he dodged some dancing and sweaty bodies, looking everywhere in search of you or his sister who, perhaps, could know where you were. Heeseung had a small spark of hope that he could find you before you went somewhere he couldn't find anymore. Or worse, that you started to feel tired and drunk enough to want to leave.
Running down the stairs, he reached the ground floor in record time, even with some people getting in his way. Heeseung walked from one room to the other, his eyes increasingly attentive to the people, scanning the place until he finally found you. Standing at one end of the table with glasses piled up in front of you, while his sister was at the other end with a few more girls.
“My turn to play,” one of them said, excited enough to grab the ball and throw it before it fell into one of the cups. She and Dahyun celebrated that you would have to drink, and from the look on your face, it wasn’t that good.
Heeseung took hurried steps towards the table, watching you take the ball out of the cup and drink all the contents inside.
“How disgusting” you stuck your tongue out, making a fake vomit sound before discarding the empty cup right next to you. “Now it’s my turn” but your turn didn’t come. Before you could even throw the ball into one of the cups in front of Dahyun and the other girl, Heeseung grabbed your arm and slid his fingers through your hand until he took the ball out. “What the fuck—”
“I need to talk to you” he said.
“Oh, that’s our girl, finally Y/n!” you wanted to ignore those comments, especially because Heeseung’s eyes were so intense and focused only on you. He didn’t care that the girls were joking about that situation, or how Dahyun was saying some teasing things in a playful tone. As if his gaze was capable of erasing everything around him and leaving only the two of you in the center of everything.
“Heeseung.”
“I said I need to talk to you, let’s go” he threw the ball to Dahyun, grabbing your arm again to get you out of there as quickly as possible.
Strangely you didn’t protest, just accepting the boy in front of you leading the way out of the party and through the front door. The air that hit your skin almost made you shiver, but Heeseung’s touch was capable of warming everything in your body without giving you a chance to feel the cold outside environment.
He stopped walking as soon as the two of you passed through the entire front yard, the sidewalk almost devoid of anyone around. Everyone was lying on the lawn or the porch, except for the excessive amount that was already inside Yeonjun's parents' huge house.
“What do you need to talk to me about?” you finally asked, letting your voice be heard by Heeseung after a while of silence between the two of you. He then let go of your arm, turning towards you to face you. Looking around a little, he wanted to make sure that he wouldn't be interrupted or, worse still, that someone would hear your conversation. People had a slight impression that you and Heeseung always argued, but the only ones who listened attentively to this were your friends and his sister. Heeseung didn't want anyone else to know about these little details.
“You heard the boys’ conversation upstairs, didn’t you?” he asked you. His tone was usually serious, but with a hint of anger that was always directed at you.
“Wanting to know if you have a small dick? Yeah, I heard you” you laughed a little, regretting it the second Heeseung approached you. His eyes were glazed over anywhere on your face, at least you knew where he was looking. His chest rose and fell in a rapid breath as he leaned in enough to be able to look you in the eyes without losing your attention.
“Do you find this funny, Y/n?” his low tone of voice never had any effect on you, on the contrary, it always instigated you even more to tease him. Smiling now and then, pushing Heeseung’s buttons when he seemed mad at you. But this time it was different, his voice seemed to fade away as he said things to you that way. The look still in your eyes, now falling to your lips “So you think I have a small dick?”
“I didn’t say anything about that—” you were quickly interrupted.
“Answer my question” he said “Do you think I have a small dick?” Heeseung’s hand touched your waist, pressing his fingers tightly against the spot before pulling you against his body.
You swallowed any sound that could come out of your lips so as not to give him the satisfaction of seeing the effect he was having on you. Your pride spoke louder at least at that moment.
Thinking of all the possibilities that could answer his question, something popped into your mind. The instinct of rivalry and fight between the two of you couldn’t end so soon, and you knew that a remnant of the old Y/n that started all this with Heeseung still lived inside you. So you did the right thing by whispering those words.
“On ​​a scale of zero to ten, how angry will you be if I say yes?”
Heeseung felt like an idiot for letting a smile appear on his lips so easily, especially because of you.
“We’re going home right now, tell my sister to go with Jake” he said, not taking his hands off your waist until he took you to the car and they left that party.
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You were both experiencing a little deja vu from the first night you were together, but something at that moment seemed to be a little slower. You arrived at the apartment without much of a rush because Heeseung drove carefully; the city streets at that time were not a safe place to speed, even if he was in a hurry. The silence in the building's elevator was not uncomfortable, much less the rustling of the keys when he opened the apartment door.
The path to his room was led by him, with dragging and slightly nervous steps – which you didn't notice and he was grateful – because you were equally nervous. The last time you made this path, you were in Heeseung's arms and with your mouth glued to his. Shy giggles and messy words were said as the two of you tried to balance each other until you entered his room.
When you entered the room again, the smell of Heeseung's cologne was still in the air. The same smell he had all over his clothes and inside the car, showing that when he had put on perfume a few hours before going to the party, the smell still lingered in the air. Your eyes searched around in search of some recognition, mentally cursing yourself for remembering practically everything. The shelf with trophies he had won, video games stacked perfectly next to each other, some dolls and superheroes. Nerd stuff that you had played with him for so long outside of that environment, but being in Heeseung's personal space and taking a good look at it was something new for you.
At that moment your thoughts flew to the boy in front of you who, delicately, wrapped his hands around your waist this time. The tender touch was a total opposite of what the two of you had been having lately, about everything that involved you and him. Heeseung pulled you closer, his forehead slowly touching yours, while one of his hands left your waist to touch your face. The touch of his fingers against your skin immediately made you close your eyes.
“Do you miss being here?” he asked in a playful tone, but the softness of that question made you wonder if you really missed being there. Even though it was the second time you had stepped into Heeseung's room under those circumstances.
“You're the one who misses having me here” you teased.
“Maybe so” he shrugged, smiling when you seemed surprised by his sudden confession, but you didn’t dare open your eyes. Shy enough not to be able to look at Heeseung while he was still caressing your face.
You had both consumed a little more alcohol than the last time you did this, but still, neither of you managed to get to the point of getting drunk. There was no way you could tell him that you drank too much at the games with Dahyun and the girls, and much less could Heeseung use the excuse that he was drunk with the boys. Again, you were both in that situation because you wanted to be.
“Y/n” he whispered your name, taking you out of the little trance where you could only hear your calm breathing and your heartbeats against each other due to the proximity of your body to his.
“Yeah” you answered.
“Can I kiss you again?” the first time he didn’t ask for permission in that scenario, Heeseung’s lips were simply against yours. But now, there inside his room, everything seemed different. All the tenderness and calm that you were strangely enjoying, while he didn't know exactly why he was caressing you so lovingly and asking permission for something he had already done.
“Yes, please” your answer surprised him more than it surprised you. You even said please, something that had never happened to him. Usually the only thank you you gave Heeseung or the only word of cordiality you said to each other was the famous good morning, and when Dahyun still insisted on the two of you.
Finally, Heeseung's lips pressed against yours, the soft touch of his mouth sliding over yours before he opened his mouth and urged you to do the same. Heeseung's chin slowly pressed against yours to keep your mouth open and enter his tongue into your cave, searching for your tongue and intertwining the two gently.
Although there was urgency in each touch, in how he wanted to kiss you and how you wanted to be kissed by him, something unsaid – but understood – was that you both wanted to enjoy that strangely pleasurable moment for both of you. Your hands went up to make contact with the collar of the jacket he wore, running your thin fingers under the leather before grabbing Heeseung's shoulders. Your skin against his made him sigh during the kiss, bringing you closer and walking with you towards the bed. Stopping only when his calf touched the wood indicating that he had reached where he wanted.
He was the first to stop kissing you, placing small kisses on your chin until he reached your jaw, where he lightly scraped his teeth and smiled when he saw the skin on your neck start to get goosebumps. You didn't want to be left behind, so your hands forced themselves on his shoulders to loosen his jacket and make it fall halfway down his arms. Heeseung grew impatient with that piece of cloth and soon got rid of the jacket, not bothering to throw it on the bedroom floor, wrapping his arms around your body again.
Heeseung returned with his lips against your skin, brushing whenever he could on every little spot before alternating with the tip of his tongue a short path down to below your ear. His breath so close was enough to make you go a little crazy more.
“We can—”
“We can do whatever you want” he told you, kissing the spot below your ear and returning to position his face aligned with yours. Foreheads together and feeling her breath hit his lips “Tell me and I will do it.”
It was your turn to kiss Heeseung, your hands holding his face to keep him close while his tongue wrapped around yours again. The perfect fit of your mouths and how the two of you, despite your need, didn't let go and didn't make a mess of it. Yet.
Heeseung picked you up just to lay you down on his bed, snuggling his body between your legs without taking his mouth off yours. He pulled away momentarily to breathe before kissing you again with even more desire. At that point you felt like you needed him even more, your legs wrapping around Heeseung's hips who, you could tell, was holding back from making any risky moves. Even though you both wanted that. But it was impossible to hold back any longer because of the way the kiss started to get sloppy and lazy. You didn't know that you could get even more excited by the way Heeseung's tongue moved against yours or how the softness of his lips remained even after you abused them for so long.
Involuntarily your hips rocked, feeling Heeseung's erection rub against your clothed pussy, making you both moan in sync.
“Fuck” he moaned into your mouth, swallowing another moan of yours as he pressed his hips against you so you could feel a little more of his cock.
“Heeseung” your hands ran down his arms, your nails making a reddish path against his skin as you marked him.
“Are you going to moan loudly now?” he teased, lifting his head to look at you. It would be typical of Lee Heeseung to comment on that while he had a hard-on and was between your legs, you should have imagined that.
“I think you need to keep your mouth busy and stop talking shit” you rolled your eyes at him, holding yourself back so that your arousal wouldn't turn into anger and you would hit the boy.
“Your wish is my command, ma'am” Heeseung smiled so seductively that you asked yourself countless questions at that moment.
As he slid down your body, taking off each piece of your clothing without your protest, you wondered. Heeseung always smiled mischievously at you, although the effects were always the opposite of what was happening. Maybe the vulnerability in which you and he found each other at that moment made you with your senses heightened, paying a little more attention than necessary. Of course, you saw Heeseung up close, in his most intimate form, just as he saw you too. So that would be a good explanation for why you felt strange when he, at that moment, directed the smiles that you knew so well, at you.
Looking down at the exact second that Heeseung took off your panties, you noticed how lost in thought you were at that moment. Did he undress you so quickly or were you thinking too much about his smile to notice that now you were both naked? It didn’t matter, the job was done and now you fought against your racing heartbeat as Heeseung’s face lowered to be level with your pussy.
As if asking permission with a glance directed at your face, you nodded slowly as he adjusted himself between your legs and placed a kiss on your thigh. His lips tickled your skin before sliding down to your groin and finally finding your pussy.
“Heeseung— shit” you held back a moan between your lips as the tip of his tongue touched your clit. Swollen and in need of his full attention which he was more than willing to give.
Heeseung wrapped one hand around your thigh, bringing the other to your pussy to part your labia and spread all your wetness on his fingertips. It was a sight he didn’t think he would ever see, but one he couldn’t stop seeing now. He needed to be in that position at least once a day, if possible. Heeseung’s fingers made their way across your pussy lips until they reached your hole, circling it before pushing in. He looked up, his face fucking gorgeous as you fought the urge to open your eyes.
He wrapped his lips around your clit to suck on your bundle of nerves at the same time his finger was inserted into your hole. The two sensations flooded you as you let out the most beautiful moan. It wasn't scandalous at all, on the contrary, it was low and sensual. A reminder of how Heeseung was making you feel with just a few seconds of giving your pussy proper attention.
Moving his finger inside you, he included another and the two began working in and out of your hole. The wet sound of his fingers fucking you along with the moans you were letting out made his cock throb. Heeseung felt himself getting harder and harder, aching and wanting to be inside you as soon as possible.
“Hee” you moaned that nickname that had been heard only a few times, but that was enough to make him want to hear it again. This seemed to motivate you a little more, because Heeseung inserted the third finger into your pussy and, leaning down again, he went back to kissing your clit and any other place his mouth could reach.
It seemed like the way he kissed your mouth, kissing your pussy so perfectly that you were going crazy. Your hands found their way into his hair, tangling a few strands without having enough strength to pull them out. You focused as much as possible on how well Heeseung was fucking you and his fingers curling inside your warm walls. It was the second time you had sex, but it seemed like he knew every spot on your body and how you should be touched.
Heeseung felt your hole tighten against his fingers, licking your clit more slowly, although the intrusion of his fingers into your hole wasn't that slow. He smiled against your pussy, lifting his face from there and crawling until his face was flush with yours. His fingers didn't stop fucking you even though his mouth was far from your pussy.
“Are you going to cum?” he asked in a deep and hoarse whisper, making you open your eyes and almost actually cum at that moment. His chin was covered in saliva and your wetness, making Heeseung even hotter than he looked.
You nodded quickly to him, bringing one of your hands to Heeseung's chin and sliding your thumb over the spots on his skin to clean it. Any other time this would have been kind of cute, warming both of your hearts with the act. Although he appreciated your care even if he didn't mind having a little bit of you stuck to his chin.
“I want you to cum looking into my eyes” he whispered “Can you do that?”
You had no way of knowing if you were capable of it, especially when his fingers started fucking you again so slowly, but so intensely. He made sure to go all the way to his knuckles, rotating and scissoring inside you with precision. Wanting to feel your warm walls enveloping them as he penetrated you. A scream burst from your throat when his thumb touched your clit, where his lips had been minutes ago. You moved your hips to match the movements of his fingers and that made Heeseung almost go crazy.
Your hands went back to touching his hair, one of them going to the back of his neck to pull his face close to yours. Heeseung kissed you to share a little of your taste on his tongue, to show you how addictive you were not only to the kiss but to the taste of your pussy that he was already starting to get addicted to. This was starting to get too much for you, the way he moved his tongue around as he kissed you to muffle your moans and the way his fingers filled you up nicely. A few more small strokes and a particularly hard press on your clit and you came undone, cumming all over his fingers and squeezing them like Heeseung remembered your pussy being capable of.
He held you throughout your orgasm, his fingers still inside you until your walls stopped convulsing and tightening. Slowly sliding out with all of your cum running down your fingers and into the palm of your hand.
“That was…” your words slowly faded as you noticed him pull away a little, enough for him to be able to place his hand between your face and his. The glow of your essence covering every little part of Heeseung’s fingers made your face heat up. It wasn’t the first time you had cum with him, but seeing it so close made you feel shy… You came all that and only on his fingers?
With an air of pride for having been the cause of it, Heeseung smiled before bringing his fingers to his lips and sucking every little drop of you. Fucking hot. He licked it all up with determination, just like he had done on your pussy until there was nothing left for him to clean.
“That was what?” he turned his attention back to you, a small smile on his lips as he leaned in again and now Heeseung's hips were pressed against yours.
Your pussy was still sensitive as his throbbing cock made contact with your folds. He let out a hiss, low and whimpering at the warm sensation that hadn't yet enveloped him. You wanted to surprise him just like he did to you, so slowly your lips enveloped his. A slow kiss to calm your heart that was still racing from the post-orgasm, but preparing yourself for what was on your mind as you felt him melt into your lips.
It was the calmness of Heeseung kissing you and the way you took his lips at that moment. Feeling the attention you gave to each caress, when your hands slid over his body… He just didn't count on how fast it was when you grabbed his dick and slid the red and sensitive head into your entrance.
“Y/n… Fuck, holy shit” he moaned. Being taken by surprise by the sensation, but unable to contain himself when he felt your hot hole envelop him. Quickly his hips pushed forward as if he was trained to do it, as if Heeseung needed to do it without thinking, just being close to your pussy like something magnetic to his dick.
In a quick movement, his entire dick was inside you, and you both moaned at the same second. You because you felt filled by his dick, killing the longing that was to have him inside you. That would never be admitted out loud. While he felt the warmth and sponginess of your walls enveloping every inch of his dick. A hot embrace that he needed more than ever. Another thing that wouldn't be admitted out loud either.
Heeseung adjusted himself, one hand resting on the side of your head while the other found its way to your hip. Supporting himself and squeezing the flesh of your skin as he rested his forehead against yours, looking deep into your eyes before starting to move.
You remember that the first time you two had sex, Heeseung practically fucked you. The force with which his cock entered and left you, the way he ate you out and you sucked him. It was an almost angry but needy sex, where the two of you poured out teasing and moaning. But this time was different. He also remembered the way you and he gave yourselves to each other the first time. How his hips tortured yours as his cock went in and out, hearing you moan his name so much that Heeseung could think it was devotion to him.
But this time he moved masterfully. Slowly and carefully, but each time his dick entered, Heeseung went intensely to the bottom, putting just enough force to make his dick enter you completely and reach the limit that was being in your pussy, reaching your deepest point. His dick slid perfectly inside you, combining his pre-cum with your fluids and the cum from the previous orgasm, all combined with the way he moved.
To add even more intensity to the sex, Heeseung remained with his gaze fixed on your eyes. His hand on your hip tightened as he managed to reach the bottom of your pussy or when your walls squeezed him at a certain point. He was on cloud nine every time your hole swallowed him and he felt your walls being slid by every inch of him.
“Y/n” the whisper of his voice made you mumble softly, as if answering his call and telling him that you were listening. Not wanting to say too much or simply interrupt what he wanted to say to you “That’s amazing” he slowly kissed your lips, the hand on your hip sliding down to grip your thigh “You’re amazing.”
He didn’t even care if it had been said that way or how you would react. By the way your eyes were soft on him, your mouth half open letting moans escape, Heeseung could tell you felt the same way.
“You’re an idiot” you whispered “But you’re amazing too, Heeseung” he chuckled against your lips as he kissed you again.
The sharing of each movement of your tongues as they danced in sync with his hips that were still moving against yours. His cock throbbed inside your pussy indicating that he wouldn't last much longer than that, although your pussy was addictive and he could fuck you all night. But Heeseung wasn't that strong when it came to you – at least not in the last week that he discovered what sex with you was like – so cumming was more than a necessity for him at that moment.
He quickened the pace of his thrusts, the sound of his pelvis hitting against your thighs quickly in search of the apex to share a little more intimacy. Heeseung thrust his cock into you fast, but with a certain care that made your chest heat up. And that was a combination of the overwhelming sensations that the two of you were sharing. His cock went to the limit, touching your cervix as he started and going a little harder and faster to fuck you with a little more need.
Heeseung rested his forehead against yours again, a silent plea that he wanted to see you cum with him or simply see your expression when the two of you came together. And with a few more strokes you felt the burning in the pit of your stomach. Your hands ran to hold his face, afraid that the two of you would turn away and you wouldn't be able to look at him while you came undone on his cock.
“Hee” you called him before moaning close to his mouth, sharing accelerated breaths before your walls closed around his cock, cumming hard. More than the first time on his fingers.
That was too much for Heeseung to handle, he wouldn't be able to hold back the feeling of your walls convulsing around his cock. Your cum slid all over his length and hitting against his pelvis. Heeseung felt his balls ache as he continued to pound his cock into you until he finally came. The hot and long jets of cum inside your pussy, hitting your insides hard. He moaned your name tirelessly as he continued to move in search of prolonging both orgasms.
For a long moment, the two of you remained in that position, trying to normalize your breathing, which was still more than accelerated. Heeseung held you as if his life depended on it, and so did you. Little by little, after your pussy stopped squeezing him and his cock stopped twitching, he slowly raised his hips to pull out of you. Both of you moaning together were almost no longer connected as before, he threw himself next to you on the bed.
“Don’t move” Heeseung whispered, although he knew you didn’t have the strength to do it. With great difficulty, he got up and made the well-known path to the bathroom outside the room. Thankfully, no one had arrived from the party yet, having the apartment just for the two of you. When Heeseung returned to the room, he had a small smile on his lips as he lay down next to you again, bending over you.
“What…” he seemed to have the power to interrupt you on the strangest occasions, catching you by surprise with unexpected actions. He cleaned you carefully, leaving no trace of the two of you between your legs, just like he had done in the bathroom with himself a few seconds ago. Heeseung discarded the damp paper in the trash next to the computer table, lying down next to you again and wrapping his arm around your waist. Just like he had done the first night you and he slept together.
But this time it didn’t seem so strange to you. What was strange was that you liked the feeling of having him so close like this, facing him and resting your hands on Heeseung’s exposed chest.
“So you…”
“Don’t say anything to provoke me now or I’ll hit you” it was your turn to interrupt him, making Heeseung laugh as he pulled you closer and hid his face in the crook of your neck. You didn't know what happened to you after Heeseung touched you, because every little thing he did made your whole body shiver.
“I was just going to say…” he whispered, his lips close to your ear, but with a subtle tone that was rarely – if ever – used with you “If you still think you hate me.”
“I do” you answered quickly. Heeseung laughed against your ear, lifting his face so he could look at you.
“Then I hate you too” he said back, pressing his lips against yours, but not kissing them like he always did when he was close enough to you. “Can we hate each other like we did today, then?”
It was your turn to laugh, making Heeseung feel strange now. His heart skipped a beat at the brightness in your eyes and the way you frowned when you were smiling like that. Was he paying too much attention or were the two of you close enough that he couldn't notice anything other than you and what you were doing? He wasn't sure.
“I think we can hate each other like this” you replied, seeing the small hint of happiness in his eyes and in the smile he gave you.
Pressing his lips slowly to yours, you let him kiss you so subtly like you never thought would happen. Because after all, you and Heeseung hated each other.
And you would hate each other the same way you did in his bed.
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© ikeuverse, 2024. do not copy, translate or steal my stories.
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swordgrace · 4 months ago
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𝐖𝐎𝐋𝐅𝐒𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃, 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃.
⠀ཾ༵ 𑁍┆ cregan stark x fem!targtower!reader.
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SYNOPSIS: as the youngest daughter of alicent hightower, you are wed to the young wolf, cregan stark. what many believe to be a union of strife, such a notion is proven wrong very quickly.
anonymous request.
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{ FORMAT: one-shot — requested by anon.
{ WORD COUNT: 6.7K.
{ WARNINGS: SMUT (mdni), arranged marriage, reader is a targtower with pale hair & lilac eyes, skin color unspecified, first time sex (for reader), loss of virginity, p in v sex (unprotected), massive breeding kink, all stark men have a breeding gene, oral sex / cunnilingus (fem!rec), face-sitting, biting/marking, making out, lots of touching, missionary position, talk of having a child, soft ending + aftercare
{ AUTHOR’S NOTE: There’s been a ton of Cregan requests, so I hope that this satisfies a lot of people until I post another! ❤️ Thank you all so much for the incredible requests and support of my work, it means the world to me and I am extremely grateful for all of it. See you guys soon!
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𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧, 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐟 — 𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞, 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐜𝐞.
The North was often regarded as a harsh and unyielding environment, with bitter, stinging winds and snowfalls that could bury men alive beneath their might. Such tales were often told to scare children or dissuade them from leaving the roost.
It was untamed and savage, according to your mother — she who vehemently fought against your betrothal to Cregan Stark, the Warden of the North and Lord of Winterfell. A marriage steeped in wariness and discord, you had been pleasantly surprised by your husband’s kindness and warm stoicism.
Piety was a rarity in the bleak, bloodsoaked world you lived within — innocence was a quality as uncommon as a diamond in the rough. When Cregan had been offered such a sacred proposal during the last days of King Viserys I, he nearly scoffed at it.
A Targaryen, a Hightower — he almost imagined that the both of you would not do well together, and that it would become a sour union, made only to please families and uphold duty. His advisors, old men with embittered grudges against the South, cautioned him away from it, imploring him to wed a girl from the Vale or the Reach.
When Cregan Stark met you, clad in pale shades of sage and ivory, with lilac hues and a smile that could melt even the toughest of ice, perhaps it would not be a dreadful marriage after all.
Even with a dragon at your heel, there was something positively resplendent about you — Cregan could feel it within his marrow, a feeling seldom felt by any man locked in an arranged betrothal.
It was your innocuous, tenderhearted nature that beguiled him, as if you unconsciously drew him in with your honey. Your very first meeting happened to be to seal the marriage pact itself before you would be shipped away to the North, to be his wife and the new Lady Stark.
Cregan rarely found himself charmed by anyone, yet you possessed an inner beauty that flourished in his presence. You were your own flame, burning through his hardened exterior. He did not mistake your docile nature for weakness — you possessed a dragon, where he did not.
You were rather taken with him, perplexed by his outward ruggedness and gruff accent, the way in which he carried himself, massive physique clad in the thick trappings of a wolf. He was a mountain of a man, yet he handled you as if you were some precious jewel, sacred and worthy of admiration.
Alicent begrudgingly watched as you, her youngest daughter, untainted by her own fractured morality, was sent away to the North in the hands of some brute. For the good of the Realm, Viserys had told her, but it cut deeper knowing that it was you, her beloved flesh and blood.
Yet, as you found yourself beneath the crimson leaves of the Weirwood Tree in the Godswood, hands bound with Cregan’s own, you forgot about your mother’s bitterness entirely — and you were happy.
The first kiss was one that would make a permanent residence within your memory for lifetimes to come. He had cradled your face, towering over you as if he were a solemn statue, but even you could see the softening within his visage.
King’s Landing was suffocating, more often than not. The animosity that festered between your family smothered you, crushing you beneath its sharp heel. You were no longer surrounded by bitterness and resentment, and instead, cloaked by the protection and warmth of your new husband.
The feast held in honor of your blossoming union was one of merriment, the mood lighthearted and blissful. You sat beside your husband, stomach tumbling with a coil of nerves. Everyone seemed foreign to you, unfamiliar faces with their northern attitudes and odd indifference.
You could not fault anyone for having their suspicions, given your heritage. Being a Targaryen, pale-headed and violet-eyed, bringing your dragon from the South — it must’ve been jarring. Growing into your station as the Lady of Winterfell would be a long and arduous process, but you hoped that Cregan would show you the way.
Oblivious to your Lord-Husband’s smoldering stare, you politely consumed bites of the sugar-dusted fruit cobbler, admiring the vibrant aura within the room. Your wedding gowns were as pure as the driven snow, accented with silver embroidery and lined with pale fleece to keep you warm, given the cold gnaw of winter.
If it weren’t for Cregan’s steadfastness in providing you with a new wardrobe fit for winter, the icy chill would’ve consumed your extremities from the inside-out.
Leaning over within his seat, Cregan reached for your hand, stormy-gray hues churning with a kindness reserved for you. “How are you faring, wife?” He inquired, voice a low rumble; a soothing timbre that sent shivers down your spine.
“Very well,” Warmth crawled along your flesh when he referred to you as wife so openly and affectionately. You weren’t accustomed to having someone be so attentive to you, hang upon your every word, treat you with such courteousness. “This is so wonderful. I must thank you and your Keep, for your kindness.”
If you were anyone else, Cregan might’ve treated you with a stalwart cordiality found in most formalities, but you were not anyone else. You were good, sweet, and kindhearted — above all, you were quite innocent. He would’ve been telling himself a bold lie if he hadn’t thought about taking you to bed several times already.
The colors of the North suited you — his home suited you. Not many men of his position were so lucky when it came to betrothals, but he felt as if he was beyond fortunate to have married you. Cregan only hoped to be a good husband to you and to your future children, heirs to Winterfell, with the blood of the dragon and the wolf in their veins.
He had forbidden a bedding ceremony, content to guide you to your chambers once the festivities ceased, instead. Cregan enjoyed observing you and your demure mannerisms, from the way you made small talk with those around you, complimenting the choice of food and drink. It warmed his heart to know that his wife was an amiable soul.
“You needn’t worry, Princess. It is my duty as your husband to show you a bit of Northern hospitality.” Cregan mused, a ghost of a smile tugging at either corner of his mouth. He rarely showed any emotion, let alone treating his subjects with a smile given his hardiness, but he did show a sliver of it for you. He didn’t want to scare you away.
With a delighted smile, your hand shyly curled around his, your skin unblemished and soft. Cregan hadn’t touched a woman as silky as you, and it made his blood run hot — an inopportune time, given that it was in the midst of his wedding feast. “Thank you, my Lord.” You weren’t sure if you were permitted to abandon formalities just yet.
Cregan huffed, gaze twinkling with amusement as he let your smaller hand hold his own, digits tenderly caressing over your knuckles. “I would hope that you only call me ‘my Lord’ if you’re angry with me,” His chest rumbled with an affectionate sound. “You aren’t in King’s Landing anymore.”
Embarrassment rippled through you, but before you could correct yourself out of anxiousness, Cregan gingerly squeezed your hand. Instead, it evoked a smile from you, the very same tender expression you’d given him when you were proclaimed as his wife. “I will call you husband when I am pleased with you.” You mused, bright as could be, and so blissfully naive.
Often regarded as a brooding, serious man with little traces of humor, Cregan found himself letting his guard down just enough with you. Of course, to any observer, he still seemed rather stoic, but the brief, fleeting looks he gave you, the threadbare smiles — it suggested otherwise.
As the excitable buzz of the feast began to simmer, Cregan stood from the table, wood scraping across the stone floors of the Great Hall. He stepped away from you, sparing the servants and guardsmen a word before he returned to your side.
“Is there not to be a bedding ceremony?” You whispered, stomach still tight and festering with nervousness. It was something you feared since you last saw Aegon and Helaena be hauled away for such a thing. The concept of it frightened you, twisted and unusual.
With furrowed brows, Cregan shook his head, offering his thick arm out for you to take. “No,” He grunted, noticing the swell of anxiousness etched into your features. “I would never subject you to such a thing, or myself.” He murmured, feeling you take his arm as he led you from the Great Hall.
Relief flooded through you, and you finally relaxed, seemingly appreciative of Cregan’s thoughtfulness in the matter. “Thank you, husband.” You sighed, gripping onto his arm as he led you into a warm corridor and towards a massive spiral of thick, stone steps.
Though, you still had a duty to perform — consummating the marriage, creating an heir. Part of you feared what it all entailed, given that Helaena never seemed pleased with any of it. Would he hurt you? You were uncertain, but you wanted to believe that your new husband would keep you safe.
Cregan welcomed you into your marital chambers, tidied and polished for your stay. Whatever belongings you brought with you, they were situated near a set of fine, wooden chairs circled around a stone table. Everything seemed warm and comely in his quarters, the direwolf aesthetic heavy-handed, the hearth crackling and bursting with ripples of fire.
