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#and yes I am stoned… leave me be.
oceanlava · 1 year
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being transgender is a superpower. being transgender is total awareness of yourself. being trans is saying fuck you to the systems at large. being trans is the secret to everything. being trans is a form of godhood. being trans is celebrating creation in its rawest form. people are meant to be trans. it is not a mistake, it is not a slip-up, being trans is the highest blessing and form of respect from whatever you believe in. being trans is the epitome of being human.
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oboes-bos-hoes · 1 year
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As important as it is to acknowledge positive male friendships, respectfully, they’re dating, your honour.
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silkentine · 3 months
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Me when they are the sisters ever: 😭😭😭 They came out soooo freaking well. I won’t lie, they took me a thousand years to finish but through the constant support from all of my buds (and my latent bisexuality), we made it 😤
Hopefully you guys know the deal by now: design choices, easter eggs, and (NEW!) closeup shots below the read more. ⬇️
I wanted Ace to have a very down-to-earth vibe and looked at Aussie beach-girls, coastal cowgirls, and vaqueras for reference. (IDK, I’ve just always envisioned Ace as part-Australian🌺 and Mexican 🏴‍☠️) Her clothing choices are mostly natural or utilitarian materials like the painted wooden beads on her top, her woven fabric and leather belts, and her denim jumpsuit. I gave her bikini top a zen-garden kind of feel because I read the first Ace’s Story Novel and I loved how idyllic and peaceful they made Sixis Island sound so I wanted to invoke that in some way.
Speaking of her painted wooden beads, they hang off the back of her top and represent her connection to Sabo and Luffy. They watch her back once she sets sail. She only wears one red glass bead earring because the other one got ripped out of her ear when a child, leaving her earlobe torn (don’t think about it too much 😢). Also, YES! she does wear a hibiscus flower just like Rouge (because I hate you and I want to make you cry, muhwahahahaha).
Also, I really wanted her to have super textured curly hair that licks behind her like flames. I am always considering whether or not a character should have long hair or not because I don’t want it to be a hindrance if they’re in a fight (or if they ARE a fighter with long hair, how to they avoid an enemy making use of that?). Ace is, of course, a Logia-type Devil Fruit User so I think she wouldn’t have trouble with people grabbing it LOL I get the feeling that she doesn’t take very good care of it even though it looks amazing. Like you’d think it would be soft and bouncy just by looking at it but if you ever get the chance to run your fingers through it, it’s a total rat’s nest and there’s sand and food all up in it. She still falls asleep while eating 😂 but she tries her best to only do it around people she can trust (woman moment 😔).
Honestly, her design is not that different from Ace’s canon look. It feels really vital to Ace’s character to have a lot of skin showing. And he’s always hanging all over himself with his hips all cocked like the weight of the world is too much to stand up straight. It is certainly not my OWN preference to make her an absolute smoke show. That’s just the character, okay? (I’m partially lying and the proof is that I turned the emblem on Ace’s hat strap into a sternum tattoo for no other reason than that it is sexy af.)
Here are some closeups of Ace:
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Now for Sabo, I’ve made her very girly. I tried putting her in pants or something more militant but she told me that she’d wear the big poofy sleeves and hiked-up ruffled skirt. I think Sabo has always had a strong grasp on his fashion sense and individual flair and I truly believe that his personal style is one of the major influences for the rest of the Revolutionary Army resulting in the very flashy, queer, steampunk aesthetic (aside from Dragon’s plain-ass cloak). So of course I had to implement her nonconformist look when reimagining her as a woman and dress her up to the nines.
I’ve given her very ornate jewelry that is there to tell a story, even if she herself doesn’t know it. I like to think she picks up stuff from her travels that resonate with her, such as a damaged set of earrings with one stone missing or red cup-shaped shells featuring three nestled pearls. Another accessory that cannot go unmentioned is her dragon claw hat pin that keeps her top hat resting on top of her hair (and is definitely used as a weapon when the situation simply doesn’t call for trusty metal pipe). She also has a veil that obscures her prominent facial scar. I imagine she’s not very keen on the reminder of the incident from her childhood that took away her memories. I also kept her chipped toothed because 1) it’s fucking adorable and 2) is a visual reminder that she no longer aligns herself with the nobility who would have gotten such a thing fixed. She is so poised in almost every outward facet of her life from her dignified role as the Chief of Staff to the elegant materials in her clothing that it can be easy to forget she was also a rough and tumble forest dweller. Every time Koala remembers this, he lets out the biggest sigh.
Her hair is inspired by Gibson Girls and Elizabeth Swann from the first Pirates of the Caribbean movie. I wanted it to be fussy and tidy but fall apart when she’s in moments of distress. For example, when she remembers her sisters, her hair starts to look like Ace’s flaming mane. I’m so in love with her, I think she looks like an adorable little porcelain doll that would fuck you up. I made an effort to keep her eyes a little bit manic. I get lost in her steely black orbs (and also Ace’s warm brown ones, but we’re talking about Sabo rn).
Here are her close-ups:
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Plot notes for this AU:
For this series of character designs, I wanted the expressions and outfits to be aligned with the canon plot but I don’t know if I have the heart to kill fem!Ace in my AU. I’m too attached and ASL has suffered enough!!!!! But Ace’s death is also a major defining moment for Luffy so it feels disingenuous to completely avoid it. Also a huge aspect of Sabo’s character is carrying on Ace’s will and I have so many thoughts about how the Dressrosa Colosseum scene would play out if they were all women. Oh well, I’ll cross that tragic bridge when I get to it. I’m definitely going to draw some Modern AU Girl Piece ASL though. They deserve to hang out with no stakes 😭 They are sisters!!!
Check out the tag “girl piece” on my blog for my other One Piece genderbends! 🥰
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spider-stark · 3 months
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LADY STRONG
Benjicot Blackwood x Velaryon/Strong!Reader
Summary - Stuck in the Riverland's on a marriage tour, you pretend to be Lady Strong when Benjicot Blackwood doesn't recognize you as the Princess of the Seven Kingdoms
Warnings - none except not edited!!
Word Count - 3.1k
!MINORS DNI!
// masterlist // send me your thoughts // comments & reblogs appreciated! //
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As if the prospect of a marriage tour was not horrid enough, your first stop was proving to be positively dreadful.  
You had imagined the lands surrounding the Trident to be beautiful. A lush, verdant landscape—filled with fragrant herbs and bright, blooming flowers, painting the Riverlands in rich, colorful hues. You pictured babbling streams and plush grass, stunning castles and, perhaps, some equally as stunning men.  
What you hadn’t imagined, however, was the weather.  
Even from within the confines of Riverrun—the ancestral castle of House Tully—you still feel the effects of the merciless heat beating down upon the sandstone walls.  
Your handmaids had tried to dress you accordingly, stuffing you into your thinnest—and, consequently, your least regal—gown, in hopes that it might prevent sunstroke. Yet still, even as three of Lord Tully’s own servants try fanning you while you sulk in the dining hall, you feel as though every inch of your body is drenched in sticky sweat.  
“This is miserable,” you groan to Ser Lorent, the Kingsguard who had been assigned to your tour. Flanking your right, you spare the knight a pitiful, sidelong glance. “I believe I would sooner die a spinster than be forced to live in this sweltering purgatory!”  
The servants, haphazardly positioned around the table, remain utterly stone-faced, not letting on if they found your comment about their homelands to be humorous or offensive.  
Ser Lorent merely laughs. “The Riverlands are known for their humid summers, princess.” With a wink, he adds, “If you ever bothered with your studies, you would know this.”  
“I study!”  
“With the blade, perhaps,” Ser Lorent muses, his teal eyes twinkling with lighthearted mockery. “But certainly not with books, princess.  
Rolling your eyes, you slump further into your chair, your body practically melting into the upholstery. “Leave the geography lessons to Jace,” you tell him, waving an idle hand. “After all, he's the heir to the Iron Throne. I am merely the prized broodmare—” focusing on your plate, and the half-eaten lunch upon it, you try swallowing the bitter tang now filling your mouth—“a royal womb to be sold off to the highest bidder.”  
And, at times, you aren’t even sure if that is considered an honest truth… You’ve certainly never felt royal.  
Like your brothers, you were born extraordinarily plain-featured. With no silver hair or lilac eyes, you appear more like a common-born peasant than someone of prized Valyrian stock—and it didn’t help that, unlike your brothers, you had no dragon, either.  
Ser Lorent watches as you absently push a piece of seared cod around your plate, sighing. “That isn’t true, my princess.” His words are tinged with sympathy. “You are being sold to no one. Your mother wishes for you to have a marriage born of love—not duty.”  
“Ah, yes,” stabbing the fish with the prongs of your fork, you bring it to your lips, “which is why I’m being forced to spend my summer meeting with the haughty sons of fat country lords—for love.”  
His tongue clicks with disapproval. “Your mother has given you a choice in selecting your own husband, princess; which is a luxury not granted to many women.”  
Frowning, you pop the piece of fish into your mouth, turning his words over in your head.  
Gods.  
You hate it when he’s right.  
“Fine,” you relent, still chewing. Turning sideways in your chair, you raise your fork to him in a mock threat, “But my earlier statement stands! If I must take a husband, then it certainly won’t be anyone from here—lest I become no more than a puddle of sweat.”  
Ser Lorent cracks a smile at you. “Should you turn to a puddle, princess, then I vow to mop you from the floor.”  
“How valiant of you, Ser Lorent,” you laugh. “I’m unsure of how I might ever repay you for such loyalty.”  
“I’m not sure you have to worry about that, princess—I don’t believe that puddles are much concerned with matters of debt.”  
Turning back to the table, another soft laugh spills from your lips. “I suppose you’re right, Ser.”  
All too soon, however, your amusement begins to fade. A warm breeze blows in through the many open windows lining Riverrun’s dining hall, the stifling air only accentuating the stickiness of your skin.  
Sucking in a deep, heavy breath, you ask, “How long do we have?”  
Ser Lorent doesn’t ask for clarification, knowing almost at once what you were asking him. “We’re expected back in the Great Hall in a little under an hour, princess.”  
You blow the breath out, groaning slightly.  
An hour—that's all the time you had left before you would be forced back upon the dais, expected to once again smile and be cordial as men and boys from all across the Riverlands made their case for your hand.  
How many of them could possibly be left? This morning alone you had met with dozens upon dozens of them, their voices all blurring into a monotonous hum as they spoke of the history of their Houses—if one can consider nonsensical legends from the ancient Age of Heroes as true history, that is.  
Noticing the dreadful pall cast over you, Ser Lorent clamps a comforting hand on your shoulder. “How about a walk before we go back? It might help to clear your head,” he suggests. Then, with a wry grin, “Perhaps you might wish to think back on the men from this morning—see if any of them might make you change your tune about life in the Riverlands.”  
You pin him with a playful scowl. “There’s not a man alive that could change that tune,” you vow. “But you’re right—a walk might be nice.”  
Rising from your seat, the servants around you lower their fans, silently dismissing themselves.  
“Will you be accepting my company on this walk?” Ser Lorent teases—though you know what he’s really asking is: will you be accepting my protection.  
“After this morning, I believe I’ve had enough company for a lifetime.”  
The knight’s brow draws tight, an apprehensive frown beginning to pull at the corners of his lips. You roll your eyes.  
“Oh, don’t worry so much, Ser Lorent. It gives you wrinkles,” you tease. Adjusting the slit running along one side of your dress, you reveal the dagger holstered on your thigh. “I assure you that if any of these Riverlanders dare lay a hand on me, they’ll lose some fingers.”  
Ser Lorent snorts, head shaking. “It’s not you I worry about, princess,” he jokingly admits. “Just stay close by, understand? Your mother will have my head if anything happens to you.”  
“Yes, yes—understood,” you dramatically gripe, already walking past him to the exit.  
“Oh, and princess?” He calls out just as the guards pull the doors open for you to leave. You glance over your shoulder at him, brows lifted. “At least try not to injure anyone.”  
With one last roll of your eyes, bright with mischief, you shout on your way out, “No promises, Ser Lorent!”  
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Wandering through the outer yards of Riverrun, the blistering sun beating down upon your skin, you find yourself overwhelmed by a sudden ache in your chest.  
You miss home. Desperately.  
You miss Dragonstone’s near-constant cover of clouds, forever shielding you from the heat. You miss the cool breeze rolling in off the Blackwater, the air peppering your cheeks with salty kisses.  
But even as you dream of a reprieve from the muggy Riverlands, you can’t help but miss your family—your brothers—most of all.  
Perhaps it is that feeling that led you here, to the training yard, guided by the familiar lull of splintering wood and steel slicing through the air, the sound offering a much-needed remedy to the homesickness twisting in your gut.  
Smaller than the one at Dragonstone, Riverrun’s yard was no more than a cramped stretch of dusty-dirt, lined with old training dummies and archery targets. Mostly encircled by the towering sun-bleached stones of the castles, only a small part of the yard remained open to the sprawling gardens beyond, sectioned off by ornate iron fencing.  
Striding over the open gate, your attention falls upon the lone boy standing in the yard's center.  
As the sunlight beats down overhead, long shadows dance around his feet as he glides through a set of movements—each step calculated, every strike deliberate.  
You step closer, keeping your steps light as you approach. With his back turned to you, you watch as sweat drips down his neck, glistening. It soaks into his tunic, the thin black material clinging to his lean, muscled back.  
He’s talented—you think, studying his form.  
Talent is something you're familiar with—intimately. You were raised around warriors—trained by the Rogue Prince himself. Yet never before had you found yourself so utterly bewitched by a fighter.  
He didn’t move like other boys.  
He wasted no time on the flowery style displayed by so many summer children—the ones who thought of battle as a performance rather than a matter of life or death.  
Instead, he moved with the lethal prowess of an apex predator—his blade cutting through the air with a controlled ferocity that, while lacking the flourish of other warriors, was undeniably impressive.  
Dirt flies as he throws himself into another set of movements—a series of strikes and parries, executing with unbelievable precision. With every twist and pivot, muscles tense and shift beneath his tunic, his body as powerful a weapon as his sword.  
He lunges forward—and wood cracks! as he slashes his blade along the belly of one of the dummies, a move that would have disemboweled a living opponent.  
Cutting through the sudden stillness, you bring your hands up to your chest, filling the yard with a slow clap. Back still turned to you, the boy's spine goes ramrod straight at the unexpected sound.  
“Impressive,” you muse, taking another step towards him. Mere feet remain between the two of you, now. “You move well—better than most, I’d say.”  
The boy spins around to face you, his once elegant movements now blundering as he nearly trips over his own feet. Biting your tongue, you try to hold in a laugh.  
