#anxiety and envy are the sisters ever

[mushroomjuice]

inside out 2 was good

[reallyromealone]

Title: oh hey a mate(s)

Chapter: one

Fandom: obey me

Pairing: demon brother's x male reader

Warnings: suggestive themes, readers got truama, internalized gender hatred, anxiety, panic attacks, mentions of being a breeding tool, self hate, reader doesn't really understand sex, sexual themes, omegaverse, male reader, mentions of mpreg

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"HE STOLE THEM FROM ME!" (sisters name) Screeched out in a rage as she threw things around "they were supposed to be MY mates! And he stole them! That whore stole them!" She was hyperventilating at this point as her body shook, feeling robbed of her alphas.

Of her life, the thing she wanted more than anything.

"I know sweety but maybe we can set you up wit--"" I don't want someone else! I want the princes!"

And she was going to get them.

She swore it.

'fuck you (name)'

Holy shit this place was big.

God he felt under dressed, especially beside these alphas who were dressed so fancy and perfect.

The floors were marble and two grand staircases winded on each side and paintings that had to be centuries old hung on the walls "we will have one commissioned for you soon enough... Maybe one with us all" Belphegor yawned as he wandered the halls "for now, let's get you settled in" he said and looked to a nervous looking Leviathan who nodded.

(Name) Was nervous as he walked beside the demon who seemed to want to be anywhere but here "I-im sorry if I wasn't who you were expecting... I'll try and not step on your toes" (name) whispered, anxiously fiddling with his fingers and looked down "i-i dont-- fuck... I'm really nervous and anxious and just I don't really talk to omegas often so I'm just--" the demon seemed panicked and (name) felt relief flood through his veins as he pumped out calming pharamones for the Alpha "hey... I get it, if it's any consolation... I'm not great with people either-- hell I think this is the first time I ever left my families property!" He laughed a bit but Leviathan was shocked at his words "you never been into the capital or even your home town?" He asked genuinely and (name) shook his head "nah, my parents didn't trust me going out there-- you know how troublesome an Omega can be"

What the fuck? That's all Leviathan could think as he looked at the Omega worried "I- you're not troublesome?" He whispered and (name) just smiled "I try not to be" (name) giggled a bit as they continued to (name)s apartment, the Omega expecting a quaint bedroom but...

"I think we went to the wrong room.... This is awfully big" (name) said softly to the envy demon who looked confused "you like your apartment?" Asmodeus popped out from nowhere and pulled (name) close with a flirty grin "we had the butlers being your things in, don't worry we didn't let them unpack... Pharamones and all that ~" he pulled (name) into the apartment and (name) felt overwhelmed by all this "there's a nesting room there~ if you need help don't hesitate to ask"

"A-are you sure?"

"Sure of what?"

"That this is for me?"

"You are to be our mate, I personally wanted you with me but Luci wanted you to have your own space... Something about acclimating" his words teasing and (name) chuckled but cut short when his stomach growled and the two demons looked curious "oh yeah! Humans need to eat for survival!"

(Name) Felt embarrassed as he silently cursed his stomach for exposing him like this as the demons looked at one another in a silent conversation.

They were definitely having a sibling meeting later.

(Name) Dissociated during the rest of the evening, eventually ending back in the rooms he was given, the size of his old house if not a bit bigger...

Everything was pristine as he took out his belongings, his prized possessions and small hobbies to occupy him.

A few heirlooms and books and his childhood stuffed toy 'this will go in my nest' he thought as he looked at the nesting room doors, two ornate doors in a rose gold shade, the apartment all light colors unlike the rest of the palace.

It was a strange contrast, almost like they didn't know what to expect so they just made what they thought humans liked. It was funny really, demons trying to understand what humans wanted or needed as he was doing the same, wondering what these demons wanted or liked.

Getting up he went to the nesting room and was overwhelmed by the nesting supplies he was given, piles and piles of blankets and pillows and soft things, his purring could probably be heard from outside the apartment as he snuggled into them, a sense of safety he wasn't quite used to washing over him.

He was excited to make a large nest, spending half the night making it perfect for him to rest in and just not think about the fact he was to be mated on his next heat to seven strangers that were also fucking royalty! Well there goes not thinking about it because here he was!

Also his sister! Holy shit she was mad! And like at his wedding she will be there! Fuuck!

(Name) Was just sitting there head in hands as he processed the fact that within 24 hours he was now engaged and now in the public eye!

(Name) Curled up closer into his blankets and let out a shutter of a sigh, he wondered if he would be able to do the things he enjoyed before... Would he be allowed to garden? Would he have to dress more Omegan? Or would he be able to wear clothes that were comfortable?!

He needed to walk, movement to process this.

Getting up he walked out of his apartment and into the hall, dark and grand, ceilings at least 15 feet tall and paintings lined, some he recognized as the siblings and some unfamiliar as he walked around curiously.

Somehow he made it to the kitchen "I hope they don't mind..." (Name) Whispered as he sliced an apple, careful and gentle as his stomach growled a bit.

"Can I have some?" A voice startled him out of his thoughts causing him to slice his finger "shit!" The voice said and (name) looked to see Beelzebub who in turn looked a bit startled as he took (name)s bleeding finger and put it in his mouth, the Omega looking thoroughly concerned as Beelzebub sucked on the blood "I feel like this is incredibly unsanitary" (name) whispered worried and beez released his finger "demons saliva can heal amongst other things, depends on the demon really"

"Oh " (name) said dumbly as he looked at his wet but healed finger "what else does your saliva do?" He asked curiously and Beelzebub smiled at the others cute and curious expression "ah, well besides healing my saliva can work as an aphrodisiac if ingested!" (Name) Looked concerned and Beelzebub laughed "don't worry, it only works if I were to like make out with you or eat your ass!"

And now (name) was flustered as the gluttony demon kept laughing at his embarrassment "so why are you up so late?" Beelzebub asked after calming down and sealing some apple slices and cutting up some more, handing (name) an orange "just... It's stupid"

"Oh please!" Beelzebub pushed and (name) sighed "I'm just... I'm having trouble processing this stuff, it's stressful and like-- I never left my property let alone this! My sister wanted to be with you guys and she's already insufferable, this is just worse! I'm just paranoid that you guys are going to realize that like this was a mistake and reject me and like the fear of being an Omega in general! Will I be able to do the things i enjoyed before? Will I be a breeding tool?!" He was hyperventilating now as Beelzebub panicked "hey hey, calm down! It will be alright and-- no we aren't making you a breeding Omega.... shhh" beez tried to calm him as footsteps quickly made their way to the kitchen.

"What is happening?" Lucifer and the others seemed startled as the smell of distress was heavy in the kitchen "he's worried we will strip him of his rights and make him carry our young" Beelzebub explained as he lifted (name) into his arms and set him on the counter "were demons but we aren't monsters" Satan said disgusted and Asmodeus smiled "we would never do that unless it's what you're into~" he teased the Omega as they crowded him "I know it's an incredibly hard adjustment but know we mean well, it's literally impossible for us to not fall for each other" it's true soulmates would eventually fall for one another due to the bond "and we are sharing one mate so that means you have seven people to love you" mammon said in a rare moment of genuine care "what do you mean?"

"Oh yeah, he knows basically nothing about secondary gender or soulmates" Levi said softly and the demons looked horrified "well I know what we are doing tomorrow" Satan said simply and (name) looked ashamed and couldn't meet their eyes, feeling stupid for his lack of knowledge.

"Well his town is backwards" Belphegor yawned and wandered off back to bed now that the problem was solved "goodnight...."

(Name) Was led back to his room by Beelzebub and Asmodeus and looked confused when they put sweaters in his arms "the smell of your alphas will calm you~" Asmodeus said simply and the two wished him a good night.

And for once?

He sleped peacefully.

(Name) Spent the next few days learning about soulmates and secondary genders, the two interlocking "when your heat comes, it will be dangerous for you to not mate with your soulmate" (name) read the book in his off time, the book explaining how the bonding is key to not cause rejection symptoms or a drop, he definitely didn't want that. Fuck how does he have sex? Fuck.

Time to go figure that out, he really felt behind on this shit.

(Name) Made home in the library as he looked for any books that would aid him "Hmm? Looking for sex books ~ didn't know our omega was like that" Asmodeus seemed to love just appearing out of thin air and scaring (name) who dropped the book "i-i it's not like that!"

"Hmmm? And what is it about? Oh you're so cute when your flustered!" He cooed and (name) huffed "I am trying to figure out like, how sex works and stuff... I wasn't exactly taught... Just put on suppressants so my family could avoid it" he just constantly felt ashamed with them, their faces of realization and pity as (name) tried not to cry "well, if you like I could teach you~ don't worry I won't touch you where you don't like" Asmodeus could get used to his omega so flustered as he got closer, his alpha giddy at his mate being untouched "the first thing one should know is their body after all~"

"I- uh... I'm not sure..."

Asmodeus let his lips barely touch (name)s as he caged him against a bookshelf and smiled, his tail flickering and (name) seemed a bit startled by it All as the demon gently kissed him "that was... Uh.." "your first kiss?"

"Yeah..."

"Did you like it?"

(Name) Could only nod as the lust avatar giggled sweetly at his adorable Omega "oh, you're going to fit in nicely here~!" He doted on (name) a bit "don't worry darling, we won't do anything your not ready for but if you're willing... To experiment a bit, I'm always a summon away" and with that he was gone, (name) left with nothing more than the smell of his pharamones, sweet Jasmine and warm vanilla.

It wasn't till after lunch that Lucifer brought him to the gardens, a small greenhouse and a garden plot stood "we had it cleaned up, you said you liked gardening" he said simply and looked down at (name) who looked like he was given the potion of youth "really? Thank you so much..." (Name) Was releasing the happiest pharamones and Lucifer kept composure but god damn did that boost his ego as an alpha, making his mate happy.

"Just clean yourself off after you finish" Lucifer said calmly and (name) beamed at this "of course!"

(Name) Puttered in the greenhouse and began planting things, thankfully it was early in the season so he had time to make a nursery for plants "oh, sor--" (name) immediately shut up as he saw Belphegor sleeping in a sun beam, cozy and calm. Looking around (name) found his cape that Satan had made for him and covered the demon with it "it's still chilly" he whispered and went back to work, unaware the demon was awake and watching intently at the Omega who was carrying heavy pots and sacks of soil around.

(Name) Kept quiet for the Alpha, he must be so exhausted to fall asleep in a greenhouse of places so it would be best to let him rest! Eventually (name) moved outside, it was less chilly but a slight chill but movement will keep him warm! Using twine he found in the greenhouse he sectioned spots of the garden plots for various things like carrots and garlic amongst others, they were still in the nursery but it's good to get things ready now, he reasoned with himself.

"Your Highness! It's quite cold!" A servant panicked as she saw (name) in nothing more than a shirt and pants and apron, dirt on his cheek "don't worry! I'm alright!" He reasoned but she was not having it and removed her cape "it's not good for an Omega to be cold like this!"

Before she could drape the cape on (name), he felt fur on his shoulders as Mammon smiled with a warning "don't worry, he's warm" his eyes telling the servant to leave and (name) looked confused "oh hello!" (Name) Smiled at the demon who felt annoyed at how sweet the other was, his bond making his heart beat fast "Luci wanted me to take you into town so get ready" he grumbled and (name) nodded, a simple smile on his face as he wandered to the palace "where's your cape anyways?! It's freezing for mortals!" He chastised and (name) chirped "Belphegor was sleeping and I wanted him to be cozy!" (Name) Couldn't explain why he felt so calm and comfortable with the princes but they made him feel safe, even if they were sometimes like angry chihuahuas.

"You're weird" mammon said with no bite as they walked to (name)s area.

The tailors and seamstresses worked tirelessly to put together some clothes for (name) and his new class, the maids commenting about how the seamstress always kept embroidered sleeves on hand as the brothers always tore clothes during training--- well save for Asmodeus and Belphegor who couldn't be fucked to do stuff like that.

(Name) Felt regal, a beautiful vest made of silk and embroidered with birds and roses and a linen powers shirt and nice pants and expensive boots "you look wonderful your Highness!" A maid commented, (name) growing fond of his personal maids who cheered him in, them all being mated and married betas.

(Name) Was curious as he looked around the city, never really interacting with so many people who looked at he two in awe, the guards keeping a fair distance as he looked at stalls "you seriously never been in a city?" Mammon said incredulously and (name) looked confused "no? It's not right for an Omega to be by himself around alphas, I would be a temptation" reiterating his parents words and Mammon was horrified at the omegas genuine belief that HE was the problem and not alphas who couldn't keep their hands to themselves "well we are unpacking that later"

He didn't even want to get into the family thing, remembering the chat he had with his brothers when (name) had his meltdown and the acceptance that their Omega came from a very problematic living situation but he seemed to be acclimating well.

Or at least he hoped.

Mammon was confused as (name) handed him a stuffed bunny "what is this?" He raised an eyebrow from behind his circular sunglasses "well we didn't get to actually court because of being soulmates so I got you all courting gifts" he chirped out innocently, remembering what he was taught by Lucifer and deciding to put it in action though he seemed to have gotten it backwards as it was supposed to be the Alpha who gave the courting gifts.

"I- uh... Thank you?"

(Name) Seemed pleased as they continued their walk through the cities market, a giant hub of the equally giant city as Mammon stared at the bunny that was made of fabric the same color as his eyes, a small detail that made him flustered.

He noticed (name) budgeting, a soft smile on his face "you know we have basically endless money, right?" Well mammon didn't, he was cut off and put on a strict budget but (name)? He still had his money privileges "that's your money, this is so much!" To (name) it was a lot of money as he did the budgeting of the house back with his family, this was ten times of what they made in a year! "I am fine with this"

Hell, how did they get the exact opposite of them?!

A nervous Omega who was innocent and naive and sweet as honey!

"Oh you are absolutely precious!" Asmodeus cooed at the stuffed rabbit that fit in his hands "I hadn't even thought of courting!" He said with exaggerated sadness and (name) watched the others alphas reactions, though it wasn't the fanciest courting gift, it was a genuinely thoughtful one.

"He was worried about spending the money, he literally budgeted it" mammon groaned and Lucifer snorted "you could do well to learn that" he said as (name) seemed reminded and handed him back the coin bag, the Omega barely dented it "I got a few things for my hobbies but I brought back the change!" He said sweety and Lucifer had cute aggression at that moment as (name) looked at him with so much pride "you know you could have spent all of this right?" He said a little slow, (name) nodding "but that would be rude, I'm spending all your money without care... I don't like that"

Seriously, how did they manage to be fated with the sweetest Omega?!

"He didn't even but himself actual things for himself! He bought things to make us things!" Mammon groaned out but they all knew he equally swooned at the fact their Omega was so sweet.

But also he didn't buy himself anything, Asmodeus has had to bring him to eat and Beelzebub would put food on it.

"Rural Omega culture is different than cities, they're treated more as a commodity" a maid explained to Asmodeus one night as she helped him get ready for bed, she herself being an alpha from the boonies "an inconvenience would be a better word though, everything your saying shows he was treated like how my love got treated, need to make them feel genuinely valued" she went to explain how omegas need regular scenting and assurance to keep mentally regulated and (name) probably never had that.

Which would explain why he seemed like he was constantly waiting for the next shoe to drop despite growing used to them.

Like it was all going to go away.

His dreams were often that, every night he dreamt of waking up in his old room as his sister lived the life she wanted and he was stuck in that musty bedroom where he would rot.

"Your dreams are noisy" Belphegor mumbled as he crawled into bed with (name) and held him close, pumping out pharamones as he thought smugly about the fact he's technically been in bed with (name) before the others. (Name) Snuggled in his chest and physically relaxed, chirping in his sleep as he clung helplessly to him and he was hooked.

He wanted this more and was already annoyed he would have to share with his brothers.

(Name) Let his mates to be plan the wedding though he and Beelzebub thought of food together, the demon horrified at how little foods he got to experience and made him try everything for the wedding and smiled at his happy face with good food "these are mirangue cookies! Like eating plaster that loves you!" He exolained and (name) basically melted at now delicious it was.

Beelzebub was more than happy to share food with him, his alpha wanting the Omega to be well fed to carry his pups after all.

They were all anxious for mating, their bond slowly making them VERY intense about (name) who after weeks, finally sat close to Satan as he read with him though (name) did struggle a bit "omegas being taught to read is laughable, I taught myself as much as I could" he explained and that's when Satan decided he would read for (name), the two spending an hour or two in the library reading together like how Lucifer spent his time teaching (name) new things when he wasn't busy or just dragging him along with things.