“If there is something not to your liking, inform me — I will have it rearranged,” Cregan rumbled, following in your footsteps as you neared the open hearth, warming your hands and basking in its glow. He stood close to you, towering over you with his bulk and might. “How are you?” He asked, ensuring your comfort above all else.
There was little need for the hearth when Cregan was near, radiating a natural heat that drew you in. His countenance seemed softer, not nearly as impassive as he’d been before. “I am more than fine, I promise.” You assured him, hands wringing together. “I thought that I would miss home, but I do not. Isn’t that terrible?”
Perplexed, Cregan seemed inclined to listen to your elaboration, chestnut tresses framing his face. “It isn’t a terrible thing, princess. I would imagine that it must be freeing, to be somewhere else. You’ve never left the capital.” He replied, knowing that you were quite sheltered for most of your life.
A soft sigh escaped you, and you tried not to think about it anymore. You didn’t want to sour the mood with talk of home and the past — this was now. “It is liberating,” You confessed, craning to look at him with a semblance of wonder and affection. “I am happy that I’m here with you.” You spoke with genuineness and finality.
It was pleasing to hear you say such a thing, and even better to know that you truly meant it. One thick, burly arm slowly encircled your hips, bringing you into the warm expanse of his chest. “Good,” He murmured, expression steely. “That pleases me greatly.”
To know that Cregan valued your happiness was a wonderful feeling — you felt cared for and seen, shrouded within his protectiveness. You imagined that it would be a blissful marriage. “Thank you, Cregan.” His name slipped from your perfect tongue, and he thoroughly enjoyed the sound it made.
A low rumble vibrated through Cregan’s chest as he drew you as close as he could, tracing his calloused digits along the soft curve of your jaw. “You are very beautiful,” He murmured, timbre edged with a delicious husk that made your knees buckle. You shivered, something that he took note of. “Are you cold, wife?”
You nodded, sucking in a sharp breath when his lips neared yours. “I am.” A squeak escaped you, followed by a steady exhale. You had been kissed before, but the extent of your experience abruptly stopped there. You imagined that you wouldn’t be cold for much longer.
His lips met yours, the kiss tender yet passionate, deepened by your husband. Cregan found your mouth to be most pleasant, pliant and perfectly soft, yet malleable. You reciprocated his kiss, hands moving to press against his chest.
“Will it be painful?” You whispered, likely in an attempt to soothe your gnawing nervousness. Agony was something that didn’t coexist with pleasure, in your mind. You wanted this moment to be special and sacred, binding yourself to your husband.
Cregan hesitated, gently cupping your face with his rough palm, tenderly stroking along your cheek. “I wouldn’t dare harm you, princess. You have my word.” He assured, and it confirmed his suspicions — you hadn’t been with another before. “It might be painful, but I will be gentle. We don’t have to start tonight.”
Admittedly, it was quite the opposite for you — you wanted to start tonight, but you longed for clarification first, and he gave it to you. You shook your head, hands slipping toward the front of his tunic, as if silently pleading with him to stay. “I want to.” You insisted, looking like the picture of innocence.
As much as he liked you sweet and pious, Cregan had a feeling that it would be somewhat different after this. His gray hues swirled with a heavy desire, dropping towards the delicate curve of your mouth. “May I?” It was all that he needed to ask, and as soon as you nodded, he brought you in for a heated kiss.
Despite his appearance, a stone-faced wall of muscle and Northern strength, he was incredibly gentle with you. He held you against him, never tight enough to cause you discomfort, hands softly kneading into your hips. You kissed him back as best as you could, feverishly hot, butterflies erupting within your stomach.
His beautiful wife — Cregan could not imagine another, now that he had you in his arms. The way you kissed him was innocuous and tender, as if you were also terrified of making a mistake. Your purity, a precious thing indeed, would be tarnished and dissolved after this evening.
The thought of you, round and swollen with his child, was both tantalizing and tempting — well within his grasp. Cregan wondered if they would take after you, pale-headed with lilac hues, or perhaps himself. If the Gods were good, they would be a blend of the both of you, a dragon and a wolf.
You shivered again when your burly husband curled his hand into the back of your wedding gown, fingers slipping between the gaps, feeling inklings of your bare skin beneath. “I’ll keep you warm, wife.” He rumbled, pressing a kiss against your jaw. It wasn’t from the cold, he knew this, but his honeyed words made you flustered.
He dropped his cloak, allowing the thick curtain of fur to land against the floor. He was impossibly broad, as thick as stone, tunic loose yet snug enough to accentuate his brawn. You felt your breath hitch within your throat, swallowing another barrage of nerves.
Cregan’s mouth assailed your neck, hand peeling away the collar of pale fur in order to reach you. Every kiss was passionate, wrought with need, yet maintained that air of gentleness. Roughness was in his nature, but he wouldn’t dare fall into that pit on your wedding night.
You tasted ambrosial, sweet velvet beneath his lips, which peppered themselves wherever they could. He listened to your soft gasps and needy whines, your hands having curled into the coarse material of his tunic. He wanted to show you just how perfect you really were.
Suddenly, your gown felt much too tight and constricting, as if you would drown within it. You alleviated such sensations by loosening the bodice, tugging on the ivory strings. The fur became unraveled as Cregan gently draped the garment over the back of a chair.
Left in the thin, humble trappings of your smallclothes, nothing more than a corset hugging a linen slip, he silently appraised you with the hunger of a wolf. You appeared to be shy, somewhat coy in his presence as he looked you over, large palms settling against the swell of your hips.
“Why do you shy away?” Cregan murmured, chestnut brows furrowing together, tone one of genuine concern. You were the prettiest creature he’d ever seen — most Targaryens were known for their beauty, but you possessed it both ways, inner and outer, and that only made you more incomparable in his eyes.
Swallowing your nerves, you chewed at the inside of your cheek, hands fidgeting together. “I suppose I worry about what you’ll think,” A sore insecurity, to be sure, but something most young maidens possessed. Cregan’s gray hues softened, one hand stroking along the length of your spine. “That I won’t be suitable.”
A huff escaped him, a threadbare chuckle as he shook his head, pressing a kiss against your forehead. “You worry too much, princess.” That deep, thunderous timbre of his, husky with his Northern accent, shook you right to your core. “You are my wife — and you are perfect.” He assured, kissing along your jaw.
You exhaled, hands reaching for his tunic, wanting to see him without his clothing. There was a rush of warmth that crawled across your flesh, surging through your blood as Cregan pressed endless kisses against your skin. He trailed from jaw to collarbone, hands loosening your corset.
With a brusque tug, your gruff husband tore it from you altogether, tossing the bodice aside. “I will show you how perfect you are.” He rumbled, voice a low, heavy caress near the shell of your ear. You shivered, gaze half-lidded as you tugged insistently at his tunic.
The message was unspoken, but conveyed nonetheless as your mountain of a husband let his hands drop from you, only to tug the coarse, dark linen over his head. He was burly, broad-shouldered and thick with muscle, wisps of chestnut tresses framing his face.
Amusingly enough, Cregan possessed more of a cherubic, youthful face than you expected, yet his nose was slightly crooked from having it broken, faint scars upon his face. His eyes seemed wisened, old beyond his years. He reached for your slip, gathering the material within his hands as he looked to you for consent.
With your confidence rejuvenated, you nodded, breathless and wanton as you assisted him in maneuvering out of your thin smallclothes. The brief lick of chilled air dragged across your bare flesh, causing your nipples to harden, pebbling with the chill.
Fire danced across your physique, tantalizing and gorgeous, beautiful beyond compare. Even Cregan seemed speechless for a beat, throat reverberating with a low grunt as he motioned toward your shared bed.
You half-expected him to pounce on you, grab your hips and stake his claim, but he simply resorted to watching you slide onto the bed, covered in furs of all varieties. The frame rustled slightly, and you laid down, a picture of true perfection. Your crown of pale tresses seemed to stick out amidst the darker pallor of the furs.
Anticipation churned violently within your gut, arousal slick and mounting between your thighs as Cregan stalked closer, removing clothing in the process. You watched with bated breath as he loosened the ties of his breeches, removing them altogether.
It was to be expected — a man of his indomitable stature likely had the assets to accompany it. You nearly choked at the sight of him, terrified that it really would hurt, even if he was gentle. You sucked in a sharp breath, bewildered when he had reclined beside you instead.
“I won’t bite, my Lady.” Cregan rumbled, soothingly patting his lap as you crawled closer. He effortlessly picked you up, letting you straddle his hips as he admired you from below. “Hm.” With a hum of approval, he caressed along your form, stroking from your thigh to your breasts.
It was agonizingly deliberate, made to explore and study instead of acting upon salacious impulses. Cregan observed you closely, palm gently cupping your breast, thumb swiping over your nipple. You gasped, careening into his sensual embrace.
A flurry of desire bubbled within him when you planted your smaller hand atop his, as if encouraging him to knead and grope at his leisure. He seemed pleased, and so did you, a low hum escaping you as he caressed your silky flesh.
He made sure to show that same amount of attention to your unattended breast, slowly kneading into you. Those tempestuous gray hues never tore themselves away from you, boring into you with a searing intensity.
Warm slick coalesced between your thighs, only mounting and growing when he continued to touch you, hand lifting to cup your chin. You absentmindedly leaned into his touch, eyes becoming half-lidded as you rocked forward within his lap.
The sensations you felt were new and exhilarating, goosebumps dancing across your spine, heat pooling between your legs. “May I touch you?” You asked, tone delicate and sweet, a display of your piety and innocence. He quite enjoyed your desire to explore alongside him, and he gave a nod of his head.
“You don’t need to ask, princess.” He soothed, jaw tensing as your soft palms settled against his chest. Cregan’s stormy eyes didn’t leave you, carefully tracing each plane of your curves, the downy texture of your skin, the lilac glint of your eyes.
Your fingertips dragged across his musculature, committing each scar to memory, features becoming hot beneath his incendiary stare. He was your husband now — you imagined that scenarios like these would become commonplace. “You are so handsome,” You whispered incredulously, lips curling into a gentle smile. “Perfect.”
Cregan appeared perplexed, a soft huff escaping him as he trailed his calloused palm across the small of your back. He couldn’t recall the last time someone had called him perfect and meant it — and he knew that you did. He neglected to act, allowing you to explore as much as you pleased.
Awestruck, he watched with silent hunger as you leaned down, lips pressing against his own. A soft grunt escaped Cregan as he caged you in, mouth passionate as it tangled with yours. He enjoyed the feeling of your body snug atop his, your skin resplendent, like velvet against the grating bite of stone.
Dragging a hand from the swell of your hips to the nape of your neck, he gripped the base of your skull, gingerly kneading into your pale tresses. He kissed you again, oozing with desire as he stole every wisp of air from your lungs.
He pulled one leg up into a v-shape, supporting your back to keep you upright atop his lap. You could feel the thick girth of his cock nudge against your backside, causing you to shiver at the foreign sensation. “Do you trust me?” Cregan murmured, roughened fingertips dragging over the pliant flesh of your thigh.
There was an indiscernible look within his eyes, chestnut brows drawing together slightly. Your breath hitched as you nodded, and Cregan settled against the furs, strewn on his back. Those strong hands of his continued to nudge you forward, bringing you from his warm lap to his chest, and then a touch closer.
“What are you …” Uncertain yet filled with exhilaration, you had no idea what Cregan was planning. Your slick cunt neared his mouth, and your Northern paramour did little to slow the process, bumping you forward until you hovered above him. “C—Cregan, C —” Your voice tapered off into a whine.
His tongue raked hot embers across your cunt, a sensation that immediately made your knees buckle. You used the headboard to brace yourself, mouth tearing open as a strangled gasp escaped you. Part of you feared sitting down entirely, but Cregan coaxed you down, hands digging into your haunches.
Your reaction was beyond worthwhile, body trembling and coiled, hand scrambling to brace yourself as the other fervently dug into his chestnut tresses. You never imagined that such pleasure was even possible, filling you with an excitable ecstasy that sank into your bones.
Splitting past your folds, Cregan tasted every inch of you, tongue seeking your cunt with a fervor. He was vigorous in his ministrations, not shying away from consuming every drop of your arousal. His nose brushed against your mound, hands kneading into your thighs to reassure you, let you know that he had you.
Even when he rested beneath you, he still seemed indomitable, perhaps a touch intimidating. You didn’t look down, body involuntarily trembling and rocking forward, back beginning to arch. “Gods, a—ah!” You stammered, thighs twitching and quivering as his tongue gently flicked over your clit.
Visibly flustered, you felt so strange and smitten, riding your husband’s face as you would your dragon. It filled your belly with a rousing fire, one bright enough to consume the rest of your body, licking along the length of your spine.
A low rumble emerged from Cregan’s chest, a vibration that rattled you to your core. He wanted you to have your fill, take as much as you could and drown within pleasure. Your maidenhead was still intact, a virtue that he did not treat lightly. He didn’t feel the need to breathe, lapping at your cunt with a wolfish gluttony.
You were undeniably soaked, like a fine stout upon his tongue as he devoured you. Cregan was passionate, each stroke of his tongue ensuring that you felt it all, bliss erupting throughout your stomach.
Chasing after what you imagined to be your release, you happened to peer down for a moment, finding the contented face of your husband, whose face was lodged between your legs. His brows were creased in concentration, tongue prodding against your entrance before languidly flicking back to your clit.
It was only when he pursed his lips around that sensitive clutch of nerves, that you nearly collapsed around him. Even your draconic blood could melt, tempered by the hardened ice of your Northern paramour. You gasped, hips stuttering as your thighs squeezed at either side of his head — fortunately, he didn’t seem to care.
The only thing you wanted was this, forever — your husband’s tongue between your legs, a sanctuary in the North with a potential family, a life in which you could finally find your solace. You continued to squirm and writhe, moaning his praises into the warmth of your chambers.
As you approached your peak, you grappled with Cregan’s tresses, tugging at the root as you rocked forward, again and again. “Cregan,” You moaned, countenance contorting into a look of sheer pleasure, bones crawling with an insatiable heat. “Cregan, Cregan, please!” It was a siren’s song of desire.
He did not stop, but he didn’t change course, either. Instead, he simply continued on, suckling at your clit as he intermingled it with timed laps of his tongue. Your release slammed into you, white-hot and blistering, gnawing away at your stomach as that coil of heat effectively snapped.
A whine emerged from you, one that was nearly breathless as you rocked forward again, legs shaking from ecstasy as you rode out your peak. Cregan, ever the dutiful husband, lapped at your nectar, savoring the taste, the scent of a pleasurable aftermath.
“What —” You had to catch your breath again, attempting to recuperate as you sat back on his chest instead, thick, burly muscle plentiful enough to cushion you. “Where did you learn how to do that?” It was an innocuous question, one so sweetly-spoken that it nearly caused Cregan to chuckle.
He did, however, smile — a rare, sentimental gesture reserved only for you. It was threadbare, and if it weren’t for the nature of your relationship, one might’ve thought him to be rugged and indifferent. “You need only ask, princess, and I will oblige.” His voice was a deep rumble that warmed your insides.
You thoroughly enjoyed the nickname of princess — a term of endearment given your status, but you were a princess no longer. “I am a lady of the North now, aren’t I? A princess no longer,” You proclaimed, skin shimmering with perspiration. “What will you call me, now?” You asked.
“Hm,” Cregan contemplated, pressing a kiss against your leg before he sat up enough to have a good look at you, chin still glistening with your slick. The sight was lewd, enough to make you unbelievably flustered as he grew closer, nearly chest-to-chest with you. “Lady Stark would suffice.” He murmured.
Something amorous burned within you, a smolder that soon turned to ignited sparks. “It would please me greatly.” You hummed, running your hands over his biceps before Cregan gently changed places with you, moving you beneath his bulk, comfortable upon your back.
Soft was a mere understatement — he could feel himself melt. It was not your dragon’s blood or heat that made him crumble, but your heart. He could imagine you as the mother of his children, belly round with his heirs, the Lady of Winterfell, a Hightower no longer.
He settled between your legs, and you gasped when his cock gently glided against your slick core. Cregan knew to temper himself, to be as gentle as he could with it being your wedding night, but his resolve was steadily diminished in your presence. He steeled himself, pressing a string of kisses along your body.
Without thinking, you unconsciously goaded Cregan into a point of near-frenzy. Your hands found the taut, trunk-like muscle of his biceps, visage filled with a sense of awe and adoration. “A child would please me greatly.” You confessed, having no clue what it would do to your husband.
Cregan stopped, digits curling into the thick furs on either side of your head. It took every fiber of his being not to fuck you then and there — and he wouldn’t, it wasn’t right for him to take your maidenhead with such roughness. His fantasy became reality, a visceral, beautiful vision that made him grunt, jaw unnaturally tense.
His rough palm soothingly stroked along your thigh, lust swelling within him like a blizzard, a violent storm of need that transcended all bonds of propriety. “Does Lady Stark want me to put a pup in her belly?” Cregan rumbled, tempestuous hues ignited with a fire that demanded to be extinguished, sending shockwaves right to your core.
You swallowed the growing lump within your throat, shuddering at the sound of his voice — an edged husk, like the rumbling of thunder before a deluge or the shaking of a mountain. “Yes,” You exhaled, searching his countenance, only to find desire. “I would.”
The Gods were testing him, aiming to see if he would break beneath the pressure, but he refused. Cregan lowered himself over you, lips molding themselves against yours in a hot kiss. Your hands remained poised atop his biceps, barely able to wrap themselves around the thick, corded muscle.
He wasn’t much of a talker, and it quickly dwindled into deep grunts and heavier sighs as he aligned his cock with your entrance. He made sure to part your legs, keeping them spread as he began to push inside of you. The sudden intrusion made you gasp, startled at the twinge of pain, the discomfort of it all.
Cregan despised the mere thought of causing you harm, and even he was willing to end it all then and there. “We don’t have to continue, beloved.” He rumbled, pressing a soothing string of kisses along your face. The endearing nickname made you preen, nails digging into his arms.
“No, I — I’m well enough,” You breathed, insistent on continuing. Cregan deliberated, but when you let out a low whine, he obeyed your command. “Gods, I need you, Cregan.” Pitched with a wanton resonance, you urged him to keep going.
Your neediness made his blood run hot, and he nodded, sluggishly resuming his pace. He continued to tilt his hips forward, cock feeding into you, inch by agonizing inch. Cregan felt the desperate bite of your nails clutching into muscle, leaving behind angry crescents.
You were never fully warned of the pain, the discomfort that accompanied pleasure. It was always sold as some fantasy, particularly for men — nights of heavenly passion resulting in bliss. For you, it was simply a marital duty to provide your husband with an heir, but this transcended that. Passion and affection sparked between the both of you, and it felt right.
As Cregan finally bottomed out inside of you, he allowed you time to fully adjust, rocking into you at a lackadaisical pace. He continued to shower you in kisses, wherever his lips could reach, giving particular affection to the crook of your neck.
Whatever discontent you felt, you hastily pushed it aside, tossing it into the recesses of your mind. Instead, you focused on him — on how incredible he made you feel, the warmth you experienced in his presence. One of your hands slipped to thread within his chestnut tresses, mouth agape.
You took him so well — better than expected, and it filled him with a sense of pride and ardor. Cregan pressed hungry kisses along your throat, nose buried into the hollow of it, right beneath your jugular. He continued to go slow, afraid of causing you further pain.
Cregan repositioned his hand, leaving one lodged beside your head, the other sinking into your haunch, digits tenderly kneading into your thigh. It was an offer of reassurance, and he watched your countenance shift from discontented to relaxed.
“Move,” The sharpness of your command brought him to heel, and he very nearly smiled — it was there, the ghost of it toying at his lips. Bringing his hips back and then forward, you moaned, knowing that the sting of pain would soon blossom into pleasure. “Please.”
Molten heat swirled within the pit of your stomach, arousal thick between your legs as Cregan began to find his pace, a rhythm that shook you to your core. He was so very gentle, even for a man of his herculean mass and muscle. He took care of you, soothingly caressing your thigh as he thrusted into you.
His cock filled you completely, a stretch that would take you more than just one night to adjust to. Your maidenhead was gone, your cunt tight around his length, pulling him in again and again.
Cregan’s breathing became heavier, somewhat labored as he consummated your union. Each snap of his hips held meaning, beyond the creation of an heir. It was tenuous with feelings, a burning sentiment he felt for you, ardor that had grown into a fire.
Admittedly, his mind was hazy, fueled by desire and the mere thought of you wanting a child — you had asked it of him, demanded, and he was at your mercy. Cregan couldn’t have gotten any luckier with you, the most resplendent woman he’d ever seen.
Imagining you full and round, still as lovely as the day he set his eyes upon you, a mother and a dragon — it was nothing short of true perfection. He chased after it, evident by the growing vigor and passion in each thrust of his hips, cock nearly tearing you into two.
No matter how gentle and careful Cregan was with you, it was to no avail, but you no longer cared. “Cregan,” You moaned, lifting one leg to hitch it around his waist, and that only seemed to further spur him on, allowing him to hit new depths. His throbbing length nearly kissed your womb, filling you to the brim. “Cregan!” You cried.
For a moment, you feared being split in-half by your mountain of a husband, but he slowed enough to let you recuperate, throat reverberating with carnal grunts. The rumbling of his chest, the heat that radiated from him in waves — it was all perfect.
It was driving him mad, the way your cunt constricted around his cock, the way in which your back arched from the furs, chest brushing against his. Cregan grunted, jaw set and brows furrowed in concentration as he kneaded into your thigh, something to alleviate his tension.
His thrusts deepened, became passionate and invigorated with love, and each snap of his hips made your head spin with delirium. You were drunk on desire, clinging to him as if you were a drowning maiden, hand splayed against his shoulder.
Whenever he happened to become a touch too vigorous, he felt your nails dig deep into his flesh, leaving behind the reddened marks of your consummation. Cregan was getting close, chest erupting with labored pants as he pressed his forehead against yours.
You moaned, body bending beneath his passion, malleable within his hands. His cock throbbed within you as he sought to spill his seed, face against yours, lips occasionally connecting in a series of sloppy, warm kisses. Everything felt incredible, in ways that you couldn’t comprehend.
He was so burly, a thick wall of impenetrable muscle that seemed to envelop you entirely, shield you from everything else, from all harm. Strands of chestnut stuck to his temples, flesh glittering with perspiration from the exertion of lovemaking, coupled with the heat in your chambers.
With another brusque thrust of his hips, he settled inside of you, reaching his peak with a subtle groan. His seed filled your cunt in hot ropes, more than enough to take, if the Gods were good. Cregan exhaled, feverishly hot as he began to recuperate, neglecting to remove himself from you for a few moments.
“Are you alright?” Cregan murmured, ensuring your wellbeing first, above all else. A stinging soreness settled into your thighs and your core, but you would survive. He didn’t completely obliterate you, thankfully — you wondered what he would be like, unrestrained.
“Yes,” You smiled, visibly flustered beneath the intensity of his stare. “That was incredible.” Your confession made him huff, likely one of amusement as he pressed a kiss against your forehead. Even you glittered with sweat, but that was to be expected.
You already wanted more — and you nearly asked it of him.
Lascivious fantasies took root within your mind, and the mere idea of him being rough and completely domineering made your cunt throb. You could not do it now, given how exhausted you were, but he had certainly unlocked a new side to you, a side that you were unfamiliar with.
Cregan pulled himself from you, propping your hips up beneath a feathered pillow to ensure that his seed would take. He rested beside you, drawing you into the bulk of his muscled arms, allowing you to rest your head against the expanse of his chest. “You were perfect.” He rumbled, roughened digits stroking along your spine.
It pleased you to know that your husband was satisfied with you, much to your delight. “I am glad,” Relief rippled through you as you inched closer, perfectly slotted against his frame. “So were you.” Your pleasant accolades made him smile, fracturing his stony exterior.
“There will be plenty of time for this, that I can promise you,” Cregan was more concerned with getting to know you, his beautiful lady-wife, Lady Stark. “I would like to start with you.” He murmured, savoring the sensation of your fingers tracing across his abdomen.
You blinked, seemingly surprised by Cregan’s genuine interest in you. It made you happy — perhaps you could have both. Moments of learning and moments like these, where you could indulge in pleasure.
“Would it offend you if I asked you to do both?” You questioned, warmth crawling along your body as Cregan squeezed the swell of your hip, gray hues sparkling with a semblance of mirth.
“It wouldn’t,” Cregan mused, timbre dropping to a lull, a husky octave that seemed to envelop you in its stoicism and warmth. “It pleases me to know that Lady Stark possesses the appetite of a dragon.” His teasing made you squirm, but he simply caressed you and held you closer.
With a coy smile, you lifted your head, pressing your lips against his, asserting your still-lingering desire for your husband. “Not a dragon,” Your tone softened with a sweeter resonance. “A wolf.”
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copyright @ swordgrace ; please do not steal my work and claim it as your own or translate it onto other platforms.
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masterhallmark · 9 months ago
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Rant incoming
I feel like the problem with a lot of Disney's live action remakes (and arguably Wish) is they're trying to appeal to a crowd that no longer exists, namely the people who used to claim that the Disney Princesses were sexist.
All the interviews tend to include, "Well she's not chasing a MAN anymore" which...almost no one sees the princesses like that, anymore. Virtually NO ONE still believes the princesses are man-chasing sexist caricatures of women.
Cinderella is now hailed as an abuse victim who stayed strong long enough to get help to get out of her situation. Anyone who says she should have saved herself is basically regarded as a victim blamer. And it's very clear in the film she wasn't looking to marry the prince, she just wanted a night off. She was the only one who wasn't in line to meet him. She didn't find out she met the prince until he went looking for her!
Snow White is now hailed for her negotiation skills, ability to calm down after extreme stress (she had a moment of panic and had to cry for a bit, but who wouldn't after finding out The Queen hired someone to kill you?), and ability to take charge of a house of adult men. And again, she was an abuse victim, this time trying to escape ASSASSINATION ATTEMPTS. While she dreamed of her prince, it was secondary to her main goal of SURVIVAL. There are also entire video essays about how Snow White gave hope to people during The Great Depression.
Everyone acknowledges that Ariel wanted to be human BEFORE meeting Eric. We all know she was a nerd hyperfixating on humans, and also standing up to her prejudiced father.
We understand Sleeping Beauty wasn't the main character, the Three Good Fairies were, AND PHILLIP WOULD NEVER HAVE BEATEN MALEFICENT WITHOUT THEM! He literally depended on them! WOMEN SAVED THE DAY! But even then, is it really such a sin for a girl to fantasize about romance and fall for someone with corny pickup lines?
We all understand Jasmine just wanted someone to treat her LIKE A PERSON. She rejected every Prince before Aladdin because they treated her like a prize. So why did they need her to want to be Sultan? How did that make her more feminist when she already wanted to be treated like an equal and have a say in her future? Is it only empowering if you want a career in politics?
We admire that Belle, despite living in a judgemental village, was kind to everyone (even though she found the village life dull), and her story teaches girls that the guy everyone else loves isn't always a good guy. What's sexist about teaching girls about red flags? And she didn't start being nice to The Beast until he started treating her with respect and kindness.
Do I really NEED to defend Mulan or Tiana? I think they speak for themselves.
Rapunzel was yet another abuse victim who just needed a little help to get out of her bad situation. In this case, she also needed to learn that she was an abuse victim, and that what Mother Gothel did WASN'T normal, much like many victims of gaslighting.
And don't get me started on the non-princess animals.
Perdita had a healthy relationship with Pongo to the point she was open to express her pregnancy fears to him, and was ready to TEAR APART Cruella's goons for daring to touch her puppies as well as adopting the other puppies. Like, she was so ferocious the goons mistook her for a hyena! She's basically that "I AM THAT GIRL'S MOTHER!" scene from SpyXFamily if Yor were a dog. She and her husband were a TEAM.....but they made a Cruella live action to turn her into a girlboss?! The literal animal abuser!? THAT'S the woman you wanted to put on a pedestal when Perdita was RIGHT THERE!?
Duchess kept her kittens calm after they had been catnapped and was classy as heck. Nice to everyone regardless of social class during a time period where that was uncommon.
Lady stood up to Tramp when she believed he had abandoned her and didn't really care about her. She found out he was a heartbreaker and was like, "Nuh uh. No. You are not doing that to me! You put me through enough."
Miss Bianca from The Rescuers was IN CHARGE the whole movie, and was willing to risk life and limb to save an innocent child. THAT TINY MOUSE TOOK ON ALLIGATORS! And she picked Bernard to accompany her because he was the only one who wasn't ogling her. And then in the sequel SHE DID IT ALL AGAIN! I wish I were as brave as her.
Like, the public haven't accused these ladies of being sexist caricatures since 2014 (Actresses and actors don't count, they're out of touch like the rest of Hollywood) yet Disney is operating under the assumption that the public still thinks that way, hence all the "sHe'S nOt AfTeR a MaN iN ThIs VeRsIOn" talk.
The live action remakes are trying to attract an audience that doesn't really exist much, anymore, and back when it did exist, was comprised mainly of people who didn't actually watch the films. The Disney princesses are no longer seen as sexist, and feminine qualities are no longer seen as weak or undesirable.
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loveanddeepthroat · 4 months ago
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Come Home
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Pairing - Sylus x f!MC
Summary - Sylus has headed out to deal with some business, leaving you concerned for him as he doesn’t return when he told you he would. Fluff and a bit of angst. Sylus and MC aren’t yet in a relationship.
Word count - 2k
A/N - Hi! This is my first little one shot for LADS, and I hope you enjoy it. I do accept requests and look forward to writing more for this fandom 🖤
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It had been hours since you last heard from him.
You tried to tell yourself that you didn’t need to worry. That he was more than capable and has always returned in one piece. That your worry is wasted on him anyway, considering the fact that you weren’t even supposed to like him.
But you felt sick.
It was almost impossible not to be concerned. No matter where he was or what he was doing, he has always been reachable. You’ve tried his phone so many times that the battery eventually gave up on your futile attempts and went to sleep—which is what you should be doing at this hour. 
Mephisto had accompanied him on his outing, Luke and Kieran staying at the base with you under Sylus’s orders. They didn’t seem at all bothered by the fact that it was currently three hours past the time Sylus had told them he’d be back. They know him better than you do, but their constant reassurance did little to soothe the panic starting to show.
“Please,” you practically beg. “I have this awful feeling that something has happened to him. Please go and look for him.”
Kieran groaned at her, tired of having to repeat himself once more. “We already told you.”
“Boss’s orders are non-negotiable,” Luke chimes in from where he’s lounging in an armchair.
“He’d have our heads as soon as we walked out the door.”