Big, storm-cloud eyes meet your gaze, pinning you in place as he blinks, visibly thrown-off by your presence. “Sorry-” he stammers, out of breath. “I didn’t think anyone else would be coming out here-”  
You lift a hand, cutting him off with a smile. “Oh, no—don’t apologize on my account! I enjoyed the show,” you tell him. “Seems that you have a real talent for swordplay.”  
His cheeks flush, his lightly sun-kissed skin turning a stark crimson. “Thanks.” His laugh is a nervous, awkward thing—endearing, too. He sticks a hand out towards you, the other still limply holding his sword. “Benjicot. Blackwood,” he introduces himself, fumbling over his words, “but you can call me Ben or Benji—or anything, really.”  
You take his hand, biting your lip to mask your amusement. “Pleasure to meet you, Benji.”  
A beat of silence passes before confusion finally tugs at his features, his hand falling back to his side. “Uhm—” another sweet, awkward laugh— “and you are…?”  
Realization dawns on you, leaving your brows to shoot up to your hairline.  
Seven Hells. He doesn't know, does he?
A sudden speechlessness grabs hold of your tongue.  
You suppose you shouldn’t be surprised—after all, you aren't what many expected of a Targaryen princess.
Plain-featured and dressed in thin, common clothes, you imagine you likely appear no different than the servants surrounding you at lunch, fanning you to keep the heat from going to your head.  
Even so, it's rare that you met someone who doesn't know who you are. And, selfishly, after a morning filled with insincere compliments from haughty Lord’s, you like the idea of remaining nameless—titleless—for the first time in your life.  
“Wow—sorry—that was thoughtless of me, wasn’t it?” Tapping a finger to your temple, you laugh. “I’m Mylissa,” you lie, stealing the name of one of your handmaidens. “Mylissa Strong.”  
“Strong?” He echoes, brow furrowing. “Strange—you don’t sound like you’re from the Riverlands. Your accent is—”  
“Southern?”  
Benji nods.  
“Well, I’ve spent the better part of my life in the Crownlands, so I suppose I’ve picked up their accent,” you explain. “I’m here with the princess, actually—as her lady-in-waiting.”  
The mention of the princess—you—turns his skin a pasty white.  
Keeping a tight leash on your curiosity, you try not to sound too intrigued when you ask, “And what about you? Raventree Hall is a decent ride from here, is it not?” On horseback, the ancestral seat of House Blackwood was two days away from Riverrun, if not three. “Are you here to meet with the princess?”  
Benji shifts his weight, leaning from one foot to the other. “Supposed to,” he begins, his words tumbling out, “but I don’t know—I’m not so sure that I’ll go through with it.”  
Your expression falters, disappointment washing over you like a cold wave, combatting the intolerable warmth of the sun.  
“Why not?”  
He shrugs—a timid, shy gesture that feels so unlike the predator you had snuck up on. “There are over a hundred men in there,” he waves an arm to the castle, to the Great Hall within, “all waiting for an opportunity to impress the princess—meanwhile, I can hardly get out a single sentence without choking on my own spit.”  
Your laughter bubbles up involuntarily, a few giggles spilling past your lips. The Blackwood boy shoots you a playful glare from beneath long, dark lashes.  
“Well,” you begin, absentmindedly toeing the dirt between you, “perhaps the princess might find it endearing, don’t you think?”  
Benji scoffs. “Doubtful. I mean, think about it!—she’s a princess!”  
Your eyes widen, glimmering with mock-offense. “And what is that supposed to mean?”  
Once again, that crimson tinge returns to his skin, crawling up his neck, this time.  
“I meant no offense,” he defends himself, mistaking your expression for one of a Lady meaning to defend her princess. “But what could I possibly offer a princess?”  
You tilt your head, pretending to think on his words. “Well, the Blackwoods do have a history of being valiant warriors, do they not? And you seem to be quite skilled yourself,” you say, daring to let your stare drift down to his arms, the short sleeves of his tunic revealing well-muscled, sweat-slick biceps.  
He snorts. “I’m willing to guess that the princess would likely care naught for my skill with a sword.”  
“Then you would guess wrong,” you retort, a faint, teasing smile on your lips. “Many say that the princess herself is quite skilled with a blade—I imagine she would quite like a boy that’s capable of challenging her.”  
Benji’s eyes darken a shade, an unreadable expression crossing his features. “And what about you, Mylissa?”  
The false name catches you off-guard, but you do your best to hide it.  
“What of me?”  
A bit nervous, he asks, “Would you like a boy that can challenge you?”  
Your heart stutters in your chest—skipping several beats as his stare lowers, dipping past your waist and falling upon your thigh. On the dagger sheathed there, no doubt.  
Heat begins to crawl up your neck, hotter even than the sun's blistering rays. “Oh—” You stutter, words lost upon you.  
It’s true that you were used to the attention of men. After all, your morning has been filled with it, and soon enough the rest of your day will be, too.  
But this was different.  
Benji wasn’t giving you attention because you’re a princess, a mere royal womb to strengthen his House’s bloodline. Rather, he was doing it simply because he wanted to—a feeling that was utterly foreign to you.  
Wiping a clammy hand on his sweaty tunic, Benji misreads your silence, taking a half-step back. “Apologies, my Lady—that was too forward and-”  
You don’t let him finish his rambling. Taking a step forward, you close the gap he sought to create between you. “I’ll make you a deal.”  
“A deal?”  
You nod. “As you know, the princess will be in the Great Hall for the rest of the evening, holding court with the other Lord’s who’ve come for her hand. I'd like for you to meet with her.”  
Benji cocks his head, confusion crinkling the corners of his eyes. “I truly mean no disrespect to your princess, my Lady, but I was asking if you might be interested in–”  
“I know what you’re asking, Benji.” You lift one shoulder in a casual shrug. “And after you meet with the princess, if you still wish to inquire about my hand,” you say, placing a palm to your chest, “then I will happily hear you out.”  
In the distance, a bell sounds out—signaling the time, you realize.  
“If you’ll excuse me,” you start, already taking a few small half-steps backwards. “I’m expected inside.”  
Letting his sword drop to the ground, Benji lunges forward to catch your wrist. “So you agree to meet with me after court, then?”  
“If you’re still interested,” you muse, a tinge of anxiety laced through your tone, “then yes.”  
The corners of his lips twitch into a bashful smile. “I give you my word that–”  
You planned to interrupt him. To tell him not to make oaths he wasn’t certain he could keep, knowing that he may very well change his mind about you once he realizes who you are—that you’re not technically a Strong. But, before you can, another voice intervenes.  
“Princess!” Ser Lorent calls out, exasperated, as he walks through the gate. “We must hurry, princess,” he continues, pausing only to give a wary glance at Benji’s hands wrapped around your wrist. “We’re late.”  
Your pulse begins to pound, a surge of adrenaline coursing through your veins at being exposed as a liar by Ser Lorent. 
Benji’s face goes blank—then his eyes go wide, big as saucers as you snag your wrist from his grip.  
“Princess...” He utters, voice laden with disbelief. “Princess?!”  
You can hardly bring yourself to do anything other than grin stupidly at him, nearly stumbling over yourself as you back-up to where Ser Lorent is waiting impatiently.  
“It was lovely meeting you, Benji!”  
You hope he can hear just how genuine your words are.  
“I’ll see you in the Great Hall,” you call out over your shoulder, sparing him one last glance as Ser Lorent guides you to the gate, watching as he blinks in astonishment, still processing the revelation.  
Walking back towards the inner-castle, Ser Lorent glances down at you with a knowing look. “You seem giddy.” There’s a teasing glint to his words that makes you roll your eyes, cheeks flushing. “So,” he continues, his brisk pace never faltering, “does this mean that your statement from lunch no longer stands? That, perhaps, this sweltering purgatory may yet grow on you?”  
You bite your cheek, a permanent grin still etched onto your face.  
“Let’s just say that I’ve decided it’s best to keep my options open, Ser Lorent.”  
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a/n - you may ask yourself: lainie, why would you refer to him as mostly BEN in the last fic and BENJI in this one??
and the answer? I have not ONE clue. my brain is rotting and benji is cute.
anyways, hope you guys enjoy this one! feel like I got to explore more of his personality here. additionally, I need HBO to know that if this boy ends up not being benjicot blackwood then I'm gonna fucking riot
benjicot blackwood tag list - @a-song-for-ages @ghostinvenus
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aethelwyneleigh27 · 2 months
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Villain!Ghost x Pregnant!Wife!Reader
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Synopsis: Your husband wants your company..
A/n: GUYS OMG, I know it's been 1 month and a little more since my last official work. I've been procrastinating on this for so long since I only have less than a week till school again.. Also everyone I love on this app is just disappearing, like @ghost-cyphera just deleted her account 4 days ago and I got the notif but didn't see it in time, I didn't even get to say goodbye. Just wanted to apologize to you guys after being gone for so long as well. Also, another villain!Ghost drabble? 👀
Finding it difficult to walk was one of the least things you've suspected you'd be concerned of upon conceiving, always needing your handmaiden's help in such a mundane task was shameful to say the least but your husband insisted.
If it hadn't been the hand maiden then it would've been him instead, you couldn't keep him from his duties from the kingdom as he carried even yours. Wanting you to turn your attention to the health of the babe growing in you and especially yourself..
"My lady.." you were pulled out of your thoughts by the voice of your handmaiden. You took in a breath from the cool air that blew on your face as you stood by the stone railing..
"Yes, Leticia?" You turned to her..
"The prince consort has requested your company.." Leticia announced, you nod as you removed your hand from the cold stone. You glanced once more to the people of your kingdom, going about their day and life before gently lifting yourself off from leaning on the stone.
Leticia offered you her arm to help you walk more efficiently..
...
"You sent for me..?" You asked your husband, he was sat and signing another set of documents and scrolls. You closed the door, palms gently pushing till you heard it click.
"No, I told them to announce my arrival to you. How dare they exert my wife by giving her false instructions.." he huffed to which you laughed. He wouldn't do anything violent about it, as he so usually does with staff that don't comply but he knew it'd upset you if anything gory were to happen to them.
"I am quite alright, I need to move around too. It's proven to be good for our child." You said, sitting next to the graciously comfortable chair next to his working desk that he had someone make for you.
You felt relief from the pressure previously on your back, hand on the bump of your stomach and with that a sigh came from your lips. Peacefully watching your husband, the sound of the satisfying scratching of the quill on the crisp papers.
You felt his hand grasp yours, he pulled it, lips resting on the back. His affection made your heart beat faster and he felt it, the pad of his index finger on your wrist. The thumping made him chuckle as you smiled and leaned your head on his shoulder.
"You should rest for a while, my love. You'd work yourself to sickness at this point." You kiss his cheek softly. He put his quill down, "If that's my wife wants.." he said.
He wrapped his arm around you, the other hand placed on your baby bump. His thumb gently rubbing, you jolted a bit feeling a strong kick..
It made you groan, how restless the rascal is. Your husband adjusted his hand to feel the next kick.. he'd swear it was a girl, not that he'd care for that sort of thing. He'd kill for them either way, especially for you. He could stare at you all day, swollen with his child.
How glowing you looked wrapped in the finest silk and the gold and jewels in your hair and body clicking upon contact with another piece, he wished he could tell you how utterly speechless you'd leave each man by just walking passed them but to him no word is enough to describe you.
At least he could spend these small intimate moments with just you and you alone, free of the world for even just a few minutes as he needed a break from the work he very much was eager to do to be able to receive praise from his wife..
My CoD Masterlist
Taglist: @wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simping4konig @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @callsignsnowpunisher @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @connorsui @capuccino192 @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @the-second-sage @starryylies @everlastingmoonlightsworld @keiva1000 @iexiam @drewsmusee @konigceo @duck-a-doodle
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ultramantr1gger · 1 year
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funny to me whjen the showa kamen riders do silly shit. like theyre from the 70s and do age accordingly so when i see them singing and dancing its like old man fun pics
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leeloooonfire · 3 months
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Steve Harrington only wears a bra.
Well, not, only, he's also wearing bright orange swim shorts and a cap backward, too.
The top part, however? Hairy man boobs are prettily covered by a black lace bra with a sparkling strass stone in the middle.
Eddie might be a teeny tiny bit drunk (2 beers after months of abstinence and medication does that to a man), but not drunk enought to imagine Steve Harrington in a bra.
'Uh-', he says eloquently and tries not to stare too much at the other man sitting on what must be Buckley's bed. 'Am I interrupting something?'
Steve, face almost as pink as Erica's favourite shoes, opens his mouth to reply, but Robin, sitting crosslegged in front of him, is faster, 'Oh its just you. Close the door, Eds.'
Eddie isn't sure if she means 'close the door and leave, never talk to us about whatever weird kinky little thing we're doing right now' or 'come in, close the door and shut up'. He hesitates for a moment, studying Steve's pretty flushed face and Robin’s wiggling eyebrows before stepping into the room and closing the door behind him.
His hand is still on the door knob when he turns and finds Robin leaning against Steve’s hairy chest, one of her arms behind his back. She's fumbling with something, frustrated noises escape her closed lips while Steve simply sits still - like a statue. An Adonis statue wearing a bra.
'Fuck', Robin groans loudly, her forehead knocking against Steve's clavicle, his hand patting her head in condolence.
'Not to be judgmental', Eddie starts slowly as he leans against the book case right next to the door, 'But what are you guys doing?'
(Eddie thought Robin's a friend of Dorothy, so why is Steve fucking Harrington sitting dolled up in a delicate bra on her bed and they look like they're ready to make out?!)
When both Steve and Robin send him evil twin looks, he holds both his hands up in surrender, 'Like I said, not gonna judge you, whatever floats your boat or whatever, but what, exactly, is it that you're trying to do here?'
'Practice', Robin grumbles against Steve's chest, tugging behind his back again.
Steve grins, a bit lopsided and goofy, 'She's trying to open the bra with one hand.'
'It's just so much easier on myself,' she says, and now that Eddie knows what's happening, he can make out her hand tugging and fumbling with the hooks behind Steve's back.
'Ah,' Eddie says, again, rather eloquently. 'I should probably leave you to it, then.'
Before he can turn and go, however, Steve says, 'I heard that you're pretty good with your hands, Munson. Bet you can get it off me in no time.'
'Pfff- ' Robin makes, rolling her eyes, 'I wouldn't be so sure he's ever had a bra in his hands.'
And while Robin has flocked him as a raging homosexual as it seems, Eddie heard the rumours about him too: fingers dancing over his guitar, rolling the perfect joints, Eddie the freak Munson knows how to work his fingers. he doesn't hate this rumour at all. It's kind of nice - for his ego and all.
Yes, he hasn't opened a bra before, but he's met this hot goth dude in a corset before, and that's basically a bra with dozens of hooks. He is fairly sure he can open it with one hand and without looking. What he probably shouldn't do is coming too close to Steve Harrington, the man he's had a crush on since they survived the Upside Down together. Not with his naked skin and hairy chest and dark brown nipple peaking through the black lace of the undergarment.