(Name) Was always well behaved, he thought of (name)s family and how they were... How did this come out of THAT.

But now, (name) had one worry...

Would he invite his family to his wedding?

[aereasrage]

Notes on The Favorite

summary: a little more insight into the relationships princess reader holds with her family (when ur circle small but all yall crazy). (links: part 1 /part 2/part 3)

cw: platonic!yan, allusions to religion, cheating, open relationships, mentions of pregnancy, crazy is running through this family like the tomb raider, baela and jace saw you from across the bar and liked your vibe

notes: everyone in this family is like save me princess reader princess reader save me

Helaena is often regarded as simple but she knows her family well. She is well aware of her mother’s preference for you but she doesn’t mind. At least it isn’t Aegon. You’re actually kind to her, she knows her words sometimes go over your head but you listen patiently with a smile. And though her children love her, it is sometimes overwhelming to care for them so you often offer to mind them for her while she has some time alone. Helaena doesn’t just enjoy being alone, she requires it and ever since she’s been wed it seems as though it is forbidden for her to simply be alone. She appreciates you for simply knowing what lines to tread lightly across, for never making her have to reject you and your touch. She’s more willing to accept your touch, it feels careful, intended for her rather than for yourself. It feels truthful to your heart.

When you were pregnant with your third child, she gave you an emerald beetle brooch and she embroidered a cap for the baby with little lady bugs. She seemed to be enamored with the child even before her birth, in a way she hadn’t been with her own children. It made her smile to rub your belly and speak to her niece. “Did you know that a beetle’s shell shines many colors under the sun? Sometimes even I cannot be certain which is true. It can only be supposed for some time, at least. It is much like our fate…to be pulled into different lights, made to show the colors others want to see,” she murmured as she felt the kicks of your daughter in your womb. Her words sent a shiver down your spine. Although Helaena was the sibling whose company you’d now enjoyed the most, it was sometimes a bit eerie to be with her when she was in such a state of preoccupation. Even so, you were glad she seemed so interested in her little niece. She was better with your children than her own, it wasn’t her fault, it was just that sometimes it was difficult to see her own children. To know that their sorrows, their little lives were hers was frightening, it was too confronting.

It was easier to look to you. Alicent had always held you as an example for her and even though she had long since given up thinking her eldest daughter would learn to behave like you, Helaena had never stopped wanting to emulate the way you navigated the world. Even though you were the little sister, you had an ease about you that never came to her. Such a thing as being a princess came easily to you, she had understood the difference between you two from day one. When anxiety rattled her system as she carried her first child, she looked to you and thought that if her little sister could be well even married to Aegon, even after giving him a son, she would too. She had been relieved that you had married first, to give her some direction, your mother was really no example in her case.

Once when you two were small, she had woken from a dream and went to your chambers but as she stood outside the door, she heard your mother’s voice and paused. She felt an indelible urge to eavesdrop though she never had before, she wanted to witness this moment, one stolen between her mother and sister. One she was not meant to be part of. She eased the door open slightly to peer in. She had not broken the moment. You two were at the vanity, Alicent behind you, brushing your hair gently, cooing such flattery. Helaena had thought to envy you but truly, she wished to be so close to you as your mother was. She wished to soothe you as your elder sister and say the right things to make you smile instead of leaning on you so heavily. That moment made her feel so ashamed of sneaking off to your bedroom to curl her body around yours for comfort from her horrid dreams. How small you were next to your mother, how young you behaved. Was she forcing you to grow up just for her sake?

You and Aemond seemed years older than her, from her point of view. She was only just coming to understand what she’d already seen before. She was just coming to understand the world and how her cryptic dreams fit into it. She had only been vaguely troubled by her dreams before, only so much so that listening to her baby sister breathe would soothe her back into sleep. She was wrong to be so calm then, even so, she felt wrong to be so overly anxious now. She didn’t know what to feel. Sometimes she was like a newborn, red all over and crying from the rush of sensation all at once. She turned to Aemond for protection, to you for guidance. You were her only template, when she felt the fear rising up in her, she need only turn to you and mimic as best she could.

In contrast, Aemond was a little guard dog for your sake. What Criston was to his mother, he’d be for you, he’d long ago decided. When your egg hatched and his didn’t, he was humiliated. Before you, he only wished to appear strong and capable and he’d even been undermined by Aegon’s egg hatching, the sibling he deemed least worthy. How were you to take him seriously? How were you to believe he could protect you from Aegon— from anyone? Part of the reason he was so desperate to claim a dragon was to show off to you. To appeal to you. Back when he thought he’d marry you, he had even thought doing so would make you think more of him as your future husband. Obviously, it hadn’t happened that way and Aemond was silently crushed. Yet another bitter reminder that the order in which Aegon and himself had been born superseded everything else.

Something strange began to happen inside his mind as soon as you were wed to Aegon, it was as though you became a lady from a song. You were out of reach, permanently, you’d become his brother’s queen. More than flesh, you were now almost mythical to him and more than that, dealt a tragic fate and needing of protection as your mother had been. A saint-like figure for him to ground himself in all his violent, envious thoughts on. Keeping his sword for you made him feel better than he was, it turned his yearning for bloodshed into something like honor. For any drop of blood spilled in your name had to be the highest will of the Warrior. Someday, the realm would tell your name in stories alongside his. He would be remembered as the knight who so loved his sister, so protected her that he became a standard of devotion and love. You were like your mother in purer form, devoid of her violence, of her envy, of her malice and sadness. He longed to protect that version of you. He longed for you to look to him as your protector. It would be something, at least. If he was always fated to covet his brother’s bride, it would do nicely for you to save a place in your heart for him.

Criston was as much of a father to you as he could be without risking too much. Indeed, he was the perfect father for you, one that would not disturb you and your mother. He could spare you kind words, a story or two, his arm when you rose from your seat tipsy on wine after a feast. In private, when you were in your mother’s chambers, he’d tolerate all sorts of silly behavior from you with infinite patience that he lacked with others. He was not just slack about caring what you did, he simply enjoyed you too much to be upset at you even when you had a bit of fun at his expense. You enjoyed unearthing his unbridled care for you by pretending to be hurt, even more so because no matter how many times you did it, he always believed you. Even when he got upset at you for pretending to fall or cut yourself on something and pouted, he was just as susceptible to falling for it again simply because if there was half the chance you were hurt, it was worth looking foolish.

Criston was easy to fluster, it was cute of him. Fun was in short supply in your life and you appreciated him allowing you to make a fool of him every now and again. He understood what you meant to Alicent and that in and of itself required him to care for you more but he himself harbored a certain care for you as well which was separate from her. He was overprotective of you, in a way that could come across as condescending were it not from his lips; “Princess, I beg you not run, you must walk carefully and be careful not to hurt yourself.” When you were pregnant with Aemon, it was; “Princess, I beg you not exert yourself, I wish that you would call on me when I am needed,” when all you were doing was walking down the stairs, “Princess, it is unwise to eat as little as you do,” when all you had done was say you weren’t hungry after spoiling your dinner with sweets. When you were little it was him scolding Aemond for taking you by the arm and tugging you about the keep to go play. “My prince,” he’d said sternly, stepping in front of the two of you. “The princess is but small, I do not believe my prince wishes to see her harmed. You must not handle her so roughly.” Most recently, it was; “My princess, I beg you not to move with so much vigor while with child, you must preserve your health as best you can.” Gods bless his heart.

For Jace, his love for you seemed primordial, the touchstone of his life. His memory of you went back further than his memory of realizing he was different. He gravitated toward you even as the years went by, unable to simply forget what it was like to just be children together. If ever there were anything to make him feel as though he wanted to stay in the keep, it was you. Before your eyes, he’d show no insecurity, admit no uncertainty as to his place. In doing so, he feared he would lose you. As long as he held himself as a prince, perhaps he would be worthy to wed his aunt, the princess. Your affirmation of him was something that held him together even in the face of the most egregious mistreatment. Even as whispers caught on the wind, he kept his mind trained on you, on the first time you ever admitted — alone in the dragonpit, that you wished to wed him and be his queen. He would have you for his queen, he decided long ago. He had not forgotten. And he had oft thought of what would become of whichever man your mother tried to foist you off on.

All men endeavor to find their gods on earth, Jace was no different— except that instead of finding them in service to greater purpose, he found divinity through serving you. He dreamt of having the strength to reach out and truly take in hand what he had wanted all along. You were dreamy, in love with the songs of brave knights, ever anxious, ever seeking a perfect love and protection that none of your potential suitors would ever give to you. He was born to be that gallant knight for your sake, to take up his sword and anoint himself to you. You were as the living embodiment of a fertility goddess to him, a goddess of abundance and pleasure. Some divine will, he thought, brought him to your feet. He would not be convinced that his place was not at your side. Even if you demanded sacrifice as all goddesses do. Let blood be spilled for your sake, if it was the price of a man to seduce a deity. To him, the war between houses would be a holy war, a war of faith. If he could vanquish all the hands that sought to separate you, hurt you, hurt him and his mother; only then he would be worthy. Only then would the pain be turned to virtue.

You once asked him why he was so trusting of you, why he was so willing to give you his complete devotion. He hadn’t known how to answer at the time in a way which would not reveal his madness to you. He had been born with a sword hanging over his head, born with a cross to bear with him from the moment he was conscious of himself but when he was in your presence, a divine fervor came over him. A ritual madness bloomed in his heart that felt to him as he thought kneeling to pray in the sept should. It was only when he saw you that he was reminded that the gods bless even the morbid in their own strange ways. You were the reason he understood why some devout of the faith were called to self flagellate. There was a divinity in pain, too. He found it in his yearning for you.

He participated in a tourney for your name day once, it had left him with a broken rib but he’d fought hard to be able to name you queen of love and beauty. Truthfully, he had not even noticed the near black bruising of his skin until he was out of your sight. And even then, he’d delayed sending for a maester because you’d followed him back to his chambers to look after him. That was where it begun, the crux of your divine affair. The carnal part of it, anyway. In his lap, his armor spattered with blood and a sharp pain singing through his body, you took his face into your forgiving hands and kissed him timidly. His eyes were reverent as they looked up at you. His breath had sped up, desperate, near hyperventilating as you pulled away. He was aching but he was in ecstasy as well. Trying to savor the moment between you two despite his disbelief, his agony and his hunger for more and ever more. That was the way in which he became a man, in his pain, his restraint and his immense pleasure.

Aegon visited brothels and had countless romps with random women even after your marriage but he never saw it as being untrue, at least he tried not to. He only sought whores who reminded him of you. He only sought whores in the first place because he knew well you were a chaste sort of woman, the kind that your mother had expected you to be and to lust after him was not in your nature no matter your love for him which he believed ran deep. Besides that, he was also somewhat aware of the burden of his needs for affection in general. Your mother already scolded him for how he had stolen much of your time away from your children so that you might comfort and reassure him in his weakness. When he stumbled into your chambers drunk and covered in vomit, you peeled off his clothes and bathed him, washing his body so tenderly that it made him hard. Such a touch, such an affection. He did his best not to push his luck and pressure you into bed but how could he resist not stealing your time as he did? How could he resist trying to make his needs greater than that of your children? Still, he at least tried not to do anything to lose your affection completely like treating you as a whore. You were his sister-wife, the things whores that did, exerting themselves trying to keep up with his desires, he understood that it was not the work of a princess. It was not for you to give more of yourself than you already had (though he’d gladly have all of you were it not for his mother’s voice stuck in his head) nor to debase yourself like a peasant girl might for a few coins. So he vented his sexual desires onto ‘lesser women’ who should have no qualms about lowering themselves to his desires. Your mother would surely have had something to say about it if he did keep you in bed as often as he sought to, anyway.

Baela, having seen her betrothed name another woman Queen of Love and Beauty, should have been devastated or otherwise furious. If she were a conventional lady with a conventional lord husband, she surely would be. But she and Jace shared an understanding that was beyond the comprehension of the traditional gentry of Westeros. She had no cause to be possessive of Jace, she had no desire for him to do the same for her. Jace had wanted to be betrothed to you first and Baela was not unaware of this but that was not to say he resented her for what could not be nor that he cared to punish her for not being you. After becoming siblings sharing the burden of their losses, the two shared a love and connection different than that of most betrothed couples, a love hewn in sorrow and in growth— they never restricted each other, never suspected or accused because they had grown parallel to each other in all the years of tragedy after tragedy. They each knew what the other was, what they saw of the world and what they wanted from it. They would not bar each other from pleasure nor from love, not from each other and not from potential others either just so long as the two of them remembered each other as future man and wife. They were the only ones who understood the profound loneliness that had been born inside both of them, the restlessness and the helplessness. They could not deny each other, not when they were each other’s grounding forces in a world that changed so dramatically each moment in tragedy. It had been that way since the day they first joined hands before Daemon and Rhaenyra.

Baela had been seen as a scandalous lady who’d loved many girls and many boys and been free to do so by her father’s leave. Perhaps to the lords of the realm it didn’t make sense that such could be the case while she also loved Jace with all of her heart but the fact remained. Thus, she had been the first to recognize Jace’s feelings for you, he had not hid them from her as she had never hid anything from her. She knew he loved the green princess. She didn’t take that personally, nor was she jealous not even when she grew into a young lady and began to understand what it entailed. After all, she had perhaps a keener eye for women than even he. Perhaps if she’d been close enough to you, she’d have had you around her fingers like she’d been with ladies in the past. She knew from experience that the demure kind such as you were the most delightful on the tongue. The only thing which concerned her was the inherent political risk you carried as Alicent’s precious daughter who went almost nowhere without her— which she made clear to Jace. “If you’re going to fuck her, make sure you’re certain she has loyalty to you— to us,” she’d told him and she was pleased that he’d listened. It wouldn’t do for the Queen to have more reason to insist violence on him. When you gave birth to brown haired children which were obviously Jace’s, it served as proof of how tightly wound everyone was around your little finger, for no one said a word about bastardy. You kept your reputation squeaky clean somehow and that eased Baela’s fears somewhat but still there was the urgency to have you at their side for the certainty of her betrothed’s children, the need to have more certainty of your loyalty that didn’t come from being utterly enamored with Jace’s cock…and even still there was the underlying need to experience you herself. Many a night, Jace had slipped into her chambers and regaled her, as she demanded, with the details of how you tasted and felt to him as his cock pressed up against her clothed cunt in a slow rhythm of strokes and a desperation for the delicious friction that made her clit throb under her small clothes.

It was a delicate balance of caution and desire. She hadn’t minded you having Jace’s children on a personal level, (she cared little for the thought of going to her birthing bed so quickly and likely her children with Jace would be wed to yours) so much as a practical one as it presented an obvious dilemma even with the acceptance of everyone in the keep. The fact that these children were considered Aegon’s posed a great obstacle. She might have faulted Jace for who he chose to fall for but she knew better, life had denied them much comfort, exploration and pleasure. Jace had not denied her curiosities, her tests of pleasures and plays for the love of foolish boys and girls. But she also knew just as well as Jace did that tensions were being built around them all the time and had been since they were but small. She had faith that the opportunity to solve the problem would present itself. Aegon would die, soon or late but probably soon. And then, you’d be taken to wife along with Baela like the conquerers. If they were lucky, his and the rest of the greens’ hubris would do them in without interference, if not…she and Jace were both no stranger to the heft of a sword.

[hahaifolded]

The Siren, the Cook, and the Sister Masterlist

Summary: While collecting bounties to pay off a debt, you run into the Strawhats and among them an old friend. After a huge misunderstanding, the Strawhats decide to help you much to Sanji's dismay. As you guys spend more time, feelings change. However, you're keeping a couple secrets from the cook that can change both of your lives and relationship.

Tags: Sanji x PirateHunterFem!Reader; Robin x Platonic!Reader; Strawhats x Platonic!Reader; Reader is female but their gender is kinda ambiguous in the beginning; OC!Sister Character; Spoilers up till Wano; In-World Typical Violence; Depictions of Illness; Mentions of abuse, power imbalances, death + descriptions of anxiety, more (will be updated as I write more)

Status: Completed (18 chapters, about 24,500 words)

Prologue - The Tavern in the Storm

Chapter 1 - Hello Again

Chapter 2 - Remember Me

*July 21st Update

Chapter 3 - The Chest

Chapter 4 - A Sister's Dream

Chapter 5 - Retrieval

Chapter 6 - Can You Imagine?

Chapter 7 - Love and Envy

Chapter 8 - hey Sanji

*Aug 12th Update

Chapter 9 - Your Biggest Fan

Chapter 10 - You’re Not Like Them

Chapter 11 - A Sister and a House

Chapter 12 - Bounty Posters

Chapter 13 - Family Secrets

Chapter 14 - Mask or Muzzle?

