#enjoy a brief respite

[bhaalsdeepbat]

Astarion and Karlach are perfect foils showing how trauma from having autonomy ripped from you, your body forcibly changed, and then used as a pawn serving a master can present wildly different, but still with that same under layer of RAGE.

[donuts4evry1]

Sorry for being gone so long I’m hyperfixating over wonderlands x showtime project sekai

[gender-euphowrya]

the notion of "rainbow capitalism" has actually fucking rotted people's brains

[impeakcharacterdesign]

Just the Tip

— Thomas Hewitt x Fem!Reader —

MDNI!!!

Summary: It’s the 1960s and Luda Mae frowns upon premarital sex like any good Christian woman. You and Tommy are young, hot, and in love but the only problem is that Tommy was raised to wait until marriage and never lets you two go any further than kissing and some groping.

But the devil lives in the hot Texan sun and even God takes a break from the summer heat.

Notes: this is super short, just pure smut, self indulgent I’m obsessed with big boy Tommy 😭😭😭 i swear I’m working on part 2 of my sister Sinclair fic but Tommy has me in a choke hold and I needed an outlet.

No TW that I can think of other than bad smut and maybe ??? Coercion??? Cause Tommy wants to be a good boy and stop before y’all go too far but you flash him and then he’s absolutely 100% in. A bit of religious stuff, period typical sexism but vaguely. Let me know if I should add anything else and I’ll get right on it. Reader isn’t ever referred to using “she/her” pronouns but is described as having breasts and does have female genitalia so I tagged it fem reader to be safe

Enjoy!!!

The early morning sun burned, chasing away what little cool air remained of the night before. While the barn shaded you from the unforgiving sun and hid you from disapproving eyes — or lecherous in the case of the older men of the family — it also trapped in the heat your two bodies gave off.

Thomas pressed his open mouth to your own, tongue swiping over your teeth eager to taste you. Your hands gripped his dark hair, ruining any half-effort attempt he had made earlier in the day to smooth down his unruly hair. He held you in his arms, body pressed tightly against him in an attempt to get as close as possible, his large frame hiding you even further from prying eyes than the shadowed corners of the old barn. The kiss was deep and hungry and served as a brief respite from Luda Maes ever watching eyes. While she had been fine with you living with the family before you and Tommy were married, she forbade you from sharing a room or being intimate, a rule she absolutely refused to budge on and one that Uncle Charlie took a strange glee in ribbing you about. But much like the Texan heat, the heated looks you gave each other were unavoidable and only grew hotter as the summer days went on. Luda Mae wanted to wait until the following spring to make your union official but at the rate the town was drying up, there wouldn't even be a priest to officiate the ceremony, much less any guest to attend. You highly doubted anyone outside of the family would want to witness your union anyway but still, Luda Mae didn't want the few who would to get wise and start counting months.

These stolen moments in the barn were as good as you could get — and by god were they good.

Tommy’s large hands groped at your breasts, pawing roughy at your nipples through the worn fabric of your old dress. It wasn’t long before you found yourself in the familiar position of being sprawled out on the barn floor, coarse hay a discomfort you had long learned to endure for the sake of pleasure.

You desperately thrust your sex up onto his growing bulge, whining when he groaned and pinned your hips with his own, preventing you from getting your desired stimulation. “Please Tommy,” you beg, lips separating, “We don’t have to do too much, I just wanna touch you.” You press open-mouthed kisses to his neck, pulling softly at the flesh with your teeth and tongue dragging across the bites to taste the salt on his skin. Your hands eagerly worked to untuck his faded green shirt and wrap around him, roaming the vast expanse of his back. His whole body shuddered in your arms, an attempt to hold back from eating you whole.

You know Thomas will put an end to your romp soon, the tense lines of his shoulders and the way he shuts his eyes a sign that he's reaching his limit, that if you two don't stop now you won't be able to stop — but that’s exactly what you want.

You're tired of holding back, of this constant edging you have to endure when you’re in his presence and it gets harder every day. Just yesterday afternoon, Uncle Charlie sprayed Tommy with the hose, telling him that he was filthy and needed to get out of those clothes before he went inside. Watching as he undressed by the back door so that you could put his clothes on the line to dry had nearly given you a heatstroke — and if Charlie’s leering grin was any clue, you swear he did it on purpose in an attempt to rile you up. You ran off before you sinned right there in the yard, the memory of Thomas's shirt clinging to his arms, his chest glistening with water had kept you company well into the night.

So before Tommy puts a stop to your roll in the hay you make your move. You lift your dress up past your breast and expose yourself to him, you can see his breath stutter in his chest, this was quickly becoming the farthest you two had ever gone.

“Just watch me, Tommy, watch me,” you say breathlessly.

And he does, he sits on his haunches like a predator, his engorged cock straining against his pants and imagining just a taste has your tongue darting out to wet your lips, his gaze fixated on the movement.

Sliding your panties off your legs, your fingers dip briefly into your wet hole, gathering slick to rub onto your clit. At the very first touch, you let out a shuddering breath and you watch as his shoulders heave.

You begin rubbing your clit at an intense pace already turned on from the earlier heavy petting, not once breaking eye contact with Thomas as you do. With each moan you muffle you see his eyes grow darker with desire breathing with his mouth open as though he could taste your scent in the air. When he finally lets his cock spring free you let out your loudest moan yet. It’s better than you ever thought. His cock is thick and heavy, drooping slightly under its own weight but still undeniably firm. It curves slightly and you imagine that if it was inside you it would scrape against your walls in a way you've never been able to do with just your fingers.

Thomas grips his cock firmly and gives it a few tugs, eyes alternating between hungrily drinking in the sight of your blissed-out expression and your dripping pussy. You buck your hips, desperate to press your clit against your fingers and Thomas jerks his length even faster, rubbing his tip and spreading his precum on his hand.

God, you wished it was you that was touching him.

Thomas settles onto his knees and after a brief hesitation begins to shuffle closer to you. The sight of him crawling to you on his knees with his dripping length in hand made your pussy clench around nothing and you let out a whimper. You remove your fingers from your clit, feeling the heat radiating from his cock as he settles on top of you, legs spreading around his waist, your hips slightly raised and resting on his thighs.

The tip hesitantly pressed against your clit and your moan fills the small space before you can suppress it. This was better than you were hoping and it felt as though you were pressing against the boundaries the lord had set for you. Tommy’s eyes find yours looking for reassurance, asking without words, “Do you think this is okay?”

You find enough comprehension in your lust-addled brain to come up with a coherent answer, “It should be fine, I think,” you stammer out, “I mean, it’s not like — not like you’re putting it in so, it should be fine.”

You’re not overly familiar with the word of God outside of Sunday services and Luda Mae’s lectures, both of which you were forced to attend and spent tuning out in favor of watching the sweat build on Tommy’s brow while he worked through the window.

You think that if God could feel the weight of Thomas like you did, feel the heat like you could, you think he’d forgive the sin of your act.

It seems like that was all the reassurance that Thomas needed because no sooner than the words fumbled their way out of your mouth that he begins to drag the length of his cock against your slit.

God, if this is what hell was supposed to be like, burning and full of decadence, then perhaps you didn’t mind being a sinner.

The way he ruts against you is euphoric. Heavy breaths escape you both and you can’t help the words that spill from your lips.

“God, Tommy, I wish you would put it inside me,” you whine out “‘wanna feel your fat cock in my pussy, wanna get filled,” you might as well be begging at this point, and Tommy's increases his pace to the point that you think he wants the same thing, that he’s desperate to thrust into you rather than against you and —

And then the tip of his cock catches on your entrance and you both stop breathing.

“Maybe — Maybe it doesn’t count.” You stammer out, “It didn’t go in and it’s just the tip, and I don’t think that the tip counts” With the slightest twitch of his hips the tip of his cock has slipped inside.

"It's - it's just the tip it's fine” Your words sound empty even to you but the reassurance is all Tommy needs to push forward and let the head of his cock slide into your welcoming heat

His soul nearly leaves his body when he feels your raw pussy on the head of his cock. He jerks his length furiously and your fingers begin to move against your clit again, eager to meet your high with Thomas.

But it’s not enough. He was right there, right there just one push of his hips he’d be right where you needed him

“Please Tommy” Canting your hips slightly so the tip begins to dig deeper into you, you begin to plead once more, “wanna feel you fill me up, wanna remember the shape of your cock please”

Thomas feels years of control break at your words and with one swing of his hips, he bottoms out instantly. You feel like you've been punched in the gut as the air rushes out of you and you let out a sound like a wounded animal. Tommy stays still deep inside you, shaking and heaving, absolutely drunk on the feeling of your soaked walls clenching vigorously around his length.

You feel full in a way you've never thought possible. His length throbs, its girth stretching you in a way that burns.

When he finally starts thrusting, you’re not ready. He’s like a man possessed, solely focused on the feel of you around him, your skin pressed against his, his blood pounding in his ears.

“Wait— Tommy, ah, slow — slow down, oh god!” You can’t hold back your moans and he can’t stop, both fully engrossed in the feel of each other with no control over your own lust. Thomas crashes his lips onto yours in a halfhearted attempt to keep down your moans, it’s sloppy, clashing teeth and drooling tongues, spit escaping your lips, unlike any you’ve shared before.

This is completely different from what you’ve imagined your first time together would be like. It’s not your wedding night, you're laying on the dirty barn floor and there’s absolutely nothing gentle about the way Tommy is ravaging you. Your pussy is sopping wet and with every thrust, it lets out an embarrassing squelch, your juices and Tommy’s pre-cum leak down your ass and make a sticky mess in his dark pubes.

He doesn’t stop even as your walls spasm around him, cumming on his cock and digging your nails into his strong back. He works you through your orgasm even as your mouth clumsily forms the words to beg for him to slow down or to give you a moment. It’s too much, the sensations completely overloading your brain and all you can do is hold on tightly to him, lost in the ecstasy of your release.

Thomas lets out a deep, guttural groan as he cums, hips stuttering as he bullies his fat cock into the deepest part of your sex, filling you to the brim and your vision goes white.

Boneless, neither one of you makes a move to separate from the other, so thoroughly satisfied and content to lie where you are holding each other, Thomas’s softening cocking slipping out of you and spilling his release onto the ground.

His weight on you is comforting, you gently press kisses to his face and bask in the way his heavy breaths caress your sweaty skin.

“I love you.” You whisper into the shell of his ear and he squeezes you against him, repeating the words in his garbled voice the best he could. Your love is just for the two of you, no one else had a place in your world, no one else had the right to peak in on your affection or gawk at your differences.

This moment in time was just for the two of you.

“Thomas! Where the hell are ya, boy!”

Well, until Uncle Charlie’s voice brought you back down to reality.

[swordgrace]

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐑 𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 — 𝐈𝐈.

༺ jacaerys velaryon x fem!reader.

SYNOPSIS: a library on dragonstone, a flight on dragonback, and a tour of aegon’s garden — your growing bond with jacaerys continues to grow amidst the looming shadow of war.

note: jacaerys is nineteen, reader is eighteen. I took creative liberties with Dragonstone & if you are interested in reading more about Aegon’s Garden, click here.

༺ 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄.

༆ 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄.

༺ FORMAT: one-shot — series, originally a request.

༺ WORD COUNT: 13.1K.

༺ WARNINGS: SMUT (mdni), friends to lovers, sexual inexperience, risky sex, sex in a public location (the beach), p in v sex (unprotected), missionary position, riding (reader on top), lots of kissing and sweeter antics, srisk of getting caught, handjob, vaginal fingering, clit play, hair pulling kink, neck kissing, tiddy sucking, desperate jace, confession of feelings, romantic rides on dragonback, romantic garden strolls. Mild canon divergence. Again, Jacaerys is a sweet lover who is all wrapped up in the reader.

༺ AUTHOR’S NOTE: We’re back! I am so excited to announce that this will now be a series! I am aiming to push out weekly uploads that will follow the storyline of S2. I am so, SO excited to keep writing and delivering Jace content! Next part will definitely be more angsty, and the angst will only ramp up as the series progresses. Thank you to everyone who is reading and supporting my work, it means the world to me! I hope you all enjoy! ❤️

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐢𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐚𝐰𝐧, dark curls disheveled and tossed around his head like some halo. The freckles along his back reminded you of a fawn, a tawny hue, hundreds of them smattered across his back.

The warmth of his body nestled to yours, his arm draped across your midsection, fingers idly gripping at your side, as if you might drift away during slumber. He was pretty when he slept, the stress in his face no longer prevalent, muscles no longer coiled with tension.

You didn’t want him to go — you wanted him here, tangled around you, a sight that would be burned into your mind with each passing thought. Yet, duty prevented him from staying, and it prevented you from keeping him here.

“Jacaerys,” You whispered, gently rousing him from his deep sleep. If he were to look inconspicuous, it would be best if he returned to his quarters before the whole of Dragonstone began to awake. “It’s dawn.”

Two words he never wanted to hear — and if the world turned in his favor, he would simply bring you close and fall back asleep. Unfortunately, it wasn’t an option for him. He lifted his head, groggy yet happy, smiling at you as he would a lover.

“I wish that I did not have to leave,” He murmured, reaching for your face, thumb tracing the delicate slope of your jaw. You knew that he was earnest, meaningful in his words — you understood his station. “I should get dressed.” Jace sighed, rolling from the sanctuary of your bed.

You watched, enraptured as he redressed himself, clad in the billowing tunic he wore last night, like a gallant prince ripped straight from a fairytale. You slid into the sleek gossamer of your evening robe, feeling the weight of reality weigh heavy upon you.

He turned, pressing a lingering kiss against your forehead. It was tinged with melancholy, with a longing to stay by your side, yet it wasn’t possible — not now. He held you for a moment longer, basking in your beauty, in the brilliance of your presence.

“I will see you soon, my Prince.”

𝐒𝐦𝐨𝐤𝐲 𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐬, 𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐞’𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐥𝐞.

In the humble glow of your chambers, you stood upon the small terrace, one that overlooked Blackwater Bay, far within the distance. It was a brief respite from your duties — the only time that allowed you proper contemplation.

As tensions grew, bubbling into a seething broil, you often noticed the tenuous frustration etched into Jace’s features — he wore it like a shroud, unable to keep from expressing his own disdain. With the Council urging Rhaenyra to act, to thrust the realm into war with the use of dragons, those closest to her felt the sting of her persuasion for peace.

The forlorn turmoil you felt from Rhaenyra came in waves — after Daemon had departed for an uncharted destination in the fallout of his spat with the Queen, you knew the weight of duty she was under. Jacaerys had adapted in Daemon’s absence, attempting to take the reins of leadership, or what was left of it.

It felt as if you were on a vessel without proper direction, being forced into tempestuous waters by a powerful gust of wind. Whatever came next, you could feel the uncertainty, the mounting stress.

You spent much of your morning in the presence of Elinda and Queen Rhaenyra, tending to Aegon and Viserys. The latter half was spent on the spine of Dragonstone, the massive wall of a walkway that led toward the rest of the island.

The strolls along the ramparts, the Dragon’s Tail, as you’d come to learn, often gave you much to consider, a place to allow your thoughts a clear sanctuary. Saltwater air, the hum of the beach, the clear horizon of a cloud-speckled sky — there was nothing like it.

Through the growing fog of war, your newfound relationship with Jacaerys had kept you afloat. After your tryst two nights prior, the atmosphere had shifted drastically, from cordial and friendly to romantic and intimate. You stole glances at him whenever you could, fleeting smiles reserved only for his eyes.

You hadn’t been able to kiss him since the morning he left your bed, but you had a feeling that an opportunity would present itself. With Daemon’s absence, you feared to leave Rhaenyra alone, but Elinda had offered to take watch should anything happen.

With your father briefly away to Crackclaw Point in order to amass funds for potential armies as the Master of Coin, it left you with only a handful to speak to. The peninsula that jutted out into the Narrow Sea was across the bay from Dragonstone — a fair distance, but not enough to cause you any worry.

The afternoon was uneventful and dismal at best, with those scurrying about the castle grounds. Shipments from Driftmark came in from several of their vessels, bringing food and supplies to Dragonstone. The obsidian castle was a gorgeous place — and you’d only scratched the surface in terms of exploration.

Jacaerys had spoken of Aegon’s Garden during the night you shared together, vowing to take you there should there be a lull in the chaos. You admired his loyalty to his mother, and you watched him brave the encroaching storm that was the Small Council.

Aimless wandering led you to the library within Dragonstone, an impressive architectural feat of scaling ceilings, with great stone staircases and many walls lined with scrolls and tomes alike. It was quiet when you entered through the doors, the halls illuminated by natural sunlight and the flickering of braziers and torches.

A familiar voice made your heart soar, when you realized that Jacaerys was here, too. He was accompanied by Joffrey and a handmaiden, one that patiently waited by the wayside for the princes to finish their time spent together.

The gentle timbre of Jace’s voice brought you a sense of peace, one that became increasingly harder to find with the inevitability of war. He was reading to Joffrey, hovering over his younger brother like a dutiful scholar. With Lucerys gone, his protectiveness was now clear as day, seeping into every bone within his body.

As soon as your footsteps fell across the stone floor, Jacaerys’s eyes drifted from the mountain of texts surrounding him to you — his smile was unmistakable. Something warm touched his gaze when your eyes locked together, prompting you to approach the table with a spring in your step.

“Lady Celtigar,” If it weren’t for the presence of his brother and his caretaker, he would’ve collected you into his arms for a kiss, even if the setting was somewhat risky. Jace couldn’t stop thinking about you — you occupied his every thought, at the forefront of his mind. “You are welcome to join us.”

Joffrey’s sudden excitement flourished to life when he saw you, and you watched as the little boy rushed out of his seat to come leaping into your arms. “I missed you!” He cried, little fists beating against your shoulders as he clung to you, mop of dark tresses bouncing with each movement.

“My Prince,” You beamed, scooping Joffrey up with ease as you held him close, returning his hug as you kept him aloft within one arm. “I’ve missed you too. What are you and your big brother up to, hm? You should be mindful of his lessons. He is a talented teacher.” Jace’s expression turned crimson at your playful compliment.

“I’m reading,” Joffrey explained as any child would, in a whimsical way that made little sense. Jacaerys was attempting to pass on High Valyrian to his sibling, given that he would be the Prince of Driftmark someday — the blood of Old Valyria lived within him. “Reading about dragons.”