But both Robin and Steve stare at him and Eddie doesn't run anymore - a challenge is a challenge.
'No problem,' he says far more confident than he actually feels and steps closer, one knee on the bed before Robin's even all out of the way.
'No looking,' she says as if she's explaining the rules to a game, 'chest to chest or face in his neck, but you can only use one hand and your eyes have to stay either closed or on him. Seriously no peeking.'
She shuffles out the way to make room for Eddie between Steve's long, also very naked, legs and Eddie swallows quietly before leaning closer.
Steve smells like sunscreen and grass, a bit like the pineapple they ate earlier before the kids left, and sweat. He smells devine and before Eddie can think clearly, he presses his face into Steve's neck. He feels Steve shudder when his damp lips accidentally meet his sun kissed skin and Eddie feels like he's going crazy. What is he doing? Why is he doing it? Even the slightest touch sends shockwaves through his body. God, he's gone so bad for Steve Harrington.
'Ready?' Robin asks, apparently unaware of Eddie's dilemma or the way Steve's pulse is fluttering like a hummingbird right against Eddie's nose. 'Go!'
He sneaks his right arm around Steve, who jumps slightly the moment Eddie's fingertips brush against his shoulder blades. To keep him still, Eddie's left hand reaches for Steve's waist almost automatically. He doesn't try to focus too much on the way goosebumps spread under his fingers and the way Steve literally whines into Eddie's ear. His right hand follows the scratchy lace, nails lightly scratching Steve's skin, until he finds the hooks.
Thumb under the fabric and pointer and middle finger pressing against it, he feels the first hook opening after less than a heartbeat. For a moment, Eddie doesn't want to open the other two and therefore lose any reason to be so close to Steve.
Steve, who has his nose pressed against Eddie's hair and hand curled into Eddie's shirt, slightly tugging as if .... Well, as if to ask for permission to take it off. Eddie doesn't even know when he had the time to grab for the shirt in the first place.
Eddie moves his hand and the second hook opens. He turns his face, brings a bit more space between them to look at Steve. His cheeks are scarlet, lips shiney with spit and when he opens his eyes after mere seconds of Eddie staring at him, he can see that Steve's pupils are dilated, eyes dark with want.
The last hook springs free and without turning his eyes away, Eddie gently brushes the strap off Steve's broad shoulder. Steve quietly whimpers and pushes harder against Eddie's shirt as if to tear it off his body.
'Eddie', he whispers, licking his lips and Eddie just wants everything Steve is ready to offer.
'Ohhh okay, I think I'll leave you two alone', he hears the slightly panicked voice of Robin and then a door opening and closing.
And Eddie leans in...
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dark-moonlust · 3 months
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Tentacle Trouble PART 2: Breeding Mate
Pairing: Tentacle monster x human reader
Summary: Carrying your monster mate’s eggs is no simple task. You must be filled with his seed to nurture the eggs and your mate is more than eager to pound you to oblivion and fill you to the brim.
Warnings: minors don't interact, 18+!!!!, explicit tentacle smut, pregnancy kink, triple pen in mouth, pussy and ass, loads of come. Don’t like, don’t read.
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Living with your tentacled monster was easier than you’d expected. The days ever since your mating had become a blur of passionate moments and comforting touches. You were also fully pregnant, your mate’s eggs nestled safely within you. Your belly was round and heavy, making you waddle funnily —or incredibly cutely as your mate often praised. He could look at you like hours, gazing at your features and not get bored.
You couldn’t believe he loved you so much, yet it was all real. Your mate was a beast of the sea, yet he was caring, gentle and satisfied all your desires. You saw past his appearance and felt deeply connected to his heart.
A hand curving over your stomach, you swayed as you kicked the blankets and moved out of your cozy nest. You wore no clothes underneath; it was just you and your mate at the cave you were living together and you were never cold, your caring monster kept you warm and filled at all times.
The cave was silent and lit by the glow of bioluminescent algae on the walls. The gentle sound of the sea came from outside as you waddled through its passages. You’d woken up because your mate wasn’t there to embrace you. You were heavily dependent on him and the feel of his tentacles all around you. Pregnancy hormones drove you crazy daily, but your mate was more than eager to satisfy you in every way.
“Where are you, love?” you called out, a little tense. His absence was unsettling. He rarely left your side.
Right on time, you heard the soft slither of tentacles on stone. Sighing in relief, you rushed to him— as fast as your swollen belly would allow. You met him at the place that you’d redecorated as the living room. Your mate took most of the space, his body round and huge, surrounded by tentacles. His three eyes twinkled and when he saw you, lingering on your swollen breasts and belly. He slithered quickly to your side, tentacles reaching out to support you.
“I’m back, little one.” His voice was a soothing hum in your mind. “Did you miss me?”
“Hmm, I was worried,” you muttered, your lips quivering. Stupid hormones again.
A tentacle cupped your face. "Hush, don’t worry. I am here now. I had to find something special for you.”
Nuzzling into him, you glanced down and noticed the bundle he carried, wrapped in sea leaves. He gave it to you and you unwrapped the leaves to find a selection of fruit, sweets and other human snacks. Your heart swelled. He’d gone to find human food for you and from the sight of it, he’d risked his life.
“You went to find food for me?”
His voice touched your mind. "A friend of mine, a merman, often brings me human snacks from the land. I traded some pearls to get these for you."
Your eyes watered. “You are unbelievably sweet. Thank you.” You reached on your toes, caressing his slimy head. “Thank you so much, baby.”
Your mate didn’t mind to be affectionately called baby by you. On the contrary, you could shear he went more aroused each time you spoke his nickname so sweetly.
Immensely happy, you devoured the fruit and snacks and fortified yourself on the delicious chocolate. Your mate didn’t like human food and was content to have his tentacles all around you, caressing your belly soothingly. When you finished your meal, you sat back against him, a wave of contentment washing over you.
“Satisfied?”
“Hmm…” you smiled up at him, resting your hands atop the tentacles cradling your belly.
“The eggs keep pulsing,” he sensed. “They need to be nurtured.”
“Yes, need you, too…” you whined just as his limbs tucked you to sit close to his massive body, your back against his front. Slimy tentacles spiraled around your ankles, opening you up, baring your slick pussy. Trickles of cum escaped the puffed lips from when he’d fucked you earlier. Your mate feed you his seed in every way possible. The eggs required his essence in your system to grow healthy and strong.
Two more tentacles wrapped around your full tits, the tips of the appendages wetting and flicking your leaking nipples. Another tentacle teased your cunt, the tip rubbing the moist folds before breaching inside. A second one followed, helping spread your pussy so that his monstrous ridged cock could thrust up inside you. Holding you from your arms, your mate lifted you up and down on his shaft, driving deep.
You came with a sweet roar, your pussy seizing around him.
But that was only the beginning.
More slippery limbs slid up your body, placing you on all fours, ass propped into the air. From behind you, your mate’s appendages enfolded your belly and rubbed your poor little clit, sending waves of pleasure through you. A tentacle coaxed your mouth apart and slowly filled your mouth, stuffing you down to your throat. It leaked sweet nutritious essence down your throat.
You breathed steadily from your nose and whimpered when you felt another appendage poking your the tight bud of your ass. It was slightly smaller than his primary tentacle-cock but still twice as thick and long as a human cock. It breached the tight ring of muscle, the mushroom head lodging deep in your guts.
Whines and moans were wrenched from you when he began fucking all your three holes simultaneously. His cock pulled put from your pussy long enough for his other cock to rail your ass, while the tentacle down your throat filled your belly with sweet nutrients. The only sounds in the cave were those of your muffled cries and the lewd squelching of his tentacles as they thrust in and out of your body.
Pleasure heightened again as you started panting, hard for you to breathe with the tentacle thrusting down your throat. Your mate sensed that immediately and freed your mouth, just in time for you to take a deep inhale and let out a loud moan as you climaxed. Whining, sobbing and thrashing, you could only ride your orgasm and surrender to the furious pounding of his cocks claiming you.
Your mate let out a monstrous sound and his relentless thrusting finally stopped. Both cocks plunged as deep at they could go, exploding with a torrent of cum. They spurted and spurted for minutes, filling your holes to overflowing. His seed tricked down your shaking thighs and to prevent any more from spilling out, he lifted you to lie back against him, his cocks plugging his cum inside you.
“Fuckkk…” you muttered, blissfully-spent, eyes glazed. “Baby, I think you overdid it this time.”
You winced at the the amount of cum in your pussy and ass. It was too much and it made your belly swell even further. You felt like you carried a baby elephant.
“I’m sorry, little one. But you know I must keep my seed inside you for a while,” he told you. “It’s good for the eggs.”
You nodded. “Are the eggs alright?”
He hummed, his tentacles tracing abstract patterns across your swollen belly.
“More than alright. Our eggs are growing strong inside you. You did so well, my strong human,” he said in your mind, his voice filled with pride. “You let me fuck your pretty little holes and took my load like a good mate. Beautiful, you’re so beautiful and strong.”
“Love you,” you whispered, just before your eyes shut and you fell asleep.
“And I love you,” he replied, his tentacles weaving over you like a makeshift blanket to keep you warm and protected.
I hope you liked this! Follow and click to get notified when I update. I try to update weekly, sometimes even daily! Any kind of support is appreciated. Reblogging and comments even more so! 🖤
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You know how in the movie, Miles mom gets angry when he says, ‘whatever’ can you do that with latina!wife for Miguel?
𝐘𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐝𝐚𝐲
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Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Wife!Reader
Summary: Miguel hasn't had a proper night's rest in days, and quite frankly you missed him. Too bad he's too swamped with work to notice.
Warnings: None! Just a silly lil fic.
You know those days where you’re just teetering on the edge? It could be for absolutely no reason at all, or maybe a collection of things, all you knew was that it just makes every action you take frustrating.
Well, that was you today.
Granted it wasn’t for no reason. Yesterday, Miguel had promised to come back home for dinner and sleep in his own bed, because for the last few days he had been swamped with work and mission reports. You understood the work he did was important, truly, but you missed him. That, and he was a chronic overworker who would only stop when he collapsed from exhaustion, and you were not going to let it get to that point.
It was getting tiring having to beg him to come back to rest, even for a moment. Spider powers or not, everyone needs a break.
“Uh oh…” you hear Lyla say as you march into the monitoring room, but you continue to press onward.
“Miguel!” you call up to him, but he doesn’t even bother turning around to face you, rummaging through papers and swiping through screens.
“Querida, is there something you need?” he asks nonchalantly like nothing was wrong.
“Yes! There is, actually. What happened to coming home yesterday, hm~?” you say, irritation rising in your voice.
“Oh…is it already the next day?” he asks, still not looking toward you. “I’m sorry, vida mía. I guess I got carried away, I’ll try to be back later alright?” he says, trying to placate you.
“You can’t keep going on like this Miguel, it’s not healthy. One evening of a break won’t hurt. Hell, I’ll even help you out with paperwork, and Lyla can too. So come home tonight, alright? For me, please?”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he says without thinking, only half listening to you.
“Excuse me?” you say, your voice stone cold and immediately Miguel stiffens, slowly turning toward you with a sheepish look on his face.
“Vida mía,” he says, his expression apologetic as his platform begins to lower to the floor. You don’t have the patience to wait for it though, choosing to swing up with your webs and meet him at his level.
“Miguel O'Hara, who do you think you’re talking to?" you say lowly. "I’m not one of your subordinates, I am your wife,” Your hands are planted on your hips as you look up at him annoyedly.
“I know, I know,” he says hurriedly, “I’m sorry. I said it without thinking.”
“Sorry isn’t good enough. We’re going home, now,” you say, grabbing his hand and leaving no room for argument. “Lyla, have Jess take over for the rest of today, alright?”
“Aye, aye, captain!” she says, snickering at the interaction between the two of you.
“Querida, there’s still so much work I have to do,” he says, resisting your pull but you continue to drag you along.
“Should have thought of that before you said ‘whatever’ to me, Miguel,” you say, but sigh. “I’m only trying to look out for you, is that so bad?”
He pauses, studying your worried expression that was because of him. It caused a wave of guilt to wash over him after he disregarded your care for work instead.
“I know…alright, let’s go home sweetheart,” he says, finally relenting as he presses a kiss to your forehead. Immediately you light up, grasping his hand tighter.
“I’ll make your favourite today, and we can take a bath later if you’d like?” you suggest.
“I would love that, tesoro.”
A/N: Thank you for reading!
Taglist: @beiroviski, @scaraza, @blueoorchid, @remuslupinwifee, @phobia0325, @local-mr-frog, @johfaam0, @raweggohan, @honeycriess, @alexenoirex, @chimpkinnuggies, @rqdior, @banana--belle, @notasadgirlipromise, @6billionyearsold, @gods-perfectidiot, @phobia0325, @honeii-puff, @ieatmunson
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harrysfolklore · 7 months
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jacob elordi and yn make valentine's dinner | vogue
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MASTERLIST | MY PATREON
"Hi Vogue, It's Jacob," he greeted the camera, he was wearing a simple white t-shirt and jeans but looked absolutely dreamy, "And today I'm cooking a special Valentine's dinner for my girlfriend YN."
You smiled at him from the side of your kitchen, ready for him to introduce you.
"She's actually here to help me," that was your cue to walk into the frame, he pulled you by the waist and you grabbed the side of his face gently and pecked his lips, "She cannot cook to save her life," he spoke to the camera again, "So my role in the relationship is basically to be her personal chef."
"Okay, cut the sass," you chimed in, "Let's do it, what are we making today?"
"We're making a heart shaped pizza, since It's Valentine's day, then we're making espresso martinis, and a chocolate lava cake to top it off."
"Sounds delicious," you said, "Perks of having Jacob Elordi as your boyfriend, he grabs the stuff from the top shelves for you and he cooks a full course meal."
Jacob winked at you and then to the camera, then the crew stepped in to give you everything you needed for your dish.
"Right so we're gonna start off by making the pizza dough," Jacob began, "We need flour, oil, water, sugar, salt and instant yeast."
"And of course, a good looking sous chef," you teased, batting your eyelashes at the camera.
"That you are," Jacob pecked your cheek, "Now, sous chef, we need two cups,"
"Of this?" you pointed to the flour bowl.
"Yes," he put the ingredient on the mixer, "Two teaspoons of sugar,"
"I'll do that one," you grabbed the small bowl that contained what you thought was the sugar, and Jacob abruptly stopped you.
"No, love, that's the salt."
"Well dammit," you quickly put the bowl down, "Can we cut that part?" you told the crew and they laughed, Jacob just pinched your side affectionately.