*Sept 4th Update

Chapter 15 - Apologize

Chapter 16 - Mango and the Truth

Chapter 17 - The Shipment

Chapter 18 - 850 Million

Author's Note: This is my first ever fan fiction so advice and suggestions are greatly appreciated it. Also sorry for any mistakes or inaccuracies in this - literally not read by anyone else but me. This has been one of my day dream scenarios so I said fuck it, I'm gonna write it down!

I just finished Whole Cake when I started this so if the story is wrong because of something that is revealed in Wano, I'm sorry.

[andypantsx3]

Deceiving the Duke | 2 | Todoroki Shouto

pairing: Todoroki Shouto x Female Reader

length: 3.2k of 30k words | 2nd of 9 chapters

summary: When Camie Utsushimi elopes on the eve of her society debut, scandal threatens to destroy the family’s prospects. It’s up to you, a lady’s maid, to impersonate Camie throughout the Season, long enough that her elder sister can make a match. The only trouble? Lord Shouto Todoroki is also intent on making a match—and that match, quite impossibly, appears to involve you.

tags/warnings: romance, regency au, class differences, hidden identity/identity porn, aged up characters, eventual smut

The next two days were a whirlwind of activity.

Camie’s dresses arrived, neither quite your shape nor your height, and they required a significant amount of modification to make them wearable. Mrs. Utsushimi helped you select one appropriate for the Monomas’ ball, and you focused all your effort on readying it in time, working into the late night to rework its shape, letting out some seams and taking in other hemlines.

Caroline helped as well, though she mostly only knew embroidery, but she saved several hours unpicking stitches, and covering over some of your hasty needle work with neat little embroidered embellishments.

In addition, Caroline had you practicing all manner of things. She had you stumbling around the sitting room, trying to learn an overwhelming number of dance steps. She herded you into the kitchen to observe table manners, how to sip from a spoon and how to select the appropriate silverware for a course. She tried to impart tips on how to move with elegance and propriety, how to curtsy and when and to whom, proper fan etiquette and conversational etiquette.

Your head swam with the unbearable volume of new information— a thousand ridiculous little nothings that apparently added up to everything.

By the time the Monomas’ ball arrived, you were exhausted, having barely slept or eaten a thing in days. You helped the Utsushimis dress and did their hair, then spent an inordinate amount of time struggling with your own. Caroline helped you match a choker with a small paste diamond to your gown, a pale blue muslin dress which bared entirely too much of your neckline for your comfort.

“Good,” Mrs. Utsushimi pronounced when she met you at the doorway, your stomach churning with anxiety. “You look the part, at least.”

This did not help ease your nerves whatsoever. As the carriage pulled into the Monomas’ drive, you had to suppress a wave of nausea.

Inside, things were even worse. The reception room was stuffed with more nobility than you had ever seen in one place. They were all awash in contrasting shades–the men all marvelously outfitted in dark tailcoats, the women in a posy of pale-colored gowns that practically glowed in the candlelight. Jewels sparkled off of slender necks and at the point of every ear, and the soft pad of boots and slippers against the wooden floors created a sort of murmuring undertone that dampened the sound of the space.

Immediately overwhelmed, you clenched your fingers, still raw from sewing. Your calluses caught the inside of your evening gloves and you winced.

You did not belong here.

Caroline helped take your mind off of things by showing you where to collect a dance card, which you quickly filled with nonsense names to prevent you from having to stand up with anyone, though you doubted you’d be asked. Then you followed the Utsushimis nervously to a conspicuous place on the edge of the dance floor, where Caroline could be seen clearly by any prospecting gentleman.

It was a great relief that at least you did not also have to try to tempt a husband, as the very thought of trying to converse with a gentleman made your skin crawl. You did not envy Caroline, whose whole future had to be decided in this one season, who would have to live with her deception exposed shortly thereafter.

Your place in the crowd meant you were also exposed to the other members of the gentry, however, and you were quickly descended on by all manner of Machiavellian mothers, scouting out the new debut to determine if you posed any sort of danger to their own daughters’ prospects.

“You must be Camie,” a woman in an extravagantly outfitted gown bore down on you. It was so begotten with lace and ribbon and netting that you could hardly make out the shape of the woman underneath. She looked friendly enough, but you had been warned by the Utsushimis never to trust a placid expression.

Your heart climbed into your throat, panicking at being so addressed.

“The Lady Cathleen Bate,” Caroline hinted to you, and you dropped a curtsey, hoping you’d gotten it right. Mrs. Utsushimi did not look upset, at any rate.

“Lady Bate,” you said, trying to control the nervous timbre of your voice. It came out high and strangled anyway.

“I must say, you don’t look a thing like your mother and sister,” she observed, and your heart beat double time.

Fuck, obviously you didn’t look anything like the Utsushimis. Why had any of you thought this was a good idea?

“I…take after my father’s coloring,” you supplied hastily, praying to any god who’d listen that she’d never met the man before his passing.

She made a thoughtful noise, a cross between a hum and a harrumph. It was loud enough that it summoned the attention of the other ladies nearby, and very quickly you were inundated with questions and evaluative once-overs by every scheming mother this side of the ballroom. They practically ran through a checklist of your qualifications, sussing out whether you played piano forte, what sort of needlework you did, what kind of education you’d had, and a laundry list of other incredibly pointed questions that made you feel like you could only ever supply the wrong answer.

Caroline and Mrs. Utsushimi did their best to help field questions and to give answers where your obvious lack of formal education became a hinderance—really, how many oblique references to Sophocles in the original Greek did one need to make before they concluded their training was superior to yours?–but it was all too overwhelming.

Mrs. Utsushimi seized an opportunity when the next question about your appearance came your way. She tried valiantly to draw attention away from you with a dramatic retelling of her husband’s demise, waving her fan as theatrically as she wielded her handkerchief.

The moment everyone’s attention was turned towards her, you took your chance.

You ducked away from the gaggle of women, worming your way out of the crowd. You tried to take care not to arouse notice, as you’d been informed an unmarried girl wandering about without a chaperone was much too bold. You beelined past the refreshments table, unable to help lifting a glass of lemonade and several apricot cakes for your troubles, and headed for a promising door on the opposite side of the room that you thought might be a closet.

It turned out to let into a library—quiet, dark and still. You could just barely make out the shape of a few low armchairs and spines of the books by the silvery pool of moonlight spilling in through a row of heavily-curtained windows.

You rushed in, and quickly shoved the door closed behind you. A wave of cool relief sent you slumping against it. Shifting your spoils to one hand, you yanked down a glove with your teeth, annoyed at how constricting the fabric was, how hot and clammy it had made your hands, then made quick work of the other one.

“Fuck,” you muttered again, delighting in the rudeness of the sound. Even twenty minutes in this company had been too much–you didn’t know how anyone could bear it. Camie herself would have never lasted. “Oh fuck…what have I got myself into?”

“I’m told it’s called a library,” a low voice intoned from the other side of the room, and you screamed, reflexively flinging your handful of snacks in the direction of the voice.

A tall silhouette ducked your apricot cakes, and the silence that followed could only be interpreted as astonished.

All hells, you were so deeply unqualified for the scheme you’d embroiled yourself in.

“I—I didn’t see you—oh, I’m sorry—” you said, watching the figure take a step towards you. The crack of light from under the door highlighted one grey eye and a mop of white hair, a sliver of fair skin. A man.

The proper thing to do would be to leave. You’d been informed to be caught alone with a man was the height of impropriety–-and here one was. But the thought of going back out there made your stomach churn, and you clutched at the door handle uncertainly.

“You’re not…Lord Monoma, are you?” You asked.

The man’s silver eye narrowed in on you. “No,” he said. His tone was low and smooth.

Well at least you hadn’t offended your host, then.

Before you knew what you were saying, the plea was tumbling out of your mouth. “Please let me hide out in here! I’ll give you anything for use of this room. If I have to go back out there I will die.”

There was another moment of stunned silence, and then the man asked, strangely, “I may go, then?”

You squinted at him in the dark. What in hell was that supposed to mean? You weren’t the gatekeeper of the doorway. And of course he should go, for propriety’s sake.

You quickly stepped aside, gesturing to the door and hoping he could see it in the dim. “All yours, thank you for your generous aid in my time of need.”

But the man made no move to leave, and that silver eye stayed fixed on your face. “You’re certain,” he said flatly.

Just what was he getting at here? Could a girl not get alone time with a glass of lemonade?

“Sir–my lord–I’m not sure of your address, I apologize—” you fumbled. “You may stay or go, but I quite require use of this room. If you will excuse me…”

But he still made no move to leave. “And no one is going to…happen upon us here?” he said, his tone even lower and more disbelieving.

Your anxiety spiked. “You don’t think they will, do you?” You asked worriedly. If you were subjected to one more derisive sneer over your inability to read two thousand year old Greek, you would die of humiliation. You quickly moved towards the drapes at the window, inserting yourself behind one.

“If they look for me, you don’t think I’ll be noticed here, do you?” you asked.

There was only silence again, completely judgmental in its ringing emptiness.

If you were really a lady, you supposed you might feel vaguely offended that a man should treat you thus. But you weren’t here to matchmake, so he could do whatever he liked. You shrugged, sliding down the wall to pull your knees against your chest, and took a sip of your lemonade, thankful you hadn’t flung that at him too.

How embarrassing.

The curtain was suddenly tugged back, however, and the man stared down at you. In the moonlight from the window you could just make out two glittering eyes, the straight line of a handsome nose.

“Who are you?” he asked lowly.

“Camie Utsushimi,” you offered, then wondered if you should have made up another name.

Rudely, he did not offer his name back. “Who are you hiding from?” he asked.

“Lady Cathleen Bate, and every other mother who wants to know if I’m to steal their daughters’ prospects out from under them. As if I could, as if I would!” You said moodily.

The man contemplated this in silence. You sipped your lemonade as he seemed to come to some kind of decision.

He made a sort of long sighing sound out of his nose, then offered quietly, “I too, wish to avoid such judgements…”

His tone was flat, but sincere. You recognized the statement for the peace offering it was.

“We can share the hiding place then,” you allowed. “But you must not tell anyone.”

Those eyes glinted in the moonlight, almost speculatively. “You have my word.”

You handed over your single remaining apricot cake to cement the entente. “An honor doing business with you then, sir—or, my lord…?”

His gloved hand brushed your own as he took the cake from you, and he paused, staring down at your bare fingers.

Your face warmed. Right, the gentry were strange about the intimacy of bare skin.

You quickly shoved your gloves back on, cheeks heating, searching for something to fill the awkward silence.

“So, whose daughter’s prospects are you stealing?” you asked stupidly.

The man coughed suddenly, which sounded suspiciously like it might be covering something like a laugh.

“I rather thought gentlemen were the prospects,” he allowed.

You supposed it would be rude to tell an actual gentleman that he and his ilk should hardly consider themselves such, considering how needlessly troublesome this whole marriage market affair was.

“Yes, well,” you said vaguely. “In that case, make sure you’ve brushed up on your Ancient Greek so your wife may accurately test into your coupling.”

Those eyes glinted down at you. Reflecting the moonlight, they were both pale, but you almost imagined they were different colors—his left eye looked a little bluer, perhaps due to the angle he held his head at.

“Must there be a test?” he asked in that low voice.

“Of course. How else do couples converse, if not in Ancient Greek?” you asked.

Those eyes creased, as if the man were smiling. He said something, a string of sounds you couldn’t place—until you realized.

You rolled your eyes, taking an angry sip of your lemonade.

“Yes, a wonderful party,” you answered, as if you’d at all understood what he’d said.

A huff of breath left him, and you knew you were being laughed at.

“Rest assured, I am entirely unsuitable for marriage,” you informed him. “Not a lick of piano forte in me either. Luckily I’ve just been introduced to several young ladies I might recommend to you.”

“Ah” the man said, somewhat knowingly. “This is your debut, then.”

You were struck again by how low and warm and beautifully smooth his voice was. You wondered if his face was just as beautiful as his voice.

“Yes,” you answered, your mind flicking back to the flock of pecking hens back in the ballroom. Then a thought struck you.

“Who are you hiding from in here?” you asked.

The man was quiet for a moment, as if weighing his answer. “...The mothers of the very ladies you’ve threatened to introduce me to,” he said finally.

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you. “They’re bloodthirsty, I will give you that.”

His eyes crinkled a little again, perhaps with another small smile. “I’ve seen their like only once before.”

“Where?” you asked gamely.

“The War for All,” he answered, and another laugh burst out of you.

You shouldn’t have laughed—the War for All, an incident from nearly a decade ago, had been the closest the country had ever come to its downfall. Princess-Regent Momo Yaoyorozu had newly come to power, only to meet a coup from a faction of detractors, attempting to install would-be Prince Shigaraki in her place. The capital had been under siege for nearly a year, before a group of the princess’s allies had helped defeat him–and the princess had spent the next few years consolidating her power, flushing out Shigaraki’s remaining supporters.

It was rude to compare marriage-minded mothers to the like of Shigaraki’s forces.

And yet also perhaps not entirely inaccurate.

“May you meet similar victory on this battlefield,” you told the man.

A clock chimed in the corner of the library, startling you. The remaining lemonade sloshed in your glass.

You sighed, listening to the clock strike eleven. You’d have to reunite with Caroline and Mrs. Utsushimi soon, lest they come looking for you and discover you tucked away in this den of iniquity with a strange man.

“Speaking of battles, I believe it’s time for me to rejoin this one,” you said, getting back to your feet. Standing this close to him, you realized the man was rather tall, and he smelled horribly good–like crushed pine, and the powdery starch that had probably gone into his collar points.

As you made your way around him, he offered his hand, surprising you.

“It was good to meet you, Miss Utsushimi,” he said, the use of Camie’s last name startling you a little. Right, you were supposed to be impersonating a member of the ton. You’d spoken perhaps a little too freely in the dark of this secluded room.

“You as well, sir–lord—?” you said, placing your hand in his, realizing he’d never told you his name.

He raised your hand, pressing his mouth to the back of your hand in a proper greeting. You flushed nervously, the heat of his mouth searing through the fabric of your glove

“Shouto Todoroki,” he said.

Your hand froze in his, your heated blood suddenly icing over.

Oh sweet gods above, you knew that name.

The Utsushimis, as any group of women on the marriage market did, gossipped endlessly about suitable members of the ton. You knew a little about most of the available gentlemen, knew who would be an acceptable catch, who would be an excellent catch, and who would be the catch of a lifetime.

Shouto Todoroki—His Grace Shouto Todoroki, that was—was the catch of any lifetime. He was a duke, about your age, who’d grown up in the very company of Princess Yaoyorozu herself. He was rumored to have fought for her in the very War for All you’d been jesting about, and he was also rumored to be the only suitor being seriously considered for her hand, when she finally deigned to marry.

There was almost no more powerful man in all the country, and you’d flung apricot cakes at him!

You grasped the wall, suddenly feeling woozy.

Lord Shouto made a noise of concern, and the fingers around yours tightened.

“Are you well?” he asked.

You quickly steadied yourself, tugging your hand out of his.

“I–yes,” you said hastily, cringing at how strangled the words had come out. “I really must go, my lord.”

With that, you flung yourself towards the door, tearing it open as though the devil himself were behind you. You winced as the light of hundreds of candles seared your retinas.

You couldn’t help but take a quick glance back at Lord Shouto, which turned out to be the worst mistake of your life. In the candlelight from the door, all his features were suddenly thrown into clarity–and he was the most horribly beautiful man you had ever seen.

He was tall and packed with lean muscle, and had a face like a Greek sculpture—the kind the very Ancient Greeks you were so beginning to loathe would have carved. His eyes were bright and mismatched as you’d thought, his mouth soft and sensuous, and his collar points framed a strong, handsome jaw.

You barely allowed yourself enough time to take in his distinct mop of two-toned hair, before you bit out something strangled and fled, back into the ballroom.

Back to safety.

It was unbelievable luck that no one seemed any the wiser to your escapade as you returned, your nearly-empty glass of lemonade providing your excuse. You slotted yourself in between Caroline and Mrs. Utsushimi and returned to fielding invasive questions, trying to calm your nerves.

You resolved to put all of this behind you, and stay in line for the rest of the season, lest you run a risk like this one again.

You would be good, and you would keep Camie and her family’s reputation clear.

And yet for the rest of the night, you couldn’t help that feeling that a pair of eyes was watching you. And you hoped desperately that you hadn’t already ruined things.