You were becoming more irritated each second by their nonchalant attitude. They didn’t even seem to give a shit, and you weren’t currently in the right mindset to delve into why you gave so much of a shit.
He was a criminal. A man who had such questionable intentions and motives that you didn’t even want to know the bare minimum of what he got up to whenever he headed out alone.
If something had happened to him, however, you wanted names.
As poorly as your acquaintance with him had begun, you found him to be more intriguing with every moment spent in his presence. His likes and dislikes, his attentive nature whenever you’re around, the way he chooses a vinyl record based on the type of mood he’s in—even the way he dresses has you analysing his every six feet and two inches of pure, solid muscle.
He wasn’t bad on the eye, especially when he was looking at you. You couldn’t fully figure it out, but there was a very subtle tenderness to his presence when he was around you. Subtle in a way that didn’t overshadow his ability to be the biggest asshole you’d ever met.
“If you keep pacing like that then I’m going to throw up,” Luke complains.
You shoot him a harsh glare. “If you don’t like it then get out and find your boss,” you grit back.
With an exaggerated huff, he pulls himself out of his seat, stretching his arms over his head. You feel a glimmer of hope, only for it to be shot down almost immediately. “I’ll let you know if I pass by him in my dreams,” he teases, walking out of the lounge and towards his own room.
You wanted to drag him back and push him out of the front door, but the man could probably put you to sleep with a snap of his skilled fingers. Instead, you growl angrily as his chuckles sound from the hallway.
Kieran stood up, too, mimicking his twin with his stretching. He paused for a moment, and you waited for his addition to his brother's teasing.
“He’ll be back,” he assured, surprising you. “If he’s not back by morning, we’ll figure something out. Just go to sleep.”
He doesn’t wait for a response from you as he follows after Luke, both of them turning in for the night. Sleep sounded like pure bliss, but you weren’t going to be able to do so.
You couldn’t even sit down, your legs automatically taking you around every single piece of furniture so many times that you were starting to get dizzy. 
“Please come back,” you chanted quietly to yourself quietly, if only to keep your pacing on track and your mind alert. 
“Please come back. Please come back.”
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You weren’t sure how long it had been, but as soon as you heard the front door, you bolted for it on unsteady legs.
He came in quietly, which was completely overshadowed by your crashing into things on your way to get a visual on him. You practically fell through the door that led to the entry hall, where he looked only mildly bewildered and wholly amused.
There were no visual signs of any injury, but light blood splatters dotted across his white shirt, indicating an altercation. Mephisto sat happily on his shoulder, cawing as soon as he laid his mysterious little red eyes on you. The damn bird was never too happy whenever you were around.
Sylus raised an eyebrow at you. “Expecting someone?” 
That asshole.
He dropped off the face of the earth for hours, and had the audacity to greet you with sarcasm. 
Before your brain could warn you about the threat of putting your hands on him, you sprang forward, striking his chest with the palm of your hand. Then again. And again.
It was pathetically weak from your exhaustion, and he didn’t so much as blink as you assaulted his blood-spattered shirt. Mephisto, however, took to fighting back immediately, pecking at your hands and screeching.
Sylus shooed him away quickly, and the mechanical crow reluctantly took his leave. He proceeded to just stand there as his winged companion flew away, entirely unbothered by your outburst.
Your movements were quickly faltering, the already feeble slaps to his torso becoming far and few between. Still, he did not move. Did not speak. He was the most feared man in the N109 Zone, and he was letting you lash out on him.
Your hand finally stopped on the lapel of his coat, gripping it for a second to catch your breath. He waited for you to finally take a step back, your arms crossing over your chest immediately so you could fully close in on yourself. You were certain that your little outburst was going to bring some repercussions.
Unable to fight it, your bottom lip started to tremble. You had been walking around that lounge for so long that you had convinced yourself he was not coming back. That the wrong person had finally found him and gotten the better of him.
And you just know what he would’ve said if you indulged him in that speculation. What a silly little thought, sweetie.
He closed the space between you, your head automatically dropping to avoid his crimson gaze. You couldn’t bear it, the anticipation of what he was going to do. Your ass was likely headed back to Linkon on foot.
Warm fingers curled beneath your chin, lifting your gaze back up to his. He was towering over you, but you strangely didn’t feel intimidated. All you could feel was his warmth, and your wave of emotions crashing into their withering barrier.
His face gave nothing away as he studied you, still holding your trembling chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Are you finished?”
He didn’t ask it sarcastically. He was giving you an opening. If you weren’t, he’d allow you to resume until you got it all out of your system.
But you were done, your arms feeling like jelly to the point that crossing them was taking a big effort from you. You nod, feeling wetness pooling in your eyes. This all felt ridiculous. He didn’t owe you phone calls or explanations, you both barely considered each other friends. 
The surprisingly soft pad of his thumb brushed gently across your shaking lip, his eyes following the movement. “I’m sorry.”
In any other circumstance, those two words would have shocked you enough to make you fall over. But you were a little too far on the delusional side of exhaustion, your body running on the fumes of your panic.
Your eyes flicker away, the wetness tipping over the edge and dripping off of your lashes. He turned your drifting head back to him to lock eyes with you again. He never did like it when you broke his gaze.
“Things got a bit out of hand,” he explained quietly, not needing an explanation for why you were so upset. “You shouldn’t worry.”
“I wasn’t,” you lie, earning an amused chuckle from him.
He brushed his knuckle across your cheek to rid you of your tears. “No? Why else would a kitten get her claws out, then? Did Luke and Kieran forget to feed you?”
You scoffed at his teasing, following his lead back into the ease of your strange companionship. “They’re terrible babysitters,” you say, sniffling away the last of your upset. 
He smirked, moving his hand to cup the back of your neck. He pulled you towards him, embracing you gently with a deep inhale. You almost swore he was smelling your hair, but you shut that thought down. It was far too complicated for such a tired mind to dwell over.
It wasn’t the first time you’ve both embraced, but this instance did feel quite different. It felt comforting, rather than nerve wracking. Nobody embraces a man like Sylus without at least a modicum of fear beneath the surface.
“You could have called,” you whispered. “Or…or at least answered my calls.”
He sighed, the blow of breath tickling your hairline. “There isn’t a good signal where I went tonight,” he explains. “I should have mentioned that. I didn’t want to call once I did have service in case you were sleeping. I apologise.”
An overwhelming warmth filled your chest, different to the one emanating off of his body. You look up at him, lifting a hand to his forehead. He humours you by allowing it, his eyes trained on yours as you felt the cool skin beneath the hair falling over his face.
“Are you coming down with something? You’ve apologised to me twice now,” you say, half serious.
He didn’t laugh or tease, his face slipping back into that easy nonchalant expression. “I assure you, I’m not coming down with anything. I could ask you the same thing, though. Since when did you become a worrier, kitten?”
You didn’t know how to answer that. It was something you yourself had to figure out. Caring for him wasn’t on your bingo cards when you first met. If anything, the very first day you met, you’d have been relieved if he hadn’t returned.
“Don’t get used to it,” you murmur, his smirk returning at your half-assed response.
“I’ll try, but I do get attached,” he whispers, tucking your hair behind your ear. He looks as though he’s contemplating something, and it takes a moment before he speaks again. “I’ll get us some better communication devices. Something you can carry around that I can alert you on.”
A slight sense of guilt washed over you. “No, it’s okay. You don’t need to be concerned about my insecurities, I shouldn’t be keeping tabs on you.”
Sylus shook his head, his mind already made up. He taps a finger against your temple. “My concern about what goes on in there is for me to deal with. If some better technology eases your troubles, then it eases mine too.”
There it was. That side of him that kept you so very intrigued and made you feel a sense of…home? He often used words that didn’t m quite mean the same as his intentions, but you could see it in him.
He cares.
He rubs a firm hand up and down your back before turning you around, lightly pushing you away from the front door.
“It’s about time we got some sleep,” he says, barely above a whisper. 
You let him guide you through the halls, his lips dropping to your ear as he whispered again.
“Feel free to monitor me.”
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caramelkoo · 2 months ago
Text
before we shatter — jjk [one]
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genre : established relationship, idol!jungkook
word count : 6k
summary : dating an idol is fun, they said. having a family with one is fun, they said. Until you're falling face forward because of your reality. A reality where Jungkook dreams of a future and a reality where your own future is collapsed.
chapter warnings : nsfw, strong language, mature content, fluff, so much angst, smut, talks of infertility, clit sucking, fingering, Jungkook worships her, dirty talk, doggy style, reader is in so much pain i love her sm, fall vibes <33, gift giving as a love language, pussy slapping with his d, big dick energy, jungkook is desperate. that's about it please mention if i missed anything.
read part two here
a/n : based on this ask so thank you anon for coming forward and giving me a chance to write this. i also wanna mention that im no doctor so please forgive me if i didn't do the topic of infertility justice. the second part gives more clarity in their case so please be kind to wait. enjoy and im v v grateful for you. you're so loved.
When you were a child, barely five, an orange butterfly came flying outside your front door. Your mom told you about it since she saw it first causing your entire face to instantly light up like the fourth of july.
An inexplicable joy filled your whole body making your day ten times better, not that you were having a bad one. A five year old can’t have a bad day whatsoever.
After you were done chasing it around, secretly hoping that it would land on your nose just the way they show on television, you had to let it go and head back inside. 
Oddly enough the next morning you saw it again, this time it was not flapping its wings like it had last night, instead it was sitting on the window beside the door. Quiet and still. 
You, ever so curious, had to ask your mom about it. “It might find comfort there,” she said. 
Up until you met your boyfriend you had spent the majority of your time wondering where your comfort place is, what is that one place where you can just be yourself and not pretend to be some stoic woman. A place which lets you cry whenever you want but also replaces those tears with wide smiles and loud giggles. 
Turns out, it’s your boyfriend’s arms. 
It’s true. Jungkook with his kind, sparkly bambi eyes and bunny smile stole your damn heart a few years ago and is not willing to give it back. Although you can’t complain, in a world where people can’t seem to find the one for themselves, the angels up there granted you a guy every inch a gentleman. Safe to say it’s not one like one of those titular relationships you've come across. 
He’s your solace, a roof where you can safely just about exist. 
He heals you.
Dating an Idol comes with several perks, the biggest one of those being dealing with the huge amount of selective criticism. You feel hurt, of course, but when you’re with Jungkook, they are nothing but words behind a pixel. A pain that only lasts momentarily. 
This pain though, is not as mundane. This one is making your stomach twist in apprehension. You’ve lost the count of how many deep breaths you’ve taken.
“I’m afraid this is a case of infertility miss _____” the doctor says, earning your attention.
You’re not able to form a word, however that does nothing to stop your subconscious mind from screaming, I knew it.
Being stupid enough to think you were well prepared to hear her say this, you mustered up the courage to enter the four walled white space which, at that time, didn’t feel as narrow as it does now. It’s almost as if it’s closing up on you.
Only after you sat before the woman in white coat and bad news, did you realize how gut wrenching this actually feels.
You face her with a weak smile, one that doesn’t actually reach your eyes, “Are- are you sure you’re not mistaken?” 
Dr. Ana leans forward, resting her forearms on the table. The move itself tells you more than you need to. “Miss _____, I know it’ll be hard for you to come to terms with this but I suggest you try. I would also like to tell you, and I hope I’m not overstepping, but you can always go with adoption. The options are endless.” 
Your throat feels awfully dry and you gulp. “Thank you uh, can I ask you for a favor?” 
“Anything”
“If you happen to cross paths with Jungkook, please don’t mention anything about this to him.” 
Dr. Ana flashes you a kind smile, “Of course not ____. It’s your personal matter. I wouldn’t dare.” 
“Thanks a lot.” 
With one last nod you excuse yourself from her office. Your phone buzzes inside your pocket and you take it out, seeing Jungkook’s number stare up at you. 
“Hey” 
“Hey, my love. Are you busy?” His voice nearly brings tears to your eyes. It also brings up a question. Will he act the same towards you after you tell him where you are and what you just heard? Will his voice be filled with the same amount of excitement and affection for you? 
“No, honey. I’m actually at my sister’s place. She was craving some alone time with her husband and asked me to babysit Coco”
You can visualise him awing already. Jungkook has grown attached to your sister’s daughter a little too much. His bond with Coco is just so bright it makes you wonder if they happened to be an actual father and daughter duo in the past life. They’re both full of beans and it’s a delight to see them both together. 
He chimes, “Ah my little Coco bean. Is she near? Let me hear my angel.” 
Pinching the bridge of your nose, you try to come up with any transitory excuse that doesn’t make you run for the hills. “She’s sleeping right now. Made me work for it but I managed to settle her down” 
Jungkook moans from the other side of the line and you mentally curse yourself. Not only are you lying through your teeth but also using your innocent niece as a pawn. From the day you began dating Jungkook, you’ve not looked at any other man. For the first time now, you have this nagging feeling as though you’re cheating on him. 
“Well, alright next time then. When are you coming back home?” 
“As soon as they do. Do you miss me already?” I tease.
“Pfft me and miss you? Impossible” 
You gasp, the audacity of this boy. “How rude!!”
Your goofy boyfriend dares to chuckle, “I carry you with me everywhere I go, love. It’s hard to miss someone who’s this close to you every time of the day.” 
It doesn’t take you long to grasp what he is referring to. The heart shaped bracelet rests proudly on his wrists and the man had refused to take it off ever since you gifted it to him. A sense of longing already creeps up in your heart, twisting it until you run out of breath. 
Your chest expands as you fill it with much needed air, “Listen, honey I’ll give you a call soon yeah? I think Coco has woken up and I must go check if she needs something,” you fake a chuckle, “You know how she gets when she’s irritated” 
“Oh yes of course. Promise to give me a call soon?” 
This time the smile on your face is genuine, “I promise” 
“Give Coco a kiss for me. I love you.” 
“I love you.” 
There’s a heavy weight on your chest as soon as you hang up the call. Maybe it has always been there. So, for a couple of minutes you just stand there in the hallway of the hospital taking in the sterile smell and worrisome patients, praying that the highest power up there gives you one last chance so you could try and fix what’s been ruined.
The commotion around you does nothing to overtake the voices in your head and sadness fires through you as you feel like you’re burning your boats. Despite all of that, you pray for one last time, this time for again being strong enough to let go. 
Let go of your happiness.
Let go of your salvation.
Let go of your comfort.
Let go of Jungkook.
˚୨୧⋆。˚
You click the door shut behind you, hanging the coat on the rack. You’re not even done turning around when a muscular arm wraps around your abdomen and you’re pulled back against a taut chest. 
“I missed you” his voice is muffled against your jumper.
You run your palms over Jungkook’s forearm, stopping to interlace your fingers with his.The way his hands fit with yours is adorable to you as if they were made to do so. The bracelet on his wrist is cool against your skin and you smile. “You know what’s funny? This guy I talked to earlier said it’s impossible for him to miss me” 
He rests his chin on top of your shoulders, cheeks warm against yours. He has grown out a stubble which makes him look manlier for some reason and you can’t stop caressing it with your fingers whenever you cup his face.
“You’re talking to other guys?” If you hadn’t known Jungkook better than himself, you would have missed the pout of his lips when he said that. 
You turn your face and place a sloppy kiss on his cheekbones, “Only my favourite guy in the whole world.” 
He breaks out in a toothy grin and holds your gaze. “You’re my favourite girl too but I think you already know that.” 
You nod but the pang of guilt is still lingering in your heart. “Still love hearing it.” 
Jungkook releases you from his embrace and walks back, rounding the kitchen counter until he’s holding up a large bowl. “Ready for our fall ritual?” 
Jungkook and you have been using your mum’s recipe to bake chocolate chip cookies every fall and while you enjoy baking with him, the thing that you take the most pleasure from is his face when he munches on the first cookie.
It’s one of your favorite sights ever. It takes quite a bit of effort to bake them but hell if you wouldn’t do it all over again just to see him close his eyes and moan like it is the best thing since sliced bread. 
You join him behind the counter and look around. From the way the batter has already been prepared you suppose he’s been at it for a while. There are some chocochips in a small bowl across from you with some cranberries next to them because he knows you like them in your cookies. 
“You don’t ever forget about the cranberries, do you?” 
“Nope. They’re your favourite plus if you eat well, I can eat you well– ouch,” he jumps, “What was that for?” 
You offer him a glare which does nothing to stop the smile threatening to break out of your lips, “Behave” 
His face inches closer to yours, “Now honey don’t be acting like I didn’t give you the best orgasm this morning” 
Oh well, how can you forget about that? Ninety nine percent of the time you love waking up in his arms while he’s the big spoon but there’s that one percent where he wakes you up with his head between your legs, sometimes with his face under your shirt sucking on your nipples. Indissoluble passion within him. His ability to satisfy you with his mouth alone needs to be studied because god if you don’t crave more and more. 
You blink, once twice thrice, “You’re incorrigible” 
He lets out a cackle at your flustered face as you wonder when you will stop blushing like a fool around him. It’s been years and he still makes you feel like you’re wrapped up in a ball of jitters. Jungkook leans back and straightens up. He plucks the apron from the counter before coming up behind you. “Hold your hair up for me” He demands. 
You grab a fistful of your hair and lift them up as he settles it on your neck before tying the knot at your back. With one last kiss on the back of your neck he joins you. 
“How long has it been since you began making this?” 
“Not long ago. Thought I’d wait for you to come back home and then continue”
You watch him add the chocochips into the dough. His tattoos are barely visible behind the cozy sweater he’s wearing. At the risk of sounding like a hypocrite, Jungkook with his perfect physique and gorgeous face looks good in everything, more so naked, but nothing triggers your cuteness aggression more than him wearing a fluffy knitted sweater, believe it or not. One which you knitted at that.
He pulls your attention away pausing your little drooling session, “How’s Coco bean doing?” 
A sudden urge of getting close to him creeps up and you sneak between the counter and him, hugging him as you nuzzle your face in his chest. He smells like cinnamon. He places a gentle kiss on the crown of your head before resting his chin there. 
“You smell so good” 
“Thanks and she’s as chaotic as ever. Nailea bought the cutest pair of pyjamas for her,” you look up at him,  “She looked like a loaf of bread when they made her wear it.” 
“No way. Should we buy her another one of those?” he pulls back, barely able to hide the excitement on his face.
“You’re gonna spoil her” 
“Damn right I will and if you call this spoiling, wait till I get one of those made by me.” 
There it is. 
If Jungkook wasn’t so fond of children, would it have been easier for you to cope? You do realize that you’re a stone’s throw away from losing him for once and for all. In the old days you heard somewhere that it takes a strong man to save to save himself and a great man to save another.
You want to be that brave person who saves him from lifelong loathing and regret towards you.
This turning point in your life gives you two options, one where you can hang by a thread and bite your tongue while you continue your life with him, another where you set him free. The latter one wins and you, however, lose. 
“Hey you went silent there. You okay?” He cups your cheek with one hand, his thumb grazing your cheekbones so gently you try not to cry. 
You nod and flash him a smile. Or at least you try to smile and detach yourself from him. “Perfect. Let’s get those cookies baking shall we?” 
Jungkook keeps looking at you with an expression which tells you he’s trying to search for something, but you try not to give anything away. Yet.
He gives you a look, his eyes sparkling under the low light in the room,
“Wait here for a second i’ll be right back” 
“Where are you goi-”
“Just a second. Don’t move” His voice trails off as he goes further into the bedroom. A minute later when he comes back, there’s nothing different about him except the sneaky smile on his face. He walks towards you and grabs you by the waist as he sits you on the counter. Your hands instantly clutch his shoulders for support. 
“What is happening, baby?” You mumble, clearly in a fog. 
He says nothing as he gets down on his knees. Taking a hold of your right leg, he places it on his thigh. You swallow.
He looks up, clashing his eyes with yours, “You ask too many questions, do you know that?” 
Seconds later he’s taking something out of his jogger pocket and a cool sensation brushes your skin. You peek down, curiosity finally killing the cat as you see a silver anklet adorned by a pink stone in the middle of it embraced around your ankles. 
His name is a whisper on your lips, “Jungkook”  
He gets up, facing you as he stands. But not before pecking the anklet as well as your skin. His face which earlier was eerie, now entirely soft. 
“Mom sent this for you.” 
You don’t hold back tears this time, letting them run free. You glance at the jewellery again as it shines under the light of the kitchen lamp. The pink stone glares at you as if it knows you’re not worthy of such a valuable item. 
“It’s beautiful”
He gently wipes the tears away,
“It’s just the beginning, love. I’m not gonna stop until I see a band wrapped around your finger. I feel too lonely being the only one there.” 
You playfully smack him on the chest, a giggle slipping free. With a tired shake of your head you admit, “This is overwhelming” 
“What is?” he asks,
“All of this,” you keep your gaze on him, sniffing as you continue,“Your little acts of service, your love, your presence and now this gift. I feel like I’m taking too much not giving enough” 
Your throat feels too tight, as if someone is just cutting off your air supply when you should be feeling free in his arms. 
Jungkook’s eyebrows tense as he reaches for you. Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear he tries to reassure you, “Don’t say that. I hate when you question your worth,” he pecks the back of your hands, “These hands feed me, hold me when I need them to, give me warmth, gentle touches”,
His lips find both of your eyes next as you close them, feeling his soft lips on them,
“These eyes tear up with happiness every time you listen to me in the studio”,
Your ears follow next, “These ears tolerate my snoring”,
Then your lips, “And this mouth, my favourite, whispers ‘i love you’ to me every morning, leaves kisses on my skin, screams my name and most importantly, forms the loveliest smile when I make you happy.” His eyes are oh so gentle as he says this. 
You’re about to respond when his phone buzzes on the counter next to you. Your heart stops. Fuck is it Dr. Ana?
To your surprise, it’s Jimin’s number on the screen.
“Pick it up, honey. It might be important.” 
His thumb presses on the red button as he declines the call, “I’ll talk to him later. My girlfriend comes first.” 
Neither of you say a word as the room gets filled with a comfortable silence. The cookies are long forgotten, your eyes doing all the talking. Even if you try your hardest you’re not sure you can say anything which is remotely justifiable of what he just said to you.
Jungkook is so much more than meets the eye, he’s vulnerable, he’s empathetic, he’s loving. His eyes shine the brightest when he’s happy about something and you’re so full of contempt about the fact that eventually you will be the one to snatch away that shine. This hornet’s nest is going to ruin me, ruin him. 
“I wanna kiss you so bad” He whispers, leaning closer but you stop him with your palms on his chest.
“Wait, I-I want to talk about something” 
His voice is downright pleading when he says, “Later baby. I’m fucking gonna die if I don’t take that mouth right now. Please?” his breath touches your bare lips. 
Feeling a flutter in your chest you nod and he leans towards you, hand cupping your lower jaw as he touches his lips to yours. Softly at first, then his pace quickens. Your hands grab his sweater as you pull him even closer, deepening the kiss. His moan echoes followed by your own as you both lose yourselves in each other. You let go of every menacing thought and just focus on the taste of his lips. 
He pulls back slightly, taking a deep breath as he fills his chest with air. Those beautiful lips are pink and swollen from the heated kiss you just shared with him. Getting rid of the sweater, he tosses it aside as his eyes sparkle with amusement.
Without wasting any time he begins nibbling at your neck, slightly biting onto it as your hands run over his back. He’s so beautiful it takes your breath away. Not to toot your own horn but you have the most gorgeous boyfriend and you’re not ashamed to show him off. 
His lips ghost over your nipples from over your high neck top and you groan.
“Jungkook, please” 
He pulls back with a smug look on his face, “Please what ____?” 
“Please fuck me. I need your cock so bad.” 
“Yeah? Is that what my girl wants?” 
At this point your body is thrumming with anticipation and desire as you watch him move his hands closer to the waistband of your pants. His hands pause when they meet the lace material, his pupils dilate. 
He smiles, “It’s the one I gifted you. Were you hoping for this huh?” 
Your lips stretch into a smile. You hadn’t particularly hoped for this, no, because your relationship with him is not just based on physical pleasures. You guys have sex of course, but it’s not the prominent part of the bond you share. It’s more than that. The lace lingerie set was gifted to you by Jungkook on a random day. It was one of those quote unquote just because gifts. 
“What do you think?” you ask, giving him a quick kiss. 
He grabs you by the back of your neck and holds you there for a moment before leaning back and looking straight into your eyes. “I think you should lose it or else I’ll ruin it” 
You gasp, swatting him on the bicep. “Don’t you dare. It’s my favourite pair”  
Without preamble he picks you off the counter making you wrap your legs around his waist. You both are so close it takes your breath away. Chest to chest, groin to groin, face to face with lips inches away from each other’s as you share a breath. 
He walks into your shared bedroom as you clash your lips against his, pulling his lower one between yours, earning a groan out of him. You both are downright feral, letting your hands run over every area of each other’s body. Jungkook’s hands grabbing your ass, yours pulling on his hair lightly before trailing down his chest, pausing on his pecs. 
When you reach your bedroom, he sits himself down with you on top of his lap. Your hips move forward and you hiss as your still jean clad pussy brushes his cock. He’s so hard you wonder if he’s close to coming already. 
Rough hands scrape over your back, hips, down your thigh before they finally settle on either side of your waist, gipping them tightly but also with a hint of gentleness. One thing you admire about your man is that he doesn’t treat you like a fragile woman, he knows you’re strong and you’ll not break if he’s rough with you. 
Jungkook pulls back from your lips.“Fuck honey, you’re such a goddess. Look at this body. I still can’t believe I get to call you mine” 
You shake your head, totally under his spell. “I’m the lucky one here, baby. You have no idea how lucky I am.” 
His hand brushes over your ass before he dips it inside your pants, reaching your already soaked pussy as he pushes a finger inside you. This earns a whimper from you as you tip your head back. 
“That’s where you’re wrong, ____. Want me to show you how lucky I am?” He takes the finger out before pumping it back again. You moan as his other hand gips the nape of your neck and he brings his mouth to your neck, biting on it. 
“Oh my god” you cry, seeing him suck the finger clean and face forming an expression filled with the deepest level of satisfaction as he closes his eyes. 
Setting his eyes back on you, he sighs, “This isn’t my first time tasting you, honey. But it gets better every fucking time and I find myself craving you an unhealthy amount, you know that? Do you know how crazy I am for you? Could eat you out everyday and wouldn’t need anything else to feel full.” His words send a shiver down your spine. “You’re my favorite meal.” 
He pushes three fingers back inside with a slight force and you let out a scream, arching your back. He takes one nipple into his mouth and gives it a long suck, letting it go with a loud pop. 
“Oh yes, just like that. Suck it again, baby” You beg and he does exactly that as he takes the other sensitive bud into his mouth. 
You’re not sure if you have been this vocal about your needs with anyone before him. Not that you dated a lot, for a person who’s a hopeless romantic to the core you’ve always found yourself waiting for the right one. Additionally, you believed your body to be as sacred as a temple. Surely there had to be a guy somewhere who would treat it as such.
Then, enters Jungkook who not only was out of your league metaphorically but literally. He lived miles away from your place so there was not a chance you could have let anything take place between the both of you. But as they always say, the heart wants what it wants. To put it briefly, there was chemistry, a connection you didn’t want to lose.
Strong fingers pump into you. In and out, in and out. “You’re so wet. What do you say? Should I lick you clean?” 
“Yes, ah oh my goodness that’s sooo good” you toss your head back, slowly grinding against his hands. 
He wraps an arm around your waist, lifts you off his lap and tosses you back on the bed. Keeping his eyes still locked with yours he gets rid of his jogger, letting his cock spring free.
It bobs and you lick your lips, already wanting to take it into your mouth but you know for a fact that he wouldn’t let you do that, not because he doesn’t want you to but because he wants to give you the highest amount of pleasure first. As he always does. 
Jungkook lets out a shaky sigh as gives his cock a pull, his eyes running over your whole body. Up and down then back at your face again. You’re still not fully bare in front of him while he’s standing there, all in his glory. 
“Lose the pants” he commands. 
You immediately slide out of them and toss them on the floor somewhere. He grabs you by the hips, jerking you to the edge of the bed as he sinks down on his knees. Spreading your legs wider he releases a breath. Warmth touches your wet pussy and you prop yourself up by the elbows to look at him. 
You need to look at him if you want to stay sane, have to feel him with you here. Shivers run through you even by the thought of not being able to feel him and this ever again. This might as well be your last day on this god awful planet from the way the ache in your chest keeps on increasing. It makes a home there, not letting you entirely forget about the eventualities. 
“God you’re dripping, honey” 
“For you” you admit.
Hot and wet kisses are left to the inside of your thigh and your hands find the back of his head as you grip it lightly. 
His head lifts up, his eyes finding yours, “Don’t hold back,____. Grip it as tightly as you want to. I don’t want any hesitations because when I fuck you, I’m not going to be holding back. You hear me?” 
A desperate moan leaves you, and he rewards you by kissing your pussy. Keeping his eyes on you, he doesn’t give you a chance to whine out your needs before his tongue is licking a single line up your clit.
He moans and gently tugs on your clit. “Such a perfect cunt” 
You push his head against your pussy and rock forward, chasing your orgasm. 
“Feels so good, feels so perfect, baby” you murmur.
Just when you’re starting to feel the climax incoming, when Jungkook suddenly grabs you by the waist and flips you, so he’s lying down and you’re on top. Then, he grabs you by the back of your neck, pulling you for a heated kiss. 
He pulls back, “Sit on my face, my queen” 
Your eyes widen and you hesitate, but you don’t want to. You wanna let go, knowing you’re lucky enough to get something like this in this lifetime, so you give in. He hoists you up by the hips, positions you over his face and pulls you down. His warm breath feels like a soft whisper against your pussy. 
You cry out in pleasure as soon as his tongue dives deep inside you, squeezing your tits in your hands. Grinding against his face, you close your eyes and just… feel. Feel the heat, feel the emotions, feel the intimacy, feel the ache in your chest.
A thought crosses your head and you wonder if you’re doing something wrong, something selfish. Touching him like this and getting consumed by him feels like you’re doing nothing but ruining him. 
He sucks on your clit with sheer eagerness and desire, pulling you further down so you’re putting your weight on his face. Concern perks up and you look down, trying not to crush him but it seems like he couldn’t care less. 
“Let go, honey. Just focus on my mouth.” 
Let go. God, how bad you hate those words. They feel like acid in your ears. 
“Keep going, Jungkook. Don’t you dare stop” you cry out. 
Soon enough you’re aching your back, cunt pulsing against his lips as you come. He swallows every single drop as if he’d die if he doesn’t and leaves you in awe. You slump, letting your body relax.