"Let me add the ingredients into the mixer and you can help me pour the water, okay?"
Jacob put everything that was needed on the mixer and you slowly poured the water as the machine started working.
"So this is starting to come together now," Jacob spoke to the camera, "Just need it to turn up the heat a little bit," he said playfully and winked at the camera.
"You did not just say that."
"I did just say that," he winked at you now, "Now help me put the oil on."
You did as he said, pouring the oil on the mixture and then covering it with plastic foil.
"We need to put it in the fridge for two hours so it can rise,"
"I feel like Martha Stewart," you put a hand on your hip, "This is like, my dream."
The video showed a time lapse indicating that two hours had passed and it was time to get the dough out of the fridge.
"So Jacob is getting the dough out of the fridge," you explained to the camera, "And we're going to make two separate pizzas to see which one turns out the best."
"Are we actually gonna cut the heart?" Jacob approached you with the bowl, "But it looks so pretty, love."
"Sorry, I'm going to break your heart today on Valentine's day."
"Jesus," Jacob's eyes widened, "So this has been chilling for two hours, and now we have to make it look like a heart.
"Okay, move aside," you moved Jacob's hand away from the dough and he laughed, "This would be easier with a rolling pin but okay."
"So to do the heart shape we need scissors," he sad after carefully folding the dough in half, "Try it, love."
"Like you do with a card, right?" Jacob gave you a confused look, "A Valentine's day card."
"Just don't cut the whole pizza in half," you rolled your eyes at him, "I'm not judging your cooking abilities, love. Just guiding you through the process."
"Just go get the ceramic pizza stone and let's get this in the oven."
"We need to put on the ingredients first, don't we?" Jacob raised his eyebrows
"Oh you're right," you grabbed a bowl with tomato sauce, "So I'm going to cover the whole thing, just leaving space for the crust," you poured the sauce with a spoon, "Am I overdoing this?" you asked your boyfriend.
"No, you like it, like a lot of tomato, don't you?", you nodded, "Just spread it out a little bit," you did as he said, "It's perfect babe, well done."
"We're diving this," you signaled with your hands, "This is your territory and this is mine.
"Okay but let's not cut it, because then that's like cutting the heart and that's sad."
The crew asked you to describe a romantic moment as you decorated your pizza, and Jacob was the first one to speak.
"She is really romantic," he said as he peeled an onion, "The other day when we got back from New York she planted this cute, like herb garden outside on our patio and we had a picnic there, it was lovely."
"One of the most romantic things Jacob has ever done for me was when he surprised me with a spontaneous road trip to a secluded cabin in the mountains," you added, sprinkling shredded mozzarella cheese on your side of the pizza. "He had everything planned out, a cozy fireplace, a bottle of wine, and a clear view of the starlit sky. It was incredibly romantic."
"Yeah, that was a special trip," Jacob smiled at you, his eyes soft at the memory, as he arranged slices of pepperoni on his half of the pizza, "She was freezing so we cuddled a lot, that was nice."
You finished up your pizza and Jacob carefully placed it on the heated oven, then the crew got everything ready to star with your dessert.
"Alright, so we're making the chocolate lava cake," Jacob clasped his hands together, "Do you think you can do it, babe?
"Let's do it!"
You and Jacob followed the recipe for the cake, you helped him pour the eggs and mix the ingredients together, earning compliments from him about your cooking skills improving.
"So now, these," Jacob grabbed the tray with the two small chocolate cakes, "Which YN just poured very perfectly, are going in the oven for about 12 minutes at 450.
You closed the oven and the final thing to prepare for your menu was your drinks, the espresso martini.
"So we're going to make the espresso martini, the virgin espresso martini," Jacob said to the camera, "Because this one is on a non alcohol diet."
"You gotta keep the system healthy!"
Jacob poured all the ingredients into the drink mixer and moved it up and down, his biceps twitching at the movement.
"I'm impressed," you said as he poured down the drink in your glasses, "That was sexy, baby."
"Thanks, glad to know," Jacob winked at you, "Cheers," he handed your glass, you clicked it with his and sipped at the drink, "This is pretty good, let's take it to the table."
You moved to the table, where you pizza and cakes were perfectly placed along with some lit up candles and flowers for decoration.
"This looks amazing," you said as you looked at the food in front of you.
"Looks nice, doesn't it?" Jacob took the seat in front of you, "My side of the pizza looks nicer."
"No," you said with a serious tome but then your eyes softened, "Happy Valentine's day, baby."
"Happy Valentine's day," he smiled fondly at you, "You happy? You like this?"
"Yeah, I love it," you squeezed your hand quickly, "Can we start eating?"
You ate your dinner, bantering about which side of the pizza was better and which one of you had been the better chef, even though there were cameras and crew around, it felt like an intimate moment between the two of you.
"Here, try the dessert," Jacob said once you were done with your pizza, spoon feeding you a bite, "It's good, isn't it?"
"So good, I'm such a chocolate lover," you said, "I feel like I was great help to you in the kitchen, what do you say?"
"Really good help," he took a spoonful of the cake, "Best looking osus chef ever."
"Thank you, I really appreciate that," you squeezed his hand again, "I really tried for you today."
"Yeah, cause usually I make her a drink and she just watches me cook," he told the camera, "She's obsessed with me, can't take her eyes off."
"Cheers babe, I love you," you ignored his comment and raised your drink, "happy Valentine's day,
"Happy Valentine's day,"
"I'm going for it," you said as you rose from your seat, "Why do I always am eager to be the kisser?"
"She just wants to kiss me so bad," he stood from his seat and placed a kiss to your lips, "Love you."
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platinumshawnn · 2 months
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to strangers | benjicot blackwood x fem!bracken reader
a/n: yes i am fully aware i should be writing him as davos out of respect for the accuracy of the show and character but i'm still mourning what could have been. also leave it to me to write a little prequel tying this to my own fic a little bit by writing what this guy was really up to on his "hunting trip" lol. have some poorly written smut anyways, if anyone sees that I accidentally called the bracken’s estate “hedge stone” instead of “stone hedge” no you didn’t shut up it’s been fixed
synopsis: benjicot likes to rile up the women he likes i guess
Content warnings: MDNI — 18+, adult language, mentions of blood, violence, and war; era related sexism, smut (fem p in v sex, unprotected sex, degradation) [not proofread]
Word count: 5.5k words
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you had never been one for conflict — especially not that of drunken councilmen who became red in the face, knocking over cups and irate over matters of politics as they shouted. despite your father’s efforts to maintain diplomacy and restraint during meetings, it almost always ended in a screaming match at the table these days — even your uncle could not bear to sit through them, and often doubled up on the amount he drank just to sit through them, barely able to walk as he stumbled out.
you were almost always met with apologies from your father as he found you outside the doors of the hall, given a squeeze of hand, and ushered to bed. you did not care for politics, but there was no escaping the recent events — it affected everyone, reaching beyond stone hedge’s walls, but your father the most. he appeared to have aged significantly over the past days, eyes exhausted and on edge whenever she greeted him.
but this particular night had been…a lot more than usual. your cousin, aeron, had come back, shaking as he’d returned from a survey of the lands with your brother; having got into another squabble over the boundaries with some blackwood boys who had dared to come too close to their land, in aeron’s words. the whole thing dripped of theatrics — “that filthy…cunt, benjicot”
your head popped up from the handkerchief you were working to embroider, your mother on your right as the pair of you sat in one of the several cabinet rooms that your father had designated for your lessons as a child; having since used it as an escape from the noise. even your mother had been alerted by the commotion as the boys clamored into the hallway, looking out through the door that had been cracked open to provide some airflow in the room. there, your cousin stood, his nose bloody and still dripping as your father summoned the maester while ranting to your uncle, attempting to shush the boy-knight who was on the border of shouting. your interest was only peaked by the name, sitting up and turning your body towards the three men, ceasing what you had been doing and placing the handkerchief in your lap to listen.
your father had made eye contact with you as aeron continued, grabbing him by the shoulder and reaching to close the door before you could hear as he dragged your cousin away. your mother had encouraged you to continue, the look she gave reminding you of proprietary and of your place — with a curt nod, you had returned to your task.
that had been at midday, and since then, there had not yet been a break. you could hear the shouts from your room, and you could picture your father amidst it all, trying to bring order and peace — a task he was successful in every so often, silence falling over the room and quieting to hushed whispers that would only last a short time before the yelling continued.
sometime before midnight, the silence had ended finally, stood at the top of the stairs as the councilmen dispersed; other members of your house trickled out. you had stayed up, waiting to approach your father, in hopes to get some sort of information on the outcome. but the exhaustion was clear on his face, being met by a soft, “on the morrow, not tonight, my dear.”
he had pressed a kiss to your head and brushed past you, receding to his chambers for the night, leaving you at the base of the stairs. as you went to retreat to bed yourself, you heard the cursing mutters of aeron who had finally exited the great hall doors behind you, still seething after several hours — you were relieved at least to find that his nose had since stopped bleeding.
“aeron,” you called out, turning to descend down the four stairs you had climbed just as he stopped in the hallway towards his own chambers. his eyes found you. you approached him, hand reaching out to grab his face between your fingers, turning to assess his face for any additional injuries you may not have noticed earlier in the day. however, much to your relief, he was otherwise unharmed, “you really ought to stop antagonizing those men— you’re going to get yourself killed.” you scolded, sighing and dropping your hand.
aeron winced slightly, more from the reprimand than any lingering pain. “I can’t just let them insult our family, you know that.”
you shook her head, a mix of frustration and concern in your eyes. “I know, aeron, but there’s a difference between defending our honor and looking for trouble. what good will it do if you’re dead?”
He avoided your gaze, jaw clenching. “I just can’t stand the way they look at us, like we’re nothing and like they can do whatever it is they please. Like they own the riverlands. someone has to stand up to them if your father won’t.”
“standing up to them doesn’t mean getting into brawls. use your head, aeron. we need you alive, not battered and bruised,” you said, your tone softening.
aeron had sighed and muttered something unintelligible, only able to make out a ‘yeah’ before he withdrew to his own rooms.
you had tried to sleep — you did. but at some point, the heat, humid and sticky, had made it impossible to; instead, turning and tossing in your bed, growing increasingly frustrated before you stormed from the bed with a huff. the conversation between you and aeron had been stuck in your head, the sight of him bloodied haunting you — how did benjicot look then? was he unscathed and unharmed?
you knew he had always been stronger, a fiercer opponent but you couldn’t help the worry that plagued you.
you had quickly changed as best you could in the dark, without falling over in a way that would alert the guards; pulling your dress on and watching underneath the door as you smoothed out the fabric, doing your best to be silent in opening the door. peaking your head out and checking that both ways were clear, you slipped out and closed the door behind you, walking on your toes as you snuck through the house and out a backdoor that led into the fields.
you did your best to stay low and out of sight as you bolted through the fields towards the boundary stones, trying to remember who would be on surveillance — you couldn’t for the life of you remember, despite your best efforts to eavesdrop on your cousin's conversation earlier.
hell, you weren’t even sure you would see him.
sometimes you did, other times you didn’t — weeks would pass sometimes before you saw him again. sometimes it was hours before you saw him, sat, pulling at grass as you waited, knees to your chest.
today felt like one of those days, as you approached the river, out of sight from any prying eyes and sat by the edge, your eyes straining to see through the dark. the moon did little to penetrate the dense patch of trees. as the hours passed, your head had begun to drop against your knees, dozing off. there would be no way of keeping yourself awake all night, after a long day, opting as a last ditch attempt to awaken your senses by dipping your toes into the stream as you kicked off your shoes.
the water was a nice welcome in the heat, a content sigh leaving your mouth as you kicked your feet; splashing the water upwards. the wait seemed to drag on forever, growing impatient and trying to decide on whether to return home or not.
you’d give him another hour at most. If he didn’t come, then you would go home.
your gaze scanned the river, serene and peaceful as the rushing body of water sloshed around your feet; cool and refreshing. you’d have time.
you stood back from the water and fumbled to strip down to your chemise, discarding the dress to the grass by your shoes before easing down and into the water, letting out a hiss. slowly, wadding into its shallow depths, you moved forward until the water touched your thighs, lapping at your body as you cupped some of the water between your hands and tossed it up in front of you.
“you’re far from home, lady bracken.”
your head whipped toward the sound of a voice from the treeline, water sloshing around your legs as you faced the boy who the voice belonged to. the ends of your skirt had been released in the turn into the water, feet tangling in the soft sand of the river’s floor, just catching yourself from falling into its rapid rush by the luck of the Gods; the ends of the fabric now soaked by the flowing water that swirled around you. there he stood, barely peeking out from the cover of the trees as if that would somehow conceal his identity, hugging close to the trunk of one while he watched you from his shaded spot. there was hardly any way of seeing him in the night, the moon’s light not quite reaching him but his voice -- you would know that voice anywhere.
you stepped forward, halfway across the shallow depths of the river that flowed between the two lands of bracken territory and blackwoods, the cold water just reaching mid-thigh as you looked up at him, “as are you.” you quipped, heart rate rapid as your heart thrummed against your ribs.
despite the limited visibility, you could see his mouth quirk up in a half-smile, his amusement clear as his head tipped to the side while his eyes continued to watch you closely like some sort of prey. the limited sense of vision allowed you the ability to hear as he inhaled through his nose, breathing outwardly before he finally stepped forward to the edge of the water, his hand at the hilt of his dagger on his hip as his eyebrows rose, “and do you always take moonlit strolls through my land?”
you stilled, hands resting at your sides as your fingers dipped into the cool water below you, the cold nipping at your fingertips, “only when called for— the night was too beautiful to resist.” you replied, chin lifted to look up towards where he towered over you, “and what’s your excuse?”
he snorted, boots shifting against the dirt with as he moved to widen his stance, “the same perhaps,” he said, eyes glancing up to the sky above the riverlands that was littered with stars, “or maybe I was hoping to find a curious lady wandering too close to my territory.” he said, his voice a low rumble.
there was nothing threatening about his tone, however, his body language said otherwise — his eyes scanning their surroundings before looking back to your face, his body suggesting that he was on edge. as though he expected bracken men to burst through the trees behind you any minute. you took another languid step forward, closer to enemy territory, the thrill of it never failing to excite you.