[behindthesoul]

Forgotten Child - Ch. 3

Shang Tsung x Reader

Masterlist || Previous Part || Next Part

Characters - Shang Tsung, you, Li Mei, Kitana, Mileena

Summary - A night alone gives you feelings that spill into the next day

Word Count - 1600

Warnings - angst :) not proofread :)

Tags - @mortal-kombat-shitposts @geeky-trash01 @fandom-garbage

The black dahlia, a mysterious and alluring bloom, stands tall as you admire her petals. She’s been your favorite flower since childhood. You remember annoying your family with facts such as its petals are not actually black! Rather, it’s a purple, almost maroon color, and did you know they are native to Earthrealm?

Your admiration for the flower meant the palace gardens had a patch of black dahlias dedicated to you. Smaller than the patch of flowers dedicated to your sisters, but arguably more loved.

“You were always fond of the dahlia,” a voice says behind you, making you jump. Hand over your heart, you turn to confront the voice.

“First Constable! What are you doing here?!”

Li Mei smiles apologetically, not meaning to scare you. You were the only royal to remain close to her after the death of your father. His death hurt, yes, but your anger was never taken out on her.

“I should be asking you the same. It is late, you shouldn’t be out here.”

Though you trusted Li Mei, you couldn’t let slip that Shang was to visit you soon. It’s frustrating he’d rather keep your love hidden, but you’ll always respect his wishes. It would be nice if she could leave sooner than later.

“It’s been too long since I’ve seen you roam the palace grounds,” you deflect. “Does mother know you are here?”

She nods before moving in to give you a quick hug. She sighs, and you can tell her heart is heavy. The grief of not only losing her emperor, but her closest friend too, was almost too much to bear. You’ll never envy her position in life.

“My family is in deep mourning, Li Mei. I know you miss everyone; I promise they’ll come around soon.”

There’s not much truth to your words. Your mother will most likely hold a grudge against her until the end of time. Still, you hope your worlds will comfort her. Li Mei shakes her head, as if to remind herself why she’s here.

“I was instructed to inform you the Empress wants you to welcome the Earthrealmers for the tournament tomorrow.”

“Ah! The tournament. It completely slipped my mind.”

Li Mei suddenly looks concerned, much to your confusion. She holds your face in her hands and looks deep into your eyes, trying to find something wrong. You relax in her touch; she’s always felt like a second mother to you.

“Not once have you ever forgotten about an Earthrealm visit. You enjoy talking to Liu Kang. What occupies your mind?”

Shang Tsung, Shang Tsung, Shang Tsung, Shang Tsung, Shang Tsung, Shang Tsung, Shang Tsung, Shang Tsung, Shang Tsung, Shang Tsung, Shang Tsung, Shang Tsung, Shang Tsung, Shang Tsung, Shang Tsung, Shang Tsung, Shang Tsung, Shang Tsung, Shang Tsung, Shang Tsung, Shang Tsung, Shang Tsung, Shang Tsung, Shang Tsung, Shang Tsung, Shang Tsung -

“Nothing, I have just been busy.”

Li Mei wants to press further, but decides against it. She wishes you well before taking her leave, leaving you alone once again. You wander around the garden for some time. Shang is a tad bit late, but not enough to make you worry. You return your focus to the garden, heart aflutter in anticipation. There were better, more hidden places for the two of you to meet, but something about the gardens heightens the experience of your secret romance. Maybe it’s the way Shang plucks a rose before placing it in your hand, or the way the dahlia seems to capture his heart, too.

In the distance you spot a clock tower, its chiming announcing the midnight hour, and still, there’s no sign of your love. Anxiety laughs and begins to taunt you, but you swallow the negative feelings and choose to have faith Shang will appear soon. Gazing up at the moon, you whisper his name, hoping he’ll somehow hear your call.

Hours and hours pass. It’s a bit embarrassing, spending hours in the same spot. He isn’t going to show, you know he won’t, but your mind tells you to stay put. The first glimmers of dawn appear, the dark sky morphing into pinks and golds; despair settles in. The birds sang with you not too long ago but now they mock you with their joyous songs.

The sun’s golden rays cast shadows over the garden as you lower your head in sorrow. Precious time that could’ve been spent reading, writing, or sleeping was now wasted by false words. You allow yourself to drown in sorrows for a little while longer before making your way to your bedroom. It’s time to start your day.

Resting before the tournament would’ve been wise. You feel a bit off as you wait for the Earthrealmers with your sisters. All-nighters aren’t uncommon for you. You learned from an early age how to make yourself appear as normal as possible even when you’re running on two hours of sleep. Still, rest would be appreciated. If only someone told you he wasn’t coming…

“Something bothers you. Are you unwell?” Kitana asks, looking over at you. Sighing, you erase any current thoughts of Shang, realizing your frustration with him is easily shown on your face. Maybe you aren’t good at appearing normal.

“I’m fine, Kitana.”

“Are you sure? Mileena and I can greet the Earthrealmers alone. You look upset, you need time alone.” Kitana places her hand on your back and gently nudges you away. Mileena notices your pained expression, and shoos you away.

“You both treat me like a child…” you want to protest more, but you honestly don’t feel like being here. You want to find Shang Tsung and berate him for not showing up, but you also want to curl up in your bed and cry. Finally giving in, you leave your sisters, but not before telling them to apologize to Liu Kang for your absence. You make your way to your room, carefully avoiding any place your mother may be.

To your surprise, Shang Tsung sits on your bed while staring out the window. The sight of him turning around and looking at you with soft eyes would normally make you melt, but you feel anger seeping in. You glare at him, before climbing into your bed.

“Get. Out. I am not in the mood for you right now.”

He sighs before standing to close your door; Shang has to make sure no one sees you’re in his room. He climbs into bed with you and you quickly turn around so your back is facing him. For a moment, guilt passes over his features. It’s a feeling he’s never been familiar with. Throwing an arm over your waist - and noting how you make no effort to move it - he speaks:

“I had matters to attend to last night, something I couldn’t avoid.”

You roll your eyes. “I would’ve appreciated a message, a note, anything, to let me know you were busy. Instead, I sat in the gardens like a fool. A fool who was mocked by the sun’s rising. I wonder if you even care about our time together.”

“I do care, more than I once thought,” Shang replies, gaining your interest. You turn around and face him, eyes still dark with anger. It feels like a small win to him.

“More than you once thought? You did not care in the past?”

“When we met, I did not expect to fall in love with you. Nor did I expect a royal to pay attention to someone like me. You are beautiful, loving, and so much more than I deserve-”

“Get to the point, sorcerer,” you snap, “I currently have no stomach for your tangents.”

He sighs, taking a moment to collect himself. “I cannot explain the circumstances of my absence right now. But know that it was a matter of utmost importance. I do apologize for being unable to notify you, and I ask for your forgiveness.”

Torn between your love for Shang Tsung and the pain of his absence, you stay quiet. Anger fades but leaves behind slight resentment. “I took time to think to myself last night. I cannot be in a relationship I have to hide. I want Outworld to see I am proud of my love, and I want you to be proud, too. I wonder if these feelings are wasted on a man like you.”

“They are not. I understand your wishes and I ask that you be patient for a while longer.” Lying to you is odd, he can’t describe the feeling, but it doesn’t feel good. Making your relationship public could bring unwanted attention to his and Quan Chi’s actions. He briefly wonders if getting involved with you was a mistake, but he can’t bring himself to break things off. Shang feels selfish for wanting your touch.

“You say that often. I wait, and wait, but nothing happens. Your words are starting to feel empty.” You want to cry. Neither of you expected a lonely night in the gardens would bring up so many feelings. It’s late in the afternoon now; Quan Chi will surely wonder where Shang is by now. He begrudgingly gets out of your bed and opens your window, preparing to leave.

“I will return tonight, we can talk further then.” Shang looks back at you with a neutral expression, but his heart is annoyingly hopeful. This conversation felt disjointed and leaves you both uneasy and unsatisfied. It doesn’t matter to you though, you want time to yourself.

“Do not bother, sorcerer. For now, I think it’s best if we go our separate ways.”

[amongemeraldclouds]

The Slytherin Boys as Bridgerton Brothers

Ft. Theodore Nott, Mattheo Riddle, and Lorenzo Berkshire. Some also features x f!Reader as their equivalent partner.

© amongemeraldclouds I do not consent to having my work shared or reproduced elsewhere. Please do not claim as your own, tumblr is the only place I publish my written work.

✿ Masterlist | 808 words | Based on the Netflix show

Dearest Gentle Reader,

This author is pleased to present the dashing, young Slytherins as their Bridgerton counterpart should they ever grace the ton with their presence.

Theodore Nott as Anthony Bridgerton

𝄞 Theodore Nott as Anthony Bridgerton would be a walking contradiction, oscillating between his responsibilities as a viscount who had to grow up too soon and a rake who refuses to grow up.

𝄞 While attending school at Oxford, he never had to worry about grades as he’s naturally intelligent and can ace his classes with little effort. He’s also generally interested in learning so he never has to force himself to study.

𝄞 This allows him more time to goof off with his classmates so they would go on countless adventures and get into all sorts of trouble. Nothing that would stick of course, given their high status in society and the privilege that comes with it. 

𝄞 Given the early loss of his father, he becomes the viscount at a young age and assumes responsibility for their people and his family. It feeds into his serious and introverted side and he initially has strong opinions on Daphne’s suitors, thinking he knows what’s best for her.

𝄞 When he challenged Simon to duel, part of it would be to defend Daphne’s honor, but another part would be his subconscious tendency towards self-destruction.

𝄞 Secretly, he envies and resents his siblings for not having to bear the responsibilities he had to. Still, he cares for them and always tries his best.

𝄞 He prefers having sex with only one partner, but if he doesn’t have one, he will frequent brothels to get his urges satisfied. He never hesitates to do what he needs to do, both in business and his personal life.

𝄞 When he finally opens himself up to marriage, he initially has a strategic plan, refusing to be swept away by whimsical notions of love. All it ever brought was pain, no thank you.

𝄞 And then he met you. The woman he lost a horse race to, the woman who could best him at pall-mall and is not afraid to get her hands dirty, literally. The woman who could carry herself in a hunt. His match.

𝄞 He rarely fell in love, if at all. But when he fell, he fell utterly and hopelessly in love.

𝄞 In his words, “I have never met anyone like you. It is maddening. How much you consume my very being.” He was never one for moderation.

Mattheo Riddle as Benedict Bridgerton

₊✧ As an aspiring artist, Mattheo Riddle enjoys drawing and often has charcoal or ink stains on his hands, just like Benedict Bridgerton.

₊✧ He likes smoking in general and usually bonds with his sister, Eloise, through their regular smoking sessions on the swing. They confide their dreams and fears with each other.

₊✧ He is closest to Anthony, who often seeks his support as the second son.

₊✧ Once he dives into the art scene away from the prestige of the ton, behind doors closed and with curtains drawn, he is pleasantly surprised to discover the sensual side to these parties.

₊✧ He regularly attends these parties for sketching, booze, and orgies - everything his creative heart could desire.

₊✧ He is genuinely passionate about his art and hopes to get into art school of his own accord.

₊✧ He will not hesitate to turn to substances when he needs to relax, even if it means over consuming Colin’s calming tea to soothe his anxiety of getting into art school.

₊✧ He got so wasted that he found himself screaming in exultation from the windows of their quiet countryside home when he was accepted into art school. 

Lorenzo Berkshire as Colin Bridgerton

❥ Much like Colin Bridgerton, Lorenzo Berkshire is also a free spirit who enjoys traveling and sharing stories of his adventures.

❥ Life of the party, he loves joking around with others.

❥ He is loyal to and protective of his family, always ready to support his siblings, especially his older brothers when needed.

❥ However, when he sets his sights on a goal, he is headstrong and not afraid to pursue things on his own. Whether it’s courting Marina or making investments in an attempt to find his purpose.

❥ Given his penchant to see the good in others, he can sometimes come off as naive but is open to learning from his failures.

❥ He remains a romantic idealist, but often has his head in the clouds that he overlooks your affections and only sees you as a loyal friend.

❥ Everything changes when he gets closer with you and your confidence grows the more autonomy you have with choosing your own gowns, for example. He starts to consider you less like a friend and more romantically.

❥ He better get his hands and knees ready for all the groveling he will go through to win your affections after he denied and rejected you for so long.

✿ Masterlist <- read more

Author’s note:

✿ Wrote this while eagerly awaiting Bridgerton season 3. ✿ I will go absolutely feral when Benedict’s season arrives. That man is already so gorgeous, how are they going to give him a glow up? Losing my mind 🥵

[whinlatter]

What about the dynamic between Ron and Ginny? I don’t see too many people talk about them other than the one time he tried to sl*t shame her.

this is a lovely one, thank you so much anon. the two baby weasleys. two beloved bruisers who will squabble til the cows come home but who would absolutely take bullets for each other in a heart beat... it's the loves of my life, ron and ginny weasley.

the dynamic between ron and ginny is, as you say, deeply misunderstood, deeply underrated and, ultimately, deeply loving. the ron haters will say ron's a misogynistic slut shamer towards his sister: the ginny haters (these are, i fear, much more numerous...) will say that ginny is a nasty bully towards her big brother, the family/molly's favourite who basks in greater limelight and parental love than poor tormented ronnie. i think that says more about fandom's inability to a) remember we are talking about children/teenagers, b) remember that tripping your brother to humble him when he's being openly horny about his future in sister in law is praxis, and c) grasp that conflict between characters does not preclude the presence of real love, care and mutual respect in their relationship. ron and ginny's dynamic is interesting because it brings out each characters' insecurities and flaws (for ron, his anxieties about his reputation among his own peers and his position within his own family, his worry about his family's wider reputation and wellbeing, his particular overbearing concern about ginny's safety post CoS; for ginny, her resentment of being overprotected, her inability to stomach hypocrisy and tendency to fly off the handle when confronted with it, her righteous temper in general...) but i think if the characters were, er, real, and you were able to show them the fandom takes/discourse around their relationship they'd be like, er, what? obviously we love each other to death. we're very very close. we're mates who enjoy each other's company and increasingly hang out a ton and treasure each other as dearly beloved family, what are you on about? like, yes, of course they bicker. of course they fight. but those two, in their core, are good. i think as adults they'd be closer still.

(there's been a horrid fanon tendency in the last few years to make a lot of hay out of the idea that molly desperately wanted a daughter and mistreated ron, her sixth son, as a result. this is an allegation that seems to have its sole canon basis in what the horcrux screams at ron ('least loved, always, by the mother who craved a daughter'). looking past the fact that the horcrux is, er, expressing ron's fears not reality (in its next breath claims hermione is .... in love with harry lads! tiktok fandom discourse do not like to remember this!), i think it's very important that even if this is ron's fear - that his mum loves him less than his siblings and only had him because she was trying to have a girl - it doesn't actually ever inform any resentment or jealousy towards ginny by ron. ron and ginny fight, of course, they do, but ron never makes this apparent anxiety ginny's problem. ginny could be someone ron bitterly resents, someone his mother and, by 1997, his best friend prefers. but he doesn't ever do that. ron just really loves his sister and wants her to be safe, and yeah, sometimes that pisses her off, but it doesn't come from a place of envy or resentment, which, given ron has oodles of that in other relationships, is saying something.)

my favourite ron and ginny moments:

in CoS when ron's desperate to see ginny get sorted and then gutted that he missed it :(

in CoS when ron teases ginny sweetly about her crush on harry but as soon as malfoy does it is ready to commit bodily harm

in PoA when ginny's suffering with the dementors and she goes looking for ron (even though the last thing he told her was to go away, lmao. just sibling things. fuck off and die! but also i would give you both my kidneys)

in GoF where ginny really is trying not to laugh at ron for asking out fleur when that is plainly fucking funny

in OotP when ron gets one singular look at michael corner and decides he is NOT good enough for his sister and also probably a traitor

in HBP when ron and ginny are at war with each other but ginny names her pygmy puff after him and as soon as ron is poisoned ginny is the first person on the scene (with hermione) and does up poirot with harry trying to solve the mystery of her beloved brother's assassination attempt. he will be avenged!

in DH when the catalyst for the ron/harry fight escalating and ron leaving is the moment ron accuses harry of not caring enough about ginny........ king shit sorry!

bonus in DH when ron's like yeah ofc i didn't go home are you mad. fred and george would have been fuming. and ginny, my moral weather vane, would have run me through with the rustiest of pikes

thank you for humouring me with this ask game anon!

[hotbellepepaz]

ok so… was on the bus today…all of a sudden…

POP NEW AU IDEA BETTER JOT THIS DOWN BEFORE IT LEAVES ME AAA-

presenting

da Inside out journalism/undercover au???