Much to your amusement, he doesn’t give you enough time to relax before he’s turning you over until you’re on your knees. Hot passionate kisses are placed on your sweaty back, pulling a gasp from you. 
“What a fucking sight. I wish you could see how stunning you look right now and it’s all because of me, isn’t it? This glistening back, this wet cunt,” he strokes a finger down your pussy, “It’s all because of me and you dare to call yourself lucky?” 
You catch a sight of him stroking himself over your shoulders and your breath quickens. 
His abs are glistening with sweat and his chin still has your cum on it. 
He smirks, “Like what you see, honey” 
“You’re beautiful” 
His eyes soften, letting his hands drop from his angry and already leaking with precum cock, he grabs either side of your hips and lines himself against your needy pussy. You let your head drop on the mattress and clench your fist, preparing yourself for him. He gives your cunt a slight slap with his cock before filling you in, groaning as he goes deeper.
You moan, “Fuck baby. That’s so deep.” 
“You’re so warm, honey. You feel like home” he thrusts again. 
His hands grip yours, and he covers your body with his own, still thrusting inside with rough movements. His chest feels warm and safe against your back as it fills you with a deep sense of safety, protection and love.
You match every thrust of his with your own, moving your hips backwards. Your tits are getting equal attention from him as he pinches the two sensitive buds between his fingers. 
You both chase your high with you screaming out his name and him whispering yours like a prayer. He gives in one last thrust before he’s coming inside you, his teeth biting on your shoulder. You’re following him soon as you grip the bed sheet tighter in your fist, moaning as you come. 
Before you collapse, he pulls you upright and lets his cock slide out of you. His fingers push his cum inside your throbbing cunt, making your stomach twist in pain.
You murmur. “I love you” 
His lips stretch into one of those lazy smiles you love so much. “I love you too, my precious girl. Now, do you wanna sleep or go make those cookies?” a sloppy kiss is pressed on your forehead. 
Wrapping your arms around his shoulders you pull him on top of you, “Should we save those for later? I really wanna cuddle” 
He presses a soft kiss on the tip of your button nose, “Sure. Let me clean you up first. You don’t have to move an inch, just relax.” 
Minutes later he’s coming back with a bottle of water and a bowl of marshmallows. You bite back a chuckle when you look at his face. There’s such a deep crease between his eyebrows you’d think he’s trying to win a game of uno or something. 
But it’s short lived when he places the items on the nightstand and gazes at you, his eyes having the same funny look they had earlier in the kitchen.You try to summon your most unbothered and good natured grin but it doesn’t do shit to stop the electricity from running through your blood. 
“Why are you looking at me like that?” you ask, biting your lip.
An uncertain laugh slips out of him, “I don’t know. I’m- God, I really don’t know but I have this weird feeling that something is not right.” He begins cleaning you up but you can’t shake the feeling of nervousness and anxiety away. 
You know for a fact that he’s right. Something is not right, in fact nothing is right. 
He peeks at you from between your legs, “Hey, what is it that you wanted to talk about?” 
The air whooshes out of your lungs. Should you come clean? Is it the right time? 
You huff a tight laugh. “It’s nothing actually. Can we talk about it later?” 
When he’s done cleaning you up he places a small kiss on both your knees and stands up. Offering you a nod, he says, “Whenever you feel like it. I’m not going anywhere” 
Yet. He’s not going anywhere yet. 
You grin, “I wouldn’t let you” 
He lets a laugh slip out as he walks inside the bathroom. Then, he comes back, settles himself beside you and brings you closer by wrapping his arm around your waist. His feet find yours as he touches the anklet with them. 
“Let’s sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up” he promises. 
Morning comes quickly as the sun casts its glow on your sleepy yet excited eyes. Holding out a hand, you try searching for your boyfriend next to you, but a slight sting arises in your heart when he’s not there. You open your eyes, adjusting to the sunlight. 
Although, you hoped you did not wake up, you hoped death consumed you in your sleep because the person across from you is a total stranger. A stranger whose eyes are misty and mouth is pulled down in deep frown, a sunflower bouquet in one hand and the other one holding a blue file so tightly you can see his knuckles turning white.
Jungkook holds out the file to you, “How long were you planning to hide this from me,____?” 
For the first time in your life, you hate your name. You hate how bitter it sounds coming from his mouth like this.It has always been “____, you’re my everything,” “I love you,____”, “_____, you mean the world to me”.
Acid bubbles in your stomach at his words, and you can’t help but sob. You wonder if the butterfly was preparing you for this day. If she could talk, what would she have said to you? 
The words that leave him next might as well be daggers in your chest, "Tell me, honey. Is it the important thing you wanted to talk about but held back just to get a good fuck out of me?"
@fluttershy-vanilla @theyysam37 love you pookies. enjoy <3
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sematarygirls · 1 month ago
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   EX-CONVICT!BABYDADDY!RAFE x FEM!READER
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WARNINGS .ᐟ unprotected p in v, breeding kink if you squint, heavyyyy angst, rafe being an asshole (as per usual), brief mentions of guns/police raid and drugs
NOTES .ᐟ guys, i need him so bad, like actually. based on this concept from my silly little brain. dad!rafe stays in my mind 24/7, but this is me we're talking about, so of course, i had to put a lil spin on it. also this turned out way longer than i meant it to, woah
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After almost four years, you were finally starting to feel like you were getting your shit together. You were living in a nice house in a nice neighborhood where everyone knew everyone—the kind of place where people literally asked their neighbors for cups of sugar. You had a stable job that allowed you to live comfortably and provide for yourself and your daughter, and you had a big St. Bernard, lovingly named Moonshine after you'd watched one too many episodes of Moonshiners, that provided a sense of safety and security when the nights were cold and the paranoia started to creep into your mind.
Being a single mom was not easy, and it definitely hadn't been a part of your life plan, but then, you met Rafe Cameron—the ever charming, sweet talking man that he was. He swept you up and made you feel like the only girl in the world, like nothing else mattered as long as you were by his side, so when you found out you were pregnant, you were over the moon at the idea of starting a family with him.
But Rafe Cameron was a liar. He was selfish and manipulative, and he turned your life right on it's head.
You could still remember the day the police kicked in the door of your apartment, bursting in with guns drawn, pointed directly at you. You were eight months pregnant and having a gun pointed at you—at your baby—made you physically ill.
They had raided the apartment and found copious amounts of drugs. Your heart dropped, and you immediately felt like an idiot. How had you not known? You knew he made more money than he realistically should have, but the thought never even crossed your mind that this could be the reason. You were heartbroken and angry. Angry that he had lied. Angry that he put you in this position. And, angry that he was leaving you.
Rafe was arrested, and eventually charged with possession with intent to distribute due to the amount of drugs they found, which resulted in a five year sentence. You were sad and angry, not only because you were losing the man you always thought was the love of your life, but also because now, you were alone, and your daughter wouldn't know her father for the first five years of her life.
This anger and resentment festered, mixing with longing and a deep, aching sadness. You couldn't bring yourself to answer his calls or letters, let alone visit him. You didn't know who he was anymore. The man that you saw sporting handcuffs and an orange jumpsuit at his trial was not the same man you fell in love with, and you wouldn't pretend like he was.
You had known Rafe's release date was approaching, but you were under the impression that you still had a little over a year to plan on what you were going to do when it finally came. That's why you were so unsuspecting when you went to answer the harsh knock at your door.
It was a Thursday night, and you were cuddled up on the couch with Moonshine, who was practically the size of you. A horror movie was playing on the TV before you, one you'd seen practically a million times, and every few minutes, your gaze would flicker to the baby monitor on the coffee table that displayed the feedback from a camera in your daughter, Rhiannon's, room.
You jumped a little at the harsh sound of a knock on your front door, the horror movie already having you on edge. You could be paranoid sometimes, especially being a single mom, so realistically, you knew you shouldn't have been watching it so late at night, but they were your guilty pleasures that you couldn't indulge in the light of day because of your toddler.
Moonshine immediately jumped up, a low growl escaping his throat as his hair stood on end. Your brows furrowed at his odd behavior, pausing the movie and unfurling yourself from your comfortable position. Your steps were soft on the hardwood, your socks cushioning the sound as you padded over to the front door, patting the dog's head comfortingly as you unlocked the door, completely unaware with what would greet you on the other side.
As you opened the door, the cool night air hit you, carrying with it the faint scent of cigarette smoke. You blinked in surprise, expecting to see a neighbor, but instead, you found yourself face to face with Rafe Cameron.
Your eyes widened, the air knocked from your lungs as you took him in. He was changed, broader and more imposing, his muscles flexing under his tight black t-shirt as he crossed his arms. His hair was buzzed, his chiseled jawline sporting stubble that made him look older, more mature.
He looked so different, but still, somehow, the same. You were hit by a wave of emotions—longing, love, sadness, but most presently, anger. Who did he think he was showing up unannounced in the middle of the night after all these years, especially looking so unapologetic and devastatingly handsome.
His piercing blue eyes bore into yours, captivating and dangerous like a wave pulling you under when you least expected it. "Hey, baby," he greeted, his voice low and smooth, like honey dripping off his tongue. The term of endearment fell from his lips without any semblance of warmth as he stared at you with an intensity that made you want to shrink in on yourself.
"What are you doing here?" You asked, your jaw clenching and grip on the door's edge tightening. You shivered a little as the cold air bit at your bare skin, barely registering the low growls of Moonshine behind you due to your tunnel vision on the man standing before you.
He smirked confidently, knowing the effect he had on you—the effect he always had on you. His eyebrow arched as he took in your appearance, his eyes lingering on your bare thighs, courtesy of your pajama shorts. "Aren't you going to invite me in, sweetheart? It's been a long time." He took a step forward, his broad frame filling the doorway intimidatingly.
You swallowed hard, resisting the urge to step back and let him intimidate you into getting what he wanted. You craned your neck to look up at him, his close proximity looming over you, making him seem even taller and more imposing than he already was. "And whose fault is that?" You managed to say, despite the pit in your stomach—a mix of dread, anxiety, and strangely, desire.
Rafe's gaze sharpened, his eyes glinting dangerously. He uncrossed his arms and braced one hand on the doorframe beside your head, leaning in closer. It made your breath catch in your throat, but you held firm. You couldn't let him see that he was getting to you. "Let me in," he clenched his jaw. His anger at you for abandoning him in there had been bubbling up, and your defiance was bringing it to the surface.
A light flickering on in the house across the street caught your eye. Old lady Flanigan had a habit of making everyone else's business, her business, and she was a nasty gossip. Unless you wanted people talking, you either had to let him in or get him to leave, and one of those would be a nearly impossible feat. "Rafe, you can't be here. You can't just barge back into my life after all this time," you told him firmly, your own eyes blazing with a fiery intensity.
"And why not?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous. His body was practically vibrating with pent-up anger, his muscles taut as he leaned in closer, his breath fanning across your face. "Did you ever think about me? Did you ever think about what you did to us?"
"What I did?" You scoffed, anger bubbling up inside you at his accusation, blaming you as if he wasn't the one that went to prison and left you alone. "Are you fucking kidding me?" The old woman across the street was now shamelessly watching through her window, and you knew you had no choice but to let him in before her nosey ass called the cops on the strange, clearly out of place man lurking in the neighborhood.
He followed your eyes, looking over his shoulder to the nosy neighbor, his expression darkening. Without another word, he pushed past you, entering the house and forcing you to step back.
Your jaw clenched at his blatant disregard or respect for your wishes as you gently closed the door behind you. Moonshine barked, baring his teeth at the intruder, clearly sensing the tension and jumping into action to protect his family. "Moonshine, stop," you told him firmly. You were proud of him, but you didn't want his barking to wake Rhiannon. The last thing you could deal with right now was Rafe and a crying toddler. You could only focus on one temper tantrum at a time.
Rafe's eyes narrowed as he watched you control your dog, a muscle ticking in his jaw. His gaze then swept the interior of your home, taking in every detail as if memorizing it. "Nice place," he commented flatly, turning back to face you. "Where's my kid?"
You took a deep breath, your gaze hard at him calling your daughter his kid, like he had any right. He didn't even know her name or that she was a girl. "She's asleep," you told him, crossing your arms over your chest.
His piercing eyes bore into yours, unyielding. "Her name." he demanded gruffly.
"Rhiannon," you informed him hesitantly, your gaze darting to the monitor on the coffee table, making sure she was still asleep.
His expression flickered briefly, a flash of something softer, almost vulnerable, in his eyes before it was quickly concealed. He nodded once. "I want to see her." It wasn't a request. His posture remained tense and coiled, ready to react to your response.
You huffed, running a hand through your hair and heading to the kitchen with him hot on your heels. Maybe you wanted to busy yourself. Maybe you wanted an excuse not to have to look at him. Maybe you just wanted to walk away from him, to assert some kind of power. Either way, your next words were spoken with your back to him. "I told you. She's asleep. It's the middle of the fucking night, Rafe, what did you expect?"
He followed you into the kitchen, his presence overwhelming in the small space. The air felt charged, thick with unspoken words and unresolved tension. "I don't give a fuck what time it is," he growled, his voice low and intense. "I've missed four years of her life already."
You rounded the kitchen island, planting your hands on it as you turned to face him, feeling more comfortable with the counter between you. Not because you were scared of him but because, despite yourself and despite your anger, you longed to touch him and have him touch you. "And whose fucking fault is that, huh?" You asked angrily, echoing your earlier words that he had ignored.
Rafe's expression darkened, his jaw clenching as he stared back at you. The muscle in his jaw clenched as he ground his teeth together, trying to rein in his anger. "Yours," he bit out. "You left me in there," he accused.
"You left me out here!" Your voice raised slightly before you caught yourself, letting out a hard breath. The only way you could keep yourself from getting sad, from crying over the loss of the only man you'd ever truly loved, was getting angry at him.
"You think I wanted to go to prison?" He hissed, rounding the island and backing you against the counter. "You think I had a fucking choice?"
"You did have a choice," you said sharply, bracing your hands on the counter behind you as you stared up at him. "You chose to deal drugs, and you chose to keep dealing even after you found out I was pregnant. Prison was just the consequence of all your shitty choices."
His hand came up, slamming on the cabinet beside your head, the sound making you jump slightly. "And what about you?" He seethed, his chest heaving as his breath came in short, angry bursts. "What about your choices, huh? You could've waited for me."
"I did what I had to do," you said, glaring at him. You weren't quite sure what else to say. You had to protect yourself, your own feelings, and your child. You couldn't have stayed in touch, sick with worry every night while you soothed a colicky baby all by yourself. You had to forget him; it was better that way, easier.
"What you had to do," he repeated, his voice dripping with sarcasm and the faintest hint of hurt. "You moved on pretty quick, didn't you? Found some new dick to warm your bed, is that it?"
"Fuck you," you spat, the words stabbing you like a knife to the heart. You hadn't been able to bring yourself to even look at another man since he went away. You told yourself it was just because of Rhiannon, that you were focusing on raising her and being the best mother you could be, but deep down, you knew it was because your heart would always belong to Rafe.
"Is that it?" he repeated, his face inches from yours. His voice was low, his eyes searching yours for something. "You found some other man to replace me?"
"Maybe I have," you said stubbornly. You knew you were being petty, wanting him to hurt like you hurt, but you also knew you were a shit liar, so there was no way in hell he would actually believe you. "Maybe I have moved on."
His other hand shot out, gripping your chin roughly as he forced you to look at him. "Bullshit," he growled, looking down at you, his blue eyes darkened. "I can see it in your eyes. You haven't moved on to shit."
You stared up at him defiantly, your chest heaving with anger, which only intensified when you felt the wetness between your thighs. Even after all this time, all it took was a look and a simple touch to get you so wet, and as much as you hated it, you couldn't deny that something about his post-prison appearance—how rugged and large he was—made your knees week.
His hand tightened on your chin as he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in a brutal, demanding kiss. It was clear he was angry, punishing you for the words you'd spoken, and you knew you should've pushed him away—yelled at him and told him to get the fuck out of your house—but you didn't.
Instead, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as you kissed him with an intensity that matched the war going on within you—the jumbled mess of love and hate that he had brought up within you.
He groaned into the kiss, his hands gripping your face roughly as he devoured your mouth. He pushed you further back against the counter that was now digging into your lower back, his body pinning you in place. You could feel his anger, his frustration, his desperation, and it only fueled your own emotions.
The kiss was raw and charged with a passionate mix of need, longing, and pure, unbridled anger, both of you trying to show the other that this wasn't a surrender of power or giving into the other and accepting blame. The kiss itself was an argument, a fight all of its own that didn't require words.
He hands went to your hips, lifting you onto the counter and stepping between your parted legs. Tearing his mouth from yours, he began kissing along your jawline and down the column of your throat. His lips were hot and insistent, his teeth nipping at your skin as he continued to mark you.
You panted, your chest heaving for an entirely different reason now as you let out soft gasps and breathy sounds of approval, your head falling back against the cabinet behind your head. You had forgotten how good he was with his mouth, always knowing exactly how to drive you wild.
He took advantage of the exposed column of your throat, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. His hands gripped your thighs, pulling you to the edge of the counter. You let out a low moan, your nails raking against his buzzed scalp. As sexy as he looked with a buzzcut, you wished you could run your fingers through his hair, tugging on it slightly everytime he touched you just right.
"Mmm," he hummed against your skin, his voice a low vibration that seemed to go straight to your core. He kissed his way back up to your mouth, his hips pushing forward to press his hardness against your core. "Did you forget how good I am, baby?"
You internally rolled your eyes at his cocky tone, like he had won. "God, do you ever shut up?" You asked, sounding less annoyed and effective since you were still breathless from his kisses.
His hips thrust forward again, making an involuntary whine fall from your lips at the feeling. "Not when I'm right." He smirked, his eyes crinkling at the corners. His smirk was as frustratingly handsome as it had always been, and it made you want to smack him and kiss him all at once. "And I am."
"Don't be a dickhead," you glared at him, his arrogance and your own unyielding need for him only heightening your frustration. You were desperate and aching for him, but you refused to give in and beg him like you wanted to.
"Then quit acting like you're not soaking wet for me." His grip on your thighs tightened, calloused fingers digging into the soft flesh. "I bet if I slipped my hand into your shorts, I'd find you drenched and ready for me, wouldn't I?"
His smug tone infuriated you and turned you on all at once. "Shut up, Rafe," you demanded, balling your fist into the fabric of his shirt and pulling him closer, so you could press your lips to his, forcing him to shut up and quit pissing you off.
Your grip on his shirt loosened, hand sliding down his hard, muscular chest to his waistband. You had always seen the trope of guys working out their frustrations in prison movies, but you didn't know that was actually a thing. Your fingers fumbled with his belt as he slipped his tongue into your mouth, sliding it along yours in a way that had you moaning against his lips
He groaned low in his throat as you finally worked the belt buckle open, sliding the leather through the loops and dropping it to the floor with a clank. His hands immediately slid up your thighs, hooking into the waistband of your shorts and pulling them down your legs—with the help of you awkwardly shifting to lift your ass enough to do so.
He discarded the garments to the floor with his belt, his palms running along your bare thighs as he parted your legs wider, opening you to him. His calloused fingertips brushed against your center, feeling your slick folds, making you gasp into his mouth. "Told you," he grinned against your lips, finding it in himself to be a complete dick, even when he was about to be inside you.
"Asshole," you mumbled, fingers deftly popping open the button of his jeans and unzipping them. You hooked your fingers in his waistband, shoving his pants and underwear down as he had done to you.
He kicked his pants and boxers off the rest of the way, stepping between your thighs again. His hard cock was flushed, the tip glistening with precum. He gripped himself at the base, rubbing the head through your slick folds teasingly. "What was that, baby?"
Your breath caught in your throat. "Just put your dick inside me before I kill you," you threatened him, though you both knew you wouldn't do anything, not really.
He chuckled lowly, the sound sending shivers down your spine. "You want it so bad, don't you?" He teased, his tip nudging against your entrance but not pushing inside. "Beg for it, baby. Let me hear how much you need my cock." He didn't need to be angry when he could punish you like this. He knew begging was the last thing you wanted to do, but he also knew that you'd do it.
"Don't piss me off right now, Rafe," you gritted your teeth, the feeling of him against your entrance making you dizzy with desire.
"Or what, baby? You'll what?" He pressed against you again, the tip of his cock pushing inside just slightly before pulling back out. "Tell me what you'll do if I don't give you what you want." He was pushing your buttons, knowing exactly how to make you snap.
You practically whimpered at the feeling of him pulling out. "Fuck- fine, please, Rafe," you panted, furious with yourself and him that you were giving into him. "Please just fuck me already."
The confident, victorious smirk that instantly appeared on his face had you wanting to slap him. "Now was that so hard?" He condescend. Your annoyed retort died in your throat as he finally pushed into you, making you moan, your head falling back against the cupboard at the feeling of him inside you after so long.
He groaned as your tight heat enveloped him, his fingers digging into your thighs hard enough to bruise as he started to move. His body tensed, using every ounce of his self control not to cum on the spot. Four years of fucking himself in his hand was nothing compared to the way you were squeezing him right now.
One hand moved up to your mouth, muffling your growing moans and whines. "Shh," he cooed. You were thankful for it. You knew you had to be quiet, but the way he was pounding into you made it nearly impossible.
"Did you miss me, baby?" He leaned down, breathing hotly against your neck as he nipped at your throat. "Did you lay awake at night thinking about me stretching you like this?" He flexed his hips, driving deep inside you.
You nodded, letting out a muffled "mhm" against his palm as your back arched into him. He felt so good, better than you'd remembered, and you hadn't had sex in four years, so you were so worked up.
"Good," he purred, his teeth scraping against your skin as he continued to pound into you relentlessly. "Because I missed you too, baby. Missed this tight little cunt wrapped around my dick." The hand on your thigh dipped down between your legs, his calloused thumb rubbing circles on your clit.
You gasped against his palm, your eyes rolling back at the mix of sensations. You were already so pathetically close, feeling that familiar aching deep within you.
He could feel your weepy cunt starting to flutter around him, and he was more than glad that you were so close so quickly because he didn't know how much longer he could hold back. "Gonna cum inside this pretty little pussy, baby. Gonna get you pregnant again, and this time I'm not gonna miss a damn thing"
His words turned you on more than they should have, snapping that coil inside you and sending you over the edge. You tensed around his dick, feeling your orgasm wash over you as you cried out his name.
"Shit, baby," he groaned, burying his face into your neck, his facial hair tickling your skin as he pushed himself deep inside you, painting your insides white with his release. His breath was hot against your already heated skin, a thin layer of sweat coating both your bodies as he slowly softened inside you.
Your chest rose and fell rapidly as you tried to catch your breath, his hand falling from your mouth to brace himself on the counter. You couldn't believe that after all these years of promising yourself you wouldn't let him back into your life, you had so easily opened your legs and even let him cum inside you—because clearly that worked out so well for you last time.
He stayed buried inside you for a moment, enjoying the warmth and the feeling of finally being home where he belonged. He eventually pulled out, his softening dick slipping from your tender cunt.
You had to tell him that he couldn't stay, that it would confuse Rhiannon to wake up to a strange man in the house, but you didn't know how, not after what just happened.
He stepped back, allowing you to get down from the counter. A silence fell over both of you as you got dressed, neither one knowing what happens now. He finished buttoning up his jeans, his eyes flicking up to you as he ran a hand over his buzzed head. "So... what now?" He asked gruffly, breaking the silence.
"You can't- you have to go," you told him, pulling your shorts back up and crossing your arms. It seemed unfair to say such a thing after sharing such an intimate moment, but you needed to think of your daughter. She didn't even know who Rafe was.
"You're kicking me out?" He echoed, as if he couldn't believe it. "After... that?" He gestured vaguely, a muscle in his jaw ticking.
You pinched the bridge of your nose, both of you finding yourselves right back where you started. "You cant just... be here. Rhiannon doesn't even know who you are." The words seemed cruel as soon as they left your lips, but they were true. You wished they weren't, but they were.
"I know. Fuck, I know that. Don't you think I know that?" He was frustrated, your words like a slap to the face. "But goddamn it, I want to know her. I want to be a part of her life."
"I'm not saying you can't be, but... she's four, Rafe. She's old enough that you can't just walk in and call yourself her father," you told him firmly. "It's going to take time. I don't want to overwhelm her."
"Time?" He asked incredulously. Deep down, he knew you were right, that you were doing what was best, but he was so angry at himself, and instead of facing that anger and acknowledging that this was his own doing, he was taking it out on you. "I've already missed four fucking years. First steps, first words, first everythings."
"I can't keep going in circles with you, Rafe," you ran your hand through your hair, utterly exhausted. "You do this my way, or you don't do this at all." It hurt you to be so cold. You wanted Rhiannon to know her father, but she was just a kid. She wouldn't understand why her dad just showed up out of the blue, and you didn't know how to explain it to her.
He stared at you, his face unreadable. For a long moment, neither of you said anything. Then, he spoke, his voice low. "Alright. Fine. Your way. But you better not shut me out again. I'm not gonna miss anymore. Understand?"
You nodded, thankful that he was going to stop fighting you on this. "Do you have a-a number or something?" You asked, unsure how long he'd been out, if he got his phone back and was able to pay the bill or if he bought a burner. You didn't even know where he was staying.
He shoved his hands in his pockets. "It's the same as my old one," he said gruffly, clearly annoyed by your previous ultimatum.
"Right, okay," you nodded, your fingers drumming against your upper arm. You two stood in silence for a long moment. Rafe didn't want to leave, and you didn't want to tell him to.
Rafe's gaze fell to the floor, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed thickly. "Can I see her before I go?" He asked softly. "Just... just to see her."
There was a shift in his demeanor, a vulnerability about him that told you he really did care about Rhiannon, even if he'd never met her. "Yeah," you found yourself nodding, turning to lead him to her room. As you entered the living room, you could've sworn Moonshine was giving a disapproving side eye. "Don't judge me," you mumbled.
He followed you down the hallway, his heavy boots thudding on the floor. He paused in the doorway of Rhiannon's room, looking in on her sleeping form. She was curled up on her side in a princess toddler bed, her little arms wrapped around a stuffed cat. Rafe's expression softened as he took her in.
His eyes swept over the room, the nightlight plugged into the wall illuminating the space. The walls were painted a light shade of pink, toys strewn about. A small bookshelf sat tucked in the corner, various children's books inside, some sitting on the floor in front of it.
He stepped into the room, moving closer to the bed. He crouched down, his eyes fixed on Rhiannon's sleeping face as he reached out, his large hand gentle as he brushed a strand of hair from her forehead. "She's so little," he murmured softly, almost reverently.
You leaned on the doorway, a small, sad smile pulling at your lips as you watched the exchange. You found yourself wondering what life would have been like if Rafe never got locked up, your heart aching as you thought about sharing all of Rhiannon's firsts with someone, bickering over whether she would've said mommy or daddy first. The wobbly first steps, the soothing and band-aid applications after she scraped her knees. What would it have been like to share those moments with him?
Rafe's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "She's beautiful." He turned his head to look at you, and you saw the sheen of moisture in his eyes. He blinked it away quickly, clearing his throat as he stood, masking his emotions as he always had. "I should go."
You hesitated, for a moment wanting to throw everything you'd said out the window and tell him to stay, but you knew you couldn't. You just nodded, letting him push past you. You didn't move from your spot, even after you heard the front door open and shut. You simply closed your eyes, leaning your head against the doorframe as a few tears rolled down your cheeks.
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venmondiese · 2 months ago
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SUBTLE LOVE, DARING WORDS
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masterlist ✧works in procress ✧ AO3
-ˋˏsummary: Aemond is in no hurry to take a wife, yet once he realizes that he doesn't value what he has until he might lose it, he takes action. (based on THIS request!)
✧Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Lannister!Reader.
✧word count: 3.1k
✧tags: fluff and comfort, aemond is BAD at feelings, reader doesn't really admit anything either, slight? slowburn?, overall fluffy!!, this is really vague about in which year happens, lol
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The first time he met you it was in the library.
He had his mind on the whole commotion at court, the tournament which he had refused to entertain, much to his mother's dislike because of his position as a royal. To him, it seems like a foolery, as if he was willing to participate in making himself a fool such as Mushroom. 
When he came to the library, intending to search for a book to comfort himself, he found a lady leaning down one of the staircases, where there were lots of books stacked only for maesters, with him as an exception… but not a lady surely, less one that seemed to be looking for something below. He was astonished, for many reasons. 
He watched her big, puffy dress, in rich red velvet and gold details. It was definitely a Westerlands style, so he was more confused as to why she was in this part of the library, only for maesters, and… well, him. How did the guards allow her to enter? How did she do it so confidently, as if he couldn’t make her life hell for it?
“Ehem” he scoffs, as if trying to get her away. The least of his worries was having a lady on the forbidden library corner… for now. “Get out. You are in a forbidden part”
“I am aware” your voice comes from down the staircase you had even moved some books! That made him slightly… annoyed.  As you move your head out to see the prince above you, and you make a movement with your head as if doing a courtesy. “My prince”
He was not amused, at all. You had green eyes, and the most golden hair he had seen in ages. The small lions on your dress allowed him to know who you were: A Lannister. And he definitely never wanted to deal with any of your kin. 
“And I said-”
“My cat is down there” you say, as if he cared. 
“Okay. Take it out of here”
“I can’t” you say simply, watching him with a grin. “She seems to be in labour. I didn’t know she was pregnant at all…”
He has many questions, and he frowns at your reasoning. He would take the cat and throw it out himself if he had to. 
“It is your cat, just take it away”
“Well, my father gave her to me two weeks ago!” You make a face, almost whining about it. Of course he could know which Lannister is your father. “I didn’t know she was pregnant, and she is still getting used to me. She will scratch me, more if I get closer to her babies”
“A scratch won’t kill you”
“Just sit” you say softly, watching the cat and sitting on the ground to wait. “You can even keep one of the baby cats”
“My grandsire has brought enough cats already” Aemond says, walking to grab some wine for him and the lady. He wasn't impolite to be rude to a lady, much less one with your status and beauty. “They come to my bed when I am sleeping, and I wake up to cats in my chest”
“Well, I think they are cute” You say, taking the cup of wine, thanking him as you sip the wine. “Cats are felines, like lions. So I think having a cat is reasonable, better than a lion”
“Don’t you want one?”
“I have one back at home” you say shrugging, smiling widely. “He is called Brightroar”  
Of course you named it like the ancient weapon of Lannisters. “And this one?” 