“are you suggesting I’m trespassing?” you asked, your words steady as you bordered taunting the man who eyed you.
you could see as he squinted, narrowing his eyes at your words, “just…observing that you’re quite far from where you’re supposed to be at this hour, my lady.”
you hummed, eyebrows raised as the water continued to lap at the fabric of the cream coloured chemise that had been worn underneath the dress of typical bracken colours of yellow and brown having been discarded at the edge of the grass. you could see the moment his eyes lowered to scan down the length of the fabric, disappearing into the water and drifting higher up your thighs, bordering translucent against your skin, slow in dragging his eyes along the length of your body, “but i suppose the river doesn’t care for borders, does it?” he suddenly asked, his eyes returning to meet yours.
your mouth curved upwards, a wry smile on your face as his gaze emboldened you, “no it doesn’t, but neither do I, it seems. I don’t believe the assize said anything about the river.”
benjicot tutted condescendingly at her, smug as his hands shifted over his dagger, “careful, you're starting to sound like your cousin, bracken.” he warned, tone sharp, “do you not ever worry about what might be lurking in the shadows? his words came lighter now, the tension gone from his voice.
you let out a dry laugh, beginning to feel the effects of the frosty water that reached your hips the further you wadded, a cool breeze causing your skin to prickle with goosebumps. you shivered, sucking in a deep breath through clenched teeth, “only when they carry a dagger and a half-smile, I suppose.” you said.
his hands twitched, the grasp at his blade loosening as he seemed to contemplate reaching forward to drag you from the water at the sight of your shivering frame. however, he stopped himself and instead lifted his chin, mouth pressing into a tight smile, “then its a good thing I’m in a benevolent mood tonight.”
your head lowered to look down at the water, using your fingers to skim its surface, “I will take my chances.” you confidently said, lifting your gaze after a moment of pause.
he let out a ‘hmph’ sound, watching as you slowly closed the gap between the two lands to stand directly in front of him, the water shallow once again and only meeting mid-thigh. the now soaked gown did nothing to provide any ounce of modesty, sheer and clinging to your lower half as you stared up at him. your eyes followed his movements as he crouched, bringing him eye-to-eye as an elbow planted against one of his knees, “well, I suggest you be careful, my lady. the night is full of dangers.” he said, his voice low and quiet.
“and so is the day, but I’ve never been one to shy away from either.” you said, voice matching his volume before you stepped forward until you stood against the ledge, your other hand planting in the grass just between his boots as you lifted your right hand toward him, “are you going to help me or shall I call for my men?” you taunted, a grin on your face.
he rolled his eyes, smile broadening as he stood upright and bent to grab your hand, using his strength to pull you up and over the ledge, out of the waters with ease. you were brought to your feet, stood face-to-face with him, his face leaning close to yours as he spoke, “you wouldn’t dare.” he muttered, “how do you plan then, to explain your presence so close to blackwood land at this hour? alone, in a nightgown, with the heir?”
your chest brushed his as you leaned in towards him, “I’ll figure something out— you underestimate me.”
he hummed with a nod, his nose bumping yours in the close proximity. though his mouth did not yet make contact with yours, his breath fanned over lips, his eyes scanning your face, “oh, I’m sure you will. but do you think they will believe you?” he asked, the lazy smirk on his face laced with arrogance, “do you think there won’t be whispers? said whispers, questioning your maidenhead?”
“they’d be foolish to make such accusations against the daughter of amos bracken.” you countered, shoulders squaring with pride.
the man in front of you let out a sardonic chortle, releasing the hilt of his dagger and finding your hip, gripping the fabric of your chemise in his fist, stepping back and forcing you with him, “oh please.” he mocked, his hand dropping from your hip to reach down to your thigh and begin to hoist the soaked fabric upwards towards your waist, leaving you bear to the elements, “if only they could see their lord’s daughter, out parading herself like some whore on blackwood land. What do you think they would say then, hm?”
“‘Tis not their business what I do, nor my father’s.” you muttered.
“oh but i think they might say otherwise. you’re a noblewoman,” he jeered, his knuckles brushing against the bare skin of your belly as his hand dipped below your naval, “a highborn womb.”
you knew benjicot did not share their views -- in the very few occasions he had opened up during your late night escapades, red in the face with anger, rambling on about the audacity of his councilmen as he dressed. he had ranted about what the very outlook had done to his mother, that women were more than for breeding. but he enjoyed knocking you down a peg sometimes, humbling you back down to earth during these moments. he liked to mock the sanctity of your womanhood, even if for a moment, but then he would go back on himself and praise you once all was said and done — praise the very thing he mocked. However, on this particular night, something about his words lit the flames of pure, feminine rage, staring eye to eye with the man you had visited countless times over the past months.
“I am more than that.” you muttered, trying to keep your voice steady.
he let out a melancholic hum, “you think so?”
he spoke to you like you were a child, who lived under the guise of a delusion — like a childish dream that you were expected to grow out of. the tone of his voice, paired by the sudden feeling of his hand between your thighs bred a slew of confusing emotions to spread within your chest; shamed and desperate, humiliated and seething as his fingers found the sensitive bud between folds that were slick with arousal that had you hot with embarrassment, fingers gliding up along your folds as you gritted your teeth, “how dare you—!”
the nature of his words stung when you knew how much he despised when other men looked down on women the way you had grown accustomed to; somehow after he had entrusted you enough to open up to you, he still had the nerve to throw it in your face—
he caught your hand that came up towards his throat, eyebrows raising as if to warn you, a grin on his mouth as his hand between your thighs stilled, “no need to be so hostile, sweet girl.” he said, guiding your hand down to your side as he moved to drive your back towards a tree, that hand coming to hold your chin in the space between his thumb and fingers, “I know you are a brave, resilient woman…” he quietly muttered, face coming close to yours and trapping you between his body and the tree, a knee coming between your thighs.
despite the rage that still burned within you, scorching like a wildfire, the warm contrast of his fingers on cold skin was welcomed; jolting up as his fingers pressed against you, fingers circling the bud and earning a soft sigh of a moan as you reached out to grab him, pulling him closer as though you were trying to crawl underneath his skin and become one. His mouth finally made contact, attaching itself to your throat and placing open-mouthed kisses to the skin, nipping the delicate skin with his teeth as his fingers worked against you.
“my clever, beautiful girl.” he praised, mouth reaching your collarbones.
you belly clenched, another moan elicited by his words as your hands fisted the cloak around his shoulders, his hand moving briefly to tug the fabric of your gown back up and out of his way as it dropped from its place around your hips. benjicot had a way of leaving you breathless and desperate, a flustered mess under his touch, the only man that could draw out the carnal sounds of pleasure; broken sighs and crying out as his middle and ring finger pushed themselves into you.
by the roots of his hair, you brought a hand to the back of his head and tugged him towards your mouth, his lips encapsulating yours in a feverish kiss; all teeth and tongue. you cried out, muffled by his mouth, as his thumb continued the prior pace, rubbing blind shapes into your clit as your mouth dropped open, too distracted by experienced fingers that slipped in and out of you with ease to reciprocate the kiss, “oh—, fuck.”
“yes, just like that,” he encouraged, voice soft. “just relax, my love.”
the weeks of pent up hunger and anticipation for this moment curled within you, settling into your lower belly, thighs attempting to clench around his hand. though you were stopped by the firm, strong thigh that had been planted there to prevent such from happening, his hips pressing into yours.
“ben, please…” you cried out, beginning to become overwhelmed between his mouth that returned to your throat and his hand, his pace increasing.
rather instead, he knelt suddenly, head buried beneath the thin chemise that draped over his head as he leaned into you. his shoulders brushed your thighs as his mouth replaced his thumb’s task, latching to the bundle of nerves and leaving you gasping, gripping his hair as your chest heaved. a low groan vibrated through your core from the man below you, reaching every end and nerve of your body as you struggled to keep up on your feet as your peak washed over you. his arm wrapped up underneath your right thigh, holding you against him and pressing against your hip as if that would somehow ground you as you nearly collapsed against him, your entire body alight as your walls squeezed around his fingers, clenching so tight it could restrict movement.
he was barely any gentler as he reemerged from your skirts, your head slumped back against the tree as he stood to tower over you once more, using the fabric of your gown to hold you up and practically manhandle you up against the tree that scraped your skin with each move. loose strands of hair had freed themselves from the half done up style, hanging in your face as you panted, mouth agape as you looked up at him; lips glistening with the reminisce of you — your cheeks heated with embarrassment, reaching out to touch his cheek.
he was beautiful, especially with you on his lips.
you dropped your hand and pulled him towards you by his hips, using the belt to your advantage to jerk him forward, his own lazy smirk mirrored by your tired smile as your hands fumbled to undo the laces of his pants. he aided in the task, skillful fingers pulling them with ease and shoving his pants down just enough that they sat high on his thighs, freeing his hardened cock from their confinement, your hand instinctively coming down to wrap around the length and stroke him. his lips parted above you, hands coming to cup your face, thumbs brushing your cheeks as his nose nudged yours.
you could have stayed there forever, in that moment — with the sight before you, a flush in his face as he appeared fucked out already, hair in a disarray from your fingers.
he reached across his chest to undo the clasp of his cloak, dropping it from his shoulders; getting rid of the only shield that hid you from any potential prying eyes — if anyone burst through the bushes then, there would be no hiding the act and it would be without any doubt what was happening.
‘parading herself like a whore on Blackwood land’
benjicot would be correct. if your cousins had dared to wander close to the borderlands again, you would be done for. there would be no protecting any ounce of your dignity and modesty at that point — you would be shamed by your entire family, and even worse, your father…he would be beyond furious and nothing less than gutted.
the thought and feeling of sheer shame it brought had you clinging close to the man in front of you, his body easily capable of concealing yours as one hand went above your shoulder to the tree, too blissed out to put an end to this and go home right then as his mouth pressed to yours in a sweet, affectionate kiss. you moaned against his mouth, his hand replacing yours around his cock to glide it up along your slit; gathering the slick as a means to lubricate the head of his cock, that already leaked pre-cum that mingled with your own arousal, the tip red and angry.
you braced against the tree, trying to regain footing, nearly slipping into him. he steadied you with the arm above your shoulder, wrapped around your ribs and forcing your chest against his as he slid into you, earning a gasp, breaths mingling as your own arm wrapped around his shoulders; clutching to him like your life depended on it — and in some ways, it did.
he held you up against the tree, having to shove the fabric of his tunic and doublet high up on his hips out of the way as he thrusted up into yours. each movement of his hips, shallow due to the position, his pelvis brushed against your clit, providing enough stimulation to leave you struggling for air as you fisted his clothing in your hands.
“fuck…” he rasped, lips brushing your own as they parted, each breath from his mouth sucked into your lungs as you relied on him for the strength to stay upright, slumping into him.
you were a jumbled, incoherent series of sounds as any paranoid thought of fearing your cousin's appearance went out the window, all consumed by him. your leg lifted by his hand guiding it by the back of your knee, thigh hooking around his hip and pulling him further, deeper into you and releasing a sob. you felt so full, it physically ached, walls clenching down around him and eliciting a hiss of air from him.
the sound of a branch cracking somewhere in the distance of the bushes caused you to jolt against him, eyes peering over his shoulder, wide and panicked as the thought crossed your mind again just how open you were to being exposed. you had done this time and time again, but never with his own men just several feet from the bush you were hidden among, and never during a war that had everyone on edge. the looming war had your father in particular paranoid, leading to an increase in fleets that surveyed the boundaries of bracken’s land and the thought instilled again, that fear that you could be caught.
as if he sensed your worry, his mouth caught yours in another kiss, forehead pressing to yours, “my love…” he muttered, bringing your attention back to him.
and he was successful, your gaze doing one last scan and straining into the dark before you were faced with his tired, lust-filled face, his cheeks flushed and striking even in the dark. the sweet name swelled your chest with adoration, your breath quick as you let out a moan, spiraling into bliss against him as his hand came between you to once again rub against your clit.
“ben, i can’t— please—“ the sound was weak and feeble, choked out and gasping for air as your body burned.
it was met by deaf ears as he gently shushed you, his mouth grazing yours, cock relentlessly rutting up into you with desperation — seeking for release as your walls fluttered around him. the groan he released was animalistic, deep from within his chest and carnal as you clutched onto him, struggling to keep yourself up against him and pulling him into you; seeking some kind of anchor to keep you grounded as his hand on your clit worked in unfaltering shapes that had you weak.
a final sob of pleasure left you as you clamped down around him, body tense and slumping against his as you released yourself around him. the final plea of his name and your walls were followed by a few sharp, final thrusts as he released his seed into you; fucking it deeper into you with a deep sigh of your name, a hand coming to your throat as he glanced down, his forehead resting against your chin.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
you stepped up onto the riverbank of your family’s side; thighs still aching while benjicot’s hand supported you from behind before he too crawled up behind you, not seeming to care that he was now soaked from his thighs down. He stood back, allowing you a silent moment to wring out your dress of any water as best you could, hands twisting the fabric and letting out a grunt of exertion before letting it drop back down to your feet. You bent to collect your dress, benjicot finally stepped forward to help in your task of redressing, hands smoothing the fabric over your hips and straightening your shoulders with a gaze down, not daring to make eye contact.
you both knew this could have been the last time you saw each other, the dawning realization casting an awkward, tense silence over the two of you as you eyed the fabric of his doublet; making a mental note of its ridges, the pattern of the woven article of clothing. he tensed as you lifted a hand to touch the fabric with your fingers, too intimate a gesture as fingers ran across his chest and up towards his shoulder before stilling there, your palm coming to place over his heart.
“when are you to marry the…” he began to ask, his face screwing up in disgust at the idea as he spat out the name, “Lefford boy.”
you gaze only briefly lifted towards his face when he spoke, a small snort leaving you at his reaction and smiling softly at his antics. The smile dropped after a moment, though, inhaling and sighting out a breath as you straightened out his own clothing with gentle tugs, brushing over the fabrics, “two nights from today.” you quietly replied.
he made a sound of disapproval, his gaze on your face as you finally looked him in the eye again, his hand rising to capture your wrist in his hold. You had heard the whispers as well throughout the halls of stone hedge, trying to picture it as you looked at him, “I hear rumors you’re to be married, too.” you pointed out, his face twitching.
he released your wrist, stepping back and looking towards his feet as he fixed his sleeves, “My father plans to betroth me against my will.” He admitted, his words a grumble as he shook out his arms and looked up at you again.
you nodded, “who? has he said anything of his intentions?”
“some girl.” he admitted, shaking his head with a shrug of his shoulders, cheeks expanding with a sigh, “the lord paramount’s granddaughter, I suppose.”
you smiled, tilting your head as you looked at him, “serra tully, right? that’s her name, yes?”
“unfortunately.” he grumbled in complaint.
“she’s quite beautiful, I hear.”
he shrugged again, letting out another grunt.