Curious, your gaze flickered toward Jace as you approached the slab of stone, lowering yourself upon the benches beside it. Joffrey hadn’t left your lap, grabbing one of the books as he pointed to an illustration of a massive dragon with black scales.

You weren’t well-versed in the history of House Targaryen, though you suspected that Jacaerys would be capable of filling you in. “Forgive me, but I am not familiar with the history of the Targaryens. I assume that this is an ancestral dragon?” You inquired, mostly to Jace.

“Balerion the Black Dread, mount of Aegon the Conqueror,” Jace replied, palm perched atop the open pages of a dusty tome, parchment old and weathered. He enjoyed reading and the histories just as much as swordplay and dragon-riding. “I suppose that’s another thing I’ll have to teach you about.”

Again, you were smitten, unable to hide your flustered smile as you cleared your throat. “Will it come after your lessons in High Valyrian?” You chimed, sitting idly as Joffrey pulled at your hair and draped his head over your shoulder. The boy was a little restless, not that you could blame him.

Jacaerys shared your sweet sentiments, smiling just as you did before he fell quiet. As much as he wanted to regale you with gallant words and compliments, he wouldn’t dare do it in front of the old maid. Instead, he rounded the table, pressing a hand against Joffrey’s head in a comforting manner. “It seems that you’re overdue for a nap, Joff.”

Joffrey whined in protest, brows furrowing together as he buried his face into your shoulder. He seemed to tighten his hold with defiance, peering up at his brother through the frame of his thick, dark hair. “No.” He protested, wrapping his arms around your neck.

“She won’t go anywhere, brother. I promise.” Jacaerys murmured, gingerly attempting to untangle his sibling from you. He was gentle, ruffling Joffrey’s hair in the process before kissing his forehead. “Next time, you can take her to see Tyraxes.”

A string of mumbled, childish ‘no’s’ escaped him, but before he could do anything rash, the handmaiden retrieved him. “Off to bed with you, little Prince.” She mumbled, taking him out of your arms as she retreated from the library with Joffrey in-tow.

The two of you watched her go, and admittedly, you were rather curious about the amount of books he had around him. “Heavy reading day?” You asked, observing in enraptured silence as Jacaerys moved to sit beside you, relocating his books to adjust to his new place.

“Something to keep me preoccupied,” He confessed, shamelessly keeping close to you. His handsome features were basked within orange firelight, reaching his dark-brown eyes. The smattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose seemed more pronounced than ever. “The tension continues to grow sour as of late.”

You couldn’t help but feel concerned for Jacaerys, who had the weight of a kingdom upon his shoulders, including his mother. “With Daemon leaving, it has put a horrible strain upon your mother. She bares it well, but I know how much it worries her.”

Rhaenyra meant a great deal to you. You had come into her service just before the betrayal committed against her by the usurper, Aegon. House Celtigar had faithfully safeguarded the peninsula and the waters near Dragonstone for several decades, you knew that your father would never betray his oath.

Jace felt a twinge of irritation when you mentioned Daemon. He had taken him under his wing, treated him like a son, but he was also impulsive with a raging streak of arrogance and haughtiness. That recklessness often drained his mother half to death.

“He will return,” Jacaerys exhaled, maintaining an aura of calm despite his inner worry. He didn’t want to be afraid in front of you, but deep down, he knew that you wouldn’t judge him harshly for it. It was in your nature to be kind and without an ounce of anger. “He always does. Daemon loves my mother dearly.”

His devotion to Rhaenyra was twisted in some ways, perhaps, but he would always serve her. He pledged her Queen of the Seven Kingdoms before a host of followers, and it wasn’t something Daemon would toss away. Nevertheless, Jacaerys hoped that he would return swiftly.

With a comforting touch, you squeezed his bicep through his tunic, offering him a kind smile. “Whatever you need, I am here for you. I understand what pressure you are under, with Daemon away.” You could not fully grasp the true heaviness of leadership, but you could certainly try, for Jace’s sake.

How fortunate he was to have you — truly, a blessing sent from the Gods. There wasn’t a woman more thoughtful than you, that much he knew. He looked upon your visage with a sweet ardor, leaning inward to press a chaste kiss against your temple. He missed you in these last few days, missed your warmth.

“You can rely on me for the very same,” Jace uttered, planting another kiss on your cheek. It was oozing with affection, an affection that he solely reserved for you. “My heart belongs with you.” His voice was a feather-light caress, overflowing with adoration.

If it weren’t for your underlying fear of someone seeing you so close with the Prince of Dragonstone, you would’ve kissed him. You’d been thinking about it since your last meeting. “As does mine, Jacaerys.” You hummed, noticing his smile — it reached his eyes.

A comfortable silence lingered between the both of you, one tinged with the warmth of youthful amity. Jace’s brown-hued stare bored right into you, crinkles forming at either corner of his eyes. Every detail of you was unmatched, delicate and sublime.

“Are you aware that you are the most beautiful woman in the Seven Kingdoms?” He mused, nose wrinkling with amusement when you playfully shoved at his arm. Jacaerys returned to his books, sliding it over for it to sit between the both of you.

A wave of heat flooded through you, reaching your visage as it crawled along your skin. “Jacaerys,” You mumbled, brows knitting together. His softly-spoken compliments were enough to make you swoon. “Just the Seven Kingdoms?” You teased, head canting to one side.

Jace’s lips twitched into a faint grin before he nudged your leg with his knee, his tousled curls bouncing atop his head. “If I must proclaim your allure before the whole of the Realm, I will.” He countered, the atmosphere lighthearted and amiable.

“Be careful, or I might hold you to it.” A fondness crept into your tone, gaze softening as you caught sight of his rose-colored visage. You giggled, leaning over the table to have a look at the book he had strewn about.

“A history of my house, my ancestors,” Jacaerys explained, delighted for you to indulge in all of his old scripts and tomes. He loved to read just as much as he enjoyed swordplay. “It’s easy to become lost in this pile of pages.”

“You do love your histories,” You mused, tapping a weathered image of what Maesters depicted as Aegon the Conqueror. “This is Balerion’s rider, you said?” You inquired, placing a hand beneath your chin.

“Aegon the Conqueror was born here, in this very castle. Dragonstone has seen plenty since the Conquering. Sometimes it amazes me that we sit within the very same halls he once roamed.” Jacaerys’s countenance lit up whenever he spoke of history, something he held a great passion for.

House Celtigar shared the blood of Old Valyria, yet were considered the lowest in nobility from those houses that emerged from the Doom. The power and influence your House held paled in comparison to that of the Targaryens and Velaryons.

“My father used to shower me with tales of our House from before the Doom, to Aegon, and to now,” You replied, flipping through some of the dust-laden pages. The spine rattled in protest, parchment weathered and well-worn from constant use and age. “We are not nearly as noteworthy as dragonriders.”

Jacaerys nearly protested on your own behalf, but you seemed entirely unbothered, smiling to yourself as you roamed through the bulk of the book. Many of the illustrations and ink had faded with time, but you quite enjoyed the content.

He wondered if your father would agree to a betrothal — and his heart immediately sank into his stomach. Jacaerys hadn’t considered how his mother would feel about it, but he couldn’t let that stay his hand from making you his wife.

The thought had crossed his mind a multitude of times since he laid with you, and now, it had taken root, blossoming into more than a dream. It would take plenty of deliberation, but Jacaerys hadn’t felt so certain about anything before.

House Celtigar was of Valyrian descent, but lesser known on all fronts. Dragonriders and masters of the tide overshadowed everything else. “Your House has Valyrian blood,” Jace began, visibly intrigued. “Your father made a point of it during a council meeting.”

A burst of laughter escaped you, nose wrinkling with amusement. “He enjoys reminding everyone with every chance he gets,” You snickered, gaze flickering over the rest of the books present. Many were historical, but one belonged to a Maester — Flowers and Herbs of Dragonstone. “Do not let him tell you any stories, or you may find yourself there all night.”

Jacaerys chuckled at that, pearlescent teeth glittering in the orange light of the library. Little else seemed to matter, save for the both of you — no other soul around to witness your bond. “I will keep that in-mind. My own father liked to tell us sailor’s tales.” He mused, gaze a touch forlorn.

Laenor Velaryon — you knew that Jacaerys wasn’t his trueborn son, but it didn’t matter, not to you. He had mentioned Ser Harwin Strong once during your talks on the ramparts, and from his expression, you knew how much Harwin meant to him.

“You must miss him terribly,” You uttered, brows furrowing together. “Both of them.” The sweetness of your voice aided Jacaerys in not becoming so emotional in regards to his late fathers. They meant much to him in different ways, as equally as important as the other.

“I do,” Jacaerys smiled fondly, as if he were recalling a memory. “Ser Harwin was gentle yet ferocious, and Ser Laenor was humorous and kind. I couldn’t have asked for anyone better.” Lucerys was quite fond of Laenor — and that little memory jabbed at his heart.

You reached for his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze, yet you didn’t withdraw. Instead, you kept your hand there, with Jacaerys tracing his thumb across the delicate ridges of your knuckles. He knew that Ser Harwin loved him, just as Ser Laenor had, too.

“Your father returned to Crackclaw Point,” Jacaerys began, knowing that as Master of Coin, obtaining fees to fund a potential war were important. “How have you fared?” He asked delicately, tone wrought with a soft-spoken concern.

“I love my father, but he can be rather narrow-minded when it comes to battle. He’s never fought a day in his life,” You mused, idly playing with some of the frayed binding on a book. “My older brother, Clement, is heir to Claw Isle. I suspect he also went to see him as well.”

You didn’t speak of Clement often, and whenever you did, it sometimes left a bitter taste upon your tongue. Clement was better than you in every way imaginable — but then again, had you been born a man, you might’ve been, too. You tried not to dwell on it.

“You didn’t answer my question.” Jace replied, noticing the flicker of melancholy that crossed your features. He cared more for your wellbeing than he did most, and to see you saddened, it hurt him, too.

A soft exhale escaped you before you shrugged, adjusting the velveteen sleeves of your gown. “I’m well enough,” You admitted, mustering up a smile. “I do miss home, but Dragonstone has grown on me. Your mother is a good woman, and you are the very best.”

Jacaerys felt the weight of your words, the genuineness behind them, the feeling of true happiness. If he were to ever ascend the Iron Throne, he hoped that you would be by his side. He lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss atop your knuckles before holding it close. “I am undeserving of your praise.”

“Don’t,” The last thing you wanted was for Jace to feel unworthy, especially during a time like this. He was perfect to you — better than any man in the realm. “You will make a wonderful King, when the time comes. I could not imagine someone better suited for the position. Your mother will make sure of it.”

“I should hope to live up to your expectations,” He chuckled, and before you could scorn him for being harsh upon himself, he stopped you. “I hope to exceed them, with the help of a strong council and a wise Hand.” Jacaerys finished — and a good Queen.

“I know that you will.” You reassured him, dipping forward to press a kiss against his cheek. It was chaste and kept brief for the sake of propriety, but deep down, the both of you were waiting for a moment of opportunity to arrive. If you were patient, it would be soon.

Again, he flourished beneath your praise, head hanging slightly, dark curls framing his visage. He hadn’t a clue of what he did to deserve you, but he thanked the Gods for it. Jace exhaled, cradling your hand within both of his. “Your hand is cold.” He remarked, and the both of you shared a tender smile.

Jace knew that any amount of time spent with you was beyond worthwhile. Despite his desire to be involved in the action, he was beginning to develop a fear of losing you amidst the chaos. He refused to let your flowering relationship break apart.

With a smitten expression, you dipped your head, feeling his hands work to warm your own. “Thankfully, there is someone here to keep me warm.” Your remark was amiable, yet hushed. Part of you still worried that someone would come along and intrude.

“I’ll hold that position with honor, my Lady.” Jace mused, mirth and merriment reaching his eyes. For many days, they had been so forlorn and dour, especially after Lucerys’s passing. Now, there was a renewed spark, a vigor that touched them once again.

You believed him wholeheartedly, feeling warmth crawl across your skin when he lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss against your knuckles. Jacaerys gingerly kissed each of your fingertips, continuing to bring heat to your icy flesh.

The look you gave him was nothing short of endearment — the sort of stare reserved only for close lovers. Intimacy was one thing, but you adored Jace’s heart more than anything else. Beneath the stress of war and strife, he was a good man, born to rule the Seven Kingdoms with a just and compassionate hand.

“After supper, I want to show you Aegon’s Garden and the bay.” He broke the fleeting moment of silence, digits dancing along the silky plane of your palm. “Perhaps on dragonback.” Jacaerys attempted to smother the bemused look on his face when your eyes widened.

“On dragonback?” You had expressed your fear of flying many times before, but on a dragon? What if you fell, or what if Jacaerys fell? Perhaps your fears were irrational, but you still remained hesitant. “What if something were to happen? What if I plummeted from the sky?”

A brief huff of laughter escaped Jace, who canted his head to one side. “Do you truly think I’d let that happen? We would be secure, and there are places to hold onto. I promise.” He reassured you, but it did very little to quell the onslaught of worry you were experiencing. “I wouldn’t let you fall — I swear it.”

Apprehension muddled your visage, browns drawn together in a look of concern. “I trust you, Jacaerys, but —“ He stopped you with a kiss. The suddenness of it left you surprised yet aching for more, and you failed to take stock of your surroundings. It was just the two of you.

The hand that had been perched within his lap for so long now found purchase against your face, cupping your jaw with the utmost care. As much as he wanted to let it linger, echoing footsteps caused him to pull away. Your smitten expression gave him a sense of relief.

“Then trust me.” Jace mused, a smile toying at either corner of his mouth. He planted another kiss atop your knuckles before releasing your hand. Thankfully, the timing was opportune, considering that a guard had wandered into the warm sanctuary of the library.

“My Prince, my Lady,” He greeted, standing tall with his hand on the pommel of his shortsword. “The council is reconvening before supper.” You recognized Ser Lyonel Bentley as one of the younger members of the Queensguard.

Jacaerys thanked Ser Bentley before turning to you, voice lowering enough so that only you could hear. “Find me tonight at the ramparts.” He murmured, subtly brushing his thumb over your knuckles before he stood, neatly rearranging his many scattered books.

You smiled, giving Jace a nod before standing yourself, rising to offer your farewell with a curtsy. “Good evening, my Prince.” Dropping at the knees, you noticed Jacaerys’s fleeting glance before he departed from the library.

As you watched him depart with the company of Ser Bentley, your heart swelled tenfold — Aegon’s Garden awaited you tonight.

𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐢𝐭 𝐚 𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐝𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐭. The sun began to descend towards the ocean, casting the water in a blanket of fading embers. The black stone of the castle seemed to catch fire with the setting sun, and it was a beautiful sight.

Supper was eerily silent that evening — no one seemed hungry, and conversation dwindled to a mere hum. The halls of Dragonstone began to calm for the evening, and there was no sign of Daemon’s return. Your father had sent a raven from Claw Isle, reporting an influx of coin, ships, and supplies.

Within your chambers, you wrote a letter to home — to Clement, and to your father. He cited that he would return in two days' time, with the assistance of Claw Isle’s small vassal of ships. It comforted you to know that your father would rejoin the fray once more.

You waited for the hum of the castle to come to a lull before sneaking from your bedchambers, grabbing your cloak from the back of an armchair. Dragonstone was wrought with hidden passages and winding corridors that led to the Dragon’s Tail, or the wall.

Sneaking about once everyone had retired for the evening felt daring and exhilarating, but you feared what would happen if you were caught. You hadn’t a clue of what excuse to muster up should you be found, but you elected not to think of such things.

Torchlight guided your path from your chambers to a tunnel that led onto the ramparts. Twilight was still dancing across the skies, with the absence of dusk. As you entered the outside of Dragonstone, unoccupied by the presence of guards, you began your search for Jacaerys.

There wasn’t a shadow of a dragon afoot, or a man — just the saltwater breeze and crashing of the tides upon the bay and upon rock. You wrung your hands together, looking around for Jace. You approached the bannister, gazing off into the sea as you had many times before.

You were filled with the same wistful feeling — a longing for home, yet tethered to Dragonstone, tethered to Jacaerys. A soft beating of wings reverberated within the distance, accompanied by the hushed chirp of Vermax, who made a downward descent towards the ramparts you stood upon.

Jacaerys sat atop the olive-scaled dragon, filled with the excitement of seeing you there, smiling and radiant. As Vermax landed with an unceremonious thud, he dismounted, sliding down the side of the dragon’s shoulder and onto the stone below.

He hastily approached you with a giddy gait, delighted to see your own springing step as he collected you into his arms. Jacaerys spun you around, holding you close as he pressed a myriad of kisses against the top of your head. It was a blissful moment, full of anticipation and a sweetness that simply couldn’t be matched.

“I was worried that Ser Lorent might’ve caught you,” Jace mused, placing you onto solid ground as he kept his hands atop your waist, thumbs stroking slow circles into your sides. His smile was perfect, freckles catching in the fading sunlight. “I didn’t see you at supper.”

Admittedly, you weren’t very hungry and had opted to take supper in your chambers. The raven from your father had left you melancholy and alone with your thoughts, long enough for you to realize that hope lingered still. He would return, safe and sound to Dragonstone.

“I wasn’t very hungry,” You confessed, touched by his worry. Jace held you close, motioning towards the heavier knapsack anchored to Vermax’s saddle. It was almost as if Jacaerys intended on staying the night somewhere in the wilderness, but you knew that wasn’t the case. “Are you sure that this is a good idea?”

Jacaerys chuckled, head canting to one side. “You still don’t trust me, do you?” He teased, knowing fully well that it would make you unbelievably flustered. Instead, he reached for one of your hands, lacing it with his own. “I would never put you in harm’s way, I promise you that.” Jace reassured you, pressing a kiss against your brow.

A soft sigh escaped you, then. “I do trust you, Jacaerys — wholeheartedly. I suppose it is an irrational fear, falling from the back of a dragon.” You mused, and he detected the slightest hint of playful sarcasm within your tone. “In all seriousness, I know that you will keep me safe.”

“As long as I am with you, no harm will come to you. Nothing will hurt you,” Jacaerys murmured, pressing a kiss upon your knuckles. “Vermax possesses steady wings, and the journey will be short.” He spoke gently, guiding you toward Vermax’s lowered wing.