In this AU, Disgust and Envy are the stars of the show! They’re an aspiring journalist duo who hope they can get their big break with a hit story. Alongside their partner Anxiety, they have their watchful eyes on a criminal group, The Rainbow Renegades. Made up of 6 members, these guys are tough cookies to deal with, and so Disgust, Envy and Anxiety will have to use their smarts to get intel and bust these outlaws. However, the duo doesn’t know that they have a secret weapon that can help them bust the Renegades, but it won’t come out to them that easily…

Characters

Journalists

Disgust

The lead investigator. Loves dressing up and writing about gossip. She’s been doing it ever since high school. Runs a small newspaper/magazine with her sister Envy called HotGloss News. Having sewing and fashion design as a hobby, she uses this skill to her advantage and designs all sorts of disguises for the trio to use. Her biggest weakness? Bias.

Envy

Disgust’s little sister and partner. She aspires to be just like her sister when she grows up, and run her own newsletter! Despite only being 9 years old, she helps her sis in investigations and does it amazingly. I mean, nobody expects a child to be an undercover investigator! She has a blossoming friendship with Anxiety, and often wants to tag along with her when she goes out, even though she keeps insisting that she shouldn’t. Huh.

Anxiety

A friend of Disgust’s that took this job to aid the duo in getting intel. Also, it’s just fun to go undercover and spy on people. Anxiety says she’s also trying to escape something from weighing on her, but the “something” she mentions is unknown. She goes out often to run errands of her own, but always comes back out of breath, tired, and nervous. Sometimes she even seems to come back hurt in some way, which makes this habit sketchier. Little do Disgust and Envy know, she has something bigger hiding behind their back…

The Rainbow Renegades

Sunshine (Joy)

The leader of the Renegades. Always comes up with a devious plan to smash and grab. Her specialty being the “sunburst” in which she pulls out a gun and spins while pulling the trigger. Sounds cute, but it’s extremely deadly.

Flamethrower (Anger)

The Renegade best known for setting the ransacked place on fire. For some reason, it comes out of his head. (!?)

Greg (Fear)

Instead of having a super-cool alias like the other renegades, this guy just goes by “Greg”. But don’t let his vulnerable personality and look fool you, as he has strength at unbelievable levels.

Au_revoir46377 (Ennui)

The renegades’ in house hacker. Going by her online username, she finds places that got the goods they want, and locates them for the renegades to ransack. Also usually turns off all security cameras as well.

Smasher (Embarrassment)

On the same floor as Greg, but Smasher is a bit more shy to throw punches. He’d rather just take the stuff.

The most important character, out of all of them, is actually Anxiety, and for a special reason. Remember how I mentioned that she goes out fairly often, and comes back suspiciously exhausted every time? Well, that’s because she’s secretly part of the Rainbow Renegades.

Zap (Anxiety’s alter ego)

When Anxiety goes out to “run errands,” what she’s really saying is that she’s going to go meet up with her comrades, the Rainbow Renegades, and go break the law. Under the alias Zap, she is probably one of the greatest criminals the Renegades have ever had. She can pull off a heist that would usually take more than one person, all under one minute. In fact, Sunshine considers her the bestest friend and partner in crime she’s ever had! However, both sides don’t know about her identity on the other. Disgust and Envy don’t know about her criminal life as Zap. The Rainbow Renegades don’t know about her real and investigator life as Anxiety. Yet, she’s way too nervous to come out to both. She thinks she’ll either disappoint or enrage either of them. So for now, she’s just going to figure out how to live a double life.

dw guys the bakery au is still alive and well :> just gonna have my head on this one for a while… AND IM GONNA WRITE IT ON AO3-

[itsgameofthronesimagines]

Would you be able to do another Alicent Hightower x fem reader headcanon/imagine? Maybe where the reader is a targaryen/velaryon but enjoys fighting/hunter instead of normal “lady” things?? I’m not great at coming up with prompts so srry if it’s bad, but there’s a lack of Alicent content and I really need some. Thanks!

-🐢

Title: Green With Envy

Fandom: House of the Dragon

Pairing: Alicent Hightower x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1,482

Summary: Y/n Velaryon is the best of both of her siblings. She’s a cunning warrior and skilled in fighting like Ser Laenor, and is one of the best dragon riders in all the Seven Kingdoms, like Lady Laena. Alicent would be a fool not to notice this.

Warnings: Anxiety, mostly. Alicent’s riddled with it.

Author’s Note: It’s a short one but I loved the idea of it, nonetheless. I hope you enjoy!

(I do not consent my works to be reposted/copied)

“Cousin Y/n. Walk with me. I wish to hear about the years we’ve been apart.”

Alicent could feel her face twist momentarily into a frown against her will as she watched Y/n and a pregnant Rhaenyra leave the room, arm-in-arm, behind her wine cup.

Between the chaos of Vemond Velaryon’s death and the King’s wish for a family dinner, Alicent hasn’t had her usual warrior to stand by her side. Y/n had been reuniting with her nieces and nephews and allowing her mother to dote on her. Alicent couldn’t feel envy from this. Princess Rhaenys lost two of her children in a short span of time, and she would no doubt want to spend her days in King’s Landing beside her last living child.

No, what truly thrusted envy into Alicent’s heart was Rhaenyra, once again taking whatever she wanted without ever facing the consequences. Surely, the princess wasn’t stupid enough to take Y/n away from Alicent as well as everything else. Nothing will take the Queen’s sword shield from her. Nothing.

Y/n has done the impossible. She fought all odds and survived her birth. She claimed the Bronze Fury, Vermithor when she was only ten years old. She rose to the ranks of knighthood even though she was a woman. She put herself in the King’s court and swore fealty to the Queen... She even stole that queen’s heart.

Ser Y/n Velaryon is a perfect mixture of both her brother and sister, therefore a storm, not even her father could tame. And like any storm her family avoids, she swallows up and takes what she wants without mercy. But like many storms, Y/n is also forgiving and gentle, proving the fruits of her labor is well worth her knighthood. She believes in faith and justice, much like a true knight often portrayed in a little girl’s fantasy.

If Alicent was still a little girl, she would have considered Y/n the knight of her fantasy. Now a woman grown, she looks at Y/n and sees so much more. Y/n is more than just the Maiden or the Father. She is the Warrior as well, all of them reincarnated into this woman to tempt the Queen Consort.

Y/n was a powerful ally to the Greens, which made Alicent all the more concerned at the thought of Rhaenyra stealing her away. Should the Blacks want to take her sworn shield, Alicent would be sure to make their efforts a living hell.

These thoughts kept her awake for most of the night, waiting anxiously for her sworn shield’s return. A knock suppresses her door, and the Queen bids whoever was there to enter. Ser Y/n marches in, her helmet under her arm as she dutifully bows her head to Alicent, “Your Grace.”

“What did Princess Rhaenyra want from you?” Was the first thing Alicent could find within herself to ask, standing from her chair by the hearth.

Y/n smiled slightly as she raised her head, “She wanted to know how my days in court have been. She congratulated me when I told her how I was your sworn shield.”

Suspicious and on edge, Alicent clasped her hands together so as not to pick her nails, “That’s all you spoke of?”

“We talked about the baby for the most part. She’s very confident it’s a girl.”

The Queen forces herself to relax, unwinding her hands to lean on the back of the chair. Alicent takes a deep breath, watching the flames dance in the hearth, “I see.”

She hears Y/n’s armor as the female knight takes slow steps forward, and with each step comes the beating of Alicent’s heart, pounding in her ears, “Your Grace, I fear I have news from my mother that may concern you if you mind me telling.”

Her heart sinks before Alicent forces herself to remain undeterred, briefly nodding her head in her shield’s direction, “Please do.”

“She spoke of my father and his health and then mentioned a letter he had sent to her before he sustained his injury. As you well know, with Laenor and Laena dead... Lord Corlys no longer has an heir to Driftmark until Prince Lucerys comes of age. His legacy is dwindling... and so he wishes me to go home and marry the son of a Sealord of Braavos.”

The crackling of the fire fills the room and drowns out the silence. Alicent’s eyes finally move to meet Y/n’s gaze as her stomach drops with dread, “... What?”

Y/n’s sigh was heavy, internal mourning shadowing her features as her eyes dance over Alicent’s, “I am Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys’ last living child... and I am unwed and childless.”

“But you’re a knight!”

A scowl takes its place on the knight’s lips as she spoke ill of her father, “Not even Lord Corlys believes that my vows ring true because of my sex.”

Alicent scoffs in disbelief, turning around and drawing closer to the fire as her nails finally rise to her mouth. Her fingers shake against her lips, her teeth desperately wanting to tear at the skin around her nails, desperate to feel the familiar sting to relieve the stress of her troubles. It was as she feared. The Blacks wanted Y/n, as powerful as she is, with her dragon and her lust for battle. Rhaenyra, yet again, wants to take everything as hers knowing that there is no one able to tell her ‘no’. The princess wants nothing but to cause Alicent pain, as she always has. Even when they were girls, lovesick and innocent of the world, Rhaenyra did as she pleased and gave Alicent grief for worrying so much about her public figure. Either Rhaenyra was blind to life’s expectations of her as a woman, or she just didn’t care and wanted to fly her dragon with Alicent at her back. It was stupid, wishful thinking at the time, and even after all these years, Rhaenyra seems determined to prove her point by taking whoever she wants whenever she wants.

And yet, Alicent also couldn’t help but think of this small betrayal as a political move. House Velaryon was, by all accounts, loyal to Rhaenyra and her succession to the Iron Throne, through her marriage to Laenor and Corlys’ ambition for power. If the Sea Snake felt threatened by the Greens in any way, he would want his daughter removed from her service to Queen Alicent. Rhaenyra might have been aware of this prior to her arrival at the Capitol and could have wanted to persuade her cousin Y/n to the Blacks.

This hardens Alicent’s heart, her back straightening until she’s the regal queen the public believes her to be, her fingers falling from her lips to draw to her sides. Remembering her station and place in this world, Alicent’s persona becomes stern and confident, unlike the young lady she once was, full of crippling anxiety. Turning away from the hearth, Alicent points her gaze back to Y/n.

The change in her posture must have been obvious as Y/n slowly straightens to attention, watching her carefully as Alicent stepped closer. The Queen took several steps until she was close enough to feel Y/n’s breath on her forehead, then proceeded to lift a hand to rest on her sworn shield’s chest plate. With determination and authority, Alicent spoke as clearly as possible, “You are sworn to me. You made your vows to me. As your Queen, I forbid it. I forbid you from leaving King’s Landing. I pray for your father’s recovery... only so that I can tell him this myself.”

Her hand trails further up until it rests on the side of Y/n’s face, and finally, the knight relaxes against Alicent’s touch, shoulders slouching in relief as if she was worried the Queen would obey her father’s wishes. In a small whisper, Y/n nods to Alicent, “Thank you, Your Grace.”

Alicent nods sternly despite the hammering of her heart and her wish to smile. Instead, she pulls away, immediately missing the feel of Y/n’s flesh against her skin, but refused to show it. Clasping her hands together to keep them from touching Y/n again, Alicent lifts her chin high, “Tomorrow, I wish to meet Vermithor officially. You must introduce me.”

Y/n’s eyes widen in shock and Alicent can’t entirely blame her for the surprise. She didn’t know what came over her, but Alicent didn’t dare take it back. She was always wary about dragons, even as a girl. She always refused a ride when Rhaenyra offered to take her on Syrax, yet to Alicent, this felt entirely different. Y/n is not Rhaenyra, and Alicent always feels the need to be a part of Y/n’s life, in every way she can be. Knowing her sworn shield to be a dragon rider didn’t bother Alicent like she thought it would, and perhaps that’s how she knew she was in love with Y/n.

Her sworn knight smiled widely, her eyes gleaming against the flames of the hearth, cheeks warm as she bowed, “As you command, My Queen.”

~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Please leave your support and if you want a request, send a raven and leave it in the ask box!

[zenmom]

Aaaannnnyyyyyyways

meet Jealousy, daughter of anger and envy sister of envy.

She is by far the worst of all the emotions that I’ve ever felt. And I am not kidding, she is much worse than anger. She has zero positive things to say about you and has so many really hurtful things to say for you if she thinks you are in some ways better than her. Those hurtful things she says can be very damaging for relationships whether it’s friends or family or loved ones. For those who did not get on her bad list, she has respect for you (or maybe not or might be indifferent) She is the only emotion that must be kept away from the console (unfortunately that’s how it is and she is capable of destroying what you’ve worked so hard to build up on social connections)

I had fun picking out the colour palette for her which I have yet to establish for her. Well, I mean, she isn’t really fun and even less so to feel her. And this is why I try to keep her bottled in my mind. Pairing her with sadness or fear or both can be a hot mess of negativity (it’s like Anxiety and fear at the same time which can lead to an endless loop of paranoia till Joy fixes this) but a negative storm.

The colour of the console would be a dark green, darker than Disgust’s

[freshlyrage]

Running Like Water

Chapter 19

pairing: Javier Peña x OFC (written as xReader)

fic warnings: NSFW Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI) language, strained family relationships, mentions of drug abuse, discussions of insecurities and body image issues, daddy and mommy issues

fic tags: Best friends younger sister, Life-long crush, Friends to lovers, Unrequited love, slow burn, Push and Pull, Small Town Dynamics, Secret Relationships, latina MC, Fluff and Angst, OFC!Jessica Alba face claim, sorry Lorraine I'm bringing you into this, Time jumps, 2 year age gap, pre-canon

word count: 5.6k

a/n: Two more New Orleans chapters after this. Don't forget to visit my pinterest board "Running Like Water".

The section labeled "The Trip" has some reference's there. Enjoy lovies.

Masterlist

Abandon the thought. Forget it. A selfish, irresponsible and senseless idea, just like the thought of a family with you. Javi walked ahead of Felipe in silence after the foolish suggestion, hadn't he known Javier would have married you in an instant if the timing was right? If you weren't Frankie’s sister, if he wasn't leaving. He couldn't take you to Colombia, absolutely not. Wasn't safe, he almost told Felipe bringing Gina along wouldn't be a great idea either. But god did Javi’s stomach turn at the thought. Stirring with fear and yearning. He knew you'd never go along with a plan like that, you were fresh out of college figuring out your own career, how selfish would it be for him to expect that you would drop everything, family included, for his career ventures. 

Cheeks flush once the night air hits his face as he walks out to the rooftop pool, a bar lining its left side. Irresponsible idea.

Would you pick out the furniture? He’d let you.

Hands digging into his pocket and striking his lighter to smoke. He hears Felipe stopping, he must've found his fiance.

 He just called you his girlfriend for the first time today, it doesn't feel like enough. Juvenile, he knows he'd want you to be his wife, eventually. After Colombia, not everyone works out like Gina and Felipe.

You could teach in Colombia. You were so good with kids.

Relaxed when he sees you. Breath catches in his throat. Your back is facing him as you sit at the bar, drink in hand. Lean shoulders exposed, no, entire back exposed with a dip just below your back dimples. Those dimples, his thumb fit there perfectly when he’s driving into you from behind. Hair laying on one shoulder. 

An angel alone at the bar. His angel. Its sudden, instantaneous, all anxieties of his talk with Felipe fades at the sight of the soft slope of your nose then lips. 

Magenta shines from behind the bar lighting your smile, bright and wide as you nod to whoever is catching your attention. Your exposed back illuminated in a waving cerulean from the reflection of the pool lights. Pet Shop Boys ringing in his ears. You are the most beautiful thing he's ever laid his eyes on. Your brows screw in concern and your smile falls a bit, shoulders slouching. 

Javi’s mustache twitches at the change in mood as he walks across the poolside, toward you. His eyes dart to the man next to you, he has that look in his eyes. A lustful look. Javier’s stomach flips at that. A fiery and intense jealousy he thought he was immune to settling bone deep. He remembers attempting to swallow down that biting envy when he found out you had gotten a boyfriend while he was gone in Houston. But this is different, that was juvenile, you're his now. 

The second he reaches you he places his hand on your lower back, wedging himself in the space between you and the man. Your eyes go doe as you look up to Javi with relief. A smile growing on your glossy lips, Javi cranes his head to kiss you quick. “Hi baby.” You mutter against his lips and he feels the most primal he’s ever felt. All his, mine, mine. He kisses you again like you two had been apart for years. Your lips tasted fruity from whatever you had to drink tonight. He was always the one to call you all sorts of pet names so you calling him baby in public has him urging to pull you off this bar seat and drag you back to the hotel room. 