“well, you should probably be on your way,” you said, hands folding behind you as he looked across the river, the sun already beginning to come up. “your men will be looking for you soon.”
benjicot nodded, stepping forward and reluctantly reaching out to your waist, fingers gently pressing into your sides as he leaned forward to press a sweet kiss to your mouth, “I will see you soon.” He said as he withdrew from your mouth, face still hovering close.
you raised a hand and pressed it to his cheek, smiling as you looked up at him, “yes. maybe.”
his eyes rolled as you lifted a hand as if to gesture ‘just as I suspected’, looking over you as a sharp whistle sounded from somewhere beyond the trees from his camp, hands dropping from your sides and straightening the belt at his hips; you watched as his fingers went to the dagger at his right hip, removing it from its sheath, much to your confusion. He withdrew it and used his free hand to pull one of yours forward, pressing the blade into your palm and looking at you, “a wedding gift.” He quietly said.
you looked down at the blade, frowning and blinking rapidly a couple of times before looking up at him, mouth opened in a stutter, “benjicot, I- I can’t accept this. you might need-”
“I have plenty back home,” he assured, wrapping your fingers around the handle of it and licking his lips that were then pressed into a line that resembled an amused smile, “have it…in case that Lefford boy ever pisses you off.”
you let out a laugh, a smile coming to his face as your hand dropped from his, the dagger clutched by your side, “very charming of you.”
He chuckled and pressed another quick kiss to your forehead before he brushed past you, hurrying into the river with a splash and sloshing back in the direction he had come from. you watched as he climbed out of the water, entering back out onto blackwood territory and giving one last glance as he retreated back into the trees.
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idkyetxoxo · 1 month
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Aegon Targaryen - Tethering Ties
Summary - Betrothed by the King's decree to repair a fractured royal lineage, neither finds joy in their union. Tensions flare at dinner, resulting in a violent altercation that leaves her injured. Aegon chooses an unconventional way to apologise, his mouth between her legs.
Pairing - Aegon Targaryen x Strong reader
Warnings - Sexual content (oral f!receiving), violence, mild language
Word count - 2485
Masterlist for Aegon • House of the Dragon General Masterlist.
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"Her children are bastards and she is a whore."
The phrase slithered through the hallowed corridors of King's Landing like a serpent, venomous and unrelenting. It clung to my siblings and me like a second skin, an indelible mark of shame etched into our very souls.
I tried to ignore the whispers and stares, but their impact lingered, a heavy burden on my heart. 
My betrothed, Prince Aegon Targaryen, was displeased when he learned of the King's decision. Marrying his firstborn son to his firstborn granddaughter was intended to mend the fragile relationships within our family, but it brought him no joy.
As the carriage rumbled over the cobblestones, the Red Keep loomed ahead, its towering walls a reminder of past glories and present fears. The air was thick with the scent of damp stone. This was not just a homecoming, it was a return to the heart of a nest of vipers.
I accepted the hand of my brother, Jace who looked at me with a pitiful expression, which only deepened my misery. 
"Do not look at me as if I am a wounded pup," I murmured. "I refuse to wallow in despair."
Jace merely shrugged, unable to hide his concern. As I turned, I felt another arm slip into mine. It was my younger brother, Luke, his innocent brown eyes gazing up at me with unwavering trust. His presence was a small comfort.
There was no welcome party awaiting us upon our arrival, an absence that I expected. The grandeur of King's Landing seemed hollow, a silent testament to the tension that permeated the air. 
Instead, we were left to settle into our chambers, the hours dragging by until dinner, where the family would finally convene.
I absentmindedly fingered the pendant around my neck, a dragon, wrought in gold. It was a gift from my mother, a reminder of the legacy I was bound to but today, it felt more like a chain than a symbol of power.
As we entered the dining hall, the atmosphere was thick with unspoken animosity. The long table, laden with lavish dishes, seemed more like a battlefield than a place of familial gathering. 
My betrothed, Aegon, sat beside me, his face a mask of displeasure. Across from us sat my brothers, Jace and Luke.
"Princess," a voice called out, and my head shot up. My eyes turned to my grandsire, the King, who looked withered and worn. "I trust the journey from Dragonstone was well," he continued.
"Yes, Your Grace, the journey was well, tiring but well," I answered, and he smiled at me proudly.
My eyes flicked to my mother, who gave me a reassuring look and a tight-lipped smile. Not a single person in this room was entirely pleased with the arrangement the King had so eagerly requested.
This marriage was supposed to unite our fractured family, but all I could see were the chains it would bind me in. A future of duty, not of choice.
Next, I turned to the Queen, who was looking in my direction but not at me. Her expression was firm as she seemed to be scolding her son in a hushed tone, and he grumbled next to me.
"Princess, I hope you are well," he said, turning to me as his mother looked away. I held back a sigh, clearing my throat before responding. 
"Prince Aegon, it has been quite some time since we've last seen each other," I pointed out, my hand tightening around my chalice as he downed his drink in a single gulp, motioning for it to be refilled.
"Yes, that may have to do with the night your brother maimed mine," he said with a smile as if it were a simple jest.
"You are correct," I said, my grip on the chalice loosening as my confidence returned. "The same night the Queen demanded the eye of my brother in retaliation, the eye of a young boy simply defending himself from heinous accusations you informed your brother of,"
To my surprise, instead of getting angry, Aegon laughed, a loud, boisterous laugh that caught the attention of everyone in the room.
"I am glad to see that the match seems to be faring well," Viserys said, and all I could muster was a polite smile. If only he knew.
"I don't want this," I admitted quietly, feeling his scoff next to me. 
"And you think I do?" he retorted, his tone sharp as I rolled my eyes. 
"All I'm saying is that I am not going to be subdued," I added meeting his gaze head-on. He raised an eyebrow, urging me to continue.
"You may be a prince, but I am a princess," I asserted, my voice steady. "My mother is next in line for the Iron Throne, and if I wish it, I will be after her. I do not plan on being trapped in a castle, producing heirs," I finished, taking a deliberate sip of my drink.
"Oh, my sweet niece," Aegon began. "How you have grown, you do not know the joy it brings me to know my future wife is such a fierce and ambitious lady," he added sincerely.
"I quite appreciate the idea of having such a challenging partner," he whispered the words into my ear, his breath tickling my neck as he pulled away ever so slowly.
Aegon's expression was unreadable, but there was a flicker in his eyes, something that spoke of more than just duty. Was it resentment? Regret? Or something more dangerous? I couldn't tell, and that uncertainty only deepened my unease.
Dinner continued in strained silence, the earlier tension still palpable. Each forced smile and stilted conversation was a reminder of the precarious nature of our situation. 
My mind wandered as time went on.
It didn't take long until dinner had come to an end, and the adults began to retire to their chambers. Only the younger members of the family were left behind, the room now significantly quieter. 
The tension, however, remained.
Aemond, ever the provocateur, fixed his one good eye on Luke, a predatory gleam in his gaze. He raised his goblet with a mocking smile. 
"To the arrangement of my brother Aegon and my niece," he began, his voice dripping with malice. "You have all grown into quite respectable, charming, strong individuals."
My eyes quickly flickered to Jace and Luke, sensing the tension mounting. Jace clenched his jaw, his hand tightening around his goblet, but it was Luke who reacted first.
"What did you say?" Luke's voice trembled with barely contained fury. 
He stood abruptly, knocking his chair back. Aemond's smirk widened, and he rose from his seat, towering over Luke. "You dare deny it?"
In an instant, Luke lunged at Aemond, fists flying. The room erupted into chaos as the two collided, their movements a blur of anger and violence. The sound of fists hitting flesh and furniture crashing to the ground filled the air.
"Enough!" I shouted, trying to intervene, but my voice was drowned out by the tumult.
Jace sprang to his feet, moving to pull Luke off Aemond, but the younger boy was relentless, his fury driving him forward. Aemond fought back with equal ferocity, a cruel smile playing on his lips even as he exchanged blows with Luke.
Before I could react, Aemond's arm swung out wildly, and his fist connected with my face. 
Pain exploded across my cheek, and I stumbled backwards, my vision blurring. Blood trickled from my split lip, and I could taste its metallic tang.
Aegon and Jace reacted simultaneously. Jace leapt at Aemond with a roar, fists flying, while Aegon pulled me back from the fray, his grip firm but gentle. 
"Stay back!" he insisted, his voice tight with anger.
The dining hall descended into utter chaos. Jace and Aemond were locked in a furious struggle, their movements wild and desperate. Aegon kept me shielded behind him, his eyes darting between the brawl.
"Are you alright?" Aegon asked urgently, his hand brushing against my bruised cheek. The anger in his eyes was mixed with worry, a stark contrast to his usual aloof demeanour.
"I'm fine," I managed to reply pushing him away, though my voice shook.
Aegon stepped forward, his presence commanding enough to momentarily halt the fight. 
"Enough!" he roared, grabbing Aemond by the shoulder and pulling him away from Jace.
Aemond struggled against Aegon's grip, but the arrival of the Kingsguard finally brought the brawl to an end. The guards separated the combatants, their stern faces brooking no argument.
"Luke, Jace, let's go," I demanded, grabbing both of their arms. 
I cast one final glance back towards the dining hall, where Aegon was engaged in conversation with Aemond. Aegon looked over at me, and all I could manage was a solemn shake of my head.
Tonight, the fragile peace had shattered, and the consequences were far from over.
The moon hung high in the night sky, casting its silvery glow as I stood in my chamber, tending to the wound on my face with a hot cloth. 
I couldn't stop the flood of conflicting emotions. Anger at Aemond, frustration with my brothers, and a deep, gnawing fear of what this marriage would truly mean. Aegon's unexpected tenderness only added to my confusion.
Just as I was about to press the fabric against my skin, a firm knock echoed through the room. With a resigned sigh, I set aside the cloth and moved to open the door.
To my surprise, Aegon stood before me as I swung the door wide.
"What do you want?" I asked curtly, annoyance evident in my tone, I turned away, expecting him to leave.
Instead, he stepped inside, ignoring my dismissal. 
"I am merely seeing if you are alright," he said, taking the cloth from my hands and guiding me to sit. He dabbed at my injury, his touch surprisingly tender.
Aegon's hand reached out, brushing against my bruised cheek. I flinched, pulling back instinctively. He chuckled softly, but there was no warmth in the sound. 
"Do not pretend to care," I snapped, hating the tremor in my voice. He didn’t retreat, just tilted his head, a smirk playing on his lips.
"Alright," he admitted, his gaze unwavering. "I came to see you. It's been quite some time, hasn't it?"
"What are you really after, Aegon?" I demanded, fixing him with a sceptical glare.
"You've caught me," he replied smoothly, closing the distance between us. "It seems time has only sharpened your wit and beauty," he continued, his hand reaching out to caress my cheek.
"You've grown so beautifully over the years," he murmured, his voice sincere yet unsettling.
"All I wanted," he murmured, his tone laced with suggestive intent, "was to see how you feel, how you'd make me feel."
Without thinking, I reacted, my hand snapping across his face in a sharp slap. The sound echoed in the room, breaking the tense silence like a crack of lightning
He recoiled, a hand flying to his stinging face, while I stood there, a mixture of disbelief and indignation flooding my senses. My own hand flew to cover my mouth, stunned by both his brazenness and shock at my own action.
"Aegon," I murmured, my voice barely audible as he chuckled softly. "I didn't..." The words failed me, hanging in the air between us. 
He tilted his head, his jaw clicking before a slow smile spread across his face.
"Tell me to leave," he said, his voice a mix of challenge and invitation. I wanted to, truly, but the words stuck in my throat. 
"Tell me to stop, and I'll stop," he continued, taking another step closer, his gaze unwavering as it searched my face for any sign of resistance.
There was none.
"Okay," he murmured, his fingers threading gently through my hair. He loomed over me, a commanding presence as I sat in my chair.
Suddenly, he knelt before me, his hands hiking up my nightgown with deliberate slowness, his eyes never leaving mine.
"Tell me to stop," he repeated, his voice low and insistent. 
I shook my head, a barely audible "no" escaping my lips. His smirk deepened, a triumphant glint in his eyes.
His face disappeared between my legs, and he began trailing small, wet kisses along my inner thighs. The sensation sent shivers through me, making me squirm in my seat. I bit my lip, a soft moan escaping as his mouth moved closer to where I wanted him most.
"Please," I whispered, my voice trembling with a mix of anticipation and need. "Don't stop."
Encouraged by my words, Aegon intensified his efforts. He started by kissing the sensitive skin at the crease of my thigh, his lips soft and warm. His tongue flicked out, teasing me with light, fluttering touches. 
He took his time, exploring the area with a deliberate, languid pace, savouring every reaction he elicited from me. Each touch sent waves of pleasure coursing through my body, making me arch towards him, seeking more.
He moved closer, his breath hot against my skin, and then his mouth was on me. His tongue parted my folds, moving in slow, sensual circles around my clit. He alternated between gentle, teasing flicks and firm, insistent strokes, driving me wild with desire. 
I gasped, my hands flying to his head, my fingers tangling in his hair as I held him close, urging him on.
He was relentless, his mouth working skillfully, driving me to the edge again and again. My breaths came in ragged gasps as he sucked lightly, then harder, his tongue darting out to tease and tantalize. 
The intensity of the sensations built rapidly, a tight coil of pleasure winding inside me, threatening to snap at any moment.
"Aegon," I moaned, my voice breaking as I teetered on the brink. 
He responded with a deep, satisfied hum, the vibration sending a jolt of ecstasy through me. His lips and tongue moved faster, more insistently, pushing me closer and closer to the edge.
With a final, shuddering gasp, I fell over the edge, my body convulsing in pure ecstasy. He didn't stop, his tongue continuing its dance, drawing out my pleasure until I was utterly spent, collapsing back into the chair, breathless and trembling.
Aegon pulled away slowly, his eyes meeting mine with a smug, satisfied look. 
"Consider that an apology," he said, his voice a seductive whisper.
I nodded, unable to form words, my mind still reeling from the intensity of what had just transpired. His mouth was glistening with my release, and he licked his lips with a self-satisfied smirk.
With a final, lingering gaze, Aegon stood up, straightening his clothes with unhurried confidence. He turned and made his way to the door, each step deliberate, leaving me in a haze of post-orgasmic bliss.
I watched him leave, my body still thrumming with the aftermath of his touch. As the door closed behind him, I let out a long, shaky breath, trying to collect myself. My heart was still racing, my skin flushed with the memory of his mouth on me.
Leaning back in the chair, I closed my eyes, a slow smile spreading across my lips.
A/n - Aegon's idea of a "warm welcome" involves more than just a friendly handshake, he's just really into making an impression x
939 notes · View notes
mysteryshoptls · 13 days
Text
SSR Fellow Honest - Playful Dress Vignette
"My stars, a grave insult!"
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[Scalding Sands – Silk City]
Fellow: Now, ladies and gentlemen!
Fellow: What you are about to see here is a one-of-a-kind wonder.
Fellow: This is truly a genuinely invaluable show you are about to witness.
[rabble, rabble]
Fellow: Nice, them people're finally startin' to gather…!