“I wanted to call it Brightroar second, but it turned out to be a she. So she is just called Gemma” 
He can’t deny that he is amused, watching you being so nonchalant about it all, as if you owned the world. He raises an eyebrow as he has a slight smirk, as he sits near. 
“Gemma” he scoffs. “A very…”
“Lannister name” you say smugly. 
“Hm. I was going to say… common, perhaps” he adds.
“You would love for Lannisters to be commoners, my prince. Yet you seem to rely on our gold” you notice, raising one eyebrow. So you weren’t a silly lady, he realises, you had the wits.
“Hmm… Our gold seems a bit excessive, my lady. It is your father who is the head of your house” he reminds you, leaning back on his chair. 
You smile softly. He thinks you are Cerelle, probably. Mostly because you know Cerelle was still a kid and never been presented to the royal court.
“Mine or not, I still am more entitled to it.”
“I have a dragon.” He adds, as if this was a debate between you both. He was actually enjoying it. He had totally the wrong impression of you and he… was enjoying it. “The biggest dragon”
“Yeah, and?” 
“And I could burn your silly little castle” he shrugs, taking a dip of wine. 
“No, you could not” 
“I’m pretty sure I can”
“No, actually. I know you haven’t gone out of these four walls and this... city, my prince, but I remind you out of the kindness of my heart: Casterly Rock is literally… a rock” 
Aemond rolls his good eye, yet his smirk doesn’t leave his face. As if your cat was forgotten, he keeps on his point. 
“As if has stopped a dragon before” Aemond says simply. “Because I am as kind I shall remind you of Harrenhal, perhaps?” 
“And I shall remind you that Harrenhal is a castle made of rocks.” She shrugs softly. “Not exactly a rock. Casterly Rock is literally a castle inside a rock.”
“Some parts are out of it”
“Not the part where we keep our gold, not really”
Aemond squints his eye, and you look back at him. You amused him, looking like a defiant cat that got away with their mischief. It was fun to see, and he could hear the wails of your cat. You didn’t seem worried, neither was he. Perhaps that was the circle of life, and you knew your cat would manage. 
As you speak of such trivial matters, waiting for your cat to end her labours, he couldn’t help but admire your wits, as much as your beauty. Your velvet gown, of a strong red and some gold details did wonders with your appearance, and your brains only made you brighter. 
“What are you doing here?” It was Tyland Lannister, coming with a Maester behind, probably who sneaked your position in a forbidden library. “You know ladies can’t be here” 
“Father... My cat is giving birth” You say, frowning as if it was the most obvious thing. 
“My prince” Tyland makes a courtesy to him, a bit rigid and tense. You had heard how the prince would often terrorise your father, making him do the silliest things as if that amused him. Your uncle Jason often had a laugh about it. 
“I was not aware your daughter was…” Aemond says, turning his gaze to you “All grown up”
He knew about you, but your father talked about you as if you were a babe. You were practically his own age, for what he could tell.
“Yes, my little lion is certainly… grown” Tyland agrees, his hand on your hair as he spoke. “Come on; let’s not bother the prince…”
“It is not a bother” Aemond cuts him, serving himself more wine. “She is rather amusing”
“How dare you-!” You say, offended as you come to your defence.
“Sweetie” Your father tries to calm you, with a tense smile as if telling you to shut up.
“I am not a jester” 
“No one said you were” Aemond says, amused as he smirks. 
“You are such a…”
“Apologise” your father murmurs. 
“But fath-”
“You heard me”
“I am sorry, my prince” You say mockingly, and he smirks, even more amused.
Tyland seemed as if he was about to have a stroke, because he had enough things on his plate, and he didn’t need the prince making his life at the small council harder. 
Aemond sees Gemma, bringing her cats to show you how they were, all of them bloody, and squirmy, a bit pink and small. You petted them as you didn’t mind the blood.
“Come on. Servants will need to clean the blood” Tyland says, making a notion for you to stand up “Grab the kittens and let’s go”
“Ew, no. They are all bloody” You say frowning. “You take them” 
How lady-like. He thinks, as you didn't seem to mind the blood two seconds ago.
Even with your persistence, your father took the small and weak kittens, and your cat kept meowing at him as if he would kill him. 
“How did your cat even come here to give birth?” Your father asks as he tries to not get Gemma to kill him.
“I have no idea, father…” You say, and Aemond sees you standing up. 
He sees the pile of books in your hands, behind your back as you walk behind your father. You smart wench, he thinks, as you had just successfully stolen forbidden books by setting up your cat to give birth here. You even had him fooled. No one else notices, since your dress was puffy enough, and he noticed it by shamelessly trying to see your ass. 
You watch him, and press your index finger in your lips, as you walk behind your father and his complaints about your cat. 
“Do not bother the prince, darling” Tyland says once you get out of the library.
“I think he is quite handsome” you admit, when you know the prince won’t hear you. You father watches you shrug, walking forward him, not allowing him to see your hands. He sighs, as Gemma starts meowing loudly. 
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While the rest of your interactions have been brief, he notices that you are more of a troublemaker than you let yourself look. You had that mischievous smirk always, arching your eyebrows in such a way when you had a plan. 
Yet, you were sweet. He notices how you play with your cousins, Cerelle, braiding her hair, and with Loreon, the small heir to Casterly Rock, a kid that enjoyed running around, and you often entertained his antics. 
“And there will be so many ladies, Aemond. In this time, we need alliances…” His mother says, as they walked through the castle. He hears the step of Cole behind them, guarding them, and probably hearing how his mother tried to make him a lovebird.
“It does not interest me”
“It doesn’t have to interest you. It is a matter of duty-”
“I won’t marry, mother.” Aemond shrugs, as if that was the way of his life. “Not yet. I have things ahead of me yet” 
“You inscribed on the tourney?” The queen inquires, curious. 
“No” he says shrugging, slyly trying to seek for you in the royal box, to no avail. “I am not in a hurry.”
He greeted noble ladies, of course. As he was seated on the royal box, bored and waiting, he could see girl after girl doing courtesy and smiling in a flirty way to him. It did not amuse him, and he was polite enough, almost rude. 
“She is trying really hard, you know” A voice joins his thoughts. It is you, sitting by the empty chair by his side, where Aegon is supposed to be, but he never is on time.
“Who isn’t?” He rolls his eye.
“I didn’t know you were so in demand. High valued. Sought after” you list, as you fan yourself as it was indeed a hot day. 
“Very amusing” He murmurs.
“Come on, my prince. There must be a lady who catches your attention.” 
“I am not blind” he says, rolling his good eye. “Of course there are women I find beautiful”
“Oh my... Having feelings now, congratulations, the Seven indeed are capable of the most... unthinkable miracles”
“You just woke up being so funny” he says, looking at you, raising his eyebrow, yet the small way his lips curved allowed you to know he was amused.
“I am always funny, my prince” you say watching the crowd get settled, squinting your eyes due to the sun. “My cats are good, thanks for asking. Gemma is quite the mother, even if she tried to eat one of them.”
"How... vivid." He says, raising his eyebrows in slight disgust.
"I saved them. Since they are four, I named them: Elia, Joy, Alyssa and Teora"
"And what if one of those silly cats was to be a male?" he asks, as if seeing a flaw in your cat-naming thing.
"Pff, none of them will be. I know it. And if they are, I won't change the names"
He remains quiet, surprised by how bold and petulant you could be. It was amusing to him, and he enjoyed talking to you more than he cared to admit.
“You stole from the library.” he reminds you.
“I have no idea what you are about” you say, still looking at the crowd, smiling softly. The red of your dress made your gold hair bright even more. “Ladies do not read such matters”
“Yeah, right. You are unlike any lady”
“Quite the contrary” you finally turn to see him “I am just like any other lady” you says, smiling. "It just happens that I am friends with the prince, so I am allowed to speak freely"
"Who said..." He says, opening his mouth and turning his face to you, a bit impressed by your silliness "How come you think... you suppose that we are friends?"
"Since you have neither sneaked about the time at the library, or told me to shut up and leave you alone, it is a logical conclusion, if we have in mind your previous reputation to anyone else." You say smiling. "And do not worry, if you do not consider me as such, doesn't matter, because I do and I appreciate you even if you hate me"
"You are..." He scoffs, grinning like a fool "Unbelievable"
"I know. One of my many charms. That and being a matchmaker. I love it. It is wonderful to make couples at court, and more if they end up together, being all happy and..."
“Huh.” He hums, thinking of how odd you were. “Talking about the wonders of a married life”
“I didn’t say that. I merely stated that… marriage isn’t the worst. I intend to find a husband very soon as well. I would very much like to be a wife”
“I shall pray for the poor soul who calls you wife” He murmurs as he looks at the field below, where the knights were preparing, yet you hear his grumbles. 
“And I shall pray to see prince Aemond besotted for a lady” you say teasingly, standing up, not before doing a small courtesy and leave to sit by your father, who had just arrived, frowning a bit as to why you were with prince Aemond.
The tournament does not bore him at all. He is very into the way the fight develops, and he takes mental notes when he sees some weaknesses in the participants. He regrets, just a bit, not joining, because he thinks he could have won. 
He sees you, on the seats below him, jumping in excitement as the fight develops. You are into it very much, clapping and screaming as any commoner does outside the royal box. It was improper, but it was… cute. 
He can see the rest, clapping politely, not overly excited yet proper for the occasion. You were unlike the rest, yet at the same time, you were just like any lady. It amazed him, and he did not understand.
He soon realises that he is not the only one that has you in mind, when the winner of the tournament comes closer to the stands, riding triumphantly in circles while the audience cheers him on, the crown of the Queen of Love and Beauty on his lance.
“The Winner, Ser Dale Dondarrion shall find his Queen of Love and Beauty”
He hesitates for some moments, he thinks he shall name his niece Jaehaera to win the favour of the royal house, like his ancestor once did to little princess Daenerys at the early reign of King Jaehaerys. 
Yet his smile faints when he sees that the queen of beauty’s laurel falls into your lap. 
“Lady Lannister, I hope I am deserving of dedicating my victory for you, and shall your reign be full of joy, even if lasting one night”
You take the wreath of flowers, almost jumping in sight and squealing some thanks as Tyland accommodates the crown onto your braided hair. Your crowning came with an ovation full of applause, from the box and from the commoners… but him. 
It was an odd feeling, stirring something in him, as he watches your cheeks pink from the compliments of all, and most of all; having a suitor. Being named queen of love and beauty was not anything like a dull compliment of court merely because it was proper. It was being publicly courted, and often something many ladies wished, because there was no better feeling than being shown off to everyone. 
He was quiet the rest of the day. Humming when ladies talked to him, in hopes to gain his attention and be courted; when Aegon mocked him; when Helaena placed one of her bugs in his lap, which Maelor ended up squeezing on his grip; when his mother presented him a lady of a high castle with expensive clothes and a sweet behaviour, pure, and devoted. He paid little attention to it all.
It was when your reign was coming to an end that he asks for Tyland to come to the empty throne room. He was watching the throne, carefully inspecting it, as he calculated of his next words. He was being irrational, clearly driven by his emotions and desperation rather than the logically he usually had. 
“My prince” 
Tyland was no stranger to the formalities of court, yet he never let himself be intimidated by lords that tried to impose themselves. He was the second son, yet he had established a name for himself and earned respect in his position; there was nothing for him to feel belittled about
Yet intimidation comes natural with prince Aemond around. 
He has the impression that his one eye is wide open, and the smirk that naturally was on his lip was one of amusement in the suffering of the rest. Always stoic, never doing things out of impulsivity... Which was even worse. His hands behind his back, as he remained as still as a statue.
It did not frighten him, but he knew Aemond was as cold as unforgiving. And slicing his head won’t make the prince feel regret.
“Lord Tyland” Aemond greets him softly. 
A silence follows, as Tyland feels his hand sweating slightly. “An idea for the small council?” He tries to guess. “I am sure it can wait, my prince, I should be with my daughter, since it’s her day…”
“Exactly. That’s what I wanted to speak about”
Tyland is a smart man, and he quickly realises the problem.
“I know she can be presumptuous and slightly spoiled, my prince” He starts, feeling Aemond’s eye on him as he turns to face him. “She takes the title too seriously, when it isn’t, Mushroom was just hyping her up, and she is just still a girl, and I apologise on her behalf for trying to impose herself as Queen, when her reign only lasts for a day, and she really is…”
“I want to marry her” Aemond tells Tyland simply. “Her reign shall not end. She can be a princess.”
Lannisters usually aren’t left speechless. They had never been known for their silence, yet here he is, silent.
“Ser Dondarrion made the same proposal hours earlier, my prince, and I…”
“And you will allow your daughter to marry a Ser instead of a prince? I have already told you. I want to be her husband” He insists, his tone not certainly soft as he loses patience. His soul craves you. He needs to be yours. He can’t let you go away. “She is smart and she has the wits. She is spoiled, and she loves to have her way. She is kind, sweet, and funny. And I want to be her husband and give her anything she asks for. Is that so hard to get?”
What wakes up Queen Alicent is her son with a stoic expression, not even entering her rooms to speak.
“I was wrong” He says simply “I shall marry Lady Lannister, mother. I am in a hurry. So I ask you to prepare the wedding. Good night and Seven blessings”
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Almost a year later is when your father comes closer to your chambers once again, seeing how your ladies in waiting do a courtesy out of politeness, and he watches prince Aemond at your door, waiting for him.
“Came as fast as I could…”
“Hm” Aemond says, as he walks toward the open doors.
Tyland could have his distance with Prince Aemond, but he couldn’t deny how good a husband he was. He wasn’t a man of many emotions, in his perspective, yet he was a devoted husband. He danced as many times you wanted in the ceremony, sighing every time you made him stand up from his seat. He didn’t wear the eye patch on your wedding, just as you requested.
“That is the worst idea ever, darling” He said to you, and you rolled your eyes. 
“Well, he will have to if he wants to marry me”
And so he did. When you wanted to travel to Volantis, he arranged it all. When you wanted for him to meet Brightroar, he took Vhagar and rode into the Westerlands with you. 
“Was it all well?”
“Everyone in the castle heard a lion roar” Aemond says walking past the maesters. 
You seemed so little, in Tyland’s eyes, all sweaty and tired, like the time you got so sick he was afraid you would die. He had brought the very best maesters he could find, just to assure you were safe. 
“It is a girl” It’s the first thing you say to your father, smiling a bit. “A healthy baby”
Tyland leans, to kiss your forehead, as you extend your babe to him. It was a small thing, yet chubby and all pink still. She had small, silver hair, very thin, but present. He could see the little gold spot, as if gold hair would grow on some of her hair. It was indeed curious, and yet he couldn’t think she was anything but perfect.
“A bit squirmy” He comments, as the baby yawns, opening her mouth as she whines slightly. 
As he tries to coo the small thing, he watches how Aegon sits by your side, at the edge of the bed, passing his hand behind your shoulders to caress your shoulder. You lean against him a bit, and say.
“It is a pain to breastfeed, why didn’t you tell me?”
He chuckles a bit awkwardly, he had never gotten used to your bluntness and honesty. “I never knew anything about that”
“Well, it is. I thought babies knew how to do it, but she takes a long time” You say, looking up at Aemond.
“She is still very little, my love” Aemond reminds you. 
“I know, but what if I am doing it wrongly? Mothers usually know those things, and I find myself clueless. Aunt Joanna says it comes naturally, but she has successfully raised kids who have survived childhood.” You say, looking at Aemond. “So has your mother. How comes I don’t know?”
“Because you are a mother from little more than a day.” Aemond reminds you “And they had help. So you do. You have me, of course. You have wet nurses, maids, maesters, and my own mother and of course, you have the brightest mind. We’ll do”
“Did you know Aemond cried, father?” You tell him, and he finally looks away from his little granddaughter. 
He blinks, a bit confused, watching the prince. “Oh, did he?” 
“Yeah, it was rather cute” Aemond rolls his eye amused, as your hand was on his knee. 
“It’s the only natural response.” Tyland says, his finger caressing the skin of the sleeping babe, who squirmed a bit at the feeling, like a cat. “She is delightful. Have you named her?”
Aemond looks at you, amused, expecting you to answer the question. You had the smug grin on your face, and nodded. “We had a deal. If she had golden hair, she would have a Targaryen name. If she had silver hair, she would have a Lannister name”
“And?”
“Well, she is rather… peculiar. She had silver hair, but you can see how some gold hair has grown too? It is the oddest of things, but the Maesters said it was natural. You know how cats have different hair colours?”
“Don’t compare her to a cat” Tyland makes a face, softly rocking her in his arms.
“She has both silver and gold.” Aemond says, as if reminding you to keep on trail. 
“Ah, yes. Since it’s most silver, we agreed on something that you will find the brightest things, father.” You look at your husband and then your father. “Gaemma. It’s a bit… weird to say it, but with time it shall be delightful”
Tyland looks at you, and he blinks. “Like your cat?”
“Well, thanks to her I and Aemond met.” You remind him. “She deserves some credit” You add.
“I like it” he murmurs. “Don’t make your mama lose her mind” He says, as the baby yawn, extending her arms. 
“She will, after all she is her mother’s daughter” Aemond says, taking her back, and he adds “You should have seen how loud she wailed once she came.”
“I am here, world. Hear me roar” you say, as if trying to translate Gaemma’s cries. You smile widely, and Tyland knows that even if you were always going to be his little girl, you were in the best hands, and that Aemond adored the ground you walked on. Even if you name their child after your cat. 
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astrxq · 2 months ago
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Soulbound Flames
jacaerys velaryon x reader
words: 15.7k
notes: based on this request!
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In the shadowed corners of Westeros, where the ancient blood of Old Valyria still held sway, stories of soulmates and dragon bonds had long been whispered but seldom believed. These tales, passed down through generations like precious heirlooms, spoke of a connection so profound that it transcended the already miraculous bond between dragon and rider. It was said that in those ancient times, a dragon could sense the one person who was destined for their rider – a rare and almost mystical connection, deeper and more profound than anything known to the world of men.
But those days were long past, faded into the mists of time and legend. Few alive still entertained such tales, dismissing them as fantastical relics of a bygone era. Now, these stories were spoken of only in quiet corners, among the old and the hopeful, or in the halls of Rhaenyra's court, where intrigue thrummed like a low, constant hum beneath the surface of daily life.
You were no stranger to these whispered legends, though you had never expected to find yourself at the heart of one. The very notion seemed absurd, a flight of fancy better suited to the dreams of children than the harsh realities of life in the Seven Kingdoms. 
You had grown up in the court of Princess Rhaenyra, a place where politics and power wove through every interaction like golden threads in a tapestry. Your father, a man of keen intellect and unwavering loyalty, had been a member of her council for as long as you could remember. He was deeply entrenched in the delicate dance of alliances and loyalties that made up the backbone of the court, a world you observed with careful, curious eyes from the sidelines.
As his daughter, you were afforded a certain standing -- a place close enough to power to be seen, but far enough that you could move quietly, observing the world around you with a perspective few others shared. It was a unique position, one that allowed you to see both the glittering facade of court life and the complex machinery that lay beneath.
It was there, within the imposing stone walls of the castle, that you first met Jacaerys Velaryon. The memory of that initial encounter was etched clearly in your mind, a moment that would prove to be more significant than you could have possibly imagined at the time.
The prince had been little more than a boy when you first encountered him, his face still soft with the roundness of youth. At one and ten, he was caught in that peculiar stage between childhood and adolescence, his body growing faster than his confidence could keep up. And yet, even then, there was something about Jacaerys that set him apart from the other children of the court.
It wasn't his lineage, impressive though it was. Nor was it the way the adults seemed to watch him with a mixture of hope and expectation, as if already envisioning the man he would become. No, what struck you most about Jacaerys was the intensity in his dark eyes, a depth of feeling and thought that seemed at odds with his youthful appearance. Those eyes, you would come to learn, could convey volumes without a single word being spoken.
Your first meeting had been unremarkable by most standards -- a chance encounter in one of the castle's many winding corridors. You had been hurrying back to your chambers, arms laden with books from the library, when you quite literally ran into the young prince. The collision sent your carefully balanced stack of tomes tumbling to the floor, the sound of their impact echoing off the stone walls.
"I'm so sorry!" Jacaerys had exclaimed, immediately dropping to his knees to help gather the scattered books. "I wasn't watching where I was going."
You had been prepared to be annoyed, perhaps even a little indignant at the interruption. But as you knelt beside him, reaching for a particularly ornate volume on herbal remedies, you caught sight of his face. The genuine concern in his expression, coupled with the slight flush of embarrassment coloring his cheeks, immediately softened your mood.
"It's alright," you had assured him, offering a small smile. "No harm done."
Jacaerys had returned your smile then, a tentative quirk of his lips that seemed to light up his entire face. As he handed you the last of the fallen books, your fingers had brushed against his, and for the briefest of moments, you felt a strange tingling sensation, as if a spark had passed between you.
"You like to read?" he had asked, eyeing the impressive stack of books with curiosity.
You nodded, suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious about your literary choices. "I do. These are mostly about herbs and their medicinal properties. My father says it's important to understand the healing arts."
Jacaerys' eyes had widened with interest. "That sounds fascinating. I've been trying to learn more about dragon lore myself, but the maester says I need to focus on my history lessons first."
The conversation flowed easily from there, both of you discovering a shared love of learning and a curiosity about the world around you. By the time you parted ways, a seed of friendship had been planted, one that would grow and flourish in the years to come.
The whispers about you and Jacaerys had started early, though at first, you paid them little mind. They were nothing more than the idle gossip of the court, after all -- soft-spoken observations about how often you and the young prince seemed to find yourselves in each other's company.
The women of the court, always eager for a new story to dissect and discuss, had their theories. Some said it was nothing more than the innocent friendship of children, a natural camaraderie born of proximity and shared interests. Others, however, hinted at something deeper, more magical. They spoke in hushed tones of the way Jacaerys' dragon, Vermax, seemed unusually interested in you, even from a young age.
"Have you noticed," they would whisper behind ornate fans and goblets of wine, "how the prince's dragon watches her? It's not natural, the way those golden eyes follow her every move."
"Perhaps," another would reply, voice lowered conspiratorially, "there's truth to the old tales after all. Dragons and soulmates, imagine that!"
But you had never paid the rumors much mind. After all, they were just stories, weren't they? Fanciful tales spun by bored courtiers looking for entertainment. You and Jacaerys were friends, nothing more. The notion that there could be anything magical or predestined about your relationship seemed laughable.
And yet, as the years passed, you couldn't help but notice the way Vermax's gaze seemed to linger on you, those intelligent eyes watching with an intensity that was both unnerving and oddly comforting. There were times when you could have sworn the dragon understood more than he let on, as if he were privy to some great secret that eluded both you and Jacaerys.
You and Jacaerys had grown up together in the court, your paths crossing often in the gardens or the corridors of Dragonstone. He had always been kind to you, though shy in his attentions. There was a gentleness to Jacaerys that set him apart from many of the other young nobles, a thoughtfulness that manifested in small, considerate gestures.
You, in turn, had found a quiet comfort in his presence. There was a simplicity to your relationship in those early days, a kind of unspoken understanding that neither of you felt the need to question. You could sit together in comfortable silence for hours, each absorbed in your own pursuits, or engage in spirited debates about everything from the properties of various herbs to the intricacies of dragon anatomy.
But as the years passed, that simplicity began to shift, evolving into something more complex, more charged with potential. The easy camaraderie of childhood gave way to a deeper connection, one tinged with an awareness that neither of you quite knew how to navigate.
Your childhood with Jacaerys had been marked by small, innocent moments that, in retrospect, held far more significance than you had realized at the time. Days spent in the castle gardens became treasured memories, each one a building block in the foundation of your relationship.
You had always been drawn to the quiet magic of the natural world, finding solace and purpose among the neat rows of herbs and flowers. It was there, surrounded by the heady scent of lavender and rosemary, that you felt most at peace. And it was there that you often found yourself in Jacaerys' company, sharing your knowledge and passion with the curious prince.
One particular memory stood out vividly in your mind -- a warm summer afternoon when you were both on the cusp of adolescence. You had been gathering herbs with a care that belied your age, your fingers moving deftly among the fragrant leaves and stems. Jacaerys had watched you work, his dark eyes bright with curiosity.
"Here," you had said, offering him a carefully arranged bundle of lavender and rosemary. "For you."
Jacaerys had accepted your gift with a puzzled smile, turning the herbs over in his hands as if trying to decipher some hidden meaning. "I don't understand," he had said, his voice tinged with a mixture of amusement and genuine confusion. "Why do you always give me these?"
You had shrugged, your hands covered in the rich scent of the earth. "They're for protection," you explained, recalling the lessons your mother had taught you long ago. "My mother used to say that rosemary wards off evil. And lavender helps with sleep and calming the mind."
Jacaerys had laughed then, though not unkindly. His eyes had sparkled with mirth as he asked, "And you think I need more courage?"
"It couldn't hurt," you had replied with a grin, pleased to see the way his face lit up with amusement. "Besides, everyone could use a little extra protection, even princes."
There had been something about that moment -- something in the way his laughter had faded into a quiet, thoughtful smile -- that stayed with you long after. Even then, you had sensed the way his feelings for you were beginning to shift, though neither of you were old enough to truly understand what that meant.
What you didn't know then, and wouldn't discover until years later, was that Jacaerys had kept every bundle of herbs you had given him. He had hidden them away in a small, ornate box beneath his bed, a secret treasure trove of memories. Though their scents had long faded, their meaning lingered, a tangible reminder of the bond you shared.
As you both grew older, the innocent exchanges of childhood gave way to something more nuanced, charged with an energy neither of you quite understood. You began to notice the way Jacaerys' eyes lingered on you a little too long, the way he seemed to find excuses to be near you.
There were times when he would reach out, his fingers brushing against yours as he helped you plant a new seedling, and you would feel a spark of electricity pass between you. It was a connection that defied explanation, a current of energy that seemed to flow between you, dragon, and rider.
And always, always, there was Vermax. The prince's dragon had been a constant presence in Jacaerys' life since he was no more than an egg. The bond between them was instantaneous and profound, as it was with all dragonriders. But there had always been something unique about Vermax, a keen intelligence that seemed to go beyond even the considerable intellect of his kind.
From a young age, the dragon had been fiercely protective of Jacaerys, following him with a loyalty that seemed almost human in its depth. But as the years passed, you began to realize that Vermax's interest in you was not entirely normal.
At first, it had seemed like little more than curiosity. Dragons were intelligent creatures, after all, and it wasn't unusual for them to take an interest in the people around their riders. But Vermax's attention had gone beyond that. There were moments when you would feel the weight of his gaze on you, heavy and expectant, as though he were waiting for something.
It was unsettling at times, though never frightening. In fact, there was a strange sense of comfort in the dragon's presence, as though he were watching over you just as much as he was watching over Jacaerys. It was a dynamic that you couldn't quite explain, but one that felt inexplicably right.
As you and Jacaerys entered your early teenage years, the dynamics of your relationship began to shift in subtle but unmistakable ways. The easy camaraderie of childhood gave way to a more complex interplay of emotions, fraught with the uncertainty and excitement of first love.
You found yourself hyper-aware of Jacaerys' presence, your heart quickening whenever he entered a room. The sound of his laughter, once simply pleasant, now sent shivers down your spine. You caught yourself watching him when you thought he wasn't looking, admiring the way he had begun to grow into his lanky frame, the way his jawline had sharpened and his shoulders broadened.
Jacaerys, for his part, seemed equally affected by the change in your relationship. His usual confidence would falter when you were near, his words becoming tangled as he struggled to maintain the easy conversation you had once shared. You noticed the way his eyes would follow you across a room, lingering on the curve of your neck or the sway of your skirts.
The whispers in the halls continued, handmaids and courtiers alike softly mumbling about the prince's obvious crush. You tried to ignore them, and you liked to think Jacaerys did too, but their words planted seeds of possibility in your mind that you couldn't quite shake.
One particularly memorable afternoon, you had been tending to the castle gardens, carefully snipping away at the overgrown tendrils of ivy that threatened to choke out the more delicate plants. You were lost in thought, your mind wandering as your hands worked automatically, when Jacaerys joined you.
You heard him before you saw him, his footsteps crunching softly on the gravel path. "You're going to turn this place into a jungle," he teased, his voice carrying a warmth that made your heart skip a beat.
Looking up, you saw him leaning against a stone pillar, watching you with an amused expression. His hair was tousled, likely from the wind, and you noticed a wooden practice sword at his side. He'd been training with his younger brother Lucerys, you realized, a fact that explained the slight sheen of sweat on his brow and the healthy flush in his cheeks.
You felt a smear of dirt on your own cheek and resisted the urge to wipe it away, suddenly self-conscious under his gaze. Instead, you straightened up, brushing your hands on your apron. "I happen to think that a bit of wildness adds character," you replied, unable to keep a smile from tugging at your lips.
Jacaerys raised an eyebrow, his own smile widening. "Character, or chaos?" he asked, pushing off from the pillar and moving closer.
"Chaos, definitely," you admitted with a laugh. "But it's the good kind of chaos. The kind that reminds us that not everything needs to be perfectly manicured and controlled."
He nodded, his eyes scanning the garden with newfound appreciation. "I suppose I can't argue with that. As long as you promise not to let the roses take over the entire castle."
You hummed in agreement, though you both knew you had no real intention of reining in the roses anytime soon. Their wild beauty was part of what made the garden so special, after all.
Jacaerys moved to kneel by your side, his hands mimicking yours as he began to help with the pruning. You worked in comfortable silence for a few moments, the only sounds the snip of shears and the distant call of birds.
"How was training?" you asked eventually, glancing at him from the corner of your eye.
He shrugged, a wry smile playing on his lips. "Lucerys is getting better. He almost managed to disarm me today."
You couldn't help but chuckle at the mix of pride and mild indignation in his voice. "I'm sure you'll always be able to best him in something," you teased. "If not swordplay, then perhaps in your ability to brood dramatically while staring off into the distance."
Jacaerys let out a bark of laughter, nudging you playfully with his shoulder. "I do not brood," he protested, though his eyes sparkled with amusement.
"Oh, but you do," you insisted, your voice taking on a mock-serious tone. "It's quite impressive, really. Very princely."
He playfully glared at you, moving to mirror your position and watch as you threaded the herbs in your hands. Jacaerys spoke of the latest lessons he'd been struggling with, his brow furrowing slightly as he recounted a particularly challenging session with the castle's maester. 
"Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever truly understand all the intricacies of statecraft," he confessed, his voice lowering as if sharing a secret. "There's so much to remember, so many nuances to consider."
You paused in your pruning, turning to face him fully. The vulnerability in his admission touched something deep within you. It was rare for Jacaerys to express doubt, especially about matters related to his future role. "You will," you assured him, your voice soft but firm. "You have a good heart, Jace. That's more important than memorizing every law and precedent."
His eyes met yours, a mixture of gratitude and something deeper, more intense, swirling in their depths. "You always know what to say," he murmured, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I don't know what I'd do without you."
The air between you seemed to thicken, charged with an energy that made your heart race. You were acutely aware of how close you were sitting, of the way the afternoon sun caught the highlights in Jacaerys' hair, of the slight quickening of his breath. You cleared your throat, hoping to hide your fluster. 
Suddenly, a mischievous glint appeared in Jacaerys' eyes, breaking the tension of the moment. He reached over and plucked a small, vibrant flower from a nearby bush. With exaggerated ceremony, he tucked it behind your ear, his fingers lingering for just a moment longer than necessary.
"There," he said, his voice soft. "Now you look like a true spirit of the garden."
You felt a warmth creep into your cheeks, your heart fluttering at the gentle gesture. "Thank you," you murmured, reaching up to touch the delicate petals. "Though I'm not sure I can compete with the actual flowers."
Jacaerys' gaze softened, his eyes never leaving yours. "I think you outshine them all," he said, his words barely above a whisper.
You found yourself leaning in slightly, drawn by the intensity of his gaze. For a moment, it felt as though the rest of the world had faded away, leaving only the two of you in this secluded corner of the garden.
But before either of you could act on the moment, a distant call broke the spell. One of the castle guards was approaching, likely with a message for the prince.
Jacaerys sighed, reluctantly stepping back. "Duty calls, it seems," he said, a note of regret in his voice. "But... perhaps we could continue this later?"
You nodded, trying to ignore the way your heart was still racing. "I'd like that," you replied, offering him a small smile.
As Jacaerys turned to leave, he cast one last glance over his shoulder, his eyes lingering on the flower in your hair. The moment may have passed, but the promise of more hung in the air between you, sweet and full of possibility.
The days that followed your encounter in the garden seemed to pass in a haze of stolen glances and lingering touches. Every interaction with Jacaerys now carried an undercurrent of anticipation, as if you were both waiting for something to happen, though neither of you quite knew what.
You found yourself seeking out his company more often, your steps unconsciously leading you to the places you knew he frequented. The library, where he would often be found poring over ancient tomes of dragon lore. The training yard, where you would watch from afar as he honed his skills with sword and shield. And always, always, the gardens, where you both seemed to find a sense of peace amidst the chaos of court life.
The day you felt a shift in your heart, Jacaerys had invited you to join him in the open fields near the Dragonpit. The sun was high in the sky, casting a warm, golden light over the landscape. Vermax, ever watchful, was sprawled lazily on the grass, his massive wings folded neatly by his sides.
You approached cautiously, feeling the familiar thrill of excitement at the sight of the dragon. Vermax lifted his head, his golden eyes following your every movement. There was something almost playful in his gaze, as though he were waiting for you to do something entertaining.
“What do you think he’s planning?” Jacaerys asked, coming up beside you.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s plotting some sort of mischief,” you replied, your tone light. “He always seems to have that look in his eyes.”
Jacaerys chuckled, a sound that was quickly drowned out by Vermax’s sudden, exuberant leap. The dragon bounded toward you, his massive frame causing the earth to tremble beneath him. You shrieked with laughter as Vermax’s warm breath ruffled your hair, and he nudged you playfully with his snout.
“Careful,” Jacaerys warned with a grin. “He might decide you’re his new favorite toy.”
You ducked as Vermax playfully tried to grab your skirts with his claws, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “I think he’s already made up his mind,” you said, trying to catch your breath between giggles.
Jacaerys joined in the laughter, his face flushed with amusement. “Well, if he’s decided you’re his favorite, then I suppose I’ll have to share you.”
You swore your heart almost jumped out of your chest, you noticed Vermax’s huff at the prince’s comment.
At first, it was just a matter of curiosity. Dragons, as intelligent and formidable as they were, often took an interest in those around their riders. Vermax’s gaze would follow you with a keen, almost feline curiosity, his golden eyes tracking your every movement with a level of intensity that was both unnerving and oddly comforting.
You had grown accustomed to his presence. He would appear near the Dragonpit, his massive form casting a shadow over the land. His keen eyes seemed to follow you, watching with an intensity that suggested he was waiting for something. At times, he would perform small acts of assistance – igniting a pile of leaves with a controlled burst of flame or helping clear debris with a gentle sweep of his tail.
The dragon would often follow you, hovering just out of sight, his golden eyes always watching. It was during these moments that you began to realize the depth of Vermax’s fascination. He was not merely curious; he was attentive, almost protective. 
Jacaerys began to notice Vermax’s behavior as well. “He’s been following you a lot lately,” he remarked one day, his voice tinged with a mix of curiosity and concern.
You shrugged, brushing a speck of dirt from your dress. “He seems to enjoy my company. I don’t mind.”
Jacaerys frowned slightly, his brow furrowed. “It’s not just that. He seems… different around you. I’ve never seen him act this way with anyone else.”
You met his gaze, searching for an explanation you didn’t have. “He’s always been attentive. Maybe he just likes being near me.”
With each passing day, Vermax’s playful spirit drew you in further, his antics becoming a source of joy and wonder. You found yourself captivated not just by his impressive size and strength, but by the way he seemed to understand you in a way few others did. The warmth of his golden eyes held a depth that hinted at a connection you couldn’t quite grasp, igniting a blend of curiosity and exhilaration in your heart.
The salty breeze whipped through your hair as you stood atop the cliffs of Dragonstone, your eyes fixed on the horizon where sea met sky. The pungent scent of herbs clung to your fingers, a reminder of the morning spent in your personal garden. You were already making a name for yourself among the castle's inhabitants as a skilled herbalist, following in your father's footsteps but carving your own path in the world of science and medicine.
You breathed in deeply, savoring the crisp air that always seemed to invigorate your senses. It was in these quiet moments, away from the bustle of the castle, that you felt most alive. But as always, you weren't truly alone.
A low rumble from behind made you smile. You didn't need to turn to know that Vermax had followed you out here. Again.
"I know you're there," you said, your voice carried away by the wind. "You're not as stealthy as you think, you overgrown lizard."
Another rumble, this time sounding almost indignant, and you couldn't help but laugh. You finally turned to face the magnificent creature that had become your unlikely shadow over the past few years.
Vermax's scales shimmered in the sunlight, a mesmerizing dance of bronze and gold. His intelligent eyes watched you with what you could only describe as curiosity. It was a look you'd grown accustomed to, ever since the day he'd first started following you around the castle grounds.
"What do you think?" you asked, gesturing to the basket of freshly picked herbs at your feet. "Think we've got enough wormwood for that new tonic I'm working on?"
Vermax tilted his head, nostrils flaring as he sniffed at the basket. You chuckled, shaking your head at the absurdity of consulting a dragon on herbal matters. And yet, there was something comforting about his presence, a constancy in the ever-shifting world of Westerosi politics that surrounded you.
A sudden gust of wind threatened to topple your basket, and you quickly reached down to steady it. Vermax, in a surprising display of gentleness, used his wing to shield you and your precious cargo from the blast.
"Thank you," you murmured, patting his scales appreciatively. "Though I'm sure Prince Jacaerys would prefer you were with him instead of playing nursemaid to me and my plants."
At the mention of his rider's name, Vermax's head swiveled towards the castle. You followed his gaze, your eyes landing on a familiar figure making his way along the winding path towards you.
You felt a familiar flutter in your chest, one that you promptly ignored. Jacaerys had been your friend for years, ever since his family had sought refuge on Dragonstone. You'd grown up together, sharing lessons and adventures. But he was a prince, and you... well, you were just you.
"I thought I'd find you two up here," Jacaerys called out as he drew nearer. "You know, most people would be terrified to find a dragon following them around."
You shrugged, a smirk playing at the corners of your mouth. "Vermax is a perfect gentleman. Aren't you, you big scaly brute?"
Vermax preened at your words, puffing out his chest and eliciting a laugh from both you and Jacaerys.
"I think he likes you more than me sometimes," Jacaerys said, reaching out to scratch under Vermax's chin. The dragon leaned into his touch, eyes half-closing in contentment.
"Nonsense," you replied, busying yourself with your basket of herbs to avoid meeting Jacaerys’ eyes. "He's your dragon. I'm just... a distraction, I suppose."
Jacaerys was quiet for a moment, and when you finally looked up, you found him watching you with an intensity that made your cheeks warm.
"You're not a distraction," he said softly. "You're..." He trailed off, seeming to struggle for words.
An awkward silence fell between you, filled only by the sound of the waves crashing against the cliffs below and Vermax's steady breathing. You cleared your throat, desperate to dispel the sudden tension.
"I've been working on a new tonic," you said brightly, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically. "For headaches. I thought it might help your mother, with all the stress she's under."
Jacaerys’ face lit up, his earlier hesitation forgotten. "She'll be so grateful."
There was that flutter again, stronger this time. You pushed it down, reminding yourself of the realities of your positions. Jacaerys was kind, had always been kind to you. But kindness wasn’t love, and you knew better than to dwell on such thoughts. You were content with the friendship you shared – its warmth was enough.
You crouched down, reaching into your basket to inspect the herbs, trying to focus on the familiar rhythm of your work. The scent of rosemary and wormwood filled the air, grounding you, but you were still keenly aware of Jacaerys standing just a little too close.
"Your garden’s thriving," He remarked, crouching beside you. He wasn’t one for keeping his distance, never had been. It was one of the reasons why you treasured your time together – there were no walls between you. No formalities, just the easy companionship of two souls who had grown side by side.
You smiled, plucking a leaf from a stalk of lemon balm and holding it out to him. “Smell that. Calming, isn’t it? Perfect for stress relief.”
Jacaerys leaned in, the closeness sending an unexpected warmth through you. His nose wrinkled as he inhaled, and you couldn’t help but laugh at his expression.
"Calming? It smells like... old socks."
You chuckled, shaking your head. “Only because you don’t know what to look for. Trust me, in the right hands, it works wonders.”
He shot you a sideways glance, a teasing smile tugging at his lips. "In your hands, I’m sure it does."
The words hung between you, and though they were casual, they carried a weight you couldn’t quite ignore. You glanced up at him, finding his gaze once more. 
You could have let it linger, but instead, you cleared your throat, standing abruptly. "I should head back to the chambers and start working on this tonic. It won’t make itself,"
You started to gather your herbs, your movements quick and purposeful. You tried to shake off the tension that still hung in the air, but Jacaerys’ presence was hard to ignore.
“Wait,” Jacaerys said, stepping closer. “I’d love to help with the tonic, if you’d have me.”
You hesitated, looking up at him with surprise. You raised an eyebrow, feigning contemplation. “Are you sure you want to trade the view of the cliffs for a kitchen filled with herbs and potions?”
He grinned, a playful sparkle in his eyes. “I’d trade anything to spend more time with you.”
The flutter in your chest intensified, but you pushed it aside. “Alright, then. I’ll need an extra pair of hands. But be warned, it might get a bit messy.”
Jacaerys laughed, a sound that mingled effortlessly with the crash of waves below. “Messy sounds like fun. Lead the way.”
When you reached your chambers, you paused by the door, holding out a sprig of lavender. “Here,” you said, your voice slightly hesitant. “Take this for your chambers. It’ll help with relaxation, especially after all the stress.”
Jacaerys accepted the sprig with a genuine smile, his eyes crinkling at the edges. “I’ll make sure to keep it close.”
Without a second thought, he tucked the lavender behind his ear, where it nestled among his dark hair. He offered you a cheeky smile, his gaze met yours, and there was a gentle, playful light in his eyes, as if he had just shared a secret with you and the world around you had receded, leaving only the two of you in its warm embrace.
You found yourself momentarily lost in the way the lavender added a touch of whimsy to his otherwise princely appearance. It was a small, almost insignificant gesture, but it transformed him into something unexpectedly beautiful, a blend of the regal and the endearing.
You couldn’t help but smile, admiring how the lavender seemed to accentuate his features. “You look quite charming,” you remarked, unable to resist the compliment.
Jacaerys blushed slightly, a hint of pink coloring his cheeks. "You think so?" Jacaerys asked, his voice tinged with mock seriousness as he adjusted the lavender, his smile widening.
"Absolutely," you replied, your own smile growing as you observed the slight flush that colored his cheeks.
“I suppose I’ll have to make sure to wear it often then."
And he did, each time you saw Jacaerys, there was the lavender – a constant reminder of that afternoon. It became a part of him, woven into the very fabric of his routine, and its presence was a silent testament to something unspoken.
You noticed it the first time he arrived at your herbarium, the soft purple hue of lavender peeking from his pocket. It seemed to bring a new kind of lightness to his demeanor, as if the charm of the flower was somehow intertwined with the growing affection you sensed in his gaze. After he saw your faint blush on your face, and the small smile you tried to hide when you noticed it, he’d started to wear it every day.
Rhaenyra’s invitation to join the court had been a momentous occasion for Jacaerys. At eighteen, he was eager to embrace the responsibilities and privileges of a more mature role within the castle, seeing it as a step towards adulthood. 
The dynamic between you and Jacaerys shifted, though the change was subtle and gradual. There was a newfound awareness in the way you interacted, a heightened sense of connection that simmered just beneath the surface of your everyday conversations.
You would find yourselves lingering a beat too long in each other's company, fingers brushing as you passed one another in the castle corridors. Stolen glances across crowded rooms held a weight that had been absent before, and the easy laughter that had once flowed so freely between you now carried an undercurrent of nervous energy.
Yet, through it all, your friendship remained steadfast. You continued to seek each other out, drawn together by an unspoken bond that defied the conventions of court life. Whether it was trading stories in the gardens or simply enjoying the comfortable silence of each other's presence, there was a sense of security and belonging that you found in Jacaerys' company.
It was during one of these chance encounters that you truly began to realize how much things had changed between you. You had been walking through a secluded part of the castle grounds, lost in thought, when you quite literally bumped into Jacaerys as he rounded a corner.
"Oh!" you exclaimed, stumbling slightly. Jacaerys' hands shot out to steady you, gripping your arms gently but firmly.
"Are you alright?" he asked, concern evident in his voice. But as you looked up to meet his gaze, you saw something else there too – a warmth, an intensity that made your breath catch in your throat.
You nodded, suddenly very aware of how close you were standing, of the warmth of his hands on your arms. "I'm fine," you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you."
Jacaerys didn't immediately let go, his thumbs tracing small, unconscious circles on your skin. The touch sent shivers down your spine, and you found yourself leaning in ever so slightly, drawn by some invisible force.
For a moment, you both stood there, frozen in time. The air around you seemed to hum with possibility, with all the words left unsaid between you. Jacaerys' gaze dropped to your lips for the briefest of seconds before snapping back up to your eyes, a faint blush coloring his cheeks.
"I..." he began, his voice husky. But whatever he had been about to say was cut off by the sound of approaching footsteps and voices.
You both stepped apart quickly, the spell broken. A group of courtiers rounded the corner, their chatter filling the once-quiet space. Jacaerys ran a hand through his hair, looking flustered.
"I should go," he said, his voice tinged with regret. "I have a meeting with my mother and the council."
You nodded, trying to hide your disappointment. "Of course. I'll see you later?"
Jacaerys smiled, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. "Count on it," he replied, his voice warm with promise.
As he walked away, you couldn't help but feel that something fundamental had shifted between you. The easy friendship of your childhood was evolving into something deeper, more complex. And while part of you yearned to explore these new feelings, another part hesitated, aware of the complications that could arise.
After all, Jacaerys was a prince, heir to the Iron Throne. And you, despite your father's position at court, were still just a noble's daughter. The gap between your stations, which had seemed inconsequential in childhood, now loomed large and imposing.
But as you watched Jacaerys disappear around a corner, his tall figure cutting a striking silhouette against the stone walls of the castle, you couldn't quite bring yourself to care about the potential obstacles. There was something growing between you, something that felt important, even vital.
And unbeknownst to both of you, high above in the Dragonpit, Vermax stirred in his sleep, his golden eyes fluttering open for a moment as if sensing the shift in the air. The dragon let out a low, rumbling purr before settling back down, a sound that seemed to echo with satisfaction and anticipation.
As promised, you sought him out, as you walked the castle grounds, you stumbled upon Jacaerys in a quiet alcove, poring over a stack of parchments. His brow was furrowed in concentration, a sight that was both endearing and familiar.
"Hiding away from the world, I see," you teased, your voice light and playful as you approached.
Jacaerys looked up, a warm smile spreading across his lips. "Hardly. I'm simply attempting to make sense of these endless reports. Surely you know how tedious court life can be."
You nodded, settling down beside him on the stone bench. "I do, indeed. But I must say, you seem to be handling the burden with more grace than I ever could."
Jacaerys chuckled, the sound low and rich. "Practice, I suppose. Though I have to admit, it's much easier to bear when you're around to distract me."
The words hung in the air, charged with a subtle flirtation that sent a flutter through your chest. You met his gaze, a playful smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.
"Is that so? Well, in that case, I'll be sure to interrupt your work more often."
Jacaerys leaned in, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Please do. I find I'm in dire need of a distraction."
The air between you crackled with an undeniable tension, and for a moment, you were both lost in the intensity of the moment. It was as if the world had narrowed down to just the two of you, your hearts beating in sync as you lingered in each other's space.
Eventually, Jacaerys cleared his throat, a faint blush coloring his cheeks as he turned his attention back to the parchments. "In all seriousness, I could use a break. Would you care to join me for a walk?"
You nodded, the smile on your face widening. "I thought you'd never ask."
As you fell into step beside him, your arms brushing with each stride, you couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over you. The tension may have been palpable, but there was also an underlying comfort in the familiarity of your bond. It was as if you had known each other forever, despite the ever-changing nature of the world around you.
The conversation flowed easily, punctuated by bouts of laughter and playful banter. Jacaerys spoke of his latest lessons and the frustrations of court politics, while you shared tales of your explorations in the city, weaving vivid descriptions that had him listening with rapt attention.
At one point, as you recounted a particularly harrowing encounter with a flock of noisy geese, Jacaerys reached out and gently brushed a stray strand of hair from your face, his fingertips lingering on your skin. The simple gesture sent a shiver down your spine, and you found yourself lost in the warmth of his gaze.
"You know," he murmured, his voice soft and low, "I always enjoy our conversations, but I find myself looking forward to them more and more these days."
You felt your heart flutter, and you couldn't help but lean a little closer, drawn to the intensity of his presence. "As do I, Jacaerys. As do I."
"I thought I'd enjoy court a bit more," Jacaerys confessed, his brow furrowed in a slight frown. "Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful for the opportunity, but it can be… overwhelming at times.”
You glanced at him, sensing the weight of his words. “It’s a lot to handle, isn’t it?” Reaching for his arm, you linked yours together. “It’s one thing to hear about it, and quite another to live it every day.”
Jacaerys sighed, his gaze wandering over the castle grounds, where the late afternoon sun cast a golden hue on the landscape. “I thought I’d be more prepared, but it seems like the more I try to understand, the less I actually know.”
“You spend every day locked in that dusty library,” you made a face, “Perhaps a change of scenery is exactly what you need.” 
Jacaerys glanced at you, his lips curving into a small, appreciative smile. 
“Or a good distraction,” you added with a playful grin.
He moved your linked arms to elbow your side, his eyes softening with gratitude. “I suppose you’ve been quite the distraction for me. And I’m not sure how I’d have managed without it.”
You felt a blush creeping up your cheeks at his words. 
The warmth of Jacaerys' gaze, paired with his words, left you momentarily breathless. There was a sincerity in his voice, a quiet vulnerability that you hadn’t heard from him before. For a brief second, the world around you seemed to blur, the rustling trees and distant clamor of the castle fading into the background. All that remained was the two of you, arm in arm, walking through a world that felt uniquely yours.
“You would’ve managed just fine,” you said, nudging him lightly, trying to keep the mood light despite the flutter in your chest. “But I’m glad to be your distraction anyway.”
Jacaerys' lips twitched into a smile, but his eyes remained focused on you, studying your face as if committing every feature to memory. "Still, I’ve come to appreciate it more than you know."
You turned your head slightly, the afternoon breeze stirring your hair as you walked side by side. There was a new depth to the conversation, an unspoken understanding that your relationship had grown into something beyond friendship. The stolen glances, the accidental brushes of skin, the way your words seemed to hold more meaning than before—it all pointed to a shift that neither of you could ignore any longer.
And yet, you found comfort in how natural it felt. Jacaerys had always been your closest friend, the person you could talk to about anything. That foundation hadn’t changed. If anything, it had only deepened, strengthened by the shared moments and quiet, growing affection between you.
As you passed beneath the shade of an ancient oak tree, Jacaerys slowed his steps, tugging gently on your arm. 
“Wait,” he said softly, glancing up at the sprawling branches that created a cocoon of privacy. The dappled sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting warm golden patterns across his face.
He turned toward you fully, and for the first time, you felt a quiet intensity in the way he looked at you. There was a question in his gaze, though he hadn’t yet voiced it aloud. His fingers, still linked with yours, tightened slightly, and you realized how close you stood to him now, barely an arm’s length apart.
The wind stirred again, a soft breeze that seemed to carry with it the weight of the moment. You felt your heart thudding in your chest, as if echoing his.
Finally, he spoke, his voice low and uncertain, like he was tiptoeing around something fragile. 
“Would it be terribly selfish of me to ask for more of your time? Away from… all of this?” He gestured loosely toward the distant castle with his free hand, the spires glinting in the late afternoon sun.
You blinked, taken slightly aback by the request, though your chest warmed at the sincerity in his tone. He wasn’t asking out of politeness, nor was this a casual suggestion. This was something deeper – an unspoken desire for space, for more moments like this one, away from the noise and demands of court. Just you and him.
“I–” you started, unsure how to respond at first. A soft breeze rustled the leaves above, and you realized you didn’t need to think too hard about it. “No,” you said quietly, your smile gentle. “It’s not selfish at all.”
Jacaerys' expression softened in visible relief, his shoulders relaxing slightly. He let out a small breath, one he hadn’t realized he was holding, and his eyes brightened as they met yours. 
"I was hoping you'd say that," he said, the familiar warmth returning to his voice, though the undercurrent of something more remained.
His hand, still linked with yours, tightened ever so slightly, as though he feared you might pull away. But you didn’t. Instead, you found yourself leaning into the connection, the warmth of his touch grounding you amidst the fluttering of your heart. 
The world seemed to slow around you, the gentle breeze playing with the strands of your hair, the golden sunlight casting a soft glow across Jacaerys' face. His eyes, those deep, dark pools you had known since childhood, held something new now – an intensity, a vulnerability that made your breath catch.
For a moment, neither of you spoke. The leaves above rustled softly, and the distant sounds of the castle faded, leaving only the steady rhythm of your breathing and the quiet tension that hung between you. You could feel the weight of the moment, the way everything seemed to hinge on what might happen next.
Jacaerys stepped closer, just a fraction, but it was enough for you to feel the warmth radiating from him. His free hand lifted hesitantly, as though he wasn’t quite sure if he should, and then he gently brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. The touch was feather-light, but it sent a shiver down your spine.
“I think,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper now, “that I’ve always wanted more time with you. I just… I didn’t know how to ask.”
His words, so simple yet so full of meaning, sent your mind reeling. You had always been close, always shared moments of laughter and quiet companionship, but this—this was something different. It was as if the lines you had both drawn so carefully over the years were blurring, fading into something neither of you could fully understand, but both were willing to explore.
You swallowed, your throat suddenly dry, and met his gaze. “Jacaerys,” The words caught in your throat, unsure of how to express the swirl of emotions inside you. But the look in his eyes told you that he understood, that he didn’t need you to say anything just yet.
His hand lingered near your face, his fingers lightly grazing your cheek. For a moment, it seemed like the whole world held its breath, waiting to see what would happen next.
But before you could speak again, before either of you could close the distance between you, a voice called out from the castle. A courtier, no doubt, summoning Jacaerys back to his duties.
The moment shattered like glass, the spell broken by the harsh reality of the world beyond the oak’s sheltering branches. Jacaerys pulled back, his expression one of reluctant resignation, though his fingers lingered on yours for just a heartbeat longer before slipping away.
“I…” he began, his voice strained. “I have to go.”
You nodded, the warmth of his touch still lingering on your skin. “I know.”
But as he turned to leave, he hesitated, casting one last look over his shoulder. His gaze met yours, and in that moment, it felt like a promise, unspoken yet understood. There would be more time, more moments like this – when the world didn’t press in so tightly, when you could simply be Jacaerys and yourself, without the weight of court life bearing down on you.
And with that, he was gone, his figure disappearing down the path toward the castle, leaving you standing alone beneath the oak, the fluttering leaves above a soft reminder of what had almost been.
As the days turned into weeks, you found yourself increasingly aware of Jacaerys' presence in your life. 
You began to notice the little things, the small gestures that spoke volumes about Jacaerys' growing affection. The way he would seek you out in crowded rooms, his eyes lighting up when they found yours. The gentle brush of his hand against yours as you walked side by side through the castle corridors. The way he listened intently when you spoke, hanging on your every word as if they were precious gems.
One particular evening, you found yourself in the castle library, surrounded by towering shelves of ancient tomes. You had been searching for a specific book on herbal remedies, standing on tiptoe to reach a high shelf, when you felt a presence behind you.
"Allow me," Jacaerys' voice came softly, his breath warm against your ear as he reached past you to pluck the book from its perch.
You turned, finding yourself face to face with the prince, barely a breath of space between you. "Thank you," you murmured, your voice catching slightly as you met his gaze.
Jacaerys’ fingers lingered on the spine of the book, his proximity causing your pulse to quicken. You could smell the faint scent of leather and parchment mingling with something distinctly him, a subtle warmth that made the space between you feel smaller, more intimate. The soft light from the library’s candles flickered, casting shadows on his face and highlighting the sharp lines of his jaw that had grown more defined with age.
"You're welcome," he murmured, his voice low and filled with an unfamiliar weight. It was his nameday today, turning nine and ten, and though the castle had been buzzing with celebration all day, it was this quiet moment in the library that felt the most significant. The festivities seemed far away, drowned out by the quiet hum of his presence beside you.
You felt a nervous flutter in your chest, one you couldn’t quite control, as you tried to speak, to break the silence that hung between you like a fragile thread. “I didn’t expect you here,” you said softly, your fingers brushing the edge of the book he’d handed you. “Shouldn’t you be at your nameday feast?”
Jacaerys smiled, a small, almost sheepish curve of his lips that sent warmth through you. “I should be,” he admitted, his eyes holding yours. “But I needed some air... and maybe a bit of quiet. It’s overwhelming sometimes.”
You nodded, understanding immediately. The weight of expectation that came with his name, his birthright, was always heavy. "I imagine it must be. All those people, eyes on you."
He let out a soft sigh, his hand brushing against yours as he shifted the book to you more securely. “Exactly. And... well, I was hoping to find you.”
Your heart skipped at his words, and you blinked up at him, momentarily lost for a reply. 
“I’m glad you did,” you managed to say, your voice quieter than you’d intended.
Jacaerys stepped just a fraction closer, the space between you shrinking as he tilted his head slightly, his expression softening. His lips quirked into a playful smile, the kind that had always made your heart stumble in your chest. 
"You wouldn’t believe the amount of gifts I’ve been forced to graciously accept today," he said, his voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper. “Half the court is vying for a chance to be in my good graces, hoping one of their children might become my future Hand when I take the throne.”
He chuckled softly, shaking his head as if the thought were absurd, though you knew the pressures that came with his title weighed on him more than he liked to admit. There was something in his eyes – an unspoken weariness, a hint of the heavy responsibility he bore, even as he tried to make light of it.
You couldn’t help but smile, the image of Jacaerys surrounded by lavish gifts from eager courtiers painting a rather amusing picture in your mind. "Let me guess, dozens of finely crafted swords, books you’ll never read, and enough embroidered tunics to last you a lifetime?"
“More than I know what to do with,” he said with a dramatic sigh, leaning a little closer, the warmth of his presence wrapping around you. “One lord even gifted me a statue of a dragon, carved from some rare stone. It weighs more than Vermax himself, I swear.”
You laughed softly, the sound mingling with the quiet of the library, and for a moment, it felt like the world had melted away, leaving just the two of you in this small, secluded space. “What are you going to do with all of it?”
“I’m thinking of donating it to the maesters,” he said, his voice playful but with an undertone of sincerity. “They’re always looking for more clutter, aren’t they?”
His humor was infectious, and you found yourself grinning, shaking your head at him. “They’d probably find a way to use it in some lesson about the history of Valyria.”
Jacaerys chuckled, his eyes sparkling with a mix of amusement and something softer, deeper. The air between you grew thick again, the earlier tension returning, but this time, it felt different. Less uncertain, more sure. 
He lifted his hand, slowly, tentatively, as though he were testing the boundaries of whatever was blossoming between you. His fingers brushed lightly against your wrist, tracing the skin there in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. The gentle touch was intimate, delicate, as though he were savoring the moment, reluctant to let it end.
"You know," he began, his voice barely above a whisper now, "all those presents – they don’t mean anything. Not really." His gaze locked with yours, the intensity in his eyes making your breath catch. "I only wanted one thing today."
Your heart raced, your pulse quickening under his touch, and you found yourself leaning in ever so slightly, drawn to him in a way that felt both natural and terrifying.
“And what’s that?” you asked softly, your voice barely more
Jacaerys’ eyes never left yours as he spoke, his voice low and soft, a quiet intimacy threading through his words. “You,” he said, the single word hanging in the air between you like a confession, vulnerable and raw.
Your breath hitched, heart pounding so loudly that you were sure he could hear it in the stillness of the library. For a moment, you couldn’t speak, couldn’t think. All you could feel was the weight of his gaze, the warmth of his hand against your wrist, and the undeniable pull that had been building between you for what felt like years.
His fingers tightened ever so slightly on your wrist, a silent plea, his thumb tracing slow circles on your skin. 
“I’ve spent so much time in the court,” he said quietly, his voice low and filled with the weight of his thoughts. “Handling affairs, playing the part of the prince, always doing what’s expected of me. But lately… I’ve missed you.” His words carried an ache, as if the time apart had been a slow, painful realization of what he truly wanted. 