Without hesitation, your hand reached for the front of Jacaerys’s velveteen tunic, stitched and patterned to resemble faux dragonscales. You coaxed him in for a kiss, one that immediately flickered to life with a flurry of sweet passion and affection, now unrestrained.

He cupped your face, thumb tracing along the soft curve of your cheekbone, ensuring that he reciprocated with as much adoration as he could muster. Jacaerys had been waiting — waiting so patiently to share this moment with you since the previous tryst.

A rather noisy growl from Vermax pulled the both of you from the bliss of the moment, prompting Jace to scowl at his draconic companion. You were giggling, unable to keep from finding some humor in it. “Is Vermax the envious sort?” You mused.

“I suppose he is,” Jacaerys sighed, stepping up onto Vermax’s spiked shoulder and wing, using the leverage to pull himself up halfway. He looked at you expectantly, extending his hand towards you, which you took without an ounce of reluctance. “Move towards me.”

Rocking towards Vermax, Jacaerys finally hauled you up, guiding you onto the bulk of the leather saddle, situated in front of him. The handles were large and tall enough to give him leverage, even if you were sitting in between.

You could feel the warmth of dragonscales beneath you, the accelerating breaths of Vermax himself, every movement causing you to lurch forward. It was strange to feel a real, living dragon underneath you, but you maintained your composure for Jace’s sake.

“Sōvegon, Vermax!” Jacaerys called, patting just above Vermax’s shoulder before the dragon took flight, leaping from the ramparts and into the cool, dusk air of Dragonstone Isle. Saltwater kisses peppered your cheeks, the mist of the Narrow Sea dancing through the night.

The ground became smaller, no longer close as you took flight, prompting you to hunch forward in order to grab ahold of the saddle. Your heart pounded within your breast, like the beating of a drum. Nervousness swelled within you like the rising of the tide, but Jacaerys kept close, chest snug against your back.

A burst of hysterical laughter tore past your lips, inevitably turning into something genuine. “This is incredible!” You gasped, and the world suddenly seemed so vast from the back of a dragon. Jacaerys laughed with you, guiding Vermax past the ramparts and toward the forested part of Dragonstone.

Aegon’s Garden was shrouded in ancient thickets, a grove that swallowed the shrine whole. “Gīda, Vermax!” Jacaerys ensured that his dragon leveled out, grabbing at the reins as he steered Vermax toward the edge of the island, circling around for you to see. “Put your hands here.” His voice softened for only you to hear as he motioned toward the saddle grips.

With shaky hands, you lifted them to the grips, placing them just underneath Jace’s, your grip ironclad. Jacaerys placed his palms atop yours, reins close enough for him to maintain control over Vermax. “Is this what it’s like to control a dragon?” You questioned, letting out a squeal when Vermax dove to the left.

“Exhilarating, isn’t it? I haven’t let you fall.” Jacaerys mused, pressing a brief kiss against your temple. He smiled when you gave him a playful, pointed look, your tresses billowing behind you with the wind. The sun continued to descend, and the sight was breathtaking.

It was something you would only see once in your lifetime — a sunset in the Narrow Sea upon the back of a dragon, watching as bright orange began to bleed into shades of violet, like dusk reaching up to steal the day away. The first inkling of stars twinkled above, faint yet present.

Anxiousness dissipated into joy and wonder at the world around you, no longer clouded by worry and fear. Jacaerys ensured that you were protected, hovering behind you as any dutiful paramour would. After you circled Dragonstone, he eased Vermax toward Aegon’s Garden, spotting the stone statue in its center.

Jacaerys could see the future, then and there — carrying you on dragonback to King’s Landing, to Driftmark and to the Reach and the Stormlands, seeing the world at your side. There wasn’t any other place for him, and he was satisfied with that.

As Vermax made his descent, the beating of his wings stirring the surrounding brush and flora, you held on tightly, watching as the dragon lowered his body towards the thickets. Towering pine trees, thorny hedges, and a meadow of wildflowers surrounded the massive draconic statue in the very center, wreathed in tendrils of prickly ivy and weathered vines.

It was quiet, the grove hushed with the cover of night. A singular column of torches lined the spiraling statue in the middle, said to be eternal flames lit in Aegon I’s honor, never to die out. Bushes of wild roses bloomed everywhere, in varying shades of crimson and pink, scattered around the stone.

With a soft grunt, Jacaerys moved to dismount, retrieving his thick cloak and a small roll from the back of Vermax’s saddle. He grabbed the thick hide strap that secured the saddle, using its leverage to hop onto solid ground.

He extended his arms out to you, nodding reassuringly for you to jump as he did. “I will catch you.” Jacaerys soothed, ensuring that you were secure within his hold as he assisted you in dismounting.

Through the haze of scaling pine trees and the serenity encapsulating the gardens, you could see the castle of Dragonstone looming in the distance, an intricate alcazar. House Targaryen had its roots everywhere, presence grounded within the very flora and rock you stood upon.

“This is beautiful,” You whispered, tone transcendent with awe as you admired the natural splendor of your newfound environment. It was an ancient place, archaic and from a time long before you. “Can you believe that a place like this still exists?”

Jacaerys had come to Aegon’s Garden on a handful of occasions — twice as a boy, in the company of his brothers and nursemaid. Only recently he’d come here, a place to be alone and contemplate without having a thousand eyes pick him apart.

The smell of damp woodlands and faint wildflowers drifted through the air, accompanied by moss and stone. Pine permeated the air, the scent heavy and verdant. Vermax lowered himself into the thicket, warm breath breaking through a line of ferns and thorns.

“This garden was named for Aegon the Conqueror,” Jacaerys hummed, taking your hand within his as he led you away from Vermax and closer to the statue within the center. It resembled a roaring dragon’s head, black scales winding down a spire, wings outstretched. “It is said that his ashes were scattered here following his passing.”

A trickling noise emerged from the statue, with tendrils of water oozing from the maw of the dragon, pouring into a stone basin below. The sun had nearly faded entirely, giving way to a calm nightfall, covered by large spots of clouds. Jacaerys led you closer to the obelisk, his gait slow and exploratory.

Inching forward, you placed your palm against the carved scales of the statue, feeling damp stone and moss beneath your fingertips. This was a place that was hundreds of years old, untouched by war, untouched by the harsh hand of time. “Is this supposed to be Balerion?”You asked, motioning to the statue.

“From what the records of Dragonstone say, it is Balerion.” Jacaerys replied, following in your footsteps as he stood by your side. He had left his scabbard and sword back on Vermax — he didn’t feel the desire to have it here. “My mother showed me this place when I was young.”

Jace’s voice grew wistful at the mention of his youth — sometimes, it didn’t feel like much of a childhood at all. The weight of being labeled a bastard for all his life left him crawling to feel a sense of worth, to prove himself whenever he could. No one could be so vicious here in Dragonstone — he’d left King’s Landing behind.

Leaning into him, you kept your chin tucked against his arm, gazing into the tarnished ruby eyes socketed into the statue. It was a piece of history, of a dynasty that Jacaerys was apart of. You wondered what your place was, where you would fit in, in the grand scheme of things.

“Someday, I will show you Claw Isle,” You spoke softly, harkening back to your younger days, just as he did. “Celtigar Keep is full of treasures collected throughout generations. There is apparently a carcass of a magical crab somewhere in the crypts.” You mused, nose wrinkling with amusement.

A soft laugh escaped Jacaerys, whose vibrant brown hues turned themselves to you, oozing with a warm affection. “A magical crab? Is that your equivalent to Targaryen dragons?” He teased, squeezing your hand when you playfully rolled your eyes.

“I would much rather have a dragon,” A steady exhale escaped you as you held his hand, feeling his head rest atop your own, thick curls brushing against your temples. “Crabs are boring unless they’re freshly-caught and used in a bisque.” You replied, your smile prevalent upon your features.

Jace snickered, finding your beratement of crabs to be incredibly amusing. A steaming bowl of crab bisque sounded delightful — it was something commonly served around most seaside castles. He fell quiet, elated to be in your presence as he pressed a kiss against the top of your head.

You clicked your tongue, still holding onto Jace’s hand. His silence gave you pause as you glanced up at him, a twinkle of mirth dancing within your eyes. “Did my talk of crab turn you away completely?” You hummed, prompting Jace to reach for your chin, digits tenderly stroking along your jaw.

“Absolutely not,” Jacaerys replied, leaning in until your foreheads touched. “I fear that you may be anchored to me for the foreseeable future.” He murmured, voice becoming a touch husky and rich. You savored his embrace, pressing a brief kiss against his chin, causing him to smile.

Whatever affection you felt for Jacaerys seemed to swell in that moment, causing your heart to flutter with excitement. Butterflies pooled within the pit of your stomach, dancing around with glee. “I’m quite content with that.” You whispered, and he kissed you, even if it was kept brief.

The scenery was something from a fairytale, cranberry meadows and wildflower patches illuminated by both moonlight and the glower of fire. Balerion’s stony, ruby eyes gazed down upon the both of you, the blood of Old Valyria standing before him.

“I would never leave this garden, if I could,” You sighed, interlacing your fingers with Jace’s own. He kept your hand close to him, thumb brushing along the ridges of your knuckles. “This means a great deal to me. Thank you for bringing me here, Jacaerys.”

Jace smiled, guiding you toward the thicket until you reached the stone surrounding Aegon’s monument in the center of the garden. “Perhaps we could stay here,” He replied, coming to a halt in front of the statue. He turned toward you, reaching for your waist as he pulled you closer. “Stay a thousand years.”

If only duty would make it so — if only.

You chuckled, keeping your hands interlocked as your palm lifted to perch atop his chest, absentmindedly tracing over the silvery stitching of his doublet. “What would we do? Eat berries and use Vermax as shelter?” A giggle escaped you as Jacaerys spun you in a slow circle, forehead dipping to press against yours.

“It sounds like a pleasant life.” His utterance had dropped into a sweet caress, genuine as could be. Jacaerys eased you into a sluggish dance, one reserved for noble lords and ladies, spun about across a great hall. He pressed a kiss atop the crown of your head.

Jacaerys wanted that with you, a life free of vitriolic politics and bloodshed, free of the cruelty of the crown, the viciousness of power. As he gently swayed with you within his arms, he had never felt so strongly about someone before. You were intertwined with him.

The folly of youth — fantasy and whimsy, believing that nothing bad would ever happen. You wished that it were true, and that you and Jacaerys could live happily together somewhere else, but the possibility was nothing more than a mere dream, one that dissipated as quickly as it had come.

Even if such a life with Jacaerys sounded picturesque, it wasn’t what duty commanded of you — what honor demanded. You knew that the relationship between you and Jace would be fraught with danger and trials ahead, but you were prepared to brave the storm with him.

As Jacaerys gently twirled you around once more, the both of you began to laugh, lips clamoring to find one another. It was saccharine, warm like the first inkling of springtime — there was never a more gallant man that existed than Jacaerys Velaryon.

He cupped your face within his palms, cradling you as if you were a delicate object, cherished and precious. Your hands wandered toward his chest, sinking into the velveteen material that clung to him. The dancing light of Aegon’s eternal torch basked the both of you in its still-burning embers.

It was refreshing to feel so liberated here, not having to hide your affections, look over your shoulder with each kiss. The fire that burned within you, your adoration for him — it intensified, continued to grow tenfold whenever you were in his embrace.

It was a tender dance, your lips — you couldn’t have pictured kissing anyone else after Jacaerys had kissed you. The care and caution he often exuded was more than enough to make you elated, body flush against his own as the entanglement continued for a few moments longer.

When you withdrew, you felt hot to the touch, completely and utterly taken by the Prince of Dragonstone. You felt his thumbs caress your cheekbones, stroking downward towards the curve of your jaw. The silence was comforting, something that you didn’t break just yet, careening into Jace’s touch.

Silvery rays of moonlight soon replaced that of the waning sunset, with a blanket of stars to decorate the skies. Of course, your surroundings were still clear enough, and he had been diligent enough to bring a torch with him, stashed away within the roll slung across his back.

“Shall we?” Jacaerys asked, offering you his hand to lead you through the winding gardens. The path that had been placed before was overgrown and trodden into mere dirt, but it was better than wading through tall grass. “There is a path that leads to the bay.”

The gentle, heavy sighs from Vermax signaled that he had fallen asleep somewhere amongst the thicket, tail curled around his larger frame. He was easy to spot, a massive scaled form slumbering within the brush.

“What of Vermax?” You asked, motioning towards the sleeping beast. It was amusing to see a dragon asleep — whenever you’d seen one, they were always so animated, soaring above Dragonstone or drifting above the Narrow Sea.

Jace smiled, nose wrinkling with amusement. “He will find me, if he becomes lost. Dragons are tethered to their riders,” He explained, feeling your hand slip within his as he slowly guided you down the path. Bushes of roses lined either side, thick from many decades of growing wild. “It is a companionship, a bond.”

“You will have to take me riding again,” You mused, nose wrinkling in amusement. “I must admit, it wasn’t nearly as terrifying as I thought it would be. You can see much more of the world from the back of a dragon.”

With a teasing grin, Jacaerys dipped down to knock his shoulder against yours. “Is that so?” He jested, your sweet scent filling his nostrils. Your concoction of floral perfumes and honeyed scent was warming, to say the least. “Name the day, and I shall take you with me again.” He promised.

Many of the flowers that blossomed within Aegon’s Garden were native to the island, but something caught Jacaerys’s eye — blooms as pale as snow, sticking out amongst the thorny roses. He released your hand to seek it out, traipsing through the bush.

“Where are you going?” You laughed, head canting to one side as you followed him to the very edge of the path. Jacaerys waded through countless roses to find that clutch of Lady’s Lace. Thorns stuck to his doublet and the tail end of his cloak, not that he minded.

“You’ll see,” He called back, kneeling before the patch of pale, silvery blossoms as he collected them all, smiling to himself as he made his treacherous trek back to the path. When Jacaerys returned, he kept them behind his back, as if you were oblivious to his antics. “It doesn’t grow on Dragonstone.”

Presenting you with the bundle of flowers, you nearly buckled, features blazing with warmth. You were incredibly flustered, charmed to your core as he placed them into your hand. “This is Lady’s Lace,” You murmured, trailing your fingertips across the soft petals. “You are endlessly charming.”

Jacaerys chuckled, bristling at such a compliment as the two of you continued your walk toward the pale beaches of Dragonstone. “Endlessly charming,” He parroted, though instead of opting for humor, he became soft in your presence. “It is reserved only for you.” You believed him wholeheartedly when the words left his lips.

You loved him.

The thought immediately slammed into the recesses of your mind like a heavy stone being thrown, and it nearly shattered your composure. Jacaerys was everything that a man should be — he was everything you’d ever wanted, before you knew what wanting truly was. Your breath hitched within your throat, then and there.

His handsome, gentle features and gallant disposition, the kindness that touched his eyes — he was nothing short of perfection. You envied the woman that would become his Queen, become his wife. They would have only the best — Jacaerys deserved nothing less.

“Everything you do drives me to madness,” You confessed, and before Jace could express his confusion, you pressed a hand against his lips. “You are good — truly good, Jacaerys. I daresay, you are perfect. You cannot begin to understand how incredible you truly are, and your mother would be proud.”

He hesitated, gazing down at you through the haze of moonlight, capturing your doe-eyed stare. Whatever you felt, he did too — only stronger. Jace felt his heart beat again, mirroring the same sentiments he experienced the night he first laid with you.

Jacaerys nearly asked it of you, asked you to be his wife, his future Queen. If it weren’t for the onslaught of boyish nerves that suddenly gripped him, he would’ve asked you — he wanted you to marry him. The advantages of allying two houses of Valyrian descent were vast, but Jacaerys knew to seek the approval of your father upon his return from Claw Isle.

No matter the swiftness of the decision or the reproach it would potentially receive, any repercussions, he didn’t care. How could he, when he had you there to tell him how much he meant to you, how good he was?

He was occasionally quick to anger, desperate to be of some use in his Mother’s fight to regain her crown, but you made him feel more than that. Those flaws dissipated, and he happily drowned within your perfect light, the beacon of beauty that you were.

“Whatever I am, you are so much more.” Jacaerys uttered, politely removing your hand from his lips, but not before he could kiss each of your fingertips. “There is no one in this world quite as perfect as you.” He smiled, and it melted your heart completely.

Your lips parted, a soft exhale escaping you, yet no words emerged, turning to ash upon your tongue. “Jacaerys.” You exhaled, and before you could convey what you felt into words, Jacaerys stepped forward, capturing your mouth in a passionate kiss.

It was fiery, far more charged than any entanglement you had before — and it was incredible. Passion, desire, devotion, love — it all began to roll into one sentimental conglomerate that flared between the both of you. Your hand clenched around the stems of Lady’s Lace, the other draping over his shoulder.

Jacaerys felt a tightening within his throat, canting his head to one side, deepening the kiss with a trembling exhale. Anticipation and exhilaration flooded through him, stirred to arousal when your fingers curled into the shoulder of his tunic.

He was the one to pull away first, ardor written all over his handsome features. “Come with me.” Jace whispered, taking a hold of your hand as he led you down the path from Aegon’s Garden. The land turned from towering pines and bogs of cranberries to an endless expanse of pale sands and gentle waves that lapped at the shore.

With a spring in your step, you trailed after Jacaerys, feet sinking into sand instead of dirt. The sight of Dragonstone in the distance was breathtaking — an obsidian citadel, your home. On your end the stretch, rocky formations and jagged cliff sides arching from the island, dark rock imbued with flecks of crystal.

Unveiling the torch from his light knapsack, Jacaerys struck it with flint and steel, enough of a spark to set it ablaze. Along the strand, moonlight touched the Narrow Sea, basking it in a wave of silvery light. The gentle ambiance of saltwater kissing sand made you feel at-ease.

In his time spent exploring Dragonstone, much of it done in his youth, he discovered many natural alcoves and caves, but none so mesmerizing as the one beneath the watchtower. The tower itself sat atop a large rise of rock, but it was rarely utilized, given the lack of military presence.

The soft sand began to run into walls of rock, surrounded by brush upon an incline and scattered pine trees. You stopped close by, gazing out into the ocean, the sight beautiful from where you stood.