Fellow: If you're interested in what I have to show, please, drop a few madol in this can over here. Any amount is fine~!
Fellow: And now, feast your eyes…
Fellow: On this… A one-of-a-kind puppet that can walk on its own without strings!
Fellow: What do you think, Mister? Madam? Doesn't it look so life-like? Amazing, is it not!?
Fellow: This exquisite beastman doll is the only one of its kind.
Fellow: You all are fortunate indeed to see such a fantastical sight. If your interest was piqued, I implore you to leave a token of appreciation…
[rabble, rabble]
Fellow: …Eh? It's not a puppet? A normal living being?
Fellow: HOW RUDE! WHAT EVIDENCE HAVE YOU FOR YOUR ACCUSATION!?
Fellow: Please, look carefully. It might be able to move without strings, but even if I poke or tickle it, it won't even cry out or laugh.
Fellow: It is a beautifully crafted puppet. Yes, that's right, there can be no question.
[Gidel nods]
Fellow: Ah, stop, Gidel!
Fellow: …It moved? Oh no, it must have just been a trick of the eye.
Fellow: Or, are you perhaps trying to insinuate that I, Fellow Honest, am a liar?
Fellow: You didn't mean it…? Ahhh, oh, but you've hurt my feelings so~!
Fellow: I've been known as Honest John, a man of integrity, pure and innocent, and yet you would call me a liar…
Fellow: I NEVER THOUGHT I WOULD SUFFER SUCH A DAY! MY STARS, A GRAVE INSULT!
Fellow: Hey now, Mister. Since you've damaged my pride like this, feels like you should provide me with a show of good faith and…
Gidel: [sneeze]
Fellow: AH!!
Fellow: U-Uhh… Ladies and gentlemen, I… Hm? You want your money and time back? …No need to get so angry… Hahaha…
Fellow: …Crap.
Fellow: RUN, GIDEL!!
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Fellow: Haah… Pant, pant… Did we lose them?
Fellow: …YOU NITWIT! WHY DID YOU HAVE TO CHOOSE RIGHT THEN TO SNEEZE!?
Fellow: Just a little longer and we woulda gotten something extra on top of their spectator fees!
Gidel: …
Fellow: Ugh, whatever. ...All we got to show for that in the end was just a little bit of spare change…
Fellow: …And whatever small bits and bobs of jewelry they had on them.
Fellow: I stealthily swiped them with my magic while those idiots were all focused on you, but there's not much here. Shame.
Fellow: This dump ain't worth staying in. Time to move on, Gidel! Fwahaha!
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[Fairest City – Crystal Galleria]
Fellow: Look carefully, fair people! What I have here is a magestone. However, this is no ordinary magestone.
Fellow: The date: 1000 years ago; the place: the depths leagues below the Coral Sea. This magestone was said to be sought even by the Great Seven!
Fellow: It may look like an ordinary pebble. So, what makes this an extraordinary find? Once you hear what I have to say, you'll never recover from the shock!
Fellow: Listen and be amazed! This is a miraculous stone where whosoever holds it becomes capable of using magic!
Gidel: ! [honks horn]
Fellow: For you, ladies and gentlemen, I risked life and limb searching high and low for this in the most secluded southern regions.
Fellow: There is only one of these gemstones in existence. We'll start the bidding at 50,000 madol (500 Thaumarks)! Come, come, all who are interested, please raise up a hand!
[silence]
Fellow: …Huh, no one wants to raise a hand? What, do I have before me a gaggle of broke spectators?
Fellow: Heh, gutless, all of you. Ah, but damn it all! Is there not a single one among you with the courage to reach out and grasp the miracle laid out before you!?
Fellow: With icy demeanors like that, even my fleas will laugh at me.
Fellow: …I'm sure you all are simply thinking there's no way you could trust vagabonds like us, isn't that right?
Fellow: You think I'm selling you a fake? You think you'll be wasting your money?
Fellow: Aah, that's no good, my dear fellows! If you mistrust me so fervently, it's not as fun...
Fellow: Don't worry. If you believe in what I tell you, there's nothing for you to be afraid of.
Fellow: COME ON TO THE THEATER!
Fellow: LIFE IS FUN
Fellow: …Ah, there we go, that was quick. 80,000 madol from the gent over there! And 100,000 madol from the one over here!
Fellow: A good call, everyone! With such wise decision-making skills, you all have a future scholar inside you!
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Fellow: Fwahahaha! Look at 'em idiots believing at whatever stupid story I throw their way!
Fellow: A magestone that'll give you the ability to use magic~? If something like that really existed, I'd've used it myself.
Fellow: Even the guys who were the most skeptical leapt at the chance once I used my Unique Magic. I sure enjoy pulling the wool over idiots who try to look down on me.
Fellow: Hm, let's see how much we earned today…
Fellow: Two, four, six, eight… Oho, not a bad haul. Look, Gidel, we'll be feasting tonight!
[Gidel hops happily]
Fellow: Word's probably got around by now, especially after I raked in this much. This might be the end of the line for our earnings here…
Gidel: …
Fellow: What? You want to head south this time?
Fellow: Not a bad idea. How 'bout we target vacationers at them fancy resorts?
Fellow: Let's see if we can kindly crash their little enjoyable vacations.
Fellow: …Yeah, that's perfect. You're a genius, Gidel. This time, we'll be the fancy, rich folk out on vacation.
Fellow: We go where we want, when we want. We have nothing and no one tying us down.
Fellow: That's the least we deserve as free-spirited folk!
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[Sunset Savanna – Sunrise City]
Fellow: EEEEP~~! I PROMISE, I WON'T DO ANYTHING BAD ANYMORE, I PROMISE!
Fellow: HELP~~~!
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[Sunset Savanna – Sunrise City]
Fellow: SHIT! THAT MASSIVE CHEAPSKATE!
Fellow: They were carrying around a crazy fat wallet. They could've spared even a little bit and nothing woulda hurt their bottom line.
Fellow: Yet they caused a fuss just from me trying to swipe a few thousand madol… Ouuuch, it's still throbbing where they hit me.
[stomachs gurgle]
Fellow: Man, I'm starving. It's gonna suck to go another night without dinner.
Fellow: Ain't there something we can find to eat…?
[Gidel starts to drift away]
Fellow: …Hey, wait, Gidel! Don't open that can!
Fellow: Geez… Don'tcha see what it says right here? It's got OIL inside. You can't eat it, even if you open it.
Fellow: You do the same thing every time you're hungry. I've taught you dozens of times, can't you read what it says?
Gidel: …
Fellow: C'mon, squat here a little. I'll draw it out on the ground, so don't forget this time, 'kay?
Fellow: O is for Orange! It looks round and tasty, don't it?
Fellow: I is for Ice Cream! That thin, ice popsicle was pretty tasty the other day, wasn't it?
Fellow: L is for laugh! Don't it look like a smile when you look at it on it's side?
Fellow: …Why is L the only thing that's not food? I couldn't think of anything, so sue me.
Fellow: There's only so much I can teach you, too.
Fellow: Tch. If I had been able to go to school… By now I woulda been more…
[Gidel pats Fellow]
Gidel: …
Fellow: What? We don't need school to fill our bellies?
Fellow: Sigh, oh, Gidel. You know, you're…
Fellow: TOTALLY RIGHT!!
Fellow: That's right, we're living just fine even without going to school.
Fellow: Learning whatever with books and pencils is utter nonsense.
Fellow: We'll just clean out those suckers that went though their oh so lovely education, and just live a life that's even fuller.
Gidel: !
Fellow: That's right, leave it to me! Follow me, kid, and one day, you'll be a grand showstopper too.
Fellow: We'll get some halfwit students to dance for us on a stage for our own amusement!
Fellow: Now… What's more important right now is figuring out what we're going to eat tonight. I'll try to find something, so you start a fire.
Fellow: Just throw whatever you find into the fire, like wooden crates, or posters or… Hm?
Fellow: This job posting here… Oh, well, well!
Fellow: Look here, Gidel, That one prick is looking to hire someone. And this time, it's at an amusement park!
Fellow: I don't know what they're planning, but… Last time we did work for 'em, we made a killing.
Fellow: I can't stand how he looks down on us, but there's a lot more to gain out of it…
Fellow: Why don't we just go hear them out, Gidel? If we don't like it, we can just bail.
Fellow: We live only for today, never thinking about what tomorrow might bring. We do whatever work keeps our lives free and fun. 'Cause we can go and do whatever we want.
[Gidel nods, Fellow whistles as they go off]
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Requested by @sakurakudo.
446 notes · View notes
onlyangel4 · 29 days
Note
Hi can i request an smau with just met to love at first sight (maybe summertime fling) with lando based on Wherever u r by umi and V 🥹 happy ending!!
wherever u r. ln4. smau.
lando norris x actress!reader
lando always thought that love at first sight was some cliche created by the movies, something not applicable with real life. but then he met you
faceclaim: madelyn cline
y/ninsta posted a story
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written: emergency leg shave in a hotel sink before going out in monaco that i definitely do not belong at, wish me luck.
y/bff replied to your story: i can't believe you are going to an event alone, your confidence baffles me
y/ninsta: if it makes you feel better i said yes when i was drunk and now that i'm stone cold sober i am shitting my pants
y/ninsta posted a story
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written: two hours later and i am ready
y/nsightings posted a story
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written: y/n spotted outside a club in monaco, there is a massive celebrity event there tonight she told a fan that her plus one dropped out last minute so she is attending alone and is shitting herself, sounds like our y/n
f1updates
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liked by user1, user2, user3 and 54,683 others
f1updates: lando, charles and alex, daniel and heidi have all been spotted outside the same club in monaco. there is an exclusive invite only event taking place. several celebrities have already been spotted entering the club including zendaya, yn l/n, tate mcrae and the kid laroi
view all 7,293 comments
user1: i would sell a kidney to get inside that club
user2: omg this is the event y/n was shaving her legs for
user3: she is so real for that if i knew that i was going to be in a room with f1 drivers i would shave EVERYTHING
user4: the summer break just started and they are already meeting up at a party they are all obsessed with each other
y/nupdates posted a story
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written: y/n spotted leaving the monaco party with an unknown man
y/nfan
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liked by user5, user6, user7 and 34,855 others
y/nfan: guys! so my boyfriend does a lot of work behind the scenes in film and tv so we got invited to this event in monaco. and i spotted y/n standing at the back of the party not really interracting with anyone because she didn't know anyone so i went up to her told her that i was a massive fan and she spent a lot of the night with us. we were dancing and watching lando norris' dj set when he saw her and goes "holy shit that is y/n y/ln shit you are hotter in person" and when his dj set was done he ran off the stage and over to us and we were about to take a selfie so i got this gem. honestly the best night ever.
view all 592 comments
user7: could that be who y/n was spotted leaving with
user5: omg that is such a lando thing to do
user6: i would not be mad at this couple
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landonorris posted a private story
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charlesleclerc replied to your story: alex is so mad that she didn't get the chance to meet y/n last night and you guys are just hanging
landonorris: man we are not just hanging, she is like actually perfect
charlesleclerc: oh dear are you what the kids call down bad
landonorris: i will forever hate alex for teaching you that
mclaren: so if you fancied inviting your new "friend" to the dutch gp no one would be mad, especially if she wanted to take part in media day
landonorris: you never miss a trick admin, i'll talk to her
y/ninsta posted a story
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written: beach day
y/ninsta
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liked by landonorris, sabrinacarpenter, alexandrasaintmleux and 1,384,735 others
y/ninsta: monaco trip dump
view all 23,452 comments
sabrinacarpenter: can't wait for you to be back in la
y/ninsta: girl i have so much shit to tell you
alexandrasaintmleux: meeting you was a dream come true, can't wait until we get to hang out again
y/ninsta: love you so much, will have to visit again soon
landonorris: i made the cut !
y/ninsta: that night was too memorable to not include
user8: y/n what do you mean
user9: lando norris wtf is this crossover episode
user10: didn't she go on holiday alone, who took all these pictures
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y/ninsta posted a story
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written: first time on a private jet wtf never flying commercial ever again
landonorris posted a story
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written: and we arrived, so ready for the next part of the season
charlesleclerc replied to your story: if "we" is who i think it is alex is going to lose her mind
landonorris: tell alex her job is to make sure y/n doesn't get lost in the paddock
f1celebs posted a story
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written: actress y/n y/ln has arrived for media day here in the netherlands
y/ninsta posted a story
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written: exciting things coming
mclaren posted a story tagging landonorris and y/ninsta
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written: lando took actress y/n y/ln on a hot lap, click the link here to watch the whole thing
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landonorris
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liked by y/ninsta, alexandrasaintmleux, mclaren and 1,453,621 others
tagged: y/ninsta
landonorris: bring your girlfriend to work day
view all 78,934 comments
y/ninsta: i think you mean "almost kill your girlfriend at work day"
landonorris: babe i was actually going slow
alexandrasaintmleux: no you brought MY girlfriend to work
landonorris: well no...
mclaren: next time we will put y/n behind the wheel
y/ninsta: omg really !
landonorris: that is an awful ideal
user10: he has just beaten the norizz allegations by pulling one of the hottest women in hollywood omg way to prove us wrong
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470 notes · View notes
bucknastysbabe · 3 months
Note
I just read all your hotd posts and let me tell you I am OBSESSED!
Wanted to ask if you could potentially write something for cockwarming with Jace please? Maybe not as an modern au but with actual prince Jahaerys Valeryon?
If not that’s totally fine but I would go CRAZY if you would! Absolutely love your work
YES I CAN- I LOVE SOME CUNTY JACAERYS HES PERFEXT AND HUNG. Sorry for the wait hope you like❤️❤️❤️❤️
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Dreary - Jace Velaryon x Bar Emmon!Reader
Rating: Explicit
Tags: Fluffy fluff, sweet baby boy jace, who has a horse cock, set around 2x02, intimacy hehe, cock warming, Baela is a bad bitch she ALLOWS jace to have his little swordfish gf, rip luke ily baby, anyways pnv!sex, some angst, PREP, also I just know the vibes at dragonstone are rancid I would be pissed
Taglist: @aemondfairy @aemonds-holy-milk @arcielee @elaratyrell @jamespotterismydaddy @lovelykhaleesiii @peachysunrize @starogeorgina @towriteloveontheirarms @zaldritzosrose @simp-aholic @jacevelaryonswife (I just added you bc jace wife)
It was a dreary day on Dragonstone. Which was more often than not. Chilly, fierce winds blowing across the Gullet into the Blackwater. You knew how harsh these winds and storms could be, being born Bar Emmon of Sharp Point.
Something was stagnant around the ancient keep of Dragonstone. Perhaps it was the war beginning to ramp up, the continued grief of Prince Lucerys’ death. Going outdoors was a luxury on the volcanic island, anything to escape the mounting emotions within.