Your heart fluttered at his words, the depth of his confession settling over you like a warm blanket. You felt a tightening in your chest, the emotions you’d been trying to keep at bay now rushing to the surface.
Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you reached into the folds of your dress and pulled out a small, carefully wrapped package. You had agonized over this gift for weeks, wanting it to be perfect.
"I have something for you," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "For your nameday."
Jacaerys' eyes widened slightly, a mix of surprise and curiosity crossing his features. He loosened his grip on your wrist, allowing you to place the gift in his hand.
"You didn't have to–" he began, but you shook your head, silencing him with a gentle smile.
"I wanted to," you assured him. "I suppose you can add this to the mountain of gifts you've received today. Though it might get lost among all those rare stone dragons." you jested.
Jacaerys chuckled softly, but his eyes remained intense as they held yours. "Anything from you could never get lost in a pile," he murmured, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your wrist. "It already stands out from anything any lord could offer."
Your breath caught at his words, the depth of feeling behind them unmistakable. Jacaerys glanced down at the small package in his hand, his fingers running over the careful wrapping.
"Aren't you going to open it?" you asked, suddenly feeling a bit nervous about your choice of gift.
Jacaerys shook his head, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Not yet," he said. "I want to savor this moment a little longer."
Your heart raced as you realized how close you were standing, the warmth of his body radiating towards you in the quiet of the library. Without overthinking, you leaned in and pressed a soft, quick kiss to his cheek.
"Happy nameday, Jace," you whispered, your lips brushing his skin as you spoke.
You pulled back slightly, meeting his gaze once more. His eyes were wide with surprise, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. For a moment, neither of you moved, caught in the charged atmosphere between you.
Then, gathering your courage, you took a small step back. "I should go," you said softly, though every part of you wanted to stay. "You have a feast to return to, after all."
Jacaerys nodded, seemingly still stunned by your gesture. As you turned to leave, you glanced back over your shoulder. Jacaerys stood there, the small package clutched in one hand. The look on his face was one of wonder and longing, as if he had just been given the most precious gift in all the Seven Kingdoms.
He smiled to himself, a mixture of joy and longing filling his chest. As he finally moved to rejoin his nameday feast, he knew that this moment – this gift – would be the one he cherished most from this day forward.
In the days that followed your moment with Jacaerys in the library, you noticed a distinct change in Vermax's behavior. The dragon, always attentive to you before, now seemed utterly determined not to let you out of his sight.
It started the very next morning. As you made your way to the herb gardens, a familiar shadow fell over you. Looking up, you saw Vermax circling overhead, his bronze scales glinting in the early sunlight. You thought nothing of it at first – the dragon often flew over the castle grounds. But as you reached the gardens and began your work, you realized Vermax had landed nearby and was watching you intently.
"Hello there," you called out, amused by his intense gaze. "Come to help with the weeding?"
Vermax huffed, a puff of warm air ruffling your hair. He settled himself more comfortably on the grass, his tail curling around him like a cat. His golden eyes never left you as you went about your tasks.
As the day wore on, Vermax's presence became a constant. When you moved to a different part of the garden, he would follow, sometimes knocking over pots or uprooting plants in his eagerness to stay close. You found yourself having to work around him, like a gardener might work around a particularly large and scaly cat.
"You're being rather clingy today, aren't you?" you muttered, reaching around his massive form to grab a watering can. Vermax merely blinked slowly at you, looking utterly content.
The pattern continued over the next few days. Whenever you left your chambers, Vermax would appear, following you around the castle’s outings with a single-minded determination. He would curl up outside the great hall while you dined, much to the bewilderment of the other courtiers. During your walks in the castle grounds, he would lumber along beside you, occasionally nudging you with his snout as if seeking attention.
One afternoon, as you sat in a quiet corner of the courtyard, attempting to read, Vermax decided your lap looked like the perfect place to rest his head. You found yourself with a lapful of warm, scaly dragon, your book forgotten as you absently stroked the ridges along his snout.
"What's gotten into you?" you wondered aloud, scratching behind one of his horns. Vermax rumbled contentedly, his eyes half-closed in bliss.
It was during one of these moments that Jacaerys found you. His eyebrows shot up in surprise at the sight of his usually aloof dragon behaving like an overgrown housecat.
"Well, this is new," he remarked, a hint of amusement in his voice. "I've been looking for him all morning. Should have known he'd be with you."
You felt a blush creep up your cheeks, remembering your last encounter in the library. "He's been... rather attentive lately," you explained, trying to keep your voice steady.
Jacaerys moved closer, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Attentive? It looks like he's adopted you."
Vermax opened one eye to look at his rider, then promptly closed it again, snuggling closer to you. You couldn't help but laugh.
"I'm not sure what I've done to deserve such devotion," you said, your fingers still absently stroking Vermax's scales.
Jacaerys' expression softened, his gaze moving from Vermax to you. "I think I might have an idea," he said softly, so quietly that you almost missed it.
For a heartbeat, you didn’t dare breathe. You had heard the whispers – the soft murmurings that floated through the halls of the castle, spoken behind fans and shared in hushed tones over goblets of wine. They were the same rumors that had always been dismissed as mere fables: ancient tales about dragons and soulmates, myths that most of the court laughed off as fantastical relics from a bygone era.
You had grown up with the legends, just as any child of Westeros had. It was said that in the ancient days of Old Valyria, dragons could sense the one person destined for their rider, a bond so profound it went beyond even the magical connection between rider and dragon. This connection was rare, deeper than anything known to man, and some believed it tied the fates of the rider, dragon, and soulmate together, forever.
But those were only stories, weren’t they?
The thought made your heart race, even as Vermax nudged your hand, demanding more attention. 
Jacaerys seemed to sense your hesitation. He sat down beside you, his shoulder brushing against yours, the warmth of his presence both reassuring and unnerving. The weight of those whispered legends hung in the air between you, heavy with possibilities neither of you dared voice. You could feel the question in the space between you, but neither of you seemed willing to give it life, to allow the old stories to weave themselves into your reality.
Vermax huffed contentedly, his golden eyes half-lidded as you continued to stroke his scales. The warmth of the dragon’s presence, combined with Jacaerys’ closeness, made the world feel smaller, more intimate. And yet, the thought of those legends, of the connection they hinted at, stirred something deep within you.
But you weren’t ready to confront that – not yet.
Jacaerys cleared his throat softly, breaking the silence with a casual tone, though you could hear the undercurrent of something more in his voice. "Vermax has always had a mind of his own. I suppose it’s not so strange that he’s taken a liking to you." His words were light, but there was a subtle tension in them, as if he, too, was choosing his words carefully.
You let out a quiet laugh, grateful for the shift in conversation. "He’s a bit of a menace, truth be told," you teased, brushing some dirt from your hands. "I don’t think I’ve ever had a dragon try to uproot my herb garden before."
Jacaerys grinned, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he glanced at Vermax. "He has a habit of getting in the way. I’m surprised you’ve managed to work around him."
You shrugged, smiling despite yourself. "I’ve learned to make do. Besides, it’s not every day you get a dragon for company. He’s surprisingly good at weeding, though I’m not sure he knows that’s what he’s doing."
Jacaerys chuckled, and the sound eased the tension in your chest. For a few moments, the weight of the unspoken words between you lightened, and you both fell into an easy rhythm, the kind that had defined your friendship over the years.
"I suppose I should count myself lucky," you continued, your voice teasing. "Not many people can say they have a dragon who’s decided to follow them around like a lost pup."
Jacaerys leaned back on his hands, gazing at Vermax with a fond smile. "I think you’ve charmed him," he said, his tone playful but gentle. "Though, to be fair, you tend to have that effect on people."
"I think it’s the herbs. Maybe he likes the smell."
Jacaerys turned his head slightly, his eyes meeting yours with a softness that made your heart skip. Your heart raced as Jacaerys' eyes dropped to your lips, his breathing slowing ever so slightly. 
You watched as Jacaerys’ gaze flicked back to your eyes, the intensity there nearly making you forget how to breathe. For a moment, you thought he might kiss you. His face leaned closer, his lips only a breath away from yours, and the heat of his proximity made your pulse quicken.
Vermax, sensing none of this, shifted lazily beside you, his warm breath ruffling your hair as you absentmindedly stroked his scales. The dragon’s presence had always been comforting, but now, with Jacaerys so close, you felt a different kind of warmth, one that had nothing to do with the huge dragon lying next to you.
Jacaerys cleared his throat again, but this time, the sound was more hesitant, as if he were about to wade into dangerous waters. He glanced down at his hands before turning back to you, his voice quieter now, almost cautious. 
"Have you ever… thought about marriage?" His tone was casual, but you could hear the tension beneath it, the way he was testing the waters with the question.
Your heart skipped a beat, and you blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in conversation. You hadn’t expected him to ask something like that – not after years of avoiding the topic, of keeping your interactions light and playful. The mention of marriage, especially from Jacaerys, felt like stepping too close to the edge of something vast and unknown.
"Marriage?" you repeated softly, buying yourself time as your mind raced. 
You glanced at him, searching his face for clues, for some indication of what he was really asking. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes held a strange intensity that made your stomach twist with nerves.
"Yes," he said, his voice steady, though you could sense the underlying current of uncertainty. "I mean… you must know it’s a topic that comes up often in court. Especially for someone like you. I imagine there have been offers."
You hesitated, unsure of how to answer. It wasn’t that the subject hadn’t crossed your mind – of course it had. You were of an age where most noblewomen were already spoken for, and though your father had never pressured you, there had been whispers, suggestions from the court that a match should be made soon. But you had always brushed those conversations aside, content with your life, with the simple joys of herbcraft and your time with Jacaerys.
"Offers, yes," you admitted after a moment, your voice quieter now. "But I’ve never taken any of them seriously."
Jacaerys tilted his head slightly, his eyes searching yours as if trying to read your thoughts. "Why not?"
You shrugged, trying to maintain some semblance of nonchalance, though your heart was racing in your chest. "I suppose I’ve never felt… connected to them in that way." The words felt heavier than you intended, and you quickly glanced away, focusing on Vermax instead of the prince beside you.
For a long moment, Jacaerys said nothing. You could feel the weight of his gaze on you, and though you were tempted to fill the silence, something held you back, as if speaking too soon might unravel whatever fragile thread was holding the moment together.
"I see," Jacaerys finally said, his voice soft but laced with something unspoken. 
His eyes searched yours, as though he were trying to decipher the meaning behind your words – your hesitation, the quiet way you had admitted to have been looking for love. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, and though Vermax lay contentedly beside you, his warmth comforting, it did nothing to quell the flutter of nerves building inside you.
"What about you?" you asked, your voice softer now, almost hesitant. "I imagine you've had many offers as well."
Jacaerys' expression shifted, the playful edge that had always been a hallmark of your friendship disappearing entirely. His face grew serious, his gaze lowering as he seemed to consider your question. For a moment, you thought he wouldn’t answer, that perhaps you had ventured too far into territory neither of you were ready to explore.
But then he sighed, his voice quieter than before, almost reflective. "There have been offers," he admitted, his tone neutral but with an undercurrent of tension. "Plenty of them, actually. It comes with the title. People see a future king and want to secure their place in that future."
His words felt distant, like they belonged to someone else, someone far removed from the boy you had grown up with. You could hear the weight of his responsibilities in his voice, the burden of being a prince, always expected to make decisions not just for himself but for an entire kingdom. 
"And yet," he continued, his eyes lifting to meet yours once more, "none of them ever felt right."
Your breath caught at his words. You hesitated, unsure of how to navigate the delicate tension between you. "Why not?" you asked softly, echoing his earlier question to you.
Jacaerys smiled, though it was a small, almost wistful expression, as if he were contemplating something he wasn’t sure he should say. His hand, which had been resting on the grass beside him, inched closer to yours, the tips of his fingers barely brushing against your own. The touch sent a shiver through you, a subtle but undeniable connection.
"I suppose," he began slowly, his voice thoughtful, "I’ve been waiting for something… more." He paused, glancing away for a brief moment before looking back at you. "Someone I feel connected to. Someone I trust. Someone who sees me, not just the prince."
You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came. The silence stretched on, charged with the unsaid, the emotions neither of you could fully express. The space between you felt smaller, more intimate, as if the world outside this moment had faded into nothing.
Jacaerys shifted slightly, his hand finally closing the distance between you, his fingers curling around yours. The touch was gentle, almost hesitant, as if he were still testing the waters of whatever was growing between you. His thumb brushed lightly over your knuckles, and the simple gesture sent a warmth through you that had nothing to do with the dragon resting beside you.
"Do you think…" he began, his voice barely above a whisper now, "that it’s possible for someone like me to have that? To choose for myself?"
Your breath hitched at his question, and for a moment, you were unsure how to answer. Jacaerys, the future king, bound by duty and responsibility, was asking you something so personal, so vulnerable. The weight of his title, his future, pressed down on both of you, and yet, here in this quiet moment, it felt as though it was just the two of you, free from the expectations of the world.
"I think," you whispered, your heart pounding in your chest, "if anyone deserves to choose, it’s you."
Your words seemed to settle over him, a quiet reassurance that made the tension in his shoulders ease just a fraction. He gave you a small, grateful smile, one that made your chest tighten with something you weren’t ready to name.
Finally, Jacaerys broke the silence, his voice soft and filled with a quiet resolve. "Maybe one day," he said, his thumb still tracing slow circles on your hand, "we’ll both get to choose."
The weight of Jacaerys' words lingered in the air between you, a tangible presence that seemed to weave its way into the very fabric of the moment. You could feel the quiet intensity of his gaze, his thumb still brushing against your hand, a gentle, rhythmic motion that seemed to steady both of you.
His hand remained entwined with yours, and you noticed the way his fingers moved, absently tracing the lines of your palm. There was a tenderness in his touch, a delicate acknowledgment of the closeness that had grown between you.
As if to seal the moment, Jacaerys leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to the palm of your hand. The sensation was warm and electrifying, sending a shiver up your arm. His lips lingered for a heartbeat longer than necessary, and the intimacy of the gesture made your heart race. His fingers played with yours, the touch light and exploratory, a silent communication that spoke volumes more than words ever could.
Jacaerys’ eyes met yours, and in that look, you saw a reflection of your own feelings – a mixture of hope, uncertainty, and an undeniable connection. His hand remained in yours, a comforting presence that felt both familiar and new.
The quiet was filled with the unspoken, the space between you charged with possibilities. The weight of your shared silence felt like a cocoon, wrapping you both in a moment that was yours alone, away from the eyes and expectations of the world outside.
Finally, Jacaerys’ lips curved into a small, genuine smile, and he gave your hand a gentle squeeze. "I should probably go," he said softly, though he made no move to leave. "There's a council meeting I'm meant to attend."
You nodded, understanding the weight of his responsibilities, even as a part of you wished he could stay. "Of course," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "Duty calls."
Jacaerys sighed, his eyes never leaving yours. "It always does," he murmured, a hint of resignation in his tone. But then his expression softened, and he added, "Though I find myself wishing it didn't, at least not when I'm with you."
The admission hung in the air between you, laden with unspoken meaning. You felt a flutter in your chest, a mix of excitement and nervousness at the implications of his words.
Vermax, who had been contentedly dozing beside you, stirred slightly. The dragon lifted his head, his golden eyes flickering between you and Jacaerys as if sensing the shift in mood.
"I think someone's getting jealous," you teased lightly, grateful for the momentary distraction from the intensity of the moment.
Jacaerys chuckled, reaching out to pat Vermax's snout. "He's not the only one who enjoys your company," he said, his voice low and tinged with meaning.
He stood slowly, reluctantly releasing your hand. As he did, his fingers trailed along your palm, a lingering touch that sent shivers down your spine.
"Perhaps," he began, a hint of hesitation in his voice, "we could continue this conversation another time? Away from prying eyes and dragon chaperones?"
You nodded, a smile tugging at your lips. "I'd like that," you replied softly.
Jacaerys' face lit up with a warmth that made your heart swell. He took a step back, his eyes still locked with yours. "Until then," he said, his voice filled with promise.
As he turned to leave, Vermax huffed, a small puff of smoke curling from his nostrils. The dragon's gaze followed his rider, then settled back on you, as if to say he'd be keeping watch.
You sat there for a moment longer, your hand still tingling from Jacaerys' touch, your mind replaying the conversation. The weight of what had transpired, of the words spoken and unspoken, settled over you like a warm blanket.
The days passed in a haze, the absence of Jacaerys more palpable than you had expected. His words, his touch, the warmth of his presence lingered with you, like a song you couldn’t quite shake from your thoughts. Every hour felt drawn out, the stillness of your chambers amplifying the emptiness that came with his absence.
You tried to busy yourself, distracting your mind with small tasks, but nothing seemed to quell the gnawing sensation that something was missing. Jacaerys’ parting words had left a subtle hum beneath your skin, a quiet longing that you couldn’t quite place, or maybe didn’t want to.
By the time night fell, the soft glow of the candlelight casting long shadows against the walls, you found yourself sitting by the window, your thoughts wandering back to him. You hadn’t expected to miss him this much. The bond you shared had grown in such a quiet, natural way, yet now that he was gone, the absence felt stark and undeniable.
The evening stretched on, and you were beginning to resign yourself to the solitude when a soft knock sounded at your door. Your heart leapt before you could even think.
Rising quickly, you crossed the room and pulled the door open, and there he was – Jacaerys, standing in the dim light of the corridor, a smile brighter than the candles behind him. His eyes sparkled, and there was an undeniable energy about him, a joy that radiated from his very being. 
"Jace," you breathed, a wave of relief washing over you. You hadn’t realized just how much you missed him until now, until he was standing here, looking at you with that familiar warmth in his eyes.
He stepped inside before you could say anything more, and the door closed softly behind him. There was an almost giddy excitement in his movements as he crossed the room toward you. 
His eyes were bright, his smile wide and unguarded in a way you'd rarely seen before. There was a lightness to his steps, as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders.
"I've missed you," he said softly, his voice filled with a warmth that made your heart flutter. He reached out, his fingers brushing against your arm in a gentle, almost reverent touch.
You felt a blush creep up your cheeks at his words and the intensity of his gaze. "I've missed you too," you admitted, surprised by how easily the truth slipped out. "You seem... happy."
Jacaerys' smile grew even wider, if that was possible. He took another step closer, closing the distance between you until you could feel the warmth of his breath. 
His fingers, resting against your arm, traced a soft, soothing pattern, the touch sending a shiver down your spine. "I am happy," he said, his voice low, filled with that same lightness. His eyes held yours, and for a brief moment, it felt like there was no one else in the world, just the two of you standing in the quiet intimacy of your chambers.
You felt your breath catch in your throat as Jacaerys took another small step closer, closing the already narrow gap between you. His hand slid gently down your arm, capturing your hand in his, his fingers lacing with yours as if they belonged there.
“I’ve been waiting all day to see you,” he admitted, his voice dropping to a whisper, and there was something in his tone that tugged at your heart – something deeper, more meaningful, than just his words.
Your pulse quickened at his closeness, at the way his gaze never left yours. “It’s only been a few days, Jace,” you teased lightly, though the emotion in your voice betrayed the longing you had felt in his absence.
He chuckled softly, his thumb tracing circles on the back of your hand, a familiar, soothing gesture that now held an extra layer of intimacy. “A day can feel like an eternity when you’re away from someone important,” he murmured, his eyes softening with sincerity.
There was something about the way he looked at you tonight, something in his touch, in the subtle tension between you that felt different – heavier, more charged. As if the unspoken things that had lingered between you were finally on the verge of surfacing.
“What happened today?” you asked quietly, your curiosity growing stronger. He had been away all day, and yet here he was, practically glowing with happiness. It was as though something had shifted, and though you didn’t know what it was, you could sense the importance of it in every move he made.
Jacaerys hesitated for a moment, his smile faltering ever so slightly, as if he was carefully considering how to answer. His hand squeezed yours gently, reassuringly, before he spoke again. “I spoke to my mother,” he said, his voice holding a note of quiet significance.
You tilted your head, your brows furrowing in confusion. “About what?” you asked softly, though your heart was already beginning to race, sensing that whatever conversation he had with his mother had something to do with you.
He exhaled slowly, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips, though there was a flicker of nervousness in his eyes now.
Jacaerys took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. When he spoke, his voice was soft, filled with a tenderness that made your heart ache.
"Do you remember," he began, "when we were children? How I used to follow you around the castle, always trying to be wherever you were?"
You nodded, a fond smile tugging at your lips. "Of course. You were like my shadow."
He chuckled softly, his thumb still tracing gentle circles on your hand. "I was, wasn't I? Back then, I didn't understand why. I just knew that being near you made me happy. It was... instinctive, I suppose. The way love often is for children."
Your breath caught at the word 'love', but Jacaerys continued, his voice growing more earnest.
"As we grew older, I started to hear the whispers. The stories that would float through the halls, passed between servants and nobles alike. Tales of a connection so rare and profound that even dragons could sense it."
He paused, his eyes searching yours, as if gauging your reaction. "I never put much stock in those stories. They seemed like fairy tales, meant for songs and legends, not for real life. But then..."
Jacaerys' free hand came up to cup your cheek, his touch feather-light and reverent. "Then I realized that after all these years, I still feel the same way. That instinct to be near you, to seek out your company, to find joy in your presence – it never faded. If anything, it's only grown stronger."
Your heart was pounding now, each beat echoing in your ears. Jacaerys' words hung in the air between you, heavy with implication and unspoken emotion.
"Jace," you whispered, your voice barely audible. 
He smiled then, a soft, vulnerable expression that made him look younger, more open than you'd ever seen him. "I spoke to my mother today about something I've known in my heart for a long time. Something I think – I hope – you might feel too."
Jacaerys took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. "I asked her for permission to court you. Properly, openly, with the intention of... of marriage, if you'll have me."
The world seemed to still around you, narrowing down to just this moment, just the two of you standing in the soft candlelight of your chambers. Jacaerys' words echoed in your mind, each one carrying the weight of years of unspoken feelings, of a connection that had grown so gradually and yet so powerfully that it took your breath away.
"Jace," you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper. "You're the prince, the future king. Surely there are political considerations, alliances to be made-"
He shook his head, cutting off your words with a gentle squeeze of your hand. "I don't care about politics or alliances," he said firmly. "Not when it comes to this. Not when it comes to us. I want to choose for myself, remember? And I choose you. I've always chosen you."
Your heart felt like it might burst from your chest, a mix of joy and disbelief coursing through you. "And your mother? What did she say?"
Jacaerys' smile widened, his eyes sparkling with barely contained happiness. "She said yes. She said she's known for years that this was where my heart lay. And she... she approves. Of you. Of us."
You felt tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, overwhelmed by the enormity of what Jacaerys was offering. A future together, open and acknowledged, no longer hidden in stolen moments and meaningful glances.
"I... I don't know what to say." you murmured, your free hand coming up to rest on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm. 
He leaned in closer, his forehead resting gently against yours. "Say yes," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. "Say you'll let me court you, that you'll consider a future with me. That's all I ask."
The joy that lit up Jacaerys' face was radiant, brighter than any dawn you'd ever seen. He pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace. You could feel his heart racing, matching the rhythm of your own.Your throat tightened, words catching somewhere deep inside as you stared into Jacaerys' eyes. His forehead pressed softly against yours, his breath warm and steady, while your heart raced uncontrollably. The truth of everything he had said wrapped around you, too much to process all at once. You had dreamed of this – of him – but you never imagined hearing it, feeling it, like this.
Your chest swelled with emotions too big to contain, the joy so sharp it almost hurt. A smile tugged at your lips, so wide it made your face ache, but you couldn’t stop it. You didn’t want to stop it.
Jacaerys was offering you everything. A future, his heart, and the freedom to choose him. His words echoed in your mind, soft but sure: I choose you.
You didn’t know what to say, didn’t trust yourself to speak without your voice cracking. All you could feel was the overwhelming happiness surging through you. He wanted this. He wanted you. The enormity of it all made you dizzy.
Without thinking, without planning, you moved – instinct, just like he said. Your hand tightened slightly on his chest, pulling him closer, your heart hammering as you closed the distance between you.
Jacaerys barely had time to react before your lips met his, soft and sudden, a rush of emotion driving the kiss. His breath hitched in surprise, but it only took a heartbeat for him to respond, his free hand sliding to the small of your back, gently drawing you closer.
His fingers pressed gently into your skin, grounding you both in the here and now, in the quiet certainty of what was happening between you. What started as a tender, soft press of lips quickly became more – a release of everything unsaid, everything that had simmered between you for so long. His mouth moved against yours with urgency, one hand cupping the back of your neck, the other tightening its hold on your waist, pulling you impossibly closer.
Your hands found their way into his hair, fingers tangling in the dark strands, tugging slightly, and you felt Jacaerys’ breath hitch against your lips. His mouth parted, and without hesitation, you responded in kind, the kiss growing wetter, more breathy as his tongue slid against yours in a slow, tantalizing dance. The taste of him, warm and intoxicating, made your knees weak, but Jacaerys held you steady, his body pressed firmly against yours.
The room felt smaller now, the air charged with the heat between you. His touch was everywhere – his hands roving across your back, your sides, as if trying to memorize the shape of you. You gasped softly into the kiss as his fingers trailed down your spine, the sensation sending shivers through your body. 
Every breath was shared, every movement synchronizing as you poured every unspoken word, every hidden desire, into this moment. His lips, soft and insistent, claimed yours with a raw, palpable need, his tongue flicking gently against yours, teasing, exploring, drawing small, breathless sounds from you that only spurred him on.
The world outside ceased to exist, fading into nothingness as Jacaerys pressed you back against the nearest wall, his body solid and warm against yours. His kiss grew more passionate, his breath ragged as he angled his head, deepening the connection between you. The taste of him, mixed with the faint scent of salt and wind from the sea, enveloped your senses, making you dizzy with want.
You could feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest, the warmth of his breath mingling with yours as his lips parted further, the kiss becoming open, wetter, more desperate. He kissed you like a man who had waited years to do so – his lips, his tongue, exploring you with a reverence that made your pulse race, made your skin burn.
His hand slid down your side, lingering at your hip before pulling you flush against him, and the feel of his body pressed against yours made a low, breathy sigh escape your throat. You felt Jacaerys respond, a soft groan rumbling deep in his chest as his hand slipped beneath your tunic, his fingers skimming the bare skin at your waist. The touch was gentle, reverent, but it sent a fire through your veins.
He broke the kiss for only a moment, his forehead resting against yours, both of you gasping for air, breaths mingling in the heated space between you. His eyes, dark with desire, searched yours, and in that brief moment of silence, you saw everything – years of unspoken feelings, of longing, of love. 
Jacaerys' breath came in short, ragged bursts, his forehead still pressed against yours as he tried to steady himself. His fingers, warm and trembling, grazed the skin at your waist, the sensation grounding you both in this fragile, beautiful moment. 
When he finally spoke, his voice was hoarse, breathy, but filled with a raw honesty that made your heart clench. "I used to believe," he whispered, his lips brushing yours as he spoke, "that you were a gift... sent by the gods." His thumb traced a slow, reverent circle along your hip, his gaze searching your face like he was still in awe that you were here, with him. "Even when I was little, I thought... maybe they made you just for me. Maybe that's why... I could never stay away."
His words wrapped around your heart, tightening with a tenderness that made your breath hitch. Jacaerys had always been a steady presence, always at your side, but to hear it now – to hear that he'd felt this way, even as children – left you speechless. 
His hand cupped your cheek, thumb brushing lightly over your skin as he stared into your eyes. "I’ve wanted this for so long," he murmured, voice shaking with emotion. "Longer than I even understood."
His confession hung in the air between you, soft and fragile, yet so filled with meaning it made the weight of his feelings unmistakable. You could see it in his eyes – the years of unspoken longing, of a quiet yearning that had finally spilled over.  
As Jacaerys held you, his breath fanning over your lips, you became aware of the subtle scent clinging to him – the faint, calming fragrance of freshly picked lavender, mingling with the salty tang of the sea. It was an unexpected but gentle contrast, delicate yet grounding. The lavender must have been tucked in his pocket, its presence weaving into the natural scent of him, a gentle reminder of the day you told him it suited him.
Jacaerys’ thumb continued to trace slow circles against your cheek, his eyes still fixed on yours with a look so tender it made your heart ache. The lavender lingered, soft and sweet, mixing with the warmth of his body, the salt of the sea. It was intoxicating, wrapping around you like the feel of his arms, like the weight of his confession.
In the quiet of your chambers, with the soft glow of candles casting a warm light around you, you and Jacaerys held onto each other, savoring the start of something new, something that had been years in the making. And somewhere in the distance, as if sensing the shift in the very air around you, you could have sworn you heard the contented rumble of a dragon, approving of the love that had finally been acknowledged between its rider and the one who had stolen both their hearts.
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fastandcarlos · 3 months ago
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Leo’s Little Love : ̗̀➛ Charles LeClerc
summary: the birth of your daughter was supposed to be the happiest moment for you and charles, but both of you forgot about leo too
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Your little family had almost been complete for quite some time. You, Charles and Leo. The perfect trio. Why fix something that isn’t broke? Why add to the chaos of your crazy lives? Well, because you both couldn’t wait to become parents. 
It never was meant to be so soon, neither you or Charles had planned to fall pregnant quite so suddenly but your life had always been mayhem, and pregnancy was just another cog to add to the wheel of things that you needed to juggle together.  
It had been touch and go for quite some time as your baby’s arrival loomed. With just two weeks to go Charles had never been happier to see the start of the summer break which meant at last he could be glued to your side and be there just in case anything happened. 
Being at home was something that Charles very quickly got used to, laid out on the sofa with you tucked into his side. Charles didn’t always get his own way though, with Leo snuggled just underneath your bump to block Charles holding onto it. 
“I wonder how he’s going to be.” 
Your attention was pulled from your book when Charles spoke, following his gaze down to where Leo laid, snoring lightly with his eyes tight shut. 
“What do you mean?” You asked him. 
“I’m just thinking about when the baby arrives, do you think Leo will respond well to not being the centre of our attention anymore?” Charles questioned. 
Your eyes flickered between Charles and Leo and your bump as you pondered Charles’ question. Truthfully, it was something that you had never quite thought about before, but if there was one word that you’d use to describe Leo, it was definitely needy.  
“I think he’ll enjoy having someone else to be around,” you spoke after a few moments. 
“He’ll definitely love an extra body to cuddle up to.” 