Jacaerys joined you, placing the torch and bedroll along the ground as he joined you, finding the view to be nothing short of perfection. Only the ambiance of crashing waves resonated around you, and you reached for his hand, offering him a gentle smile.

You noticed the cozy resting place constructed by Jacaerys, something that caught your attention. Part of you hoped that it meant what you thought, but you never wanted to assume. As you turned to face Jacaerys, he seemed prepared, visibly steeling himself.

“Are you intending on sleeping here?” You murmured, voice tinged with a sweetness to it. His features turned from pallid to rosy, and he seemed to clear his throat and straighten his posture. “Unless you’ve no intention of sleeping.”

It caught him off-guard, features flushing with scarlet. “I would never pretend to assume,” Jacaerys shook his head, thumbs caressing your knuckles. Admittedly, he brought it all with the intention of simply being in your presence along the coastline, but your innocuous comment had planted ideas into his head. “I only thought it would keep you comfortable.”

A smile spread across your features, one that held nothing but affection and tenderness. “We can,” You had thought about it quite often since he last shared your bed. Here, in the gloom of the rock and moonlight, you didn’t need to be so cautious. “Only if it’s something you wanted too.”

Jacaerys blushed, cursing himself for allowing his expression to give him away so easily. He lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a warm kiss to the soft skin there before he cleared his throat. “I’ve thought about you at every waking moment,” He whispered. “I am not ashamed to admit that I want you terribly.”

It transcended want — Jacaerys wanted you conventionally, as a man desired a woman, but it went beyond that. He wanted everything — your heart, your captivating mind, every fiber of your being.

That was love — and it was a dangerous thing, perilous within times of such uncertainty, but Jacaerys was a man of action, and he no longer wanted to wait in the gallows for you. He wanted to love you while there was still time left, while some peace still clung on by a thread.

Before you could speak, he stepped closer, swallowing the growing lump within his throat. He wasn’t a boy — he was every bit a man, and he would make his intentions known like one. “I feel more than just want,” Jace uttered, keeping your hands tethered together. “That is not adequate enough to describe what I feel for you.”

You shivered, feeling goosebumps rake across your spine in the wake of his confession. Knowing that Jacaerys wanted you just as much as you did him was reassuring. “How do you feel?” You whispered, voice barely above a whisper, as if yearning to know the inner machinations of his mind, know exactly how he felt.

“I love you,” Jacaerys felt a bit of a weight lift from his shoulders. He wanted to ask you to marry him — but it felt sudden. This confession needed to linger before he asked something so monumental of you. “I love you.” He said it again, to ensure its meaningfulness.

Words turned to ash within your mouth, and you could think of nothing else to say — only that you loved him, too. “I love you, too.” Those of an older age would label it puppy love, a fool’s errand — but not you, and not Jacaerys. There was no sweeter love than that born of friendship and devotion.

“Kiss me, Jace.”

That was all it took, all it needed to take — he was yours, unconditionally so, and he would be until his last days.

Without hesitation, Jacaerys captured your lips in a searing kiss, his mouth emblazoned upon yours. The bouquet of Lady’s Lace you held had been placed to the wayside, amongst Jace’s belongings to ensure that you would have it upon your return to Dragonstone.

Everything had seemed so fleeting and cautious before, as if the two of you were caught within a slow dance, hesitant to fully act upon desire. Lust was something different entirely, different from the love you felt for him, the carnal passion. Your arms tossed themselves around his neck, threading against the nape of his neck.

His arm hitched around your hips, bringing you flush against his chest as his mouth tangled with yours. It was a delicate duel of lips and fervor, his hand grasping at the fabric of your gown. He wondered what you would look like, bare and bathed by the gloom of moonlight.

There, on the pallid shores of Dragonstone, your love blossomed yet again. It was similar to the emotions felt the first time, the excitement and anticipation, the flourish of nerves that followed suit, only with the added familiarity. Jacaerys knew what he wanted — he wanted you.

“Are you certain?” Jace asked in between kisses, breathless and wanton as he swallowed the lump within his throat. Despite you having expressed your desire moments prior, establishing clear consent was appreciative on both ends.

“Yes,” You exhaled, eyes glittering through the dusk. “More than anything.” You sealed your statement with a kiss, one that Jacaerys happily reciprocated. He coaxed you closer, leading you toward the thick, furred bedroll atop the sand.

Jacaerys was the first to descend, unclasping the draconic sigil that kept his cloak upon his shoulders, letting it drape across the bedroll. His breath hitched slightly when you crawled into his lap, bringing your hands to his chest, digits sinking into the velvet of his embroidered doublet.

He kissed you tenderly, yet passionately — not an ounce of roughness in his movements, nor a desire to manhandle you. Jacaerys treated you as if you were sacred, a goddess to be worshiped, and he wanted to ensure that he was worthy of you.

It was a beautiful sight, surrounded by the shadowed gloom of pine trees, massive cliffs, and the calm lapping of the ocean’s tides as they swayed into the shore. The flickering of torchlight provided some illumination, but the moon was plentiful.

You were beautiful, prettier when you sat within his lap, gowns pooling around you. Jacaerys brought his hands to the small of your back, finding the ties of your bodice as he loosened them, watching the fabric sag upon your physique. His fingers wandered, curling into the front of your dress.

“May I?” He always asked — you never expected it of him, but the effort he put forth was always appreciated. You nodded, shrugging your arms enough to free yourself from the upper half of your gowns, breasts exposed to the cool, dusk air.

Jacaerys was constantly beguiled by your beauty — he would never tire of it, nor did he want to. He was less shy this time, but reserved about how he touched you, hand skirting along your naked back. The other cupped beneath your jaw, lips colliding with yours once more.

Your hands found purchase atop his broad shoulders, seeking to free him from his doublet. Admittedly, he looked so painfully handsome in it, adorned in the ancient colors of House Targaryen, but you wanted to see him, freckled skin and taut muscle.

Each kiss was like wildfire, spreading with a heat and intensity that threatened to consume you both. Goosebumps cascaded along the length of your spine, body shivering when he gripped you tightly, mouth moving in a blissful tandem with yours.

His lips began to roam, reaching for the soft slope of your jaw, peppering you in delicate kisses as he found your neck. Jace savored your taste, like honey and warmth upon his tongue, skin soft and silky. He wondered how you were real — perfection made living and breathing before him, his heart belonging to you.

“Jacaerys,” You sighed with passion, hands carding through his soft, dark curls. They were perfect to trace your fingertips through, giving you something to grip as his mouth traveled lower, showering you in kisses across your collarbone. “Please, I need you.” A groan escaped you as he dipped close to your breasts.

Arousal stabbed at his gut like a hot knife, a good sort of torture as his cock twitched within his breeches. It wasn’t foreign to him — yearning for you was no longer foreign. His hand fell away from your jaw, gathering at the hem of your gowns as he pushed his palm beneath the fabric, fingers dancing along your leg.

Again, you insistently pushed at his tunic, unbuttoning the silvery clasps to the left, situated beneath a layer of embroidery and velvet. He shuddered at your enthusiasm, his own delight present when your soft hands embraced his chest, gliding over bare muscle.

You nudged his doublet into the bedroll, able to feel all of him now. He was so handsome, layered in a smattering of freckles, still growing into himself, not that you minded. Jacaerys was broad-shouldered and lean, muscle defined and glistening with silver from the moonlight.

His hand continued its ascent, gripping your thigh to signal where he wanted to go, and all you could do was encourage him. “Please.” You breathed, parting from his kiss for just a moment. Jace watched you closely, kissing you wherever he could as his fingers dipped into the warm apex between your legs.

Jacaerys deftly pressed his digits against your cunt, tracing the line of your slit with a feather-light embrace. You gasped, faces pressed closely together, breath hot, bodies aching for more. He found himself enticed by your pleasure, brown hues transfixed on the way your body bent to him.

He sometimes wondered how such a thing was even possible, but the logistics mattered little — he was simply delighted to please you. Jacaerys mimicked his movements from the previous tryst, thumb grazing against your clit as the other two stroked around the rest of your cunt.

Gods, he loved you — it nearly overwhelmed him, then and there, but he held his ground through the onslaught of sentiment he felt. Jacaerys pressed another kiss against your mouth, lingering and intense, digits sinking themselves into your cunt.

Your lips clamored for his, breathy and hot as you moaned into his mouth, hips rolling into his hand. His skin felt soft beneath your fingertips, gripping tightly into his shoulder blades as you allowed pleasure to overtake you. He gave you everything you needed, thumb continuing to circle your clit.

There was no greater sight, Jacaerys thought, seeing you half naked on the beach, cast in silver from the moon. Each glimpse rendered him breathless, heart hammering within his chest, afraid that it might simply rip open.

Breathy, warm pants escaped the both of you, lips occasionally reaching for one another, a moment of bliss and pleasure before Jace gently moved away, showing you affection elsewhere. He bent his head as one would in reverence, finding your breast as he pressed strings of kisses all around your pliant peak.

A sweet moan arose from your lips, a cry of delight as your Prince pleasured you. Part of you felt a pang of guilt for not reciprocating, but he was often insistent on letting it all revolve around you, something you would have to rectify in the future. His arm locked around your back, the other still happily wedged between your thighs.

Your fingers found his hair again, holding at the base of his skull as thick, dark curls threaded themselves through your grasp. Jacaerys groaned at the pleasurable sensation, lips drifting from one of your breasts to the other, taking your nipple into his mouth. He kissed and nibbled around the bud, causing you to shiver.

“Will you let me touch you, too?” You asked, in between throaty pants and needy whimpers. You didn’t want him to stop, and simply wanted him to share in your ecstasy. Jacaerys nodded, feeling your hands release his tresses to tug at the leather ties of his breeches, loosening them up enough to free his cock.

His hips stuttered slightly into your hand, a low groan tearing past his lips as he resumed his focus, allowing two of his fingers to tease your entrance. The warm, soft sensation of your palm closing around his hardened length made him grit his teeth, attempting to maintain his composure.

Just as Jacaerys handled you with adoration, you reciprocated such a notion, stroking from base to tip, finding it somewhat difficult to focus on yourself and him. Nonetheless, the shared bliss was exhilarating to behold, between your pleasured countenance and Jace’s unrestrained grunts and sighs.

The threat of war mattered little, as if it simply ceased to exist when he was in your presence. Duty died then and there, love took its place, like a blossom amongst the rubble — whatever fear he thought he had abandoned had been restored anew.

What was duty compared to that of your touch? What was honor? His honor had been hanging by a thread since your last tryst, and he feared he had lost it altogether by indulging in this, but he was wrong. It was loving you, devoting himself to you, proving to all that he was the heir, the succession.

He kissed you hard, as if he were pouring every ounce of his being into you, as if it would make you both one. Jacaerys savored the feeling of your lips, soft and plump as they returned that passion tenfold. Your ravenous state was born of ardor, and nothing more.

Between the rhythmic rocking of his hand into your cunt, thumb continuing to caress your clit, and the shy strokes of your hand against his cock, the both of you were well on your way to a shared release. He wanted to be inside of you, taste you if he could, but perhaps that would be saved for another day.

You mewled a string of delicate praises, wanting Jace to hear just how perfect he felt. A gentle breeze brought with it the mist of saltwater, peppering itself across your back, a soothing feeling amidst the feverish onslaught of warmth brewing between you and Jacaerys.

“I want you.” He groaned through half-gritted teeth, jaw tensing as his hips jutted forward into your palm. You nodded several times over, adjusting your skirts as you ensured that they wouldn’t be as much of an obstruction. Jace sluggishly removed his fingers from your weeping core, feeling you hover closer.

Aligning his hardened cock with your cunt, you shakily lowered yourself onto him, gasping at the sudden intrusion and stretch. Jacaerys grunted, forehead pushing into yours as one arm encircled you, fingers kneading into the plush flesh of your hips.

The newfound position was unfamiliar to the both of you, but you were so lost within the ecstasy that neither of you voiced any displeasure. It was quite the opposite, in fact. His length throbbed inside of you, aching with a burning want that simply refused to be extinguished.

You were unsure of how to proceed, acting upon instinct and what felt right, rocking your hips back and forth in a rhythmic motion. It was good, but you tried again, finding your pace with uncertainty. When you began to lightly move up and down, thighs stinging with a burning sensation, you knew that was perfect.

“Jacaerys,” You gasped, feeling his hand clamp down into the swell of your hip, guiding you along as best as he could. Each rock of your hips atop him sent him into a sea of bliss, savoring the warmth and tightness of your cunt. His head dipped down, finding the column of your throat. “Jace!” A whine escaped you, needy and wanton.

He pressed needy kisses into your neck, savoring the taste of your skin, sweet and heady. You continued to adapt to the newfound position, gently moving your hips in a rhythmic motion. Your body felt feverish, as if it had been set ablaze, stomach swirling with molten heat as arousal pooled between your legs.

Despite the sight of you, resplendent and glowing atop him, Jacaerys wanted to feel it all — and there wasn’t much that he could do like this. His hand gently coaxed you to the side, wanting to ease you down into the furs beneath you.

Much to your shared delight, you quietly obeyed, breath hitching within your throat as you moved to your back, with Jacaerys reassuming his position between your legs. His veined hand gingerly traced along your thigh, the other rooted near the sand to keep himself afloat.

Carnality festered between the both of you, like a smoldering flame, unable to be controlled. You gazed up at him, doe-eyed and devoted, an intimate look that was reserved only for him. Jacaerys gently pushed your skirts up enough to allow him movement, the head of his cock kissing your entrance.

His chest rose and fell with heavier sighs, and he nearly groaned when you peppered light, fleeting kisses along his sculpted jaw. “Are you alright?” He asked, voice strained with desire, having dropped to a delicate octave that stroked at the back of your mind.

It was bliss and ardor you felt, no longer clipped by the sting of discomfort or the uncertainty of your actions. You knew exactly what you wanted — whom you wanted, who you loved. “I am,” You reassured him, feeling his hand caress the inside of your thigh. “I love you.” Your smile spread quickly across your features, like the first inkling of daybreak.

Jacaerys moved forward then, deliberately sinking his hardened length into you, letting it fill you, bit by bit. The sensation was euphoric, aided by your shared sentiments and declarations of love. “I love you.” He hummed, a smile toying at either corner of his mouth as he dipped down to kiss you.

There was a poignant seriousness about the first time you lay together, and that same feeling was felt here too, only less intense. Instead, you felt the thrill of being with him, the desire, love — perhaps a touch of lightheartedness. He made love to you as if you’d been lovers for a thousand years already.

He began to adopt a passionate pace, one that filled your body with a pleasant buzz. With each thrust, he bottomed out inside of you, withdrawing his cock just enough to make the next movement count. A myriad of husky groans and excitable exhales escaped him, coupled with your own sweet moans.

The hand that had perched against your thigh began to drift toward the warmth between your legs, thumb seeking your clit again as he rolled his hips into you. You sighed with passion, hitching one leg around his hips, the other bumping into his side.

“You’re perfect.” Jacaerys murmured into the hollow of your throat, his tousled mane of curls within perfect reach of pulling and tugging. His lips showered you in untold amounts of affection, traveling from your slender neck to your collarbone, hot breath sinking into your skin.

Goosebumps crawled across your flesh as a brisk, oceanic breeze swept over you, but Jacaerys kept you warm, shielding you with his fire. You traced your fingers over the freckles dusted across his shoulders, one hand gripping at his shoulder, the other tangling into his thick tresses.

Your back arched slightly, careening into him as he circled your clit with his thumb, letting it meld into the rhythm of his thrusts. His cock throbbed with a lustful ache, on the verge of release, losing himself within you. Everything felt so euphoric, as if time stood still, the both of you tangled together on the beach.

A vigor began to take hold, boldening his strokes and furthering his ministrations, driving himself deep inside of you with every breath he drew. It was loving and gentle, the sort of tenderness shown in true acts of intimacy. It was difficult not to become so overwhelmed that he became sporadic — Jace wouldn’t subject you to that.

The feeling of his mouth hungrily swirling across your body made you whimper, arousal sinking like a pleasant weight within your stomach. His thumb caressed your clit, wanting to bring you to a release with him, if he could.

His name fell heavy upon your tongue, an incantation that only you could cry, laced with ardor and reverence. Jacaerys never tired of hearing you say his name — if it were up to him, he would have you say it a thousand times over. You tugged at his curls, coaxing him in for an open-mouthed kiss.

The coil that furled within you began to loosen, bliss following suit as your hips writhed beneath him, rolling into each thrust. Jacaerys groaned at the friction, brow dappled with a sheen of perspiration as he kissed you back, hand curling into a fist within the furs.

It was all tongue, mouths, bodies pressed together, heat — desire laid bare, and you gladly drowned yourself in it. You moaned into his mouth, foreheads pressed together as you shuddered, the dam breaking within your stomach. It all unfurled, reaching your peak in-tandem with Jacaerys.

He buried his face into yours, brows furrowing together, countenance one of sheer bliss as he released, seed spilling inside of you before he pulled himself out halfway through. Jacaerys felt that tide of bliss soon afterwards, attempting to make himself somewhat decent.

He didn’t leave you, composure regaining itself as you rode your release, body shivering with delight. You felt him lay next to you, still damp with inklings of sweat and saltwater mist. You exhaled, your skirts thoroughly ruffled and rucked around your hips.

You sat up, peering at Jacaerys through your lashes, your smile affectionate and smitten. His fingertips traced along the soft plane of your back, drawing delicate patterns there. “I’ll never grow tired of that.” You confessed, and it lightened the moment, prompting him to laugh.

A shade of rose coated his visage, brown hues sparkling with admiration as he caressed along your spine. “Neither will I,” Jacaerys agreed, sitting up enough to help pull your gown back into place. He didn’t know anything about lacing a bodice back together, but he could certainly try. “I cannot get enough of you.” He murmured, pressing a kiss against your shoulder.

A blossoming warmth flooded through you, accompanied with a feeling of pure bliss — he was sweet, and it made you feel incredibly fortunate. You felt his fingers find the ties of your gown, carefully maneuvering them back into place, kissing along your spine as he did so.

“We don’t have to leave.” You crooned, feeling his chin perch atop your shoulder, lips delicately peppering themselves along your neck. Your tone was a touch melancholy, knowing that when the dawn began to spread across the horizon, you would have to return to the realm of being apart again.