Baela was deep within the keep with Queen Rhaenyra. You were a lady-in-waiting of Princess Baela, but she oft preferred her independence or family. The Targaryen dismissed you to ‘find some rest’.
Walking aimlessly around the fused Valyrian stone, hand dragging upon the cold wall, you entered the library. The smell of books and the usual brimstone filled your nose. Haggard gargoyles and wyverns decorated the walls. A small fire crackled in the fireplace, that in the shape of a dragon’s maw. You’d be lying if you said this place wasn’t strange.
Peering among the old tomes and stacked scrolls, you noticed a familiar tousled head sitting in front of the fire. The Prince Jacaerys, the betrothed of Baela. Even if they seemed better friends than to be married as of late. Baela confessed to you late at night that she didn’t want to fall for him during a time of war.
You’d taken to the Prince meanwhile. Guilt didn’t pool in your gut when the Princess didn’t seem to care. Baela knew about your trysts and caught you kissing him in an alcove. Your lips quirked up at the memory— the gorgeous Princess merely laughed, “I was wondering if you had it in you, Jace.”
Coming close to him, you paused. Jace had been struggling as of late. He was brooding and ridden with grief over Luke. You nervously fingered at your dark blue dress, debating if you should leave him be. He was taking on more of a role in the escalating war.
“My Prince,” came your softened call.
He straightened up, turning to face you over a shoulder. Jace hummed, “Lady Bar Emmon. Are you finding yourself stifled again?” He turned further to get a look at you, brown eyes softening. He looked handsome in his black tunic, fine red dragons woven upon the sleeves.
“Quite stifling today. Winter is coming.”
He laughed softly at that, beckoning you over.
You padded to the chair adjacent, Jacaerys familiar arms pulling you back into his lap. You bit back a yelp, looking at him in shock. His full lips curled up a bit as he murmured, “Winter is coming. I saw it firsthand at the Wall. The Stark in the North himself told me all about it.”
You adjusted to curl more to the side, gently petting his curls, careful not to pull. “That sounds…frightful actually,” came your admittance. Jace looked amused as he replied, “Lord Cregan, I liked him, but he was intense. I do prefer the South, Vermax does. He’s likely all snug in his nest.”
The Dragonmont. You wouldn’t mind a warm nest for a minute. Albeit not at Dragon levels.
You laughed softly, “What about the Eyrie? I suppose it was nicer flying up the Mountains of the Moon. I’ve heard it’s the most beautiful of the Castles.”
Jace’s dark eyes sparkled a little as he teased, “Not as beautiful as Sharp Point my lady.”
You batted his shoulder with a scoff and a frown, “Very funny, a big watch tower and old fortifications. Tell me about the Eyrie!”
He chuckled softly, a hand coming up to cradle your neck, his other arm securing your waist. Jacaerys hummed, “Very well, the home of Lady Jeyne was magnificent. All white marble with blue veins. Seven slim towers, no stables, no smithy’s, but a large granary. You can hear Alyssa’s tears, it’s very soothing.”
You looked on in awe as you imagined the painting come to life with his words. Jace continued as he nuzzled your neck, “Mm- just as gorgeous and crisp on the inside, I slept quite well, and got to see the infamous moon door and sky cells. Very Andal castle, don’t know how they did it.”
You gripped his hair as his plush lips began to press against your neck. “Did Vermax like it?” You asked in a shaky voice. He laughed against your sensitive skin, “Of course, scaring the tribes and eating their goats.” Jacaerys pressed one more kiss before pulling back, his ringed hand cupping your cheek.
“I’m sorry I’ve been…distanced,” he murmured, those damn dark eyes and long lashes piercing your heart. Shushing the Prince you shook your head, firmly stating, “You have been grieving. We all grieve, especially for you and your family. For him.”
You didn’t want to speak his name out loud, the lingering implication made sweet Jace blink and look away. Thumbing away his stray tear you murmured, “I wish I could take that pain from you.” He looked back, croaking as his arms engulfed you.
“I missed you so much.”
You sighed the words back, realigning your hips to face his, straddling the prince. Cupping his cheek once again you closed into his mouth, gentle at first. It felt like years while he was gone. Jacaerys grabbed your hips, pulling you flush as he kissed back, full lips soft and careful.
His length throbbed against your thigh as the kisses deepened, Jace’s hands wandering from your ass to your waist, greedily grabbing any flesh. You moaned into his mouth, Jace filling the space with his tongue, sliding it against your own. The brunette moaned, “Gods I missed you. More than just this.”
You pressed your forehead to him, panting, “I missed you too, love. More than this, as much as I enjoy it too.”
He laughed, nibbling at the hollow of your throat, hands sliding up your skirts to reveal your stockings and bare cunt. Jacaerys groaned again, his cock twitching. He mumbled, “Need to get you ready for me again angel.” You nodded, weakly nodding.
Jacaerys’ cock could easily make you bleed everywhere, especially after months apart. He resumed his attention to your neck, thick fingers sliding down to drift across your slick folds and opening. He teased at your clit, drawing a gasp.
You grabbed his hair and pulled him back, kissing him hard as one finger slid into your cunt, pumping just so before quickly adding another. Jace breathed against your twitching lips, “You’re eager.” He had that cocky lopsided smile, eyes hazy.
He pumped his fingers deeper, curling them as you gasped, “I- ah! Could say the same.” You felt his cock straining his breeches, rubbing against heated flesh. Jace moaned again, fingers stretching and scissoring, adding his third finger.
You mewled a little at the pinch, tucking your face into his warm neck. The prince cooed and drug the heel of his palm against your clit, the other hand rubbing your trembling back in slow circles. His voice was a near whisper as he praised, “You’re alright my love, you’re doing so good, gonna feel so good.”
His pinky slipped in your slippery, stretched cunt now, keeping you open as he eased the four digits in and out as you whimpered, Jacaerys kissing your lips and cheeks, shushing you. He adjusted and curled upwards again, dragging roughly against your sweet spot.
You cried out in the library, Jace using his off hand to pull down your dress, suckling and nibbling at your tits as he spread you impossibly open. He sealed his mouth over your nipple, flicking his tongue, playfully humming.
The discomfort was edging into pleasure quickly as Jacaerys worked your body. Your whimpering had turned to panting, then whining in ecstasy as he stuffed you with his sinful fingers, those pretty swollen lips around your tit. You couldn’t help but shiver and grab his hair, muscles tensing up as you moaned his name.
He groaned, kissing his way across the valley of your tits to latch onto the other, his ever-wandering hand giving your now neglected teat a playful squeeze. His fingers were only moving quicker as your cunt practically drooled all over his hand, the lurid squelching loud. You blushed at the sound, heaving and shivering once more.
He swiped your clit one good time, sending you over the edge with a muffled cry, gushing and spasming from head to toe. He pulled off your nipple to watch in awe, murmuring, “My pretty girl.”
You shook through the remnants of the orgasm, cunt twitchy and sensitive even after Jacaerys eased his fingers out. He was undoing his breeches now, moaning under his breath as you watched him pull out his flushed cock, slathering his wet fingers all over the organ.
The sight drew out a low mewl. Jace’s pretty cock was a sight to be seen. He was blessed by the Father, to say the least. Abnormally large yet otherworldly. Dragon cock or whatever they called it in jest.
You lifted your tired hips, the brunette whimpering a little as he slicked himself up further against you, gasping as he swirled the blunt head around your entrance. Jace moaned, “F-fuck, okay, okay, ready my love?”
You nodded, eyes on his as you began to sink, mouth falling open as the oversensitivity and fullness struck. Jace’s thumbs were on your hips, swirling little circles as you descended. The pair of you gasped and panted wetly into each other’s mouths, eyes watery and intense.
Your ass met his lap, a tremble up your spine from the fullness. Jace pulled you against him, stretching his legs out as he pressed kisses to your jaw and neck. His hands rubbed your back, lulling you into relaxing. Taking a deep breath, you settled atop Jace, your cunt pleasantly full and stretched, throbbing a bit.
“Can we perhaps, sit like this for a bit?” You asked him, holding his cheek. Jace seemed more than fine, running his hands lazily across your back still, petting at your hair. He hummed, “Mhm, yes, that’ll be perfect.”
So the pair of you sat in relative ease, humming and lazing by fire. There wasn’t much of a need to speak, more of a time for comfort and intimacy. Jace rambled a little about how much he cared for you, getting shushed again. He smiled at you, rolling his eyes.
The feeling of your lover’s molten cock was beginning to make you sweat. Jacaerys fared no better, shifting restlessly, hands sliding up to grab your ass. He moaned as you clenched involuntarily, needing more. The brunette whispered, “You want it now love? I want you now.”
Indulging the prince you nodded, moaning, “Yes my prince, it’s time, ngh- gods.”
His head fell back as his hands gripped your waist, thrusting up for the first time. Jace’s moan echoed as he pulled back to fuck up into you again. You gasped and whined as he seemed to stuff your cunt further, hips slapping against your ass.
Jacaerys planted his feet, breathing hard as he began to fuck in earnest, mouth hanging open, lips puffy. You felt him eyeing you, your tits bouncing, your stomach baring the vague outline of his cock deep, deep inside. He grunted and held you tighter, losing himself in your slick core.
He inhaled sharply, stuttering his hips, babbling, “Fuck- you feel- so tight my love.” You were at his mercy, reduced to little whines and tears, he was rubbing everything, the friction rising. You clenched further and further as he forced his cock into you, grunting and groaning. Jace’s heavy balls slapped your ass, just another sound in the cacophony of sex.
You shivered and came first, having to pull yourself off, sharply crying. Jace’s cock was hot against your backside, whining some as he pumped a heavy load on your back and ass. You fell against him again, legs shaky and aching from the splendid pain. He panted, holding you tight.
Jace kissed the crown of your head, the comfortable, loving silence between you two and the crackling fire filling the library again. You’d wash up once you figured you could walk again. Damn, Prince.
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luveline · 4 months
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hi love! i absolutely adore ur writing and u should be so so proud of it. anyway i was just thinking about coworker james when readers car wont start in the parking lot and he like takes a look at it and is under the hood and reader is just like "oh...😍" cause the muscles are OUT and shes down bad
ty lovely 💌 fem
“Oh,” you say, “of course.” 
You drop your face into your steering wheel and sigh. An annoyed burst of sound, not cute or feminine or fun, a grunt of defeat. This sucks. Work sucks, life sucks, your car not starting is the least of your worries and yet somehow the most prevalent. 
How am I gonna get home? you think to yourself, defeated.
“Hey!” someone calls. Jogging, the last person you want to see in the world right now stopping at your door. James frowns at you. “It’s not starting?” 
You pop your door, careful not to pop him at the same time. “How’d you know?” 
“I heard the engine turn over.”
“It’s making a clicking sound,” you say, twisting the key so he can hear it. 
“It’s dead, probably. Your battery.”
James has an odd way of talking occasionally, as though you’ve started a conversation and he’s adding onto it. Remus says it's ADHD. You like it no matter what it is and despite yourself —it’s getting harder to pretend you don’t like him. Like, you hate him, he’s annoying beyond explanation, but your more positive feelings for him are heavy and ever present. So, so heavy.
“I’ll pull my car up and we can give it a jumpstart,” he says. “Easy fix.” 
“You don’t have to go?” 
“What?” 
“You have rugby today.” 
“Oh, no, it's the off season now.” He smiles and you don’t get why. “Let me go get the car.” 
James jogs back to his car and brings it next to yours. Everybody who isn’t Human Resources or security has left already, leaving the car park practically empty, ample room for him to park beside you. He gets back out. 
“I don’t have, uh, cables,” you say.
James gives you a smile that is as patronising as it is attractive. “Don’t worry about it, beautiful. I have everything you need.” 
He feels along the edge of your hood, pops the seal, pushes it up into the air, and hooks the prop rod into place. He’s clearly done it before, and the whole while you’re watching his arm. His rolled sleeves draw attention to the tightness at his bicep, and the moving ligament and muscle of his tricep as he leans into the engine to look things over. “I’m no mechanic, but I do know everything, and I thought maybe things were a bit hot but your engine’s stone cold.” 
“So it’s definitely the battery?” 
“Probably.” He scratches his jaw, peering curiously into the guts of it all. “When was the last time somebody looked in here?” he asks, squinting at you, unaware that he’s the finest thing you’ve ever seen. 
Your breath gets caught. 
“Have you ever had it looked at?” he asks, concerned. 
“I… maybe I did. I think so.” 
“You’re supposed to have it looked at every year? For MOT?” 
“I know, I thought you meant before that.” He’s distracting.
James looks you over. “It’s fine,” he says emphatically, “even if I can’t fix your battery, I can still drive you home. You’re panicking for no reason.” 
“Right.” Panicking! Yes, this is panic.
“Listen, can you get the jump leads from my boot? I have to open the hood.” He gestures for you to go. You do as he’s asked, wobbly, and struggle when you get there to actually open it. You slides your fingers under his car's emblem and flinch as it flies up past your face. 
His boot is surprisingly well organised. There’s a duffel bag to one side half-zipped that showcases a flash of red and white uniform, a pair of formal shoes, a dark jacket folded and hidden behind the bag. You want to be nosey and you don’t want him to think you’re stupid. You rush to grab the cables and almost clip yourself on the boot as you duck from under the boot and round the car. 
James smiles when he sees you. No indication that you’re an imposition, it’s sort of like you’re two friends. 
He pushes his sleeves farther up and digs in. It’s awful, what business does he have looking so sharply put together? You hadn’t thought you were preferential to muscle until right this moment watching James move around your engine like an expert. 
“What are your plans tonight?” 
Your palms are hot behind your back. “I was thinking I’d watch a new movie.” 
“That sounds fun.” He ducks away from the engine. “I don’t watch many movies.”
“What do you do with all your time?” 
“Argue with Sirius about who’s turn it is to wash the dishes.” 
You startle. “You and Sirius live together?” 
James laughs and pulls the leads to his own engine. “You didn’t know that?” 
“You come in different cars.” 
“I come in much earlier than he does. And after work he and Remus always have things to do. It’s weird, isn’t it, how couples are always busy? I feel like I never do anything.” James grins at you. “This is interesting, at least. My Friday night isn’t a total waste.” 
James gets into his car and you into yours. With some fiddling, pleading, and a strange noise, he manages to push life back into your car. His smile when it works is his worst one to date, elated and shockingly handsome. 
That Monday, against your better judgement, you bring him a little carrot cake in a tin. A thank you card felt like too much. 
To his credit, he doesn’t brag to anyone that he saved you. He says thank you for the cake with another real smile, and for some reason, despite the mild weather, he rolls his sleeves up at his desk. Almost like he noticed you…
Well, he couldn’t have. Right?
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