Fuck it, he kiss you again, “How much have you had to drink?” He asks with genuine curiosity devoid of judgment. You scrunch your nose, giving him a tipsy smile and Javi just chuckles, rubbing his hand on your back, cold. “You cold?” You shake your head a no, Javi nearly melts at how perfect you look tonight. He was forever indebted to whoever made this dress.

From his left the man he long forgotten about clears his throat. Javier’s entire demeanor changes in an instant, you spin in your stool to face the man. “Javi–this is… Drew, he works at LSU, anthropology professor.” You beam, your own hand grabbing at Javi’s suit blazer, giving Drew a line of view. Javier lets you move him but he isn't fond of the man, he saw the way he looked at you. 

Drew’s face is slightly bemused, staring at you and back at Javier before he extends his hand. Javier takes it anyway, giving him a firm shake. “Nice to meet you–sorry I’m just a bit confused-”

“Jesus–I’ve gotta pee, I’ll be back.” You jump to your feet unsteadily, Javier catches your elbow to balance you on your heels. You let out a small snort of embarrassment. 

“I can come with.” Javi suggests and you frown, waving a drunken hand, no before walking on your own. Your hips swaying with your struts, lower back dangerously giving a sneak peak of whatever set you had under the dress. Javier watches your every move until you're entering the bathroom and closing the door behind you. 

Javi shakes his head, no more drinks for you. He sits in your stool, beckoning the bartender over. Whiskey, Jim Beam. Javi smiles at the man next to him before sipping. Drew seems to be itching to say something to him. His brows screwing, hands fidgeting with his beer during the awkward silence. Awkward to him, Javier was on quite the power trip knowing he was making whats-his-face intimidated. 

“Look man I mean no disrespect-”

“Good.” Javi cuts, his low tone causing Drew to frown further. 

“I just didn't assume she was with someone, she was just dancing with some girl all night and sat at this bar alone, you know looking like that.” 

Javi’s nostrils flare, he sips. He wasnt going to get rowdy, he really fucking badly wanted to get rowdy, but this was your trip. Your little vacation, god forbid Javier flips out on some guy for flirting with you. He’d be in jail for life if he loses his shit every time you get hit on. He chooses his battles. Still, he's up for a bit of verbal confrontation. “Looking like what?”

Javi takes in the looks of this man for the first time, his protective bone striking deeper, noticing the aging spots on the man's face. Hair thinning at its sides, age lines at his eyes. This man had to be at least fifty. Javier's chest rises like an animal prepared to assert dominance, he exhales settling himself. Eyes snapping to the bathroom door. 

Drew shakes his head, “Call me old fashioned but I would never let my women leave the house in something like, especially if I wasn't there.”

Call me old fashioned, I would just call you old.

Javier bites it back, his cheeks warming with anger but he controls himself, for you. “Good luck with hitting on young women in bars if you still believe women are things to be controlled.” Javi chuckles, his eyes find you swinging the door open, apologizing to the person waiting by it. A smile bright on your face as you dance your way towards the bar, lord you were drunk. Grabbing a martini from a waiter before stopping at the dance floor to dance by yourself. Hair swaying with your little hip movements. 

Drew watches you too and shakes his head again. Javi hopes it falls off next time. 

“Women these days, no home training and classless. Us men don't have to sit and take it. You seem too far gone though.” He sneers, eliciting an eye roll from Javier. Could the man be more cliche, an old geezer who he couldn't have the pretty young thing at the bar so he resorts to complaining about women as a whole. Javier met a few of these insecure men at the academy, that's when he knew maybe he didn't belong in that environment. A group of hormonal sexually repressed losers who power-tripped with a gun and badge. He thinks of the year he spent as a cop and sees a different person. He can't believe he thinks, thank God for the DEA. 

Javier sips his drink and watches you proudly. “Yeah I am far gone.” Not caring to give into the lowlife. The DJ transitions into Lucky Star by Madonna and you squeal with a jump, your martini spilling the slightest on the dance floor and your twirling to the synth beat. Javier wished he had his camcorder to film you losing yourself on the floor. It wasn't like you to be this out there in public, liquid courage was a real concept, Javier thinks. 

“She was flirting with me by the way.” Drew says it in a geeky matter of fact tone and Javier can't help but smile. You would never, not in a million years. Javier's jealousy only manifested in protectiveness, never has he ever feared you reciprocating any sort of attention you might receive. 

“Andrea!” Javi calls your name, beckoning you from the dance floor. You pause your dancing and grab a fistful of your dress to prevent yourself from tripping over the long fabric while you hurry over. Drew’s face drops slightly when you approach the two men. 

You let go of your dress and flick a piece of hair from your face, taking a sip from the martini. Hand on Javier's shoulder to stable yourself. Javier looks down to smile at his lap at your oblivion. “What?” You ask breathlessly, “It better be good, you know how I feel about Madonna.”

Javi glares down Drew’s face which is now devoid of color while his hand holds your bare back. Goosebumps rising against his palm when his fingertips trace the hem where the dress begins again. Javi drives, taking the opportunity to slide his hand right inside the front of your dress, holding your waist with his palm and his large fingers splaying across your pitted belly. His hand strained against the tight fabric. Javi knew he was protective of you, but this was nearly out of his character, holding you so shamelessly. “Drew was telling me you were flirting with him.”

Your smile drops slightly giving a tight browed look at the older man. “I was just being friendly.” 

Drew is floored, humiliated. “You asked me what I did for a living?”

Javier almost laughs at the desperation in the man’s voice. You scoff and Javier makes note to brace himself. You’ve been quite fiery today, first with Julian. Now that you’re a bit drunk Javier isn’t sure what to expect from you, regardless he’s a bit excited. Considering your sound of disbelief Javier knows he isn’t getting his hopes up. 

He takes a sip of his whiskey as he watches your eyes narrow. “And?” You bite.

Drew adjusts his suit jacket. “Typically when a woman alone at a bar asks a man what he does for a living, he's going to expect sex—“

“Uh-uh. Don’t try to paint this like I’m some lady of the night. You introduced yourself and I just asked what you did for work, small talk? Like how’s the weather?” You take a sip from your martini. 

The professor's nostrils flare his cheeks red. “ I offered you a drink—“

“Which I denied, I was trying to tell you I was waiting on my boyfriend and you cut me off to ask my age.” Your cheeks are blazing, maybe you were an angry drunk. Somehow it was the most fitting discovery Javier has made about you. 

“Alright, let’s just go back to the room.” Javi whispers into your side and you shoot him an angry glare. Removing his hand from your stomach, Javier is beyond turned on by that. What is it with him getting hard every time you reprimand him? 

“No—I’m not done talking.” Javier’s eyebrows shoot up and he bites back a smile before looking at the bartender, pointing to his cup beckoning him for a refill. 

Drew combs through his hair, “Listen woman, you come to bar half naked expect to be-“

Your jaw is agape. “Watch your fucking mouth.” Javier snaps, he’s unsure if he can just let you handle this and take the backseat anymore. The bartender grabs Javier’s drink and refills it. He wished he was in Laredo, he would’ve spun this losers jaw minutes ago. But you, you detach from Javier completely. 

“Listen—professor fuckface.” You wave a drunken finger in his face, “I don't know who you expect to fuck you but you better start aiming lower… actually how about you leave women alone in general–”

The man's face reddens and Javi decides he needs to prevent a real altercation. If the man lays a hand on you Javi can't promise he wont kill the man with his bare hands. Bad look for the DEA. “Alright it's time to go.” Javi stands and grabs your arm. You let out an annoyed huff, cursing out Javi now. 

“Maldito idiota! Javi I swear to god I did not flirt with that man!” You trip over your heels while he pulls you through the thickening crowd. Javier’s brows furrow, had you thought? “Even if I was single I have some standards!”

Javi laughs, pressing the elevator button. “I’m not upset with you baby.” He drops your arm and your glazed eyes soften, your lips cracking into a smile. Moving your hair out of your face from the distant wind on the rooftop.

You snake a hand around his waist when the elevator dings, the two of you walk in sync into the lift. “I just thought when you grabbed me to leave–”

“No-he was getting angry, I was just trying to avoid a real confrontation.” You frown, Javier lets you go to click the 4th floor button. Coming back to you, taking a wanton look at your figure in the dress. Your eyes are half lidded, he knows that look all too well. You take a step closer to him again, laying your hands flat on his jacket. Dusting off whatever you find on the leather. Getting on your tiptoes, he kisses you quick and chaste, parting as quick as it began. 

Your eyes narrow, your lips downturned. “I wore this for you.” It came out with a pout, annoyed with his sexless kiss. 

Javier chuckles at that, “Beyakka” He mocks you, knowing that sort of slang was unique to you and your family. “How much have you had to drink?”

You let out an aggressive eye roll and groan, “You keep asking me the same questions!” 

“I’m just concerned considering you would never admit to wearing anything specifically for me.” 

You shot him a glare, “Two martinis and 2 shots. I just feel buzzed if anything. I can handle my liquor.” Stepping apart from him you face forward, eyeing the declining floors. Javi bites away a smirk watching your skin rising with goosebumps. You shrug, “Just wanted to catch your attention is all.”

Javi chuckles, wrapping his arms around your waist. Hugging you from behind, holding your lithe form tight to his front. Craning his head into your shoulder, “You’ve got all my attention princesa.” His lips grazing your ear. Teasingly you giggle and wiggle your behind on his crotch, Javi drops his head into your neck. “Andrea–now's not the best…” He warns.

The elevator dings and you’re on your floor, you let out an annoyed groan and strut ahead of him. And it’s the way he could see the small dimples on your back and the tiniest hickey on your shoulder—he gives in. Pacing himself to walk ahead of you down the dimly lit hall, you let out a huff of frustration when he stops at your door. Patting his pocket for the keys, he unlocks the door and pushes you inside in a deft move. 

You nearly slip out a giggle but you’re tense the second he lays both hands on the dips of your waist. His broad form pressing against you from behind.

“Get on all fours.” His lips graze your exposed ear, throbbing intensely down below. You weren’t drunk, a bit buzzed, tipsy, loose. Irrelevant, all you knew is whatever was in that martini heightened your senses. You’d wanted to climb into Javi’s lap and make out with for hours like some depraved teen. 

Why lie, when Javier slid his hand into your dress in his protective hold you fought the urge to take a sinful seat on his thigh and release some tension in front of the professor. 

Horny was an understatement.

Without second thought you drop to your knees. Long brown hair pooling at the sides of your face, arching like a kitten before slightly straightening, Javi lets out a throaty grunt at that. Holy fuck were your cheeks hot, you bite a smile. It’s quiet, like Javi is figuring what he wants to do with you next. Fingers curling on the hotel rug, filthy, you were practically dripping. 

“Crawl to the bed. Don’t get on it.” 

You smirk, face hidden from him and you comply. A slight head rush developed from the position but you inch your way further into the room, knowing this position has your dress dipping lower almost ruining your lovely surprise. 

And he’s inching behind you, the lovely tune of his belt buckle jangling comes from behind and  you’re sickeningly close to letting out a whimper. Thankfully you make it to the door of the bed. You experimentally look over your shoulder. You nearly regret the decision because now your stomach is somehow twisting in more anticipation. He’s looking down at you with a hand rubbing himself, you want to release him, put him in your mouth like earlier. You want him to stop being cruel, he’s made you wait enough for him. “You look perfect, arch more, I want to see all of you querida.”

On display for him, only him you dip lower perching your behind up. It seems to do it for him because in a split second he’s bending down and wrapping his forearms on your lower stomach and lifting you weightless onto the bed above you. 

Thrown on your back you finally get to see all of him and god if the low look of desire isn’t the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen you don’t know what could come next. But oh, his palms push your knees to your chest and your lovely loose dress is pooling in bunches of fabric at your bent waist. Your aching cunt on full display for him, save the panties. And that look—right there. His face of realization, the slight tick of his jaw, twitch of his stache and the crease between his brows deepening—then his glance back up to me. 

“Dirty girl.” He grits, squeezing the inside of your thigh and oh he’s so close you couldn’t care to save face. “Dancing around all night with nothing on under your dress.” 

“Please fill me up—please just put it in Javi.”

He doesn’t acknowledge your pleas, his eyes are razor focused on your cunt and he drops to your knees. “I’m gonna eat you till you cry alright?” He kisses your inner thigh, hot and wet. 

You nod frantically, “O-okay.” It’s rushed and broken. A gasp rips through your chest when a tight slap hits your thigh, the skin rippling. 

“Say my name.” He demands. Kissing over the red mark on your thigh. 

“Yes Javier.” You whimper through gritted teeth, wanting to abandon the whole dress, just wanting to be nude to feel him completely. No time because his kisses begin to trail closer in approval. A centimeter apart each time until he’s there, you, still a leaky girl in front of him. Forgetting the sweet slow kisses, he goes for the kills. He consumes you.

You jolt almost immediately as his tongue starts off with lapping your clit. You’re wiggling and panting, your view just the top of his head and the grip he has on the top of your thighs. You’d frame it if you could, Javi just making a home for himself between your legs. And he’s moaning writhing too, you pulled to the edge of the bed while his knees stay sunken on the floor. He’s grinding his own hips into the bed and you whimper at the yearning pit you have to have him inside again. How had it been that you allowed your ex to skip over this part, with every suck and lick you were unraveling below him. 

“So soft, never getting over it.” He kisses your cunt softly to give himself space to praise. 

You smirk, your own hands groping at your clothed breasts. “Softer inside.” You jolt your hips a bit and Javi mumbles against your cunt before sinking his tongue into your tight hole and it shrinks around him, desperate for his cock. You had him twice today but there was something about being here with him that sent your libido on overdrive. It felt like a honeymoon, like the two of you were on a high you could never get down from. 

His fingers slide through, taking the place of his tongue and he dips two thick fingers inside of you, watches you squirm. “You’re mine, right querida?” There it is. That sweet desperation. The hand offered for reassurance, the two of you sure enjoyed hearing it as much as you enjoyed asking for it. 

Your brows screw, oh you were devastatingly close. God you were his, his, his—“Yours— oh fuck yes baby all yours. Yours, yours,yours.”

 Oh Javi likes that, he removes his fingers and they go back to the bottoms of your thighs, pushing your knees as far as they can to your chest. He doesn’t let up, he does as he promises because the stimulation is so much— you’re crying in pure bliss. 

His hot heavy tongue licks and flicks at your clit so aggressively— so skilled your stomach pits in jealousy. “Who-who taught you this— how do you do it so—“ Your body decides jealousy has no place here because-“I’m gonna cum—“

It isn’t fair to call it a warning because in an instant you’re dripping in come. His mouth slowing and lowering again to collect from where you release.  Leaving you wet kisses and sucks, the same way he kisses you above, he kisses you below. Your hands find his hair, forcing him back up to you. His mustache glistening while he smiles smugly at your withering pants and frantic hands. Hand falling to the back of his neck and tonguing him down. His wide body between your legs. Giving him sloppy drunk kisses, all tongue and teeth. And god you need him inside. 

He very obviously does too. His hardness embarrassingly evident through his pants. You slip a little moan—“Use your words, don’t know what you want with all those little noises.” He grits, kissing your cheek then below your ear, down your neck. Your hands roam his chest until you’re right above his unbuttoned pants. 

“I want you—I want you to fuck me like this.” You say—no-demand. The two of you hadn’t fucked missionary since the second time. You were feeling awfully depraved, you just wanted to sloppily kiss him while he rocked into you. 

He nods into your neck, sucking and nipping. “Anything-anything you want.” He whispers, and despite having him lick you to your climax nothing flips your stomach quite like this, like him leaving you sweet kisses and giving it to you your way. Too eager to strip down, your pull him from his jeans and spread your legs farther to give him access. “Put it in baby.” 

You blindly drag his cock between your folds while Javier attempts to lift his head to kiss you but the second you guide himself to prod your aching cunt his head falls. And with eyes pinched you feed him into the mouth. He lets out a groan so deep you feel his throat vibrating on your own shoulder. “Fucking perfect—so tight.” 

“Too big–” Warming him, your head is so light you could tell him you loved him and would never think twice. This is dangerously intimate. The words have been on the top of your tongue the entire day, can he tell? Will he taste it when he kisses you again? “Used to touch myself thinking of you.” You admit, what is it about him that makes your shame cease to exist? He moans at that and begins rocking into you. 

“Tell me more—“

“My ex never made me come—fuck—would go to the bathroom after and finish within minutes thinking of you.” Javi grumbles, quickening his pace. “Lucky your names were nearly the same, used to moan your name and he never noticed.”

“Jesus you’re killing me.” Javi kisses your neck some more and hits a spot so devastatingly deep from this angle you shriek in pleasure, another confession slipping your lips.