You could stay a thousand years, just as he had told you in Aegon’s Garden.

Jacaerys’s jaw tensed slightly — he wanted to ask you. It was opportune, and he wouldn’t have to be apart from you again. It would be so effortless, taking your hand and asking for you to be his wife, the future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, but he couldn’t.

The silence made you somewhat concerned, and you turned enough to face him, head canting to one side. “Is something on your mind?” You inquired, cradling his face within your palm. You could see the storm behind his eyes, the curtain of contemplation.

Ask — ask her to be your wife.

Jace’s proposal turned to ash within his mouth. It would be a disservice to his mother and to your House if he simply acted. He wanted to ask your father, ease his mother toward the subject, go about it the proper way. This was the right way, asking you out of love and passion, but he couldn’t.

Not yet, at least.

“Nothing,” His lips twitched into a genuine smile as he reached for your hands, cradling them within his own, thumbs stroking your knuckles. “Know that I would go anywhere with you, if I could. I love you,” Jace assured, and you knew it to be true. “I am yours.”

You smiled, wanting to hold onto the moment for as long as you could. It was disheartening to have another wonderful evening shattered by reality, by the duty that bound the both of you elsewhere. “I love you, too.” You murmured, pressing a kiss against his jaw.

His countenance glistened with disdain at the idea of having to return to the castle — to separate rooms, to two different lives. Jacaerys wanted you by his side, and if fate would have it, he would not have to wait for much longer. Temperance and patience would endure.

There would be no staying together until dawn arose — no chance to hold you throughout the night, shield you from any shadows that might harm you. Jacaerys felt the weight of it sink into his stomach, and it made him treasure these moments with you even more.

“We should return to Dragonstone.” You uttered, as if the statement itself was a damnable curse. Your throat tightens slightly, but you maintained your composure, helping to collect his scarce belongings and clasp his doublet back into place.

Jacaerys could see the dismay upon your face, and it only made him ache with yearning, a desire to wipe away all of your melancholy. He pressed a kiss against the top of your head, and when the both of you stood in the sand, gazing at one another with a look of longing, he wanted to prolong your return for as long as he could.

“Not just yet,” Jacaerys uttered, reaching for your hand as he held it within his own, his forehead dipping to rest against yours. “Not just yet.” He whispered, tenderhearted smile reaching his eyes before he leaned in for a kiss.

copyright @ swordgrace ; please do not steal or translate my work onto other platforms or claim it as your own.

[softieyuume]

Sappy Warrior

✿ Sylus x fem!reader

✿ He's utterly, undoubtedly and hopelessly in love with you.

✿ pure fluff. Grassland Romance setting.

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The sound of the festivities outside echoed into the yurt, muffled by the thick canvas walls. The air was warm and cozy as the flickering light from the single oil lamp cast long shadows around the room. The laughter from outside the yurt could be heard, but the intimate atmosphere inside the tent created the illusion of a world all their own.

Sylus laid his head on your lap, his face nuzzling close to your stomach, his expression showed a picture of contentedness. His eyes drifted shut as he felt your fingers carding through his soft locks of white hair, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

He allowed himself a moment of respite, enjoying the sensation of you caressing him so intimately. His body was still thrumming with adrenaline from the competition earlier, but being wrapped around you felt more rejuvenating than celebrating a victory feast.

After a few moments of enjoying the silence, Sylus slowly opened his eyes, looking up at your face for brief seconds before he finally spoke, his voice low and filled with a touch of laziness, "I'm surprised you're so calm. I thought you would be more upset with me carrying you around like a spoil of war."

"I'm used to your antics by now, Sylus." You let out a soft chuckle as your fingers continued massaging his scalp. Your gaze looked down at him, your voice had a hint of playfulness in them. "Besides, I didn't want you to be surrounded by throngs of girls giving you pouches and striking up an opportunity to flirt with you."

An amused smirk tugged at the corners of Sylus's lips as he responded in a drawl, "Jealous, sweetie?"

His eyes glittered with mischief as he teased you, knowing full well how easy it was to make you envious. He was quite used to riling you up and taking pleasure in seeing your reactions.

You rolled your eyes in response to his words, though a hint of pink hue dusted your cheeks. Your fingers moved from his hair to lightly poke his cheek, your tone laced with feigned irritation, "I am not jealous."

You tried to appear nonchalant, but he could read the subtle signs of annoyance in your eyes. Even if you didn't want to outwardly admit it, there was a twinge of jealousy lurking beneath the surface, and he was relishing it.

Sylus's smirk widened even more, his eyes sparkling with a sly arrogance as he pushed himself up to sit in front of you, positioning himself so that he was hovering above you given his tall height. He could sense your annoyance and it only amused him further. Leaning in, his lips were dangerously close to your ear as he murmured, "Are you sure about that, angel?"

Your breath hitched when he moved closer, his proximity sending tingles down your spine. You tried to maintain your composure, but your facade crumbled as he got even more closer, his warm breath tickling the sensitive skin of your ear. You shivered slightly, your voice coming out as a breathless whisper, "Yes, I'm sure. I'm not jealous, I just... don't like the idea of you, with a harem of admirers."

He chuckled lowly, his lips curving into a smug smile as he heard the slight waver in your voice. He shifted even closer, his body almost pressed up against yours as he continued to tease you. "You're not jealous, but you don't like me having a harem of admirers." He repeated, his voice dripping with mockery. "That sounds like jealousy to me, sweetie."

You bristled at his response, your cheeks flaming red in embarrassment. You huffed and turned your head away from him, trying to hide the evidence of your insecurity. "Hmph. Think whatever you like."

Sylus smirked at your reaction before moving his body so that he caged you in with his arms on either side of you, effectively trapping you against the edge of the bed. He leaned in even closer and nuzzled affectionately against the crook of your neck, his voice coming out a deep purr. "Hmm, my jealous beloved, how cute."

Your eyes narrowed furiously down at him, trying your best to keep your cool despite the heat that was spreading across your skin as his large arms wrapped itself around your waist, pulling you close to him.

"Let me go, you clingy bear." You grumbled, trying to push him off, though it proved to be impossible given his ridiculously massive strength.

He ignored your half-hearted protest, instead, he pulled you to sit on his lap, his body molding against yours as if trying to merge into one. He could practically see the heat steaming from your cheeks, and it only fueled his amusement.

"Nah." He drawled, nuzzling his face against yours affectionately. "You're stuck with me, angel and I'm never letting you go."

There was a brief flash of pain in his eyes but it quickly masked to a softened gaze. His voice warm and loving as he spoke, "Never again."

As much as you wanted to stay irritated, to keep up the pretense of being indignant, but the way his voice softened with tenderness made it difficult. And his words strike a chord in you as you recall his difficult past.

A soft sigh escaped your lips, and you leaned your head on his forehead, your hand gently cradling his cheeks with a gentle reassuring smile, "I won't leave you, Sy. I promise."

He let out a contented sigh, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your back, his gaze stared deeply into yours before he buried his face against your neck once more, inhaling your scent and savoring the feeling of you being in his arms.

"Good." He replied, his voice low and possessive. "You're mine and I'm never letting you go."

He pulled you closer, his hold tight as if afraid you would slip away from him, a testament of how much he didn't want to lose you ever again.

Your heart fluttered when you felt his arms tighten around you, his possessive grip making your heartbeat raced faster than usual. You closed your eyes, melting in the warmth and safety of his embrace.

"And you're mine." You murmured back, your hands finding purchase on his chest as you leaned back a bit, your fingers gripping at his attire. "No one else's. You're mine, got it?"

There was a fierce determination in your voice, a silent promise that you would fight tooth and nail to keep him by your side.

His heart warmed at your words, a strange mix of pride and affection settling in his chest. He chuckled, his arms wrapping around you a little tighter as he replied with a teasing tone, "Is that a hint of possessiveness I hear from my sweet darling angel? How surprising."

You huffed in response, your cheeks slightly flushed as you tried to maintain a dignified expression. "Hey, it's only fair." You argued, trying to keep your voice steady. "You get to be all territorial and possessive, but I can't?"

He grinned at your protest, his eyes sparkling with a sly glimmer. "Oh, you can be. I never said you couldn't " He replied, his tone filled with playful banter. "I just didn't think you had it in you, sweetie."

Flustered, you tried to hide your embarrassment by squishing his cheeks, struggling to calm down your racing heartbeat from his relentless teasing. "Urgh. You're hopeless."

He let out a hearty laugh at your reaction, though his voice was slightly muffled due to your hand squishing his cheeks. He found your annoyance quite adorable, especially since it wasn't genuine. He reached up and grabbed your hand, gently prying it away from his face.

"Hopelessly in love with you, my beloved." He purred, his eyes gleaming with affection and tenderness as he brought your hand close to his, giving your palm a soft kiss. The gesture made your heart flutter tenfold and you couldn't resisted planting a soft peck on his cheek.

"Who would've thought Grassland's mighty warrior could be such a sap." You chuckled, a smile finally graced your lips as you leaned forward, your lips whispering sweetly against his lips. "My sappy warrior."

"Only yours, sweetie." He hummed softly, feeling a strange sense of satisfaction from hearing your affectionate nickname for him. He leaned forward to capture your lips into a kiss - a sweet kiss that was filled with the subtle promise of more to come.

You pulled away after a while, your face still flushed red from embarrassment and the lingering effect of the kiss. "Sylus.. Thank you for loving me..” You murmured sweetly, your hands were still on his face, your thumbs rubbing gently against his cheeks.

His heart swelled as he caught the hint of shyness in your voice. He brought a hand up to brush aside a strand of hair from your face, his expression filled with affection and pure adoration towards you.

"Believe me, sweetie, loving you is the easiest thing I've ever done." Sylus responded with a sincere smile. He leaned in to plant a soft kiss on your forehead, his fingers caressing your cheek gently. "And I'll always love you."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, the mixture of tenderness and sincerity in his tone sending a wave of warmth through your heart. You leaned into his touch, your eyes softening as you looked at him.

"Sap." You repeated, but there was no real annoyance behind your words this time. Instead, your hands moved to the back of his head, threading your fingers through his white hair as you rested your forehead against him, eyes fluttering shut and finding comfort in his embrace.

He chuckled, feeling a surge of affection wash over him as you leaned into his touch and called him 'sap' yet again. He moved his hand to caress your cheek, his fingers tracing the line of your jaw with a soft touch.

"Your sap." He replied teasingly with a possessive edge to his voice, his fingers wrapping around your waist as he pulled you closer, his lips peppering kisses across your jawline with a playful yet determined whisper. "All yours for as long as you want me, my dear beloved.”

[idkyetxoxo]

Aemond Targaryen - Hidden Heat

Summary - In the gardens, tension and desire collide as Aemond fiercely claims what's his, pushing boundaries with his wife in a dangerously public setting, all while others linger nearby, oblivious, or are they?

Pairing - Aemond Targaryen x reader

Warnings - Sexual content (smut!)

Word count - 2271

Masterlist for Aemond • House of the Dragon General Masterlist

"Lord Tully, your words are very kind," I replied, offering him a grateful smile as he complimented me with effortless charm.

The day was brilliantly sunny, and the keep buzzed with activity. Lords and ladies from the most esteemed houses gathered for the grand banquet hosted by the king later that night.

Seeking a brief respite from the throng, I had retreated to the gardens. Yet, it seemed that even here, I was not alone.

The garden was a sensory feast, alive with the fragrance of blooming roses and the gentle hum of bees, a soothing contrast to the vibrant chatter of the crowd.

"Married life seems to be treating you well, I hope?" Lord Tully inquired, his gaze warm and engaging. I chuckled softly, nodding in agreement.

"Indeed, it is," I said, though my attention wandered past him. I spotted my husband standing against a pillar, his gaze locked onto us with an intense, almost magnetic focus.

"I trust the prince treats you with the kindness and attentiveness you deserve?" he asked, his fingers brushing lightly against my hand as he spoke.

The fleeting touch sent a shiver through me, and I instinctively pulled my hand back, clasping them together in front of me.

I tried to maintain my composure, but I couldn't ignore the steely gaze of my husband, following the subtle exchange between Lord Tully and me.

Lord Tully seemed oblivious to the tension, his attention solely on me.

"You have such grace about you," he continued, his voice smooth and inviting. "It's no wonder the prince is so captivated by you."

My cheeks warmed slightly, though I kept a polite smile. Aemond's gaze, sharp and unwavering, was like a burning ember. He pushed himself away from the pillar and approached us with a deliberate, regal stride.

As he reached us, the air seemed to shift. His expression was calm, but the intensity in his eye was palpable.

"Lord Tully," Aemond said, his voice carrying an edge of formality, "I trust you're finding our gardens to your liking?"

Lord Tully's charm faltered momentarily. He straightened and offered a courteous bow.

"Yes, my prince, the gardens are exquisite, as always," he replied, his tone respectful but tinged with awkwardness.

"That's good to hear," Aemond said, his eye never leaving Lord Tully's face. "I trust you've enjoyed the conversation?"

"Very much," Lord Tully said, glancing at me with a subtle, questioning look before returning his attention to my husband. "Your wife is a delight."

Aemond's gaze softened slightly, though his eye remained sharp. "Indeed," he said, his voice measured, "she is."

With that, Aemond's presence cast a new shadow over the conversation. Lord Tully, sensing the shift, offered a polite nod before excusing himself, granting us a moment of privacy.

As he walked away, the garden's lively chatter resumed, but a different kind of tension lingered in the air.

Aemond's intense gaze fixed on me as he gently guided us to a nearby bench. His gesture was both commanding and tender, a silent declaration of his desire for us to be alone. Once seated, he pulled me onto his lap, his arms wrapping around me in a protective embrace.

"What happened?" I asked, my voice tinged with concern as I settled against him. The firmness of his chest beneath me was a comforting solidity amidst the social turmoil.

"He was rather taken with you," Aemond said, his voice low and steady. I looked down at him, confusion furrowing my brows.

"No, he wasn't," I replied, though my tone was more uncertain than I intended. Aemond's eye remained unwavering, his expression a mix of frustration and possessiveness.

"You're too naive to see it," he said, his tone softening slightly but still firm. I sighed, feeling a pang of guilt.

"I apologize," I murmured, reaching up to brush my fingers gently across his cheek. 

He captured my hand in his, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to my fingertips. The tenderness of his touch contrasted with the intensity of his words.

"I didn't mean to cause you distress," I said, resting my head against his shoulder. His arms tightened around me, offering comfort.

Aemond's fingers stroked my back soothingly, the warmth of his body a comforting contrast to the chill of the earlier confrontation.

"You have nothing to apologize for," he murmured, his voice a gentle reassurance that made me relax further into his embrace. I shifted slightly on his lap, finding a more comfortable position.

Suddenly, Aemond's hand shot out to grasp my arm, his voice tight with a breathless urgency.

"Don't do that," he gasped, and I was about to ask why when I felt the unmistakable hardness pressing against my thigh.

"Aemond," I whispered, shock and surprise mingling in my voice as I saw his eye flutter closed, a low, shaky breath escaping his lips.

I instinctively moved to stand, but his arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me back down onto his lap with forceful insistence.

"Don't move," he hissed through gritted teeth, and I felt the tension in his body holding me in place.

"Please," he whimpered, his head resting heavily against my back. 

His hand slid under the hem of my dress, fingers trailing dangerously close to the heat between my legs, sending a jolt of desire through me.

"Here?" I asked incredulously, trying to turn to face him, but he only hummed in response, his hand pressing firmly against the small of my back to keep me from moving.

"Aemond, someone could see us," I whispered, panic rising in my throat as I glanced around the garden. But he sighed, his voice a mix of frustration and need.

"No one's around," he assured, and I realized with a quick look that the garden was now eerily deserted.

"You're already so wet," he whispered against my ear, his words sending a flush of heat to my cheeks. There was no denying the way my body responded to him, betraying my own arousal.

"Fine," I breathed, and no sooner had the word left my lips that Aemond's hands were at his belt, unbuckling it with haste.

He freed himself, guiding his hardened length between my legs. The sensation of him filling me drew a soft, involuntary moan from my lips.

He began to move slowly, his hands gripping my waist to steady us both as he thrust upward. Each motion was deliberate, pulling me deeper into the intoxicating pleasure.

Our breaths became a symphony of soft moans and desperate gasps, lost in the rhythm of our shared desire. 

Then, the unmistakable sound of footsteps echoed nearby, and we both froze, panic flaring as I scrambled to pull my dress down. My hands trembled as I tried to cover us, though Aemond remained buried deep inside me.

"Mother," Aemond's voice was steady, though his body was taut with tension as Alicent came into view, followed closely by Ser Criston and Aegon.

My heart pounded in my chest as I struggled to maintain composure, praying they wouldn't notice the flush on my cheeks or the breathless look in my eyes.

Alicent's sharp eyes narrowed as she approached us, her gaze flickering with suspicion.

"What are you two doing?" she asked, her voice tinged with a mixture of concern and curiosity.

Aemond, ever composed, didn't miss a beat.

"Nothing, Mother," he replied, his tone smooth, though I could feel the tension radiating from him.

Inside me, I could feel his cock twitch, the sudden movement making it nearly impossible to keep a straight face. I bit down on my lower lip, desperately trying to suppress the gasp that threatened to escape.

Alicent's eyes lingered on me for a moment longer, and I could see the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. She seemed to sense something was amiss but chose not to press further.

I, on the other hand, could barely manage a smile, my thoughts clouded by the overwhelming sensation of Aemond still inside me.

Aegon, ever the mischief-maker, didn't let the moment pass unnoticed. He stepped forward with a wicked grin, his eyes glinting with amusement as he took in the scene.

"Why is she sitting on you, brother?" he asked, feigning innocence, though his smirk betrayed him. "There's more than enough space on the bench."

I could feel my face burn with embarrassment, the heat spreading from my cheeks down to my core as Aemond's cock pulsed within me. My breath hitched, and I struggled to maintain my composure under their scrutiny.

Aemond's grip on my waist tightened subtly, a silent reminder to stay still, to keep up the facade.

"She was just... tired," he said, his voice a careful balance of calm and authority. "We were resting for a moment."

Aegon's smirk only grew wider, his eyes dancing with mirth. He was clearly enjoying this far more than he should.