It was almost as if he knew that you were talking about him, as Leo’s head lifted up and his wide eyes looked at you both as if to remind you that he could hear everything.  
“You know, I’ve got a feeling that Leo and this baby might just end up being the best of friends, I definitely think we’re going to have trouble on our hands.” 
Ever since that conversation you pictured how your family, or especially Leo, would adapt to the baby, counting down the days until all those dream scenarios became a reality.  
And just a couple of weeks later your little girl arrived. It was tougher than you could have ever imagined, but with Charles not leaving your side for the many hours that you were in labour for, your family was soon complete. Charles was an emotional mess beside you, but through his tears he knew that he’d just experienced the best moments of his entire life. 
You might’ve been a little bit bias, but your baby girl was the definition of perfect. Straight away you were drawn to her bright eyes, a striking resemblance to Charles’. They captured your attention, just like Charles’ had done many years ago when the two of you first met.  
And as Charles held her for the first time and you got your first look at the two of them side by side, you knew you had a daddy’s girl on your hands. She was instantly besotted, settled and comfortable in Charles’ strong hold, almost as if you were the one who was intruding on the moment between your husband and your child despite being the one to bring her into the world. 
“It’s a good job we’ve got Leo otherwise I think I’d be outnumbered at home with you two,” you joked as Charles made himself comfortable.  
You knew deep down though you wouldn’t have Leo for long, as the two of you arrived home with your daughter. It had been a couple of days since he got to see you and Charles, unaware that a new arrival was waiting on the other side of the door to greet him too. 
Together you took things slowly as you returned to your apartment, Charles took Leo into your bedroom whilst you settled in the living room with your daughter. Once you were sure that she was settled you called through to Charles who poked his head out from behind the bedroom door. 
“Are you absolutely sure about doing this now?” Charles nervously asked you. 
“Charles, we’re going to have to do it sooner or later. We might as well get it over with whilst they’re both pretty settled.” 
He trusted you more than anyone, and so Charles decided to open the bedroom door and allow Leo to come out. It was as if nothing was going on as if strolled through the apartment, that was until his eye was caught by the carrier that sat on your living room floor. Charles came over and sat beside you, his hand on your thigh as Leo began to inspect. 
Leo had a little sniff around the carrier as he familiarised with the something new that had entered his home. After giving him a moment you reached into the carrier and lifted your daughter out, holding her just in front of where Leo was. 
It took a little while for Leo to stop fussing over your daughter, looking up at you and Charles. His eyes told the two of you that he approved of your little girl, walking away from her once he was happy with what was going on. 
“See, I told you there was nothing to worry about.” 
Your words were truer than ever though that night as Charles laid on your bed with his daughter laid just beside him. You walked through after taking an overdue shower, surprised to see that there was another addition to your bed. They say that three is a crowd, but not in this case. 
Your heart felt like it could burst as your daughter laid between Charles on her left, and Leo on her right, his head almost touching hers as if to reassure her that he was right beside her too. 
Charles’ eyes knew exactly where you were looking. You were supposed to be annoyed that your side of the bed had been stolen, but instead it was a memory that you wanted to snapshot for the rest of your life. 
You were sure that you had never seen anything so beautiful in your life, Leo had made sure your daughter was well protected and surrounded by love. Even Charles couldn’t get as close to her as Leo was, firmly establishing himself as her number one. 
Just like you, Charles couldn’t fault the scene that was unfolding in front of you though. Things had gone better than either of you could have ever imagined, all of the concerns that Charles had had long been forgotten now that your family of four were all home together.  
“Why do I feel like we’re never going to be allowed near our daughter ever again?” Charles laughed across at you. 
“I think out of the three of us, she’s definitely Leo’s love before she’s ours,” you added, unable to wipe the smile from your face. “I think they’re going to be the best of friends.” 
Charles hummed in agreement with you, tilting his head down to watch them both once again. If he could pause time forever, he absolutely would. It was all that he had ever dreamt of, and so much more. 
“We’ve got the two most beautiful children in the world.” 
˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ��ˎ˗
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slaytheusurper · 5 months ago
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⭑ The ballad of the raven and the dragon ⭑
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Masterlist
A/N: PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE!!!!!! PLEASE KIERAN BURTON ONE CHANCE JUST ONE!!!!!!!!
Pairing: Benjicot ("Davos") Blackwood x targ!princess!reader
Summary: Being the only daughter of queen Rhaenrya and the heir to the throne is not easy, after convincing your mother to let you patrol near the riverlands you come across a battle where you meet the infamous Bloody Ben.
Word count: 3k
Warnings: NSFW, mdni, smut, burning brackens, making out, dry humping, oral (f receiving), oral (m receiving), wine play, vaginal sex.
It was another grey and windy morning at Dragon Stone. The sea waves crashing against the cliffs, dragons roaring in the sky. War was brewing and so was the tension at Dragon Stone. Being heir to the iron throne was heavier than you thought, the meetings with the black council were getting more dreadful and your mother, the queen, more protective of you and your brothers by the day. Ever since Ser Arryks intrusion she had more guards on watch and you were rarely allowed to leave, especially because you are the queen's only daughter and heir. 
However this morning after begging her to let you patrol the lands, she finally gave in, only for a short while. So your handmaiden quickly helped you change and put your hair up for the flight. Practically running towards the cave, you could barely pace yourself to get to your dragon. She was big for her age and almost as fierce as Caraxes. After getting on her, she felt your excitement and quickly flew out. After a while of flying around Dragon Stone you decided to go a bit further, near the riverlands. 
When you were getting closer high in the sky, you spotted some people near cow fields and a mill, so to take a closer look you descended down enough so you could see them better. Just to check if you didn’t come across the greens knights. Now being lower you could hear some yelling, and then their clothes became more apparent. Around four or so in yellow and brown and the other 4 in black and red, which in the riverlands only meant one thing. Brackens and Blackwoods. However they did not seem to notice you, too caught up in the argument. You were debating on landing out of curiosity but quickly made your decision when swords were drawn and a fight broke out. 
Then you noticed that more Brackens turned up, you knew they declared for Aegon and even though your mother told you not to engage, you never turned away from a fight. You quickly descended with your dragon and she let out a shrieking roar. The faces of the men looked up but there was no time for the Brackens to run as you commanded, “Dracarys!”. Your dragon incinerated a good half of the brackens, the other now starting to run. You quickly turned the two of you around to get on their heels and burn the remaining of them. Your body filled with adrenaline and you dragon roaring with triumph and excitement herself you heard the victorious chants of the Blackwood men down below. 
So deciding to officially meet your allies you landed near them, seemingly their commander already heading towards you. As you stood on the ground you met him halfway and could barely hold in your smile at the sight of him. Never had you seen someone as fierce, unique and handsome looking as him. “My princess, thank the gods for you and your dragon. You saved us many men.” He greeted you with a grin. “It was my pleasure, any green I see I’ll turn black.” He laughed at that, took a step closer and gave you a soft bow with his head. 
“However exciting I find to burn my enemies, this was still unnecessary my lord. I don’t remember my mother giving out orders to kill Brackens.” You lectured, your tone a bit more serious now. Even though it was thrilling, your mother would surely hear of this and get upset. “I understand your grace but those cunts deserve death, anyone who stands with the usurper does.” The fearsome lord gritted out. “But I do apologise, I meant no offence to her grace the queen…or the beautiful princess.” He said that last part softer and with a smile. 
You felt like a little girl again, blushing at his words. “I know you didn't, my lord.” He smiled again and you felt your skin heat up beneath your clothes, there was just something about him...a certain mischief. “Raventree Hall is not too far your grace, I would like to offer you some wine and food for your troubles.” He petitioned. “It was no trouble my lord but I’ll take that offer. I assume you’re on horseback?” You smiled. “Yes your grace, you could ride with me if it pleases you.” He offered. “Have you ever flown on a dragon my lord?” The words left your lips before you could even think about them. The lord of house Blackwood made you say and do things you never thought you would for a man. 
“I haven’t your grace, what are you suggesting?” He looked at you with a mix of curiosity and nervousness on his face. “Fly with me, it’s faster and more fun.” Your words surprised him and he seemed to debate on whether he should. But Benjicot Blackwood was a brave man and at this moment he would do anything to please the princess, even risking his life on a dragon's back. His men cheered behind him and one of them even pushed him in your direction. “Even if I didn’t want to, it looks like I have no choice.” He chuckled. 
“Well let’s go then.” You walked over to your dragon who didn’t seem to love the idea but always did as you commanded anyway. When you were seated, you asked your dragon to lower herself a bit for Lord Blackwood “Ivestragī zirȳla va.” and she did, almost with a grunt.  He climbed on behind you in the saddle as you scootched a bit forward to make room for the tall man. “Ready?” You asked him, grabbing the reins, his men moving out of the way before you. “I think so.” He said, holding on to your waist, which totally didn’t make your heart skip a beat. “Sōvēs.” The second the word left your lips, your dragon started to move, taking some steps before rising into the sky, wings flapping. You could hear the men below you gasp and cheer and felt the lord's hands holding on tighter to your waist. 
After some time of soaring through the skies, Raventree Hall finally came into view. With a loud thump your dragon landed on the ground and you showed lord Blackwood on how to get off, after he got off as well he grinned and led you to the gates of Raventree Hall, the tall weirwood tree looming not too far away. Following Lord Blackwood through his home you were greeted by the guards and servants roaming the place, all with a polite bow or curtsy and a soft “your grace” or “princess”. When you arrived in the big dining hall, it was empty except for you two and some guards. 
Sitting opposite to each other at the table he had a servant fetch some wine, bread, cheese and fruits. “Do you have a favourite fruit or cheese princess?” He asked while removing his gloves. “I wouldn’t want your servants to go out of their way, really anything is fine.” You smiled, cautiously observing his handsome face and veiny hands. He still had some blood on his face, which somehow made him even more alluring. When the food and wine arrived he sent the few guards and servants away and poured you some wine himself. “Thank you my lord.” You said politely, hands in your lap as you watched his tall figure looming over you behind your seat, putting the goblet in front of you. Pouring himself some too he sat back down.
“My princess you needn't call me ‘my lord’, please call me Ben.” His request surprised you but you gave him a smile and nod nonetheless. “Alright... I will.” He took a sip of his wine and looked at you shamelessly. Normally you hated men looking at you like that, but him doing it- made you hot and flushed. “I know it has been a year already but I still wanted to say how sorry I was to hear of your father. I didn’t know him well but I knew he was fierce on the battlefield.” You spoke softly. “Thank you, I must admit that seeing those Brackens today triggered some grief I still had left.” He looked down as he spoke. “I’m so sorry, I know how it feels to have your father taken by the stranger. It will get better, if there is anything I can do for you.” 
He looked at you with kind eyes. “You are too kind, and quite fierce on the battlefield yourself.” He complimented you, now with his mischievous smile back on his face. “Thank you.” You glanced around the empty room before you spoke again. “Do you- have a wife?” You almost stumbled over your words, the question wasn’t disgraceful... but how it was perceived could be. “No, the war and finding my place as new lord of Raventree Hall have kept me busy. It gives me space to...explore and experience, I guess.” He said looking at you once again- did he just look at your chest? “I see. A man is lucky enough to do that, many even continue to explore and experience well into marriage.” You said with a certain jealousy behind it. You seemed to both understand the meaning behind your words, the impure meaning. 
The winds blowing through the cold Raventree Hall made the room cool your heated conversation down a bit but your want for him couldn’t be blown away. Your eyes met each other and you couldn’t help but notice a certain change in demeanour from him. “Have you had the opportunity to explore or experience much in life yet princess?” The way he said the words, low and almost raspy, made your breath catch in your throat. “No.” You said soft and meek. He paused before he dared speak his next words. “Have you ever wondered what it’s like…” His tone was still low and soft. “Yes-” You answered quickly, you wanted nothing more than his touch. 
Before you could protest he rose from his seat, walked to the hall doors and opened them. You thought you had perhaps scared him off but then you heard him speak to the guards outside the door. “The princess has a delicate matter to discuss with me, so take your leave for the night. Make sure no servants pass here.” You could hear a hushed ‘yes my lord’ and footsteps leaving as he closed the doors again. On instinct you stood up and he walked over to you. Looking at each other's eyes and lips once more he surged forward and crashed his lips against yours. His strong grip on your waist and lips moving against yours made a soft moan escape your lips. He moved you tighter against him and your arms were holding on to his back.
His veiny hands moving down to your ass and gripping it tightly caused your clothed pussy and his hardening cock to grind on each other making him groan against your lips. Pausing the kiss for a moment you begged him to do it again. “I have a better idea.” He mumbled against your lips, giving you a chaste kiss as he moved you towards the table. With your ass now touching the edge of the table his hands moved to knead your breasts before lifting you up on the table and standing between your legs. He held onto you before kissing you again, your own hands moving to his dark hair. 
Bringing you close again he started to grind his hard on right against your clothed cunt, making you moan and whine into his mouth. He left your lips to kiss along your jaw, sucking on your neck next. “Please- harder...feels so good.” You pleaded. “Fuck-” He muttered against your neck, now full on humping you like a dog, panting and cussing underneath his ragged breaths. The table was croaking and scratching the floor from the movements. Your hands held on tighter in your hair as you felt your orgasm wash over you, sudden and unknown but you never felt this amount of pleasure. As the pleasure overtook you you held your breath, his moans now becoming louder as well. “Feels good- doesn’t it pretty princess? Just wait until I fuck you on my cock.” His dirty words made you gasp and whine in response before he sadly stopped his movements. Instead he started removing your clothes, you quickly helped, once left in your undergarments and chemise he started to remove his own clothes as well, leaving him in just his breeches, the thin fabric gave you a full view of the big tent that his hard cock created. 
You couldn’t stop your hand from wanting to touch his cock, his breath hitched as your fingers touched his tip. “Does that feel good?” You asked in a seductive tone, you knew what you were doing and this newfound sinful power made you wonder what else you could do to him. “Ohh yesss.” He shuddered, “Just like that-” Your hand now fully grasped his cock moving the skin over his tip underneath the cloth. “S-stop, fuck, before you make me cum already.” Ben said with a breathy chuckle. Setting you back on the table he removed the remainder of your clothes, at the sight of your breasts he paused and couldn’t help but stare. Throwing the rest of your clothes on the floor he reached behind you and grabbed the goblet of half filled wine. “Shall we make this memorable?” He smiled mischievously. You could only nod and look at him with slight confusion, but it all became clear when he tipped the goblet over by your left breast, wine trickling down your nipple before Ben moved to lick it up and suck on the skin. You inhaled at the sensation. 
Moving to your right nipple he once again let some wine flow down your breast before he licked it up again. He kissed you once more. Then he licked your lips and sank to his knees. Your brows furrowed in confusion but you were excited for what he was about to do next. He started to kiss up your legs, kneading your thighs and hips. Your eyes rolled back at the sight before you. His head now moved between your thighs, moving the cup right above your already wet cunt he tipped it over again letting wine spill over your pussy and again he didn’t fail to lick it up. 
But this time it felt a thousand times better than your breasts. A gasp and moan left your mouth and you grabbed his head for support when he repeated the action, however this time he started to suck, lick and devour you. Putting the wine on the ground he grabbed your hips to hold you still as he went in like you were his dinner. “Gods- please- Ben!” You could never keep quiet with the way his tongue was fucking you now. And due to your sensitivity from your previous orgasm, you came undone in a matter of seconds, coating his face in your arousal. 
“Thats a good fucking girl.” He smiled leaving soft kisses on your mound before rising again. “Please, please take me. Bend me over the table and take me Ben.” You breathlessly begged. With a look of pure lust on his face he did as his princess told. Moving you off the table and turning you around he bended you over, your breasts pressing against the hard table. Hurriedly removing his breeches, he lined up his hard cock with your entrance. Using his tip to spread around your juices. “Seven hells-” He groaned as he let his tip slip inside you. You moaned and gripped the table for support as he now slowly sank into you. 
“You okay? Can I move?” He asked breathlessly. “Yes- please I’m fine- just fuck me already-” He wasted no time and grabbed your ass cheeks as he fucked into you. Gaspes, pants and moans filled the room as he pounded harder into you. He couldn’t help but slap your ass and grip it harder making you roll your eyes back in ecstasy. The table shook underneath you and now you understand why he even sent the guards outside away. 
The noises of sweaty skin slapping against each other, the moans, the cusses, the pleading, panting and creaking of the table spurred Benjicot on even more. Lifting your right leg so your knee was resting on the table as well allowed in to fuck you even deeper. His cock now fully hitting your cervix. He had to remind himself who he was fucking and that he couldn’t fill you with his cum. That became an even more difficult task as he could feel the walls of your pussy clenching around him tighter making him moan your name with each pound into you. 
Moving his fingers to your clit while thrusting into you, moaning your name against your shoulder you came with a moan of his name. Benji quickly pulled out and you turned around “On your knees.” He commanded, and you did. You had a feeling of what he wanted and opened your mouth, with a smile Ben put his leaking cock in your mouth as you started sucking. His moans became louder again and he filled your mouth, cussing as he came too, swallowing his cum he caressed your cheek before helping you up. Heavy breaths filled the room and breathy laughs from you both. He pulled you closer and you held each other for a bit.
Until you had to break the silence. “No one can know Ben.” You spoke resting your chin on his chest when you looked at him. “I know.” You shared a solemn smile before you pulled away from him reaching for your chemise on the ground. “Let me keep it.” He stammered. “Why would-” He took it from you. “Because, when you leave I’ll have something of you. And when I am lonely at night...I could relive the memory of my cock deep in your cunt.” He spoke lowly. “Okay.” You smiled, giving him a light kiss before getting dressed. Anxiety filled you as your mother must be worried by now. “I do have to leave now.” You said after Ben got dressed as well. “I know.” You kissed each other one last time before you left with your dragon, soaring through the sky as your heart hurt at the thought of not being with him.
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racew1nn3rs · 4 months ago
Text
─ 𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘦 𝘪𝘪𝘪. (𝘯𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘮𝘶𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳) ⛵️
⤷ summary: miami and monaco. just lando being horribly down bad and y/n being at her wits end. poor oscar just can't escape the train wreck that is two losers with feelings and zero (0) emotional competency .
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liked by landonorris, ynusername, and 45,790 others
tagged oscarpiastri and landonorris
mclaren sorry to report that the only good thing about miami was the weather! (and the celebrities)
17,492 comments
user1 it's okay admin, you can say the car was shit
mclaren yeah the car was shit
user2 mclaren team is cursed i fear
mclaren alr where my witch baddies at? please unhex us pls pls pls
user3 uhm!!!????
mclaren desperate times desperate measures and all that jazz
user4 normal people: oh no the car is bad. yn: we're cursed for generations to come ☹️
landonorris i didn't get to meet shakira, what's the point of going on living
mclaren there is none! kys
landonorris oh wow
user5 nahhhh she gettin fired 💀
user6 not a single photo with lando's face 😭
user7 boohoo ☺️ OSCAR FANS, THEY BROKE BUT WE UP ‼️‼️‼️
user6 ok enough
landonorris post me challenge (difficult)
mclaren uh no (: go talk to hr bro we do not careeeeeee
user8 this beef is crazy, yall havent made up yet
user9 DOES ANYONE EVEN KNOW WHY THEYRE BEEFING 😭
oscarpiastri yeah
mclaren hey oscar! great race
oscarpiastri don't ever lie to my face like that again
maxfewtrell gonna build the car myself at this point
user10 i see a podium in our future everyone say thank you max
user11 y/n livestream when 😔
ynusername (;
user11 WHAT DOES THIS MEAN
user12 lando and admin flirting again, who could've guessed
user13 ... she told him to kill himself
user14 the enemies to lovers is enemying 🤩
user13 yeah, it's giving enemies to lovers but no lovers only murder
mclaren truth.
user12 ARIANA WHAT ARE YOU DOING HWRE
user15 mclaren, fire everyone and hire y/n as the engineer/ strategist/ driver/ pit crew/ pr
mclaren we winning 🥱
oscarpiastri you'd be the only one finishing cause everyone else would die ☝🏻
mclaren shut the fuck up oscar 🙄
user16 flying cars they said 😔
mclaren how the mighty have fallen
user17 WE THE BEST TEAM ON THE GRIDDDD YUHHH
mclaren i'm gonna hold your hand while i say this
user18 it's been 20 years since i've seen my husband 😞 (admin won't post pictures of lando anymore)
mclaren your husband is ugly as fuck
landonorris what the fuck!
mclaren get off your phone loser
user19 full oscar picture when (i'mbeg ging you please i needg it nowe)
mclaren BAD DOG DOWN OMFG
lilyzneimer i would argue you were the best part of miami
mclaren YOU ARE SO FINE YOU SHUT YOUR MOUTH BEAUTIFUL GIRL 🤭
oscarpiastri GET AWAY FROM HER YOU FREAK 🤺
user20 y/n being unprofessional on the team page, who's shocked
mclaren and the world kept spinning
user21 we all know who was really shit here (looking at you lando)
mclaren it's not funny when you do it.
landonorris when she defends you 🥴
mclaren i'm telling a trusted adult danielricciardo
danielricciardo what the fuck makes you think i can be trusted
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would you like to join? yes or no
now loading...
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The image flickered onto the screen as the broadcast began. Lando, clothed comfortably in sweats, a cap, and his streaming headphones, looked briefly off camera to where his guests sat waiting to be introduced.
He glanced up at Streamlabs and was shocked to see he had upwards of 30,000 viewers. He had only just started the stream and many people had likely not even gotten the Twitch notification yet. He shook off his shock and plastered on his usual smirk.
Everything is fine. I am totally and completely fine.
"Welcome, welcome. How are you all doing today? There's a lot of people here already. What's the special occasion guys?" He joked, being met with a scoff from the girl to his left.
Everything is not fine at all.
Lando almost never felt nervous when he would stream. After all, he was just playing game with his friends, the chat comments streaming through at a speed he could barely read. Even then, being in Formula One for so long meant he was used to being watched, his every little move being observed nearly constantly since his debut in 2019.
And yet all it took was her presence and suddenly he was nervous. His palms were sweaty, his heart was beating at a mile a minute- honestly you would think he were racing. How could he be expected to be funny and charming when she was here. She never seemed to struggle much in the department. It was almost entirely natural for her. Being perfect was like breathing air to Y/n he suspected.
As he watched the chat messages stream past even quicker on his monitor, he finally caught Oscar's gaze out of the corner of his eye. The younger man quirked a brow at him. What's your problem? His teammate seemed to say. He ignored him. Stupid Oscar and his stupid opinions and his stupid, uncomplicated love life. Lando envied the Australian most days, but now he just wanted to punch him straight in the jaw.
"Alright, it seems like most people are here already, so I'll just get started. I'm sure you're all wondering who my special guests are. The suspense must be killing you surely," He teased his audience. He ignored the completely accurate guesses in his chat.
Was he so predictable that it could be assumed it was either his teammate, Y/n, or Max were his special guests? Or was this a more unfortunate warning sign that he was just plain old boring.
"Seems like most people in chat were smart enough to figure it out! Please give a warm welcome to my guests! The lovely, stunning, awe-inspiring Y/n!" He cheered as the girl groaned, rolling her chair forward so she was behind him and within the frame of the camera.
"Oh and also Oscar's here," Lando added boredly, voice almost entirely monotone. Oscar scoffed loudly and he shot into frame kicking Lando's chair roughly, almost knocking him over and startling a laugh out of the girl behind them.
"Your an asshole mate," Oscar scoffed. Lando didn't hear him. The melodic laughing in his ear from Y/n was quite frankly the only sound his brain could process.
Who knew a laugh could sound so beautiful.
Who knew I could be so god damn embarrassing, Lando thought miserably.
"Guys do you see what I have to put up with!? How I get any shit done around here is a wonder," Y/n scoffed, "Anyways, welcome everybody, this is my stream now." Lando squawked indignantly.
"Excuse you, your in my home!"
"Yeah, unfortunately," she muttered with an eye roll and Oscar laughed.
"You should be grateful! Although these aren't the circumstances I was hoping to have you here under for the first time," Lando said with a completely unsubtle wink.
Y/n grimaced and Oscar doubled over with the force of his laughter.
"Viewers I am so sorry, please leave now, I have no way to muzzle him and apparently I can't sensor him," Y/n scowled.
"I fear he might enjoy that," Oscar muttered with a shake of his head.
Oh you motherfucker, Lando thought. Talk about subtle.
"If it was you, I probably would," Lando said to the girl and she planted her palm into the center of his face and shoved him lightly.
"Oh gross, cooties or STDs or whatever it is you men carry," Y/n shook her hands off and fake gagged.
"EXCUSE ME!" Lando shouted as Oscar nearly fell out of his chair.
"You're excused!"
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Y/n was holding on to her sanity by a thread. Or whatever was smaller than a thread... a hair or something. They had been answering fan questions for nearly 15 minutes already and Lando had decided today would be the day he would do nothing but flirt with her incessantly. He was like a child with a question or dog with a bone; He wouldn't let it the fuck go.
The sound of text-to-speech beginning dragged Y/n out of her thought spiral.
"Lando, what is your favorite video you've ever filmed?" The question asked.
Oh brother, Y/n thought. She looked at Oscar and he only laughed. How helpful.
"Probably the water TikTok challenge," Oscar hummed in agreeance.
"Why?" Y/n asked in confusion. She realized belatedly that asking Lando anything right now was probably a bad idea. She had set herself up this time.
"I don't know, I'm just a personal fan of anything that involves your hands in my hair," He smirked and she rolled her eyes. Her stomach flipped as she looked at his eyes. How could such a stupid, stupid man have such nice eyes (and lips, and teeth, and-).
"Well that's interesting," She smirked back, leaning her body toward him, ignoring the way she was blushing down to her chest. Her ears felt hot. It was hard to focus when she felt like she was burning alive, an unfortunate side effect that seemed to come with the irritating Brit in front of her.
"That was my favorite too," she added and Lando's eyes widened. Oscar looked at her in confusion over Lando's head.
"Really?" Lando asked, suprise clear in his voice. His smirk fell away for only a moment, but it was long enough for Y/n to notice.
Poor little Lando Norris, she thought. A bit too easy to read, this one.
"Yep," she grinned, before letting her face fall. "I'm a big fan of anything that means I can drown you." She responded in a monotone voice. Oscar cackled. The poor guy had hardly been asked any questions. Y/n found she didn't feel too bad anyway. The asshole was enjoying her suffering far too much.
Y/n knew the chat was going wild at their interactions, but she didn't really find herself caring. Maybe this was a bad look from a PR stand point, but then again didn't they always say "any press is good press."
Y/n wondered if the idiots who said that had ever had an inappropriate attraction to their asshole of a coworker, who just so happened to be public figure with fans who were becoming more aware of the tension with every day that interacted.
Probably fucking not.
Y/n watched as Lando's faux upset face cracked into a smile as he began to laugh heartily. She couldn't help but smile. Y/n was finding it hard to hold onto whatever grudge she had before. Maybe Lando Norris and his perfect smile, and his stupid jokes and his charming attitude weren't all that bad. Maybe, just maybe.
But they had absolutely no affect on her. None at all.
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liked by maxfewtrell, oscarpiastri, and 38,924 others
tagged landonorris
ynusername monaco post-gp (help me this guy is stalking me i can't get rid of him help hel
11,209 comments
user22 damn he took out my girl mid-sentence 😔
user23 Y/N POSTED LANDO?? AM I DREAMING?? AM I HAVING A STROKE??? OH GOD AM I DEAD
user24 girl calm the fuck down
user25 DOES THIS MEAN THE BEEF IS OVER
ynusername yes! (he has a gun to my head)
user26 LANY/N SHIPPERS WE RISE ONCE MORE
user27 get it together, they've posted together ONCE
user28 is lany/n in the room with us
user29 "lando and y/n getting along isn't real, it can't hurt you!" OH REALLY
landonorris i had other plans but i cancelled them to be your tour guide, you're welcome
ynusername me when i fucking lie
oscarpiastri do my eyes decieve me
ynusername shut up oscar
landonorris yeah shut up oscar
user30 couples that fight their friend together, stay together
ynusername i can and will block you 😃
user30 oh.
oscarpiastri no it's fine i didn't want to be invited
oscarpiastri i totally hate the ocean, it's not like i surf or anything
oscarpiastri looks boring, would've hated to go on a boat
landonorris other than the fact that i lost my flip flop in the ocean, it was fun i guess
user31 good job lando this came off exactly as nonchalant as you hoped king
ynusername HAHA LOSER YOU LOST YOUR SHOE
oscarpiastri I LOST SOMETHING ONCE 😞
user32 close enough, welcome back brocedes
ynusername literally what is the correlation here
user32 idk leave me alone
user33 um so this is actually insane
user34 i screamed so loud my neighbors called the cops because they thought i was being murdered
user35 can you be normal
user36 this might be the first original experience
user35 no, not original, just embarrassing
user37 i want to be excited about this but it feels so sinister
ynusername good, it should be
maxfewtrell never in my 23 years of living could i have expected this (lando messaged me to tell me what he was doing today)
user38 posting a comment is optional
maxfewtrell i have fomo, can i live
user39 lany/n shippers all around the world cheered
user40 oh you different friend!
user41 onto something ❌ on something ✅
user42 and the crowd is... the crowd is leaving??
user43 my crew lets go
user44 "war is over" we all say in unison
oscarpiastri not likely 💀
user23 HELLO OMFHADFSLJ
danielricciardo oh so you can hang out with him in monaco but not with me
ynusername sorry babygirl 😔 i didn't mean to abandon you
danielricciardo ew never fucking mind
maxverstappen1 i live in monaco too! hope this helps
ynusername i knew that already! hope this helps
maxverstappen1 oh.
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ynusername posted to story!
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(caption: he won't leave me alone, this is sick)
17,822 replies
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landonorris posted to story!
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(caption: she's trying to convince me it's cold out... girl no it is not)
24,006 replies
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I AM SOOOOO SORRY THIS TOOK 5 MILLION YEARS TO BE UPDATED!! i am hoping to be more consistent moving forward, but my schedule is a bit of a mess with school. hopefully i'll be able to get some requests fulfilled soon as well though!
most importantly, thank you so much for all the love and support on this fic!! the amount of comments, asks, and dms asking about updates was staggering and it makes me so happy that you all like to so much (: receiving such positive feedback for this fic has honestly rejuvenated my love for writing so much, and i can't express how much the support means to me.
please keep leaving comments and dms with your thoughts, i love reading them <3 hope u enjoyed!
-
𝙩𝙖𝙜 𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩
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