“Had this fantasy—would imagine you coming home to me—our home and letting you fuck me senseless. Whenever—ngh- you wanted.” He stutters into you, filling you so right. You could feel the bulbous head of his hitting right where you needed. “Pictured you taking care of me and would come so hard baby—“

His hand flattens on your lower stomach and he presses down, somehow tightening everything below. You let out a tiny whimper, “No more—gonna make me come too fast.” He whines his hips into you. Keeping himself slow and steady for a moment. It felt so good—so full you couldn’t give time to reel in the pillow talk confessions you so effortlessly spilled. How you would cry in shame when you were alone after the guilt kicked in. 

The midst of your pleasure, your eyes search the side of your boyfriend's face. A sudden wash of panic and dread filling your heart. 

Why do you have to leave? Why does everyone , take me with you Javi-

“Thought about you the whole time while I was gone, felt like Colombia became too real during that meeting.” He admits, planting a warm kiss to your shoulder, his pace so slow you feel something else swirl at the pit of your stomach. He leans on his elbow and slips his hand between you two. His fingers swirling lazily on your bundle of nerves. Words caught in your throat, please don’t leave me. I can't bare it. “Felipe suggested we just get married and go to Colombia together.” 

Your eyes jolt open and you sobered at that. You turn to look him in the eyes and there’s something there, that look you know. Adoration, hope, pleading? All three, you know it’s all three. What are you pleading for Javi, I can give it to you. “Yeah?” You whisper, achingly close to your second orgasm, you play it cool. You kiss his cheek quickly, “What’d you say?” There it is, eyes welling up and throat tight. He doesn’t seem to notice, he continues his lovely strokes and antagonizing traces on your clit. 

He’s silent until he isn’t. 

“Laughed it off you know—it’s irresponsible—unrealistic. Forget these people don’t know what it’s like back in Laredo.” He says brokenly, he’s close to you too. Your face drops, color drains from your face. You thank the dim lights of the room because you begin to tear. Burying your head into his neck, you whisper harder, to replace that dread that fills you. Oblivious to your reaction he complies with your request. And for a moment it feels so good you nearly forget. He’s removing his fingers from your clit and moving them to grip at your hip bone. Setting a brutal pace into you. And he’s back to kissing you, your eyes screw shut at the reminder that he’s real, he’s with you. That you love him so desperately, so complete, entire and whole you don’t know how you could find anyone else. 

I love you in a place where there’s no space or time. 

“I lo-“

“I never want to leave you.” He cuts before pressing into you hard and the both of you reach your peak. A head light crashing orgasm, his open mouth kisses drag to your ear where he moans, drawing out your momentary bliss. You squeeze around him so tightly, you could practically feel the spend you’re pulling from him. You’re leaking all over him, right to base and down to his balls. His hand on your hip coming up to your clothed breast with a firm as he slowly goes soft inside you. And you see white, keeping your mouth purely for kisses and whimpers, afraid of saying too much. 

Afraid of being too real for him. 

“Housekeeping is going to have a field day in this room.” He chuckles, planting a kiss right on the delicate arch of your cheekbone. So exhausted from it all, the car ride, the sex, the drinking—you giggle back. Hiding all the strange yearning you felt seconds ago.

“I’d quit my job.” Javi drops his head in your neck and grumbles there too. His palm still firmly placed on the swell of your breast through the black fabric. You look down at the sight. “So do you like the dress?”

He lifts his head to look at you, face all red and sweaty. You bring your hands up to trace the slopes and curves on him, how you loved his nose. Your nail traces from his temple to its strong arch to the top of nostrils where it’s soft. He gives you a lazy smirk when your finger finds his cupid's bow. “I’m still inside of you, you know that right?” Your brows shoot up and giggle at your own silly question. The two of you are chuckling and intertwined. Your finger turns to a palm as you cup his cheek in a hold. Just taking a look at him. Suddenly he's shy under your gaze, his eyes diverting from your own. 

As if being loved was too intimate for him. 

“You are the most handsome man I've ever known.” You admit, peering up for a second to kiss him chastly. The timid glance switches and he's back to being cocky ol’ Javi.

“Oh yeah?” He kisses you again, “Hmm… tell me more.”

You thumb his cheek, and he turns his head to the left to kiss his palm. “And I’ve always had this like… really big crush on you.” 

His eyes widened in fake shock. “Really?!” 

“Oh yeah… too bad you didn't like me back then.” You tease.

Javi shakes his head and removes himself from you. Your cunt makes a sound that warms your cheeks and he plops down next to you. “You love to alter the story–making it seem like it was some one sided thing.”

“Wasn't it?” You challenge. It was a mixture. Part of you still believed that it was only you. That you had crushed a bit too hard and he had just been a good friend, the kiss being a moment between two teenagers who were too horny for their own good. Then there was what was closest to the truth, that you had a devastatingly painful crush and that Javi had it too and couldn't conceptualize it because it developed while he was already with someone else. 

“I liked you so much I had to move away.” 

You shake your head in annoyance, sitting up in bed. Your dress falling back over your knees and the sight must be funny because Javier lets out a throaty chuckle at the sight of you. You crane your neck to look into the mirror at the corner of the room. You’re  met with your blowout tussled and your mascara streaked. “Not funny.” You frown and he reaches his arm up to swipe a thumb under your eye, cleaning whatever makeup you had left over. You in turn grip his wrist. “You liked me so much you pretended I didn't exist for six years.” You bite, and that's all it is, bite. His lips quirk and you're so happy the two of you are in a place to make light of it all. 

“I would have been saved from a whole lot of suffering if that were true.”

“You like to suffer.” Shaking your head and placing his hand back down to his chest. You bring your arms over your head to pull the halter of the dress down, stripping yourself nude in one quick pull, tossing the dress to the floor. Mindlessly you tuck yourself under the covers, rolling your neck and tossing your hair over one shoulder. You look back to Javi who has his jaw clenched and an unamused look. “What?”

He clears his throat and shakes his head. “Nothing. If I say what I want to, we'll never get any sleep.”

“We’re on vacation we can afford to lose some.” 

He grumbles a noise of disapproval before stripping himself down and tossing his clothes to the side. He settles in next to you, keeping a safe distance considering from what you saw he was getting a hard on already. “We can't. I have the last meeting early in the morning.”

Mid yawn, “Oh please, we can sleep after your meeting.”

Reaching over to shut off the lamp he mumbles something in Spanish about me being worse than a man. “I’ve got a surprise for you tomorrow.” 

Lips upturning in the dark, you couldn't care to make space. You scooch into him, laying your head right on his chest. “You got me a surprise.”

“Yes.” He says nonchalantly, almost grumpy and god you loved him.

[iheartpeppino]

Pizza My Heart AU Presents: The Spaghetti Family

Giuseppe "Peppino" Spaghetti I - The founder of Peppino's Pizza, he's Peppino and Maurice's father. A hard-working pizza chef who was very passionate about his Italian heritage and his craft, as well as passing on his knowledge to his children. He was known for having a kind personality. He died of heart failure when Peppino was almost 30 years old.

Donna Spaghetti - Peppino and Maurice's mama, a strikingly beautiful old lady in her 70's who's always down for excitement even at her age. Ever since her husband died, Donna has had a very active love life, going on dates with quite a number of men, some older than her, some younger. Peppino worries about his mama a lot, but Donna can more than handle herself, being an actual badass at fighting and self-defense. If you see old Donna Spaghetti taking off her earrings? RUN.

Giuseppe "Peppino" Spaghetti II - Our favorite anxious pizza chef, the current owner and operator of Peppino's Pizza. He was named after his father... or did he name himself after his father? Guess it depends on what version of the AU it is! Either way, Peppino turned out to be a lot like his dad, just with a lot more anxiety, PTSD and anger, and a worse economy to deal with. He also inherited his mother's fighting spirit.

Maurizio "Maurice" Spaghetti - Peppino's pessimistic, selfish, violent, and constantly angry twin brother who's been jealous of him since they were children. Because Peppino wanted to be just like their dad growing up, Maurice feels his father treated Peppino like the favorite child, so Maurice constantly bullies Peppino for his entire life. The worst thing he did was throw his Stargate DVD collection into a river. THE ENTIRE STARGATE COLLECTION ON DVD IS WORTH OVER $100 USD (yes, really!). FUCK YOU, MAURICE.

Alfredo "Freddy" Spaghetti - The third Spaghetti brother, known for wearing red, he's five years younger than Peppino and Maurice. A professional chef, he's employed at the fanciest Italian restaurant in town. Despite being very skilled, he can't make pizza to save his life, having extraordinarily bad luck with it. He envies Peppino for his natural pizza-making skills and the fact he owns his own business... even though Freddy makes way more money than Peppino does and has a better quality of life. Despite it all, Freddy does care about Peppino, and worries about him a lot, even if he thinks his friends are weirdos.

Gianna Spaghetti - The fourth and final Spaghetti sibling. A woman in her early 40's, Gianna is a punk who loves creepy and scary things and hates cute things. Apparently, anything cute makes her immediately want to smash it to pieces. She has no love for her older brothers since they were all too absorbed in their own lives to pay much attention to her growing up. She lives with Donna and helps take care of her. (Gianna is directly inspired by Giana from The Great Giana Sisters.)

Angela Spaghetti - Maurice's ex-wife, mother of Maurice Jr. Strongly resembles a young Bea Arthur, with mannerisms similar to Dorothy Zbornak from The Golden Girls. Angela kept her ex-husband's surname even after divorcing him because she still loves the rest of Maurice's family and encourages their son to maintain relationships with them. Angela regrets ever marrying Maurice and frequently refers to him as "a sorry bum with a gambling addiction whom I honestly pity". Her mother's name is Maria, who strongly resembles and acts like Sophia Petrillo from The Golden Girls.

Maurice Spaghetti Jr. - Maurice's ten-year-old son with Angela. Maurice Jr. is actually a very sweet and well-adjusted kid thanks in large part to his mom, but his dad is a deadbeat who doesn't spend time with him unless he's specifically asked to. Maurice tries to make up for his lack of parenting skills by buying expensive gifts for his son... or worse, passing off gifts from other people as if they were from him. Which includes gifts from Peppino. Maurice Jr. has no idea... he loves his dad, but he wishes he'd actually be a dad to him and not just an occasional gift-dispenser.

Nonna Spaghetti - Peppino and Maurice's very elderly grandmother on their father's side. Maurice has taken advantage of this poor lady multiple times by manipulating her into giving him money to spend on his gambling habit. Peppino knows about this, but feels powerless to do anything about it since he's afraid Maurice will retaliate against him. Nonna doesn't always remember what day it is... or even what year it is... but she loves her family members unconditionally and would do anything for them.

I wanted to wait to post this after drawing portraits of everyone, but I'm too impatient for that. I'll draw everyone when I actually have the energy to do so.

[valyalyon]

2 Along Chasm Ridge

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CRY Master List or #LYONCRY

DIVIDERS

CW: Main girl is in a religious cult, cult tactics are used, vague religious mentions, young bride marrying cult leader, humiliation of mother of bride by cult leader, SMUT, mentions of blood, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT. MDNI. 4.1K Words.

August 18, 2019.

All the families living in Chasm Ridge woke up early that Sunday morning to attend the wedding of their leader. By sunrise, most of the commune was standing outside the door to the church, waiting to be let in.

A few minutes after that, the head priest arrived and opened the doors. The first pew was exclusive to family and friends of the bride and groom, but every other pew was open to the public.

The church filled up as the priest took his place and the wedding party began to arrive.

Everyone in the church turned their attention to the priest as he began to speak, his old voice booming through the large church, “Our Holy King has called us all here to witness his wedding. Please rise for Cain Rey.”

All stood with one hive mind, numerous heads turning to the massive church doors, eyes focusing on the lone strong figure that walked in through the doors.

Each step he took was deafening, the whole cathedral shook and trembled under the weight of his power.

Seeing their King, some young women in the crowd blushed as they remembered their own intimate encounters with him.

He had been sleeping with a good handful of these 20+ year old girls living in the commune, but God would strike Cain down if he ever tried to recite any of their names.

He didn’t care about any of them, and he never did, so he would call them by the name of whatever flower he thought looked like the girl.

That was something his father had taught him, and he’d always said to “save your rose, marry her, love only her. Your wife is the most important decision you’ll make, and only a rose is fit to sustain the title.”

Cain walked through the church with a proud purpose on that day because the woman he was marrying was the rose he had always envisioned, and he had been lucky enough to find her.

He stopped at the altar, awaiting the rest of the party.

Next in line was the family of the bride and groom, but…

Well, the couple each lost a parent when they were teenagers and the commune’s former king Cephas had his funeral service held at this same church just the week before.

That left the mother of the bride, Beatrice Masson as the only family member to walk down the aisle. She walked slowly, in a red dress, holding onto a bouquet of pink roses, and smiling the crowd.

Cain wanted desperately to roll his eyes at the woman, but he kept a stoically neutral expression, moving towards her once she was closer.

In front of everyone, the man kissed his mother in law’s cheek, then guided her with his hand to her seat at the front of the pews in a private section for herself.

The mother stayed standing as Cain returned to his spot, watching his best man walk down the aisle with the maid of honor. Then, another groomsmen and another bridesmaid.

Everyone in the wedding party wore red except for Cain and his bride. The man was anxious to see her, whispering to his best man, “you seen her yet?”

“When we were all outside, yes… You’re making the right choice,” his buddy commented in a slight chuckle, “she’s way prettier than her sisters…”

Normally, the Holy King would have some righteous and angry response, but he was distracted as he heard the doors begin to open again.

The march began to play.

Ysabel felt nervous in a million ways in that moment, she knew how easy it could be for her to just pass out from the anxiety, but she ignored it all. She inhaled deeply, and smiled as she moved down the aisle.

All eyes were glued to the girl that had taken the King off the market, all judgements and envy out on full display in certain faces but no one dared say anything out loud.

It was true that the girl was beautiful, though.

Ysabel Solis was a short 18 year old woman, not even making it to five feet tall, with bronzed skin and natural fiery red hair. She had pale, baby blue eyes that were always so sensitive and sweet.

Her hair flowed naturally and at the top of her head she wore a crown laced with red roses but it was obscured by her veil.

Cain couldn’t take his deep blue eyes off the girl, just thinking she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen and that he had made the right choice.

Once Ysabel was closer, Cain stepped down, taking her hand and helping her up to their place at the altar.

He held her hand confidently, and he looked at her with eyes that killed every other woman in the room, but swept Ysabel off her feet. He whispered to her for a moment, “you’re amazing…”

The girl blushed at him but replied back in a similarly quiet voice, “no, you…”

Cain smiled and squeezed her fingers as the Priest began speaking. From there, vows soon started.

“You are my rose. You are my Holy Queen, the one meant to be at my side when I enter Heaven. I promise to always be your protector…”

“To stand by your side in all moments, and to always show you that I love you,” his confession came as no surprise to Ysabel, who was already falling so hard for him.

“I promise to love you, to praise you, to pray for you, and to be your home forever,” her clear blue eyes looked into his dark blues, “I worship you, I know your love to be the ultimate safety…”

“I promise to be forever yours, my Holy King,” Ysabel’s lips trembled slightly, her eyes watering as she finished and attempted to collect herself.

Then the Priest was asking, “Cain Rey, do you take Ysabel Solis to be your wife? To love and protect as long as you both shall live?”

“I do,” Cain nodded his head, his smile stuck on his face as he squeezed the girl’s hands slightly.

“And do you, Ysabel Solis, take Cain Rey to be your husband?” The priest turned his attention to the woman as he continued, “To love and worship as long as you both shall live?”

Ysabel nodded her head, smiling up at Cain as she spoke, “I do.”

The best man handed the priest the couple’s rings, as the old man continued to speak, “these rings are a physical symbol of Heaven awaiting Cain and Ysabel as they make this commitment to one another.”

“In their rings, their love, and now as husband and wife, they have been given the keys to a peaceful, fruitful eternity,” the man handed each ring to the opposite individual.

Cain placed Ysabel’s ring first, speaking as he did, “this ring is yours as a reminder that I only love you. I promise to love and protect you forever. I’m yours.”

Ysabel smiled when it was her turn, even as she shook a little, “this ring is yours as a reminder that I only love you. I promise to love and worship you forever. I’m yours.”

“It is my honor to pronounce Cain and Ysabel, husband and wife. Cain, you may kiss your bride,” the priest stepped aside to let the couple have their moment as the applause began thundering through the church.

Cain pulled Ysabel close, then dipped her as he kissed her in front of the commune. He kissed her sweetly, not trying to make her look bad in front of anyone.