"Resting, hm?" he drawled, the insinuation unmistakable. "Interesting way to rest, I'd say." His smirk turned into a grin as he watched us, clearly savouring the delicate position we were in.

I shot Aegon a warning look, trying to silently communicate the urgency of our situation. But his amusement only grew, a soft chuckle escaping his lips as he revelled in the unexpected spectacle we had become.

Alicent, standing nearby, seemed torn between concern and a desire to move past the moment. Her eyes softened with motherly concern as she reached out to grasp my hand.

"My dear, are you alright? You seem flushed," she asked, her voice a soothing balm against the backdrop of tension.

The touch of her hand made my heart race, and I struggled to keep my voice steady, the weight of the situation pressing heavily upon me.

"Yes, I am fine," I managed to say, though my voice wavered under the strain. "I think it may be the heat," I added quickly, trying to explain away my flushed appearance.

Alicent nodded, her expression softening as she released my hand and stepped back, her concern still evident but now tempered with understanding.

"It is quite hot, isn't it?" Aegon chimed in, his grin widening further.

If looks could kill, Aemond's glare would have struck his brother down on the spot. Yet Aegon remained undeterred, clearly enjoying the discomfort his presence was causing.

I took a deep breath, but in doing so, my body betrayed me. My walls clenched involuntarily around Aemond, drawing a sharp gasp from him.

He leaned in, his breath warm against my ear as he whispered, "Please don't do that." I nodded subtly, willing my body to remain still despite the involuntary response.

"Are you in pain, my Prince?" Ser Criston asked, his eyes narrowing with suspicion as he observed Aemond's reaction.

His tone held a mix of concern and skepticism as if he sensed something was amiss.

"No," Aemond exhaled, shaking his head slightly to dismiss the question. His voice was tight, but he maintained his usual composure.

"I believe we should leave them be," Criston said, his gaze lingering on us with unsettling intensity. There was a knowing glint in his eyes that made my skin crawl, though he kept his distance, his voice calm.

"Should we, though?" Aegon quipped, clearly savouring the discomfort he was causing. I glared at him, hoping to convey the seriousness of the situation without drawing more attention.

"Aegon, come on," Alicent urged, her patience clearly wearing thin as she began to move away, following Criston who had already started walking off.

"How brave," Aegon murmured as he leaned in close, his voice a teasing whisper meant only for Aemond and me to hear. "Taking your wife in such an unconventional place."

The implication in his words sent a fresh wave of heat through my body, and I fought to maintain my composure.

"Leave. Right. Now," Aemond warned, his voice low and dangerous, his eye flashing with barely restrained fury.

Aegon laughed, raising his hands in mock surrender as he stepped back, still chuckling to himself as he finally turned to follow the others.

The moment Aegon was out of sight, I let out a long, shaky breath, relief washing over me like a cool breeze after a storm. My body relaxed slightly, the tension coiling within me unwinding.

I turned my head slightly, meeting Aemond's intense gaze.

"Should we continue?" he murmured, his voice now softened but still carrying a trace of the earlier intensity. His lips quirked into a half-smirk, the suggestion hanging playfully between us.

I couldn't help but laugh, the sound bubbling up as I playfully slapped his chest.

"You're hopeless," I teased, shaking my head as I carefully lifted myself off him, feeling the subtle ache from our earlier passion.

I adjusted my dress, smoothing the fabric with practised ease, while Aemond mirrored my movements, his calm demeanour making it seem as if nothing unusual had occurred.

"Perhaps in the safety of our chambers," I suggested, my voice tinged with a hint of mischief. A small smile played on my lips.

Aemond's smirk deepened at my words, his eye gleaming with that familiar, dangerous allure. Without a word, he grabbed my hand, his grip firm yet gentle, and began leading me down the familiar path toward our chambers.

As we navigated the winding corridors, the thrill of our earlier encounter buzzed beneath my skin, the memory fueling anticipation for what was to come.

I felt the warmth of Aemond's hand in mine, his presence a steady comfort and a reminder of our deep connection.

When we finally reached the doors of our chambers, Aemond paused, turning to face me. His gaze was intense, his smirk giving way to something deeper, more profound.

He pulled me close, his lips brushing against my ear as he whispered, "Let's continue where we left off."

His voice was thick with promise, sending a shiver of excitement down my spine.

I nodded, my heart pounding in anticipation as we stepped into the privacy of our chambers, leaving behind the dangers of the garden for the sweet indulgence of our desire.

A/n - Nothing says 'a romantic interlude' like a surprise visit from the in-laws!

Aemond tag list - @darylandbethfanforever9 @lessdepressy

[amirasainz]

Can you do the leclerc brothers with sister reader and she’s like the joy of their life, kinda like the bond with amira sainz and Carlos but with the leclerc?

Of course!!! I find this is such a cute request.

Enjoy reading and send me requests!!!

-XoXo

Little Sunshine

It was no secret among the paddock that the four Leclerc siblings shared an exceptionally close bond. It was also widely known that the three older brothers—Lorenzo, Charles, and Arthur—were fiercely protective of their younger sister, YN. At just 19 years old, she was not only the youngest in their family but also the only girl, creating a perfect recipe for three overprotective brothers.

There had already been numerous occasions where the brothers had demonstrated that their sister was the center of their universe, and they would go to any lengths to ensure her happiness and safety. ANYTHING!

One particularly heartwarming moment occurred during the Silverstone Grand Prix. During this GP, the cameras captured a scene that made fans fall in love with the Leclerc family all over again. As it was raining cats and dogs outside, the Free Practice session had been red-flagged. The FIA deemed it too dangerous for the drivers to continue in such treacherous conditions. Consequently, all the drivers were confined to the garage. While most of them were engrossed in reviewing data with their engineers, taking a brief respite, or chatting with their loved ones via FaceTime, there was one notable exception: Monsieur Charles Leclerc.

Instead of poring over data with his race engineer, Charles was seated on a chair, surrounded by an impressive array of hair care products. His lovely sister YN sat in front of him, comfortably perched on a cushion, completely absorbed in a book. The cameras captured the look of intense concentration on Charles’ face. What astonished the fans the most wasn’t that no one interrupted them, but that Charles was able to execute a top-notch hair care routine for his sister’s beautiful hair with seemingly effortless precision.

Later on, when the media inquired why he didn’t engage in the same activities as the other drivers during the red flag, he responded with a nonchalant expression, “My sister has beautiful hair, and my mama is a hairdresser. Naturally, I know that her hair requires special attention during such heavy rain. I don’t even understand why you’re asking such a silly question.” Safe to say that the fans loved the sassy respons from their PR trained King

Another fan-favorite moment occurred during one of Charles’ vlogs. The Leclerc family is renowned for their cherished boat trips during the summer, and this year was no exception. The memorable incident took place while Joris was busy filming Charles, who was enthusiastically explaining some part of the boat near his two younger siblings, who were both basking in the sun. With his face turned to the camera, Charles was blissfully unaware of his older brother Lorenzo sneaking up behind him. The camera began to shake from Joris’ silent laughter. As Charles continued his explanation, Lorenzo crept closer and closer to his unsuspecting siblings. And then it happened.

One moment Charles was mid-sentence, and the next, he was unceremoniously thrown overboard into the water. Before anyone could fully process what had happened, Lorenzo had already scooped up Arthur and tossed him in next to Charles, who was now simultaneously complaining and laughing. It was anticipated that Lorenzo would also pick up their sister and throw her in with their brothers. But that’s not what transpired. Instead, Lorenzo carefully lifted his sister and carried her to the railing. He gently set her down and descended the stairs himself first, stopping on the last step.

“Careful, ma puce, the stairs are a bit slippery,” he cautioned her. Instantly, Charles and Arthur halted their water fight, now also keeping a vigilant eye on YN. With Lorenzo’s assistance, which she didn’t even need, and under the watchful eyes of her other brothers, she safely entered the water. Now it was her turn to initiate the water fight, easing the tension that had briefly filled the air. However, her brothers remained close to her, ready to offer support in case she grew tired of swimming and needed a break. And Joris? He was busy laughing his butt off the entire time.

Another memorable moment took place during the Vegas GP. Like any other American GP, this one was packed with celebrities. Being the supportive sister she is, YN attended the GP with her older brother Arthur to cheer on Charles.

While Charles was out there racing, the well-known actor Timothée Chalamet decided to shoot his shot with the pretty Monegasque girl. “Hey. What do yo—” Before he could even finish his sentence, he was met with the disapproving face of Arthur Leclerc. The youngest brother looked him up and down, raised an eyebrow, and uttered a single, final word: “No.”

Arthur then moved his sister away from Timothée’s sight and engaged her in a conversation about the new Vogue magazine she had bought that day. YN, who didn’t even realize what had just transpired, was more than happy to discuss her favorite fashion magazine.

It’s safe to say that even a blind person could see the immense love and protective instincts the three brothers have for their sister.

[lalunanymph]

MARRY THE TRAITOR ; gojo satoru

⟡ the day you met your demise is the same day you met gojo satoru, your betrothed from a world so different from yours—a cruel prince who is undoubtedly in love with someone else. as the stakes rise and you race against the clock to beat your brutal fate, can you make the ultimate choice between your heart or your happily ever after?

includes: mentions of food, mentions of murder, talks of death, predator/prey dynamic, sword to neck trope, reader gets restrained, mentions of injuries, arranged marriage, enemies to lovers, unrequited love, slow burn, yandere!gojo, prince!gojo, princess!reader, reader is referred to as 'cerena', princess cerena has pink hair and feminine features, reader is in cerena's body, isekai-ed reader

⟡ masterlist

ACT 1, SCENE 3: THE VILLAGE

Life at this little village offered you a gentle respite from the fears eating at your soul, putting the memory of Satoru's bloodthirsty desires momentarily out of your mind.

Whilst under Aeva’s care, you learned how to use an old fire stove, sweep the floors with a broom made of brambles, and prepare some of Northern Haleway’s most famous fare—pigeon mince pies. 

In return, she offered you the room in her attic, a quaint, cozy space that did not perturb you with its lack of size but instead, reminded you fondly of your own bedroom back in your real world. 

When you weren’t busy with chores and cooking, Aeva gave you free rein to roam about the village with the condition that you were to never reveal your true identity to the poor villagers. You took her worries in stride, always leaving her home with your hood and cloak on; Cerena’s signature pink hair plaited neatly and wrapped under the scratchy hood. 

The reason for your excursions to town were simple: you wanted to find out the truth about why you were here in the first place. 

You struck up conversations with various healers, visited the village shaman, and even spent an hour talking to the friendly barman on the merits of body swapping and waking up in a different life. 

But, your research barely yielded anything fruitful.

It only served to increase your worries, driving you to the brink of a mental breakdown at the fact that you may never go back to your real world again. 

That you may never see your mother or listen to her laugh as you both drank rice wine on a veranda; happy memories illuminated by the sun setting over the paddy fields. You may never roll your eyes at your best friend’s piss poor attempts at setting you up on blind dates, or enjoy your morning commute with a cup of turmeric latte.

Every single thought drew you deeper into a pit of despair.

But, you knew you had to be strong. 

This was a temporary setback and you have to believe that you will return home. You have to believe that life would not be so cruel as to leave you stranded here, in a place where you were despised and ridiculed. You had to keep the faith; had to hold onto the hope that you would make it home in one piece. 

There was no other option. 

-

Satoru slowed his horse to a trot once he arrived in the market square, the guards flanking his sides dispersing to find you at his terse nod. 

Those unyielding blue eyes swept across the square, noting the various sellers and stalls surrounding him. The smell of horse dung and rotten food scraps burned through his nose with the force of a thousand fires, and he made a face, wanting nothing more than to get this search party over, find you and take you back to the King. 

For a man used to the trenches of war, peasant life will always astound him with its stink and squalor. Children with dirt-packed faces and blackened hands chase after each other. A skinny, malnourished dog feebly lifts its head when his horse trots by and a heavily pregnant woman with scars running down her arms gives him a scrutinizing look while she hangs up her linens to dry. 

Satoru intended to keep this visit brief, and he is no more looking forward to the reality of finding you than he is at the thought of how you would react.

It was obvious that this was one of your usual tantrums in retaliation for not getting what you want; an act of rebellion made to paint him in a bad light.

His jaw ticks and his mood darkens at the thought of what he would do if he ever saw you again.

First things first, Satoru wouldn’t hesitate to threaten you by sword point to return back to the castle. Then, he will interrogate you on where you had been, who you spoke to, how you escaped in the first place so he can put anyone and everyone who aided you in this resistance to the sword.

Those flinty cerulean eyes shift across the market square, hoping to find a glimpse of the hooded and cloaked figure Miri had informed him about. But, all his gaze does is meet more exhausted faces; the villager’s blackened, fatigued air drawing his lips downward into a grimace. 

He was close to redirecting the search party into the forest where he believed you would be hiding, when he sees the figure of his hunt.

A waifish, hooded and cloaked woman made her way past the fruit stalls, stopping to purchase an apple.

Satoru doesn’t spare another second. He threw his horse into a gallop, reaching for his sword and drawing it out of the scabbard.

The hooded woman seemed to sense his murderous intent for her all the way across the square and lifted her head.

Satoru’s eyes widened when he noticed the familiar slope of your nose; the parting of your cherubic lips frozen in a silent scream. 

“Cerena!” 

The blasted woman takes off, running as fast as she could straight to the forest’s edge. Satoru doesn’t know what compelled him to disembark off his horse, hastily tying the reins around an apple tree and tearing after you with his longer, stronger legs.

Your terrified expression seared through his brain when you turn around to flash him a pleading look. Satoru gritted his teeth, his larger lung capacity and fitter body making it easier for him to sweep past the trees, darting under the brushes and jumping over fallen logs to chase after you.

There is nothing but the thought of escape in your mind. 

As you weaved through the trees, bounding across brooks and fell logs, your breath came out in icy pants, crystalizing right in front of your face. 

You wanted to turn around and plead and beg with him to spare you, the sight of the broadsword in his hand pumping your veins full of adrenaline and the need to escape. Like a hounded prey, the predator behind you was closing in, near enough that you could hear his jagged breaths.

“Cerena—stop running!” 

You pushed yourself harder, ignoring his words, forcing your legs to bring you towards a gnarly apple tree. Using muscles you haven’t utilized since you were four when you were wildly swinging from jungle bars, you expertly swung your body up the tree, clambering the thick trunk and using the spruces as your support—trying to get off the ground and hide in the foliage so he would give up and leave you alone.

But, luck was never on your side, especially when it came head-to-head with Satoru’s determination.

He circled the tree you were hiding in, those frantic blue eyes darting through the thick leaves, trying to get a glimpse of you.

“Cerena, stop this madness at once and come back home!” Satoru bellowed, cheeks splotched red with anger and frustration. “You mad woman! Get down and face your repercussions, dammit!” 

A slight movement from the corner of your eye catches your attention, and you rush to unleash your dagger, cutting through the stem of the hornet’s nest just a few inches from you.

Sensing danger, they hummed, digging their stingers into your vulnerable hand, but you paid the bites of pain no mind—focused completely on evading Satoru.

The prince’s keen ears catch a rustle, like the sound of something being sawed and he looks up into the trees, jaw clenched and icy blue eyes wild.

“Cerena! What are you doing up there? Come down, dammit!” 

Without warning, a lump of something brown and scraggly falls right at his feet.

Satoru barely had time to react before he’s surrounded by a swarm of nasty wasps, stinger-triggered and ready to attack him. The sight of him swinging his broadsword to ward off the wasps would’ve been hilarious, if you didn’t use this as an opportunity to scamper down the apple tree and take off like your life depended on it. 

“—Cerena!” 

Your stomach sank to your feet as you quickly whipped your head back to catch him speeding up to you, the mottled flesh of his face from the wasp stings and those raging blue eyes shocking you through the core with pure, unadulterated fear. 

“Please!” 

You screamed, needing to run back to Aeva’s hut. She will protect you; she has to. 

Sliding into the clearing, you’re almost to the home run when you feel a hard tug around your neck. Your head jerks back and you go crashing to the ground, Satoru’s bigger body enveloping yours. 

“No—no!”

The shine of his sword nicks your neck, and you’re both breathing hard. 

Satoru’s fiery icy azure eyes bore right into you with such potent hatred, you throw your hands to your face, bracing for the blade to slice through your neck hotly. 

One second turned into two. His heavy breathing becomes a grunt, and he yanks you unceremoniously to your feet. 

His arm tightened around your trembling body, face a few inches from yours as he sneered. 

“You will pay for what you did to me.” Those reddened lesions from the wasps littering his neck and cheeks strike terror into your numbed heart. 

“If only you hadn’t ran away from me,” he clicked his tongue as if in disappointment, and to your mortification, brought out a coil of rope from his jacket. “Then, your punishment would not be so severe.” 

A hushed sob slips from between your gritted teeth as he lashed your hands together with the rope, tying it tightly enough so you wouldn’t think of running away from him again.

“Please,” you started to cry. “Please, do not hurt me. Do not harm me.”

He grunted, looping the tie into a double knot. “What in the devil are you blubbering about, woman? I have no intention of hurting you.”

Your tears trickled your cheeks like fragments of icy shards, slipping down your neck as you attempted to resist, pressing your bound palms to his broad chest and trying to push him away.

Satoru growled: “Cerena! Behave.” 

The flash of disgust and anger in his eyes instantly brought to mind how he had held the sword to your bare neck—how he had wanted to kill you. 

Terror seized your lungs, your scream shattering the calm quiet of the forest.

“Help me! Somebody help me! Please!” 

You sobbed loudly and with full abandonment, balking whenever he tried to reach out for you, batting your useless hands against his chest and neck to try and buy yourself some time for someone to help.

In the midst of the struggle with Satoru, you missed a wizened figure stepping out of the hut, her bow and arrow pointed right at the crowned prince.

Gojo, noticing the intruder in this scene, raised his eyes, sneering at the lowly woman who dared believe she can take him on with a flimsy weapon.

“You dare point that at me? The crowned prince of the region?” 

Aeva steadied her aim, the tip of the arrow quivering. The expression on her face was of fierce protectiveness, surging from seeing you being manhandled like a sack of potatoes by a man who was supposed to honor you as his fiancé.

For a brief moment, you felt a shining sense of hope—that you were going to be safe. 

But, he does not yield. Despite not saying a word, his frigid glare is all the loathing he needs to dissuade Aeva from releasing the arrow. Her rheumy eyes shifted from your tear-streaked face to his furious glare and to your dismay, she slowly lowered the weapon, letting it dangle by her side.

Your gasp rang with betrayal and alarm. “Aeva… please…”

Smug that he was let off without much of a fight, Gojo used his raw strength to lift you over his shoulder, your bound hands dangling across his back, your slippered feet kicking in mid-air.

“Please! Don’t let him harm me! Aeva! Aeva—” you choke off a broken sob, unable to bear her devastated expression through your tears. 

With every jarring step he took, you get further and further away from the safe house; from finding your answers and plotting your return back to your world.

Satoru didn't just tear your hopes of returning home from your hands, he also stomped them to the ground with the impending dread of his promise to Miri.

The promise to kill you should he see you again.

Crippling agony washed over you, enough to make you bitterly wail, your cries weaving through the trees as fearful images of your mangled body flashed through your mind, the end of your life brought about by this cruel prince's hand. 

“Enough with the dramatics,” Satoru muttered frostily as he trudged through the thick snow, reaching his behemoth of a stallion. With barely an iota of effort, he heaped you onto the saddle, giving your thigh a hard squeeze in warning not to do anything funny. 

Mounting behind you, he used his sturdier build to keep you caged in between his arms. Gripping the reins and snapping it once, his great white horse whinnies, moving to a trot as the forest and the safe house you spent these three blissful days in disappeared from your view. 

You never thought your fate would end up like this: bound atop a horse like fresh game being brought back after a hunt, while a sadistic man who wants nothing more than your demise sat behind you, stoic and silent despite your hushed cries.

Anguish welled deep in your soul, manifesting as endless tears streaming down your face which you tried desperately to hide from him. 

His voice broke through your frantic thoughts as a low, baritone warning. 

“I told you I will force you take accountability for your actions,” Satoru muttered darkly, slowing his horse to a cant.

Without any warning, he grasped your chin and tugged hard, eliciting a gasp of fear from you, forcing your teary eyes to meet his enraged ones. 

“And your punishment has only just begun, Princess.”

mtt fun fact: minced pigeon pies were brought to northern haleway by merchants from the south who introduced this alternative meat source during one of the country's harshest famines

dawn says: what kind of 'punishment' do you think satoru meant? 👀

!! reblogs and feedback and asks about this series are so beloved and appreciated and will motivate me to update and write faster <3

©️ all rights reserve to lalunanymph. do not copy elements of my story, repost or claim as your own.

[shebunie]

𝐈’𝐦 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲— 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤!

𝗠𝗼𝗱𝗲𝗿𝗻 𝗠𝗶𝘇𝘂 𝘅 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝟭𝟴+, 𝘀𝗽𝗮𝗻𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗱𝗼𝗺/𝘀𝘂𝗯 𝗱𝘆𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗶𝗰𝘀, 𝗽𝗼𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆, 𝗦𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗽-𝗼𝗻 (𝗿! 𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗲𝗶𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴), 𝗺𝘂𝗹𝘁𝗶𝗽𝗹𝗲 𝗼𝗿𝗴𝗮𝘀𝗺𝘀, 𝗵𝗮𝗶𝗿-𝗽𝘂𝗹𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴,𝗮𝗳𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗲. 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟭.𝟳𝗸 𝐀/𝐍: 𝘆𝗲𝗮𝗵, 𝗜'𝗹𝗹 𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗻𝗼𝘄

Apologies erupted from your lips, muffled by the sharp sting of another forceful slap. Your head bowed forward instinctively, seeking solace from the pain that radiated through your skin. Her fingers followed, working to alleviate the burn she had just inflicted.

"I’m sorry— fuck!" Your voice wavered as the yelp escaped, the desire for her attention overshadowing the discomfort. "Mizu, please. I'm sorry, I just wanted your attention."

"By being snarky?" Her words hung in the air, eyebrows furrowed in contemplation. A brief respite came as her hand left your rear, but hope was short-lived as a more resounding 'smack' resonated through the room, eliciting a moan from deep within you.

Her hand swiftly seized the tender skin, tears streaming down your face. "So, you just wanted my attention, huh?" She scoffed, shaking her head with a slow, disapproving motion.

"I'm sorry, I just—" You began, cut off by her probing question.

"You just what?" she inquired, nudging you back into her grasp. A desperate whine escaped your lips, accompanied by pleas and begs, yet it seemed insufficient for her desires.

Another slap landed on your flushed skin, her laughter mingling with the sight of your trembling form. "Use your fucking words," she demanded, the intensity of her grip increasing. 

"I need you to touch me, please, please," you moaned, aware of the effect your pleading had on her. However, supplications dwindled as she continued to scoff, her nails embedding into the softness of my flesh.

“Not gonna touch this needy pussy till you’ve learnt your lesson, ‘kay?”

A nervous gulp escaped your lips, causing your concentration to slip away like sand through fingers. Your mind was a haze, unable to grasp a suitable response. Did you make a mistake? Should an apology be offered, or was this an unexpected form of praise? As you began to utter, "Mizu—," your words morphed into a melodic moan.

“Take it like the good whore you are.” Her voice commanded with a tone that held a mix of authority and desire.

A sigh escaped her lips as she leaned in, trailing kisses down your neck. A whimper escaped you, sensing the pressure of her leg sliding between yours and against your cunt. "You understand what I crave at this moment, don't you, baby?" Her words were met with a nod from you.

" ‘Course, you do. So, shut up and let me fuck you, alright?"

A moan escaped your lips as you nodded once more, a warmth building between your legs. Her voice, with its low and perilous tone, held a captivating allure. Despite the intensity, it only fueled the anticipation, leaving your underwear damp in response to her assertiveness.

Mizu assertively guides you onto the soft bed, settling on top. 

"You enjoy this?" Mizu teases, noticing your dampened panties. "Who are they for? Me?" A playful swat at your cunt causes your body to jolt, and a feeble whimper escapes your throat.

“You!”

“That’s what I thought.” With a menacing tone, she sneers, her breath laboured. As her slender and weathered fingers slip beneath the moisture-laden fabric of your panties, a surge of tension hangs in the air. The tips of her fingers effortlessly glide through the wetness, revealing an intensity that leaves you breathless.

The air hung heavy with tension as she whispered, "You're practically dripping, all because of my teasing, naughty girl." Her voice carried a husky tone as two of her fingers traced a path down to the aching desire between your thighs, unabashedly diving in without a moment's hesitation.

Her fingers curled with a mischievous grin, effortlessly discovering that sweet spot within you that left you practically entranced. "Craving my touch, hmm? Speak up, baby, no playing coy with me," she taunted.

She continued with a mischievous glint in her eyes, "You like this, don’t you? I can sense it – a naughty whore finding pleasure in my merciless ways. Am I right?" A sigh escaped your lips as Mizu’s fingers continued their relentless thrust, driving you to new heights of ecstasy.

Suddenly, she withdrew her appendages, bringing them to her lips, sensually sucking your essence off and savouring it on her tongue. Desperation filled your voice as you pleaded, "Mizu, please... just fuck me, please."

She looked at you, her gaze intense. “You want me to fuck you? Want me to knock you up?” You nodded eagerly.

“Yes,” you stammered, desire evident. “I want you to ruin me, don't hold back.”

She gracefully moved away, diverting her attention to retrieve something. The anticipation hung in the air as you waited for her next move.

Coming back, she fastened the strap around her hips, her gaze fixed on your sopping pussy, the slippery essence gathering on your thighs like tiny droplets. A low grunt escaped her as she eagerly anticipated the moment when you would cum on her dick.

The size was substantial, measuring about six inches, its hue a deep purple adorned with distinctive ridges and impressive girth.

She traced the tip delicately along the sensitive terrain, delivering a few sharp taps with the strap against your clit.

Then, with a sudden motion, she thrust the entire thing into your pussy until it nestled snugly.

A cry escaped you instantly. "Take it, pretty," she commanded with a grunt, forcefully plunging into you while her thumb playfully teased your bundle of nerves.

"Mizu!" you exclaimed with a sense of urgency. She had just started passionately connecting with you moments ago, and you found yourself on the brink of ecstasy in mere minutes.

She gently lifted your legs onto her shoulders, drawing herself closer to you. As she leaned down, a surge of pleasure enveloped you, reaching a profound depth that made you see stars.

With a sly grin, she encouraged you, "There we go, keep cumming; such a wild little slut." A playful swat at your clit made you gasp, the intensity nearly pushing you to the brink of ecstasy.

Abruptly, Mizu withdrew, swiftly flipping you onto your stomach. In a bold move, she thrust her hips, penetrating you deeply.

Her firm grip on the back of your hair added an element of dominance, pulling your head back to allow her whispered words to tease your ear. The room pulsated with the electrifying energy of passion and desire.

She uttered in a husky whisper, "I'll continue fucking you till the only thing etched in that little head of yours is my name, and nothing more. Understand?"

You couldn't help but let out a series of breathless moans. "Mizu, I'm... I'm..." Your words trailed off into incoherent whispers as another wave of pleasure washed over you.

A cascade of warmth flowed down the lifelike surface of the silicone shaft, tracing a path along your trembling thighs and staining the sheets beneath you.

In a taunting tone, she coos, "Your pussy’s taking such a beating, she's practically begging for my mercy."

"Imagine if this were my real cock. Wouldn't you love that? Wish I could just fuck a baby right in you, get you all round and swollen, yeah?" 

In the heat of passion, she whispered breathlessly, "Gonna cum baby, gonna cum on you, soak you completely— oh, God!" Her groans filled the room as she wet her boxers, the intensity of her pleasure evident.

Despite the waves of ecstasy, she persisted with her rhythmic thrusts.

Simultaneously, you found yourself on the brink of a third orgasm. Your thighs trembled, and you became a symphony of moans, entangled in the shared euphoria of the moment.

You couldn't help but cry out her name, the walls of the room seemingly closing in as desire surged through you. Your climax loomed, a wave of pleasure gathering in the depths of your lower stomach.

"Mizu!" you gasped, voice filled with ecstasy.

"That’s it, louder f’me. Tell me how much you enjoy the way I ruin this pussy. My pussy is that right? who’s cunt is this? yours or mine?"

"Yours!" you fervently declared, teetering on the edge, the struggle to contain your desire becoming more challenging with each passing second.

Your breath hitched, and you gasped, "I'm about to cum, oh, Mizu, Mizu—"

"Yeah? You ready to cum? Ready to cream my cock? Gonna be dripping for me?" you affirmed with a nod. "Of course you are. Now, be good for me and let me have it. Let go."

Your hands desperately sought something to hold onto as overwhelming sensations engulfed you, intensifying with every primal thrust into your tender, swollen cunt.

Overwhelmed, you pleaded, "It's too much! Please, Mizu!" Your thighs trembled with intensity, and you sensed another surge of wetness escaping from between your legs.

Finally grasping the situation, Mizu delicately withdrew the cum-covered strap from your pussy. Her hands glided tenderly over your quivering thighs, offering a soothing touch.

"Was that truly too much? I'm sorry, baby. I got carried away in the moment. M’sorry," she apologized, pulling you gently against her chest.

You took a deep breath, the air filling your lungs as you tried to calm the storm of sensations that still lingered. Mizu's embrace provided a sense of security, and her apologetic tone reassured you.

"It's just... intense," you admitted, your voice shaky. The room, dimly lit and filled with the aftermath of your shared passion, seemed to echo with the echoes of pleasure that still reverberated through your body.

Mizu tilted your chin up to the side over your shoulder, her eyes locking onto yours with a mixture of concern and desire. "I want every experience with you to be perfect. Tell me what you need."

A smile played on your lips as you reached for her hand, fingers intertwining. "Just a moment," you whispered, feeling the warmth of her skin against yours.

Together, you melted into the silence, the only sound the rhythmic beating of your hearts.

As the haze of ecstasy began to lift, Mizu traced circles on your back, her touch like a comforting melody that played in harmony with your heartbeat. "I never want to push you too far," she murmured, her lips brushing against your forehead. "But I also want you to experience everything you desire."

The vulnerability in her eyes mirrored your own, creating a bridge between your souls. You marvelled at the trust that had grown between you, a trust that allowed you to explore the depths of pleasure together.

Leaning back, you gazed into Mizu's eyes, a silent understanding passing between you. In that shared moment, the weight of the world lifted, leaving only the connection that bound you together.

"Let's take it slow," you suggested, a playful glint in your eye. Mizu chuckled, her fingers tracing a delicate path along your spine.

Mizu smiled warmly, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "Absolutely, my love. Your comfort is my priority."

[milkloafy]

REST AND RESPITE — DAN HENG

⋆｡˚ ❀ summary: dan heng finds himself growing fond of your outgoing and talkative nature. one day, when you’ve holed yourself in your room, he can’t help but worry about you. ⋆｡˚ ❀ wc: 1.0k  ⋆｡˚ ❀ a/n: shhh i haven’t played 2.1 or 2.2 update yet so dan heng is still chilling in the express to me <3 wrote this while sleep deprived and accidentally made dan heng softer than planned :> 

After the events that transpired at the Xianzhou Luofu, Dan Heng decided he needed the time to rest and reflect. He hoped March 7th and Trailblazer had a successful mission—he would surely join them again soon—but he knew he wouldn’t be giving his best effort if he were to go in his current state.

He decided a few moments of peace and quite would do him some good.

Unfortunately for him, however, you also stayed on board the Astral Express for the next mission. 

Peace, he would still get. Dan Heng enjoyed your presence and the two of you had gotten closer over the years. But quiet… That was another story. Ever since you had joined the Astral Express, the halls wer filled with sounds of your laughter. On the nights you and March 7th had a sleepover planned, Dan Heng found himself needing earplugs, to put it kindly. 

Despite the noise not being his typical preference, he noticed himself finding comfort in the liveliness and warmth you brought. Which is why, when a day came where he did not hear you chatting with Pom-Pom or Welt during your scheduled afternoon snack, Dan Heng began to grow concerned. After only brief contemplation, he walked down the hallway and knocked on your door, your favorite breakfast bar in hand. 

“Y/N?” he called through the wall.

“Oh— Come in,” you said, your voice distant. 

When he opened the door, he saw you curled up on the small sofa inside your room—your conversation area for guests, you had told him. You had a blanket wrapped around you and a slow-paced instrumental piece playing from your radio. 

You waved as you looked up at him with a smile. “Hi there.”

“Hello.” Dan Heng extended the breakfast bar out to you. “I noticed you haven’t come out to eat yet. Thought you might be hungry.” 

Your eyes brightened as you accepted the snack, expressing your thanks with a bow of your head.

“Is everything okay?” he asked once you took a bite. Though you didn’t look terrible, he still was unable to shake his worry. “You have been quiet today.”

You let out a small laugh, though it sounded unnaturally forced. “I’m sure you’re grateful for these few moments of silence.”

“Not when your wellbeing is in question.”

Your gaze warmed as his thoughtful words, patting the cushion next to you and beckoning him to take a seat. He obliged, feeling the warmth radiating from your body as his right arm pressed against you. Dan Heng quite enjoyed the warmth. You offered him the corner of your blanket and he shook his head, smothering a chuckle of amusement. 

Once the two of you settled in, you said, “I’ve just been having bad dreams all night.” You paused, as if deciding how much more you wanted to share. “They were about my time…before the Astral Express.”

Dan Heng nodded in understanding. You did not have to say more. The Express welcomed all types of people, each with vastly different backgrounds. Everyone came from unique places and sometimes they were not the best ones. He was unable to verbalize this feeling of empathy out loud to you, but he hoped you sensed that he was there for you.

“I’m not really thinking about it anymore,” you assured, your tone rushed. “Now I’m just exhausted but haven’t been able to sleep.”

He hummed to himself. You seemed tired, even a bit troubled. Perhaps even someone like you needed time alone. But something told him that, for this particular situation, that didn’t seem to be the case.

Clearing his throat, he spoke up. “If you think it will help, you are welcome to join me in the Archives today. I still have some entries to input, but if you would like some company, I’ll be there.”

You straightened up in your seat, eyes wide with excitement, before a flash of hesitancy crossed your face.

“It…won’t be bothersome to you?” 

“You’re never a  bother,” he said firmly. “Though, perhaps your slumber parties with March 7th while I’m trying to sleep may be.” 

That earned a laugh out of you. “Well, if you joined us one night, maybe you would see the appeal. Even Caelus joins sometimes!” 

Dan Heng smiled at that. “Perhaps you are right.”

You nodded and said matter-of-factly, “Don’t knock it ‘til you try it.”

He chuckled, happy to see a glimpse of your normal self coming out. Seeing you dejected and downcast was something he hated to witness, though he knew everyone had those moments. They were inevitable, after all. But Dan Heng wished he could always be there for you during those times.

It was natural to feel that way towards a good friend, he told himself. If he said it enough, maybe he would be convinced. 

So why did he feel his heart race when you asked him to help you up from the couch? And why was he glad you didn’t let go of his hand even after you stood up?

Dan Heng wet his lower lip as he glanced at your connected hands. They were not even interlocked—just barely brushing—yet he still reacted in such a way. He looked over at your face and noticed a bashful smile gracing your features. It was a sight he wasn’t exactly used to seeing, but it was pleasant nonetheless. 

Perhaps similar thoughts flashed through your mind about him. Did your heart also race when the two of you made close contact? Did your stomach flutter at his touch? He wanted to ask, but chose to hold back for now. You were distraught and vulnerable from your difficult night, and he thought it was more important to help you feel calm and well-rested first. 

But as he caught you sneaking glances at him before looking away with a coy expression, Dan Heng knew he wouldn’t be able to hold back for long. Still, patience was a virtue and he was confident that it would pay off. 

Soon, he promised himself. Dan Heng caught your eye and this time, you didn’t look away. He smiled and you returned it tenfold. Very soon.

[shiny-jr]

from DIASOMNIA

- Warning: Yes, this is still a yandere thing. You have been warned. Gender-neutral reader. 

- Characters: Malleus Draconia, Lilia Vanrouge, Silver, Sebek Zigvolt.

- Summary: (Continuation, after this “we just got a letter, wonder where it’s from”) You have barred them from entering the safety of Ramshackle Dorm, but they are determined to make their words reach you. Which is why the letters begin arriving at your doorstep.