The couple went down the aisle together as rose petals were thrown at the end of each pew for them.

They went down the aisle quickly because as the applause got louder, Cain looked down and had noticed there was a foggy-disconnected look in his Ysabel’s eyes.

He wasn’t pleased about it and wanted to get her outside to ask her why she was looking that way.

Cain opened the backdoor of the private carriage he booked for wedding day, and helped Ysabel into it. The girl’s eyes were wide when he got in with her, “what?”

“You got a private horse drawn carriage for our wedding?” Her voice was squeaky and her eyes were full of tears, “you put so much thought into everything…”

“I did,” Cain said confidently, but quickly remembered the earlier expression in her eyes, “you were disconnected going down the aisle. Why? Are you regretting your decision already?”

Ysabel shook her head, moving to sit beside her husband, “I’m not. I don’t have good experiences with loud noises… It was making me anxious.”

The man blinked, seeing how close she was and sinking into bad thoughts, “oh, that makes a lot of sense. You out did yourself… You’re beyond beautiful, I can’t describe it.”

“Does it make you want to do anything to me?” She smiled up at him shyly, her light blue eyes clear and sweet, but her question so sexual.

“You know it does but now I’m curious, because you sound like a little dog,” Cain raised his brows and held her face in between his hands, “what did your past boyfriends do to you?”

She tried to shake her head, but he had her in place, so she looked him in the eye apologetically, “I’m a virgin as far as I’ve never had vaginal-penis sex or anal sex…

“But I had an ex boyfriend and there was kissing, oral, a finger,” Ysabel told Cain anything he wanted to know, without question. He was her King, he was the one she listened to and bowed to.

Cain smiled and kissed her, holding her head as his lips parted hers.

The woman’s heart beat rapidly as she worried about overstepping and making Cain angry, but she touched his face with her small hands as she returned his kisses.

The couple spent the entire drive to the reception making out, culminating in a heated arrival for both of them.

When they arrived, everything they had planned began to fall through in one major way. By the time they became aware of the issue, the couple had been sitting at the head table for a few minutes.

No one was allowed to wear white to the wedding, so no one but Ysabel was… until Beatrice joined the reception in a wedding dress and drunk as can be.

The older woman was walking around, talking to guests and slurring as she spoke, “yes, she’s my daughter! No, I’m not her… Don’t we look alike though? Makes sense why he picked her!”

Cain was annoyed at the sight, and whispered to his groomsmen, “someone better fix her dress.”

Beside her husband, Ysabel was starting to notice her mother among the crowd, and she sighed regretfully when she saw what her mother was wearing.

The bride turned her attention to her bridesmaids, who all shared Beatrice as their mother but had different fathers, “did you two know she was planning on wearing that?”

“No, but let her. It’s not a big deal,” Ysabel’s eldest half-sister, Blanche, sounded annoyed that her younger sister was even mentioning it.

“It’s my wedding,” the woman replied with a subdued voice, her light blue eyes going to her other sister, “do you not see an issue?”

“She’s wearing a dress, Belle, big deal!” Brigitte’s reply was just as angry, and she rolled her eyes at the girl, “you’re always so dramatic.”

Ysabel didn’t even have time to really respond to her sisters, as she heard a commotion.

“Why! Why did you do that?” Beatrice cried loudly, she was a drunk mess on the floor and her white dress was stained red with wine in one spot.

Above the woman, Cain’s groomsmen stood with empty wine glasses and curious, confused looks.

“What are you wearing, Beatrice?” Cain’s voice spoke up from beside his wife as he began to stand up.

Ysabel watched as her mother stood up in utter distress, “They spilled wine on me!”

“My bride is sitting beside me,” Cain shouted so loud that Beatrice’s face gave away her fear, “if she’s sitting beside me, I should see no white dresses dancing at my wedding. If Ysabel stands, she’s the only one in a white dress in this room.”

“The dress isn’t white! It’s cream, and they shouldn’t have spilled wine on me! I’m your mother in law!” Beatrice, irate in her drunkenness, screamed back at her leader.

Cain grabbed a bottle of wine from a stand beside the wedding table. He walked over to the woman and shoved her to the ground, pouring the entire bottle over her dress, shouting to the crowd as he finished the bottle, “GET ME ANOTHER!”

Beatrice was screaming, crying, and apologizing to Cain, but his groomsmen were already running back with more bottles of wine which Cain angrily snatched away from them to pour over the woman, “who the hell are you back talking?”

“You could be put to death for screaming to me like that. Next time, remember you’re my mother in law, and shut your fucking mouth,” Cain poured a second bottle over any white parts of her dress.

“It’s a sin to ruin a man’s wedding and the moment you walk in cosplaying as a man’s bride is the moment you embarrass yourself.”

Cain’s friends handed out bottles of wine to members of the commune to drink.

The third bottle of wine that was poured on Beatrice was opened by a father, who shuffled over and dumped it out onto her dress.

Within milliseconds, all the bottles that had been handed out to members of the commune were popping open and immediately being thrown onto Beatrice.

It was hard to tell if it was overkill but the reality was that the crowd was used to Beatrice’s behavior.

She got away with so much when Cephas was in charge, but under Cain… everyone knew things would be much different.

In more than just that way.

Eventually, Beatrice stormed out, angrily, but silently.

Cain returned to the head table and saw his wife, his eyes softening slightly as he noticed her anxious wide-eyed expression.

He looked at Ysabel as he offered his hand to her, “I’m sorry about that. Let’s end early and go home?”

Ysabel nodded her head, and took her husband’s hand, following him.

…

Cain gave Ysabel a brief tour of the home when they arrived with the tour ending in the master bedroom, “Excuse me, by the way. I need to use the bathroom real quick… Drank a lot at the reception.”

“Spilled a lot more than you drank,” the sweet girl’s comment was timid, and she turned to examine their room as the man disappeared into the bathroom.

His voice faded into the master bathroom, “she deserved it. She sinned, she was punished.”

When her husband disappeared into the bathroom, the woman got onto her knees and began to pray.

Let me love you like a woman… let me shine like a diamond.

She clasped her hands together, closing her eyes, “Father, let Cain always love me and let me always love Cain.”

He wasn’t in the bathroom for long, returning to the room as he heard the girl’s prayers. Cain walked to her side and sat down on the edge of the bed, not making a sound until she was done with her prayer.

When her eyes opened, her husband’s voice came from her left, saying, “How do you feel about everything, Ysabel? Tell me, honestly.”

The man expected her to have some complaints about what happened to her mother during the wedding. He expected her to call it all too much, to say that he had gone too far for her.

Her sweet eyes met his deep blue ones, and she pouted just a bit, her lip trembling slightly, “honestly? So sad we didn’t have a first dance.”

So, Ysabel’s husband stood and reached his hand out to her.

Dance me through the panic until I’m gathered safely in…

The girl took it without question, and Cain pulled her into a slow dance. With every turn, the girl felt herself falling more in love.

They shared a fire that Ysabel didn’t really understand, but they started humming a song as they moved along the empty space in the room.

Let me see your beauty when the witnesses are gone…

Cain lead his wife in their first dance, but their bodies understood one another without any words.

She followed him so easily.

In one moment, when he turned his bride, her ass pressed just right against his crotch.

Let me feel you moving like they do in Babylon…

Ysabel, in feeling him, danced her body along his. She desired to please him, to be the best wife for him.

“Maybe you’re doing a little too much, my rose,” Cain inhaled sharply as he felt her ass grinding along his pants.

The girl pulled away, starting to walk away, but Cain pulled her back in, continuing their dance. This time, though, he started to help her out of her wedding dress.

Show me slowly what I only know the limits of and dance me to the end of love.

Ysabel turned to kiss him as her dress came off, and he was already leaning forward awaiting her. Their kiss was passionate, their tongues desperately trying to get to know each other better.

The bride unbuttoned Cain’s top as their kisses got more wet, saliva pooling between the two.

The man pulled his shirt off once the buttons had been undone by Ysabel, and he pulled her in by the waist, “I’m in love with you, Ysa, only you.”

“I love you, but you don’t mean that, unholy King,” the woman’s sweet voice teased the older man, and she fluttered her lashes up at him, “you’ve had so many women before me.”

“Yes, but I never loved any, and I won’t have any women after you, just you,” Cain lifted the girl easily and placed her on the bed to better ravage her.

He ate her out, wanting her to be wet, and hoping that he gave her better head than her ex.

Cain knew he was a bigger sinner than her, but he hated that anyone had touched her even a little bit. It was imperative for him to be the best at anything she’d ever felt, and anything she would feel in the future.

He never wanted to fail as a husband.

So his tongue worked in circles along her clit, then he pressed his thumb to it and began rubbing into her clit.

At the same time, his tongue began a trail down to her vagina, invading it with thirsty desire.

Ysabel moaned at every touch of his, especially as he ate her out. Her mind was racing, her fingers curling in his hair, “ohhh, Cain… feels sooo…”

The man pulled away, unbuckled his belt and took it off. When he looked down at the girl, laid on the bed, he wrapped the belt around her wrists and tightened it.

“What if I don’t want to be tied up?” Ysabel clutched her hands, looking up at Cain with a coy expression he’d never seen in a woman.

“What are you going to do? Complain? I think I can deal, I don’t mind hearing you talk,” the groom responded with a chuckle, then took off his pants and underwear.

The virgin bride’s eyes ran along her husband’s body, admiring his muscled form and then… He was easily ten inches, if not bigger. The woman was amazed.

“I could scream,” Ysabel mumbled as Cain approached her, spit flying down onto his cock that he stroked around the long shaft, “I’d be very loud.”

“I definitely don’t mind hearing you scream,” Cain replied with a chuckle, leaning down to kiss her on the mouth.

“You’re soo meaan, ahh,” the woman had started to protest just as he started to push his long, hard cock into her.

There was enough saliva between both bodies causing the sex to become passionate relatively quickly with Cain beginning to thrust his ten inches in to the small Ysabel faster each time.

She took every thrust with loud moans, her bound hands wrapped around her husband’s neck, and her lower body moving along to the feeling.

The young bride felt some pain from her first sexual experience, but she thought to embrace it would be better.

Every good woman was born to experience this pain for her husband, and how lucky was she that she got to marry a Leader, a religious figure, a very attractive man.

With each thrust, she rolled her hips along, panting and looking up at Cain with pleasure filled blue eyes.

His hands were greedy for her body, touching every surface of soft skin and kissing her every chance he got. At the same time, his lower body had a mind of its own.

Each thrust went harder, deeper. He felt the way her walls clutched around him, the tightness other worldly.

He knew Heaven was all theirs now and that there was no more looking back. From here on, only forward.

To Cain, it felt as if their souls were blending together, as if Ysabel’s body and her love were all made for him to enjoy but this moment…

This was the combining of souls that he knew would always be needed to rule over Chasm Ridge, and God had delivered this woman to him at the perfect time.

Ysabel was lost in her pleasure as she felt Cain speeding up inside her, her eyes closed and her head rolled back as she moaned happily.

“Fuck, I’ve got to fill you with my seed, I need it, I can’t pull out. Your pussy feels amazing, you feel unreal,” he leaned down to kiss the young woman, and she welcomed his lips.

His pace was intense, and Ysabel’s eyes were half open, her hips trying to match his every thrust with a well timed rhythm, “you do whatever you have to do…”

She let out another moan as his intensity drove her closer to the edge.

Then, she felt it.

The feeling of his cock pumping his load into her.

Torrents of gooey seed filled her womb and when she felt the final pumps of his cock, she began twitching and moaning against her groom’s still hard dick.

Cain groaned slightly, but thrusted deeper into the girl, making sure the cum got even deeper into her, “you’re the first woman I’ve ever cum inside of and I want you to really enjoy having my load in you, because I’m going to cum inside you every chance I get.”

Ysabel was coming back from another orgasmic peak, staring up at Cain as his thrusts continued.

“Ohh, Caaiin,” the girl moaned as another thrust caught her off guard, “are you just going to keep me as a sex toy?”

“For the rest of the night? Absolutely,” he littered her collarbone with kisses, rolling his hips against hers, “forever? Yes, but I’ll still let you live a life here and there… That way you get a break.”

Ysabel laughed as the man came up and the two shared another intimate kiss, as they fell into more sex.

…

When Cain fell asleep that night, it was sudden and immediately after his third nut into his new bride.

Ysabel went to the bathroom to pee.

She noted to herself that her new home was beautiful, and sat down on the toilet.

It took her a minute to force out the pee but when she did there was quite a lot. That made sense, she had also drunk during her wedding.

When she went to wipe, she immediately noticed that she had bled.

It made perfect sense to her though, Cain had been rougher than she had expected so of course he ended up causing her hymen to bleed.

She shook her head, not daring to think a bad thought about her husband. The girl cleaned herself with some soap and water, then returned to bed to join her husband.

Sorry for the delays in releasing this one!

I've been feeling like shit about myself and my writing lately so I've been writing very little and didn't want to post everything I had ready in case I ran out of stuff...

Regardless, I hope everyone enjoys this!

SONG REFERENCES

Let Me Love You Like a Woman by Lana del Rey

Dance Me to the End of Love by The Civil Wars

[fortunatelydelightfulstarfish]

TW: HEADCANONS😱😱😱😱

topic: inside out emotions romance edition

i can't think of a proper way to word the topic. I'd be a massive joy nd anxiety shipper if I didn't ship fear x anxiety ...... DUDDEEEEEEE WHAT IF IT WAS LIKE A POLY THING??? SHOULD I DRAW THAT????? i might. joy would ALWAYS be managing fear and anxietys dumbasses though so idk if she would be very happy in it. fear and anxiety makes panic!! I might not.

I'm gonna make up my own thing. bare with me guys. IN MY OPINION⬇️⬇️

embarrassment and sadness have their own "thing" going on

envy and ennui have a younger/older sister dynamic

and here's the big one.

fear is head over heels for anxiety (that was made very clear in the movie💀), anger likes joy, anxiety LIKES joy (all romantically obviously), and joy sees everyone as her (best) friend. fear knows about how much anxiety likes joy and he always tries to prove to her that he's better than joy. his way of doing this is always helping and being extra cool / nice when in her presence and *always* bringing her up, as well as his body language around her.. anxiety has taken quite a notice to it. she can read every possible meaning of peoples body language too so that must be fun.

(btw anger hasn't told anyone his honest thoughts about joy and joy hasn't told anyone she doesn't care for romance)

anxiety noticed that anger started taking quite an interest in joy (the only evidence she has that anger likes joy is the looks he gives her a bit more than normal) and due to her assumptions feels like she has to compete with anger; always trying to impress joy and overworking herself to try and make joy like her. and she feels it works (for a bit) because joy gives her praise and attention, but that's how she acts when anyone does anything that impresses her in the slightest. after realizing that, anxiety figures she's not special and doesn't mean shit to joy so she doesnt try as hard as she used to. but she is jealous of joy and anger whenever she sees the pair conversate. anyways, now that joys off the table, she realizes she still honestly wants to feel like she's special to someone. then she starts thinking about fear. she has her doubts but eventually decides she should listen to and give fear a chance. little did anxiety know all this time that joy isn't interested in romantic relationships and sees everyone as a friend (as previously stated), while anger labels his feelings towards joy as small, stupid, and unimportant. to be with joy or to not be with joy; it doesn't matter much to him..................atleast that's what he's convinced himself

for disgust, she's not romantically interested in anyone in hq. nobody will ever beat lance.

ok ty guys for the read!!

[ghost--girlfriend]

U SHIP WITH AN INSIDE OUT CHR /POS????????i love inside out SO much also envy is a familial fo of mine >u< (twin sis! my si is love bc theyre 2 sides of the same coin to me) idk if we're muts so im a lil shy to go off anon but i just wanted to send my support hehe

(dont tell her i told u but anxiety is currently pacing back and forth trying to come up with the best plan she can so she can kiss u without being awkward and too sudden and whatnot)

YEAH I DO :DDD!!!!! it's just been about a week n I haven't posted too much about Anxiety but I've got a lil comic about our confession out egehe

AHHH INSIDE OUT IS SO GOOODDDD it's been like the ONLY thing I've been thinking about lately!!! Because ohmygosh!!!!!!!!!! It's AMAZING <3 AND ENVY + LOVE THATS AWESOME LIKE!! PERFECT TWO SIDES TO THE SAME COIN YEAHH<33 she thinks you're the coolest sister ever and Envys been trying to emulate you a lil I hear...!

Aahgsjdhkfikahdndbdbdndbdnfndohmygoshhh she wouldd<33@@@!!!!! Anxiety sweetie pie you can just ask ya goober <3!