- Note: This is just the first part, only with Diasomnia. I’ll post the rest later once its written. For now, I hope you enjoy this part! Oh, and this was inspired by the mention of letters @qierxing​‘s fic inspired by the whole imposter au idea. So yeah. Hopefully I caught all the mistakes in this post because I am not rereading all that again.

Diasomnia   |   Ignihyde

Among the first letters you pick is carefully sealed in a black envelope. You found it peculiar that Grim, who had offered to use his claws to open the envelopes, hadn’t been able to cause the slightest tear as if it were being protected by some magic. But it opened with ease during your first attempt to rip it open.

You didn’t care much for the wax family crest that had sealed it, or the black envelope itself. Maybe it would feel liberating to just set them all ablaze as soon as you finished skimming over the carefully written words.

To my dearest human,

I understand the pain I have caused you.

Ever since that moment I betrayed you, all I have seen in my vision and in my mind is your expression of terror. It tortures me. Your terror spurred by my actions and my very own hands. I am your most beloved and loyalest of companions in this world, and yet, had my retainers behind those doors not intervened, you would have been gone forever. And it would have been all my doing, all my fault.

I write this letter to apologize, but as I write this, I realize that there is no forgiving what has been done. Ever. No matter how I plead or what comes from my lips. But I will say this: there are no amount of words that can truly convey how sorry I am. This will haunt me for the remainder of my centuries of life.

Agonizing thoughts plague my mind and torment me at all hours of the day and night, at every and each moment. Even now, I reflect on everything I had done to harm you. While, the time I believed in those falsehoods was minuscule compared to the days others knew and acted upon it, the fact still stands that I was too easily deceived by mere rumors alone. I was blinded by my rage when I heard that someone dared to impersonate you and had been the probable cause of your vessel’s malfunction, that I did not even take a brief respite to consider the validity of the information that reached my ears.

Believe me, although I realize you have no reason to hold even a shred of faith in a single word I say and for that I would not blame you, but I will atone for the crimes I have committed. In any way possible. Even if it takes my entire lifetime, I will continue forward until I have achieved this goal and you may smile upon me once again. There is a human saying, which if I recall correctly I believe goes something like, forgive but never forget. Well, I would beg for forgiveness, while knowing full well that my misdeeds will never truly be forgotten. The harm I inflicted will leave scars that will never fully fade.

For every scratch my nails left on your delicate flesh, you may drive vines of the sharpest thorns against my own skin until blood pools all around me. For every bruise from my hand that tainted you, I would hand you an iron sword to use as you wish against me until you believe I’ve had enough. If it pleased you, I would even utilize my magic to transform into a figure with wings, which I would then proceed to sever the wings by my own hand and offer them to you on a silver platter.

Any punishment you can think of, I would readily accept.

Although living with the guilt of my mistakes and knowledge of the weight of my actions against you, is by far the most painful torture I’ve ever known.

If I do not receive word from you soon, I fear I may go insane with my own guilt. Yet I know I bring this upon myself. And if I were to go insane, if I was not insane this entire time already, you are all that would be in my thoughts. You are all that would remain in the part of my mind that is intact. You are currently and have been all that I think of, so perhaps my sanity is already long gone.

I would venture into the deepest crevices of hell and back, just to prove my worth to you. Even if I must be punished for the rest of my life, so be it. But I implore you to allow me to redeem myself, let yourself bear witness to the incredible feats I may accomplish in your name. Redemption... The thought of perhaps one day receiving the blessing of your smile and your grace once more in the near or distant future, is the light at the end of the tunnel in this dark period of my existence. I am yours. Whether you still desire me or not, I will forever be yours, and I will brave through trials of fire to demonstrate my eternal devotion to you.

Just know that I will do everything in my power to please you. Whether it be to fulfill the judgement you cast upon me, to demonstrate my worth and determination to achieve redemption, or simply because you command it so, it shall be done. 

For now, I will wait on your response and deliberate over my next course of action. Should you desire anything, anything at all, wether it be something as simple as traveling to the store for a purchase, you have a moment of recluse and desire company, or if you command me to move the island or clear the very heavens, all you must do is speak my name. Then, consider it done. Once my name is upon your lips, I will be there as the last syllable leaves your tongue. 

I will await the moment I am summoned.

Forever yours,

Malleus Draconia

That was... unnerving. Your hand unconsciously drifted up to the slight puncture wounds on your neck. They had long since dried, but you vividly remember feeling the thin trail of crimson being drawn and dripping down like a steady stream. 

You could remember the way Malleus withdrew as soon as he realized the truth, like he had been burned with his hands on you in that fashion. The blood, your blood, staining his sharpened nails. The red was deeper than any nail polish or ink. 

You were nearly sent spiraling, until you felt a tap and the texture of paper against your arm. When you glance down, you see Grim pressing his paws with another crumpled letter onto you. The ink on this letter is red, but the feline’s wide curious eyes are a glowing blue. 

“You okay? What’s so interesting about that wall you’re lookin’ at? You’re kinda just staring off into nothing there.” 

Offering a grateful nod to Grim who frowned worriedly, you accept the already opened envelope while tossing aside the letter from Malleus. “I’m good. Just... thinking.” 

Lifting a hand, you place your palm against his head and scratch the spot behind his ears. Grim lets out a content purr and holds a bag of junk food, which he probably found among the mountain of gifts, and curls up beside you. You continue the slow and soothing scratches as you use your freehand to unravel the letter Grim brought you from the towering stacks. 

This envelope was already cut open. It was a light brown and more square-shaped as thin rope kept it tied together. It had a mash of colorful strings that formed a messy bow to top it off. At least, you assumed it was meant to be a bow, but it looked more like a messy knot that would be impossible to untangle. Good thing it was already partially cut by Grim’s claws earlier. 

As mentioned, the ink was red, an interesting choice. While the handwriting was not as elegant as Malleus’ letter. Some words were written neatly, before falling off the line and blending with other words. Making it a bit difficult to read, but you managed. 

If you’re reading this, 

This means that I am not irredeemable in your eyes. 

Had I been beyond redemption, you would have not even opened this letter. If this was a lost cause, a merry dance, this paper would’ve been tossed into the trash without a second thought. But, my words have reached you. You’re reading this right now, aren’t you? It’s why I decided to write this. I could predict the actions you’d take. You are different from your vessel, but it’s only natural that you would act similarly to the silly little doll you controlled, the same doll that sparked this whole fiasco. 

I truly am so sorry if I frightened you. While I will admit, it was my intention to strike fear into your heart and use you to serve for another dubious purpose, that was when I hadn’t recognized you. Although, I know this doesn’t mean much to you, I figured I should be entirely honest to you. It’s the least I can do. I’m such a fool for being quick to believe the rumors like some sort of senseless child.

All I can do now, is remain true and offer up my loyalty. It’s nothing compared to the mistakes I made, and I’ve made plenty, but I know an apology will never suffice. So, even if you’re still uncertain about redemption, I’ll remain loyal. Among all the beings and creatures I’ve met in my lifetime, you remain an enigma. You’re human, but at the same time, you’re different. There continues to be so much I do not know of you. I wonder, could you hear me whenever I spoke to your plaything? Do you recall the stories I told, of my time as a reckless youth? Foolhardy, wild, that I was. But I was also fiercely loyal. For the Draconias, I razed down all foes like wheat in a field. 

Now that I consider it, perhaps it's best if you hadn’t heard me recount those tales. While I had been eager to share with you my experiences and act out my thrilling adventures, perhaps my story telling was much too graphic. I wouldn’t want the vivid details of bloodshed to be cause for alarm as our most recent encounter was far from pleasant. You have to forgive me, sometimes I get carried away when narrating my accomplishments and exploits. I’ll share more light-hearted memories with you the next time we meet. 

Our first meeting with your true self really went abysmally, didn’t it? I know that things never really go as planned, so I don’t bother planning such things in advance. But, I had pictured it to be a lovely moment. Silver and Sebek would look at you with shining eyes and proclaim their loyalty as they had practiced vows over and over again for such an occasion, I would get to embrace your true form and unlock your secrets, and of course Malleus would be truly content for once as he finally received the company he deserved. 

But, as expected, things didn’t go accordingly. 

Those three youths are miserable, thinking of the proper words to pen, a way to apologize for the suffering they’ve caused. But now, we are the ones suffering because we hurt you. 

They write and write, but tear their letters over and over again as they believe no words they’ve written so far are adequate. Soon they’ll realize that no words will ever be sufficient for an apology. Even if they were to create new words that are unheard of by any dictionary, it would not come close to being enough. That’s why I’ve decided to stick with this single attempt, because I already know that nothing I ever write will measure up to being acceptable. 

There is something about you that always leaves me bemused. Your grace left me feeling dizzy and giddy, like I was experiencing a little crush again, although this was much more intense than any crush. The truth about your vessel controlled by you, had me perplexed as I had never heard of such a thing. And well, the disastrous chase that followed your arrival... you know that part well and could assume how I feel about that from what I’ve told you. At present, all I can do is remain loyal, for what my loyalty is worth to you. Beyond that, despite having an abundance of experiences, there is no such situation that could have prepared me for this moment. 

Genuinely, I am stumped once again. I cannot even envision what can be done with my own two hands, that can be worthy of your attention once again and earn me redemption. But, you can be certain of one thing, and that is: my loyalty is undying. I still have a few years left in these old bones of mine, and I will use the rest of my life to serve you. 

Whether you want me or not. If you still want me, I will be of use to you. Whatever you are in need of, a soldier, a plaything, a companion, or even someone to take out your anger on. I shall be it. If you don’t want me, I will still be there. I will always be there to smile and lift your spirits like you once did for me through your doll. 

I eagerly wait for word from you. 

Until we meet again soon, 

Lilia Vanrouge

None of these letters were comforting in the slightest. In fact, they only placed you further on edge. For a moment, you considered stopping it here after only two and getting rid of the rest. 

Grim by now had settled in your lap, and looked up at you with those watchful blue eyes. Had he been staring at you the entire time? 

“Let me guess, they’re not taking it well?” 

“No, not at all.” You answer with a grimace. If this was how they were like now, you didn’t even want to know how they acted when they found out your vessel stopped working over a week ago. 

“Huh, sucks for them.” The feline stretched out, his claws poking out for a moment before quickly retracting as he plopped back down on his back with his stomach up. Maybe it was his own attempts to fill the silence, or to let you know you weren’t alone, but he eventually groaned. “Hey, read me one. I wanna know what they say.” 

Unable to say no to your companion, you nodded slowly and smiled weakly, “Alright, alright, let’s see what we have here...” 

You plucked out a random letter with neat packaging. However, just because the exterior was pretty, didn’t mean the interior message would be. You learned that already from the last two letters you had read. 

This envelope looked somewhat similar to the last one, square-shaped and tied closed with string. However, instead of the knot of ribbons on it, it held a simpler gift. The brown rope around it was tied in a neat bow, and between the string were lavender stems with a small branch of wild berries. 

Grim immediately indulged in the berries and the flowers, staining his little fangs and whiskers with the sweet sticky juice and purple petals. All the while exclaiming, “Oh, oh! I remember this letter. Some bird came to drop it and it flew away just before I could catch it...” 

A short laugh escaped your lips as you hear him. “So that’s why you were grumbling this morning.” 

Not wanting to be reminded again, he swat his paw at your nose as the feline hissed, “Shh! Just read already!” 

Dear player, 

I truly am deeply remorseful and I offer my sincerest apologies. 

I was to be a knight, that has been something I have strived for ever since I was a child. A knight not just to serve Malleus but to protect others, and eventually I discovered my purpose was to serve you as well. But... all I did was stand idly by and watch the torment. Shortly after meeting your vessel, I had promised to shield you from all danger. I broke that promise. 

I cannot imagine how frightened you must have been. Had just one person stop and thought things through, they may have realized the horrible mistake that was being made. Had I acted as soon as I felt the tug on my heart when I saw you weakened and on the dirt, I may have saved you from anymore pain. 

Those eyes, your eyes, I see them in my sleep. You were scared, and through your gaze you were pleading for help, were you not? I see it every time I close my eyes. You witnessed it yourself, the very moment when I had failed you. You were right there, so close I could have extended a helping hand. But my grief rendered me sightless, all I could think of in that moment is how my heart ached and how I longed to see you again. Even if it was through your vessel. The rumors didn’t quite make any sense to me, as I wondered how could anyone possibly be so cruel as to tear you away from us? 

Father had said that it would all be over soon. That capturing the imposter and bringing them to their knees, would make everything better. But when I saw you on the ground before we learned of your identity, I couldn’t help but wonder if this was alright. Would the player have wanted this? Would they have scorned upon witnessing the scene? Would this undoubtedly end the throbbing pain I felt in my heart? The pain was becoming unbearable, and I was not the only one to feel it. The news made little sense to me. Sebek insisted that it was true, and Father seemed to believe so as well. However, that is no excuse for how I went along as if it were okay. 

You were innocent and helpless, you, the player, not only witnessed the scene but were the victim. I’m so sorry, I should have done something... If it were the only way to gain your forgiveness, I would spend every moment of my waking hours writing letters of apology. To do so I would keep myself awake for as long as humanely possible. If asked, I would use every moment to pen these letters, each different from the last. Although after several attempts in redoing this single letter, I realize that it would be a pointless endeavor. 

After reflecting, the only way to make up for what I have do is be patient. 

Be patient and await for word from you. I cannot force you, I cannot pressure you, I can only pause and prepare myself to do whatever I must in order to earn back your grace. 

Please, do not keep me waiting too long. I know I have no right to ask you this. I’m willing to wait years if needed, but part of me has this fear that I will never regain a spot near your heart until I’m frail and feeble with age. Rest assured, even in old age, I would be willing to be your knight. Even if my bones ached, I would raise my sword and shield. If I couldn’t use my weakened legs, I would call upon a horse to be my steed. And if I were to become magicless, I would use the remainder of my physical strength to serve you. 

If I may be honest with you? I have no idea what to do. Yes, I said I would wait, but what else can I do? What can I do to eventually secure a place beside you, if it were possible? In times of trouble I normally turn to Lilia and Malleus for advice, however, I am a bit unsettled by their approach to this delicate matter. Truthfully, I am anxious, but while they share the sentiment, they are oddly confident that things will turn out alright in the end. I am unsure how they can muster the self-assurance to quell their fears. Maybe they know something that I do not, and have decided not to share this secret for now... 

Nevertheless, for now I’ll eagerly anticipate the day we can reunite just as I have dreamed. I greatly look forward to the second where not only I can see you smile once again and your eyes might finally look at me with content, but also the moment where all those I know might get the opportunity to be in your peaceful grace. 

I’ve dragged this letter on for too long. If you were to take something away from this letter, let it be this: I will carry out your wishes. No matter what you may think of me, whether it be a positive or negative image in your mind, I will continue forward in your name. Even if you think me unfit for the title of knight, then consider me a humble servant instead. Nothing will shake my commitment, and I will do whatever it is you ask. 

This is a pledge that will not be broken. 

Cordially, 

Silver

This letter felt a bit lighter than the others. Still, it was slightly intense in its own way, but it was nowhere near as extreme as the previous two were. And, maybe you had a better opinion on Silver, not because he was gentle with his words but because he was one of the very few who hadn’t threatened you, directly harmed you, or treated you cruelly. 

But! He didn’t get a free pass just because of that. Yes, he may not have directly caused any harm, but he didn’t exactly help you either. 

Grim had taken the letter from you, and inspected the paper in his paws. He held it above his head, scrunching up his nose a bit as he looked it over. “I dunno... he’s okay.” 

At that, you roll your eyes a bit as a smirk crept up from the corner of your mouth. “You’re not just saying that because his letter came with a snack?” 

“No! You think me easy to bribe? I think not! It would take a whole bucket full of berries just to get me to even discuss it. Then, I’d turn them down and take the berries anyways!” The feline proclaimed his brilliant plan should that situation ever arise. Maybe the gifts you allowed him to take were starting to get to his head. “But... he could be worse. Silver, as dumb as he was like everyone else, he did hear me out after they separated us.” 

Silver did that? If that were true, it’s possible that he wasn’t as bad as the others who had wronged you.

“That’s... good to know.” You murmur as you pluck up another random envelope from the pile. 

The last envelope you pick up before you planned to take a break was surprisingly plain. It was just that. A plain white envelope, sealed by green wax with what looked like a family crest that depicted a creature with fangs and scales. One of the corners was crinkled, as if it was gripped too tightly there. 

As soon as you slid out the folded letter, you were bombarded by the ink. Whoever had wrote this, seemed like they applied too much force. This caused certain parts of some letters to be too round and heavy with ink that made those bits feel damp and stain your fingers the slightest bit. Like whoever wrote this, placed just as much pressure with their hands on the pen gliding across the page, as much pressure as they felt weighing on their mind. 

Great Player, 

As I pen this, I am on my hands and knees.

I have prepared a multitude of letters which I will send daily, so that now and in the future you will continue to hear my apology and know I truly mean it. One admission of regret is not enough. An apology is only an acknowledgment of an offense, it does not absolve one of their wrongdoings. I know this! So, I, Sebek Zigvolt, will atone by any means necessary! 

To you, the player who I wronged and deserves nothing but happiness and perfection, I give my deepest sincerest profuse apology. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m SORRY. Right now when I look at my hands that I use to write, I’m reminded of the vicious way I grabbed you like some... heathen! These hands sullied your flawless self, and for that alone I will never forgive myself!

Had it not been for the wise words of Master Lilia and the bothersome yet logical reasoning from Silver, I would have been at your door everyday, every hour, begging for a second chance. In the midst of brainstorming, I presented my idea of crawling on hands and knees, from Diasomnia to the Ramshackle Dorm, to deliver the letter myself. Then, I would display whatever cuts or bruises formed on my palms and knees which I would receive from the rocky roads or thorns, that way you may see my devotion was true and no lengths are too great when it comes to you! No matter the pain or burden! The idea seems to appeal to Lord Malleus, but I was told that it comes off as too extreme...

But! I beg to differ!! I only consider it so that you may understand what I feel, so that you might comprehend the things I would do for you, and receive me back in your good graces! Additionally, delivering the letter in this manner would cause me as much or more physical pain than I caused you! It is a shame that things have come to this. I had wished so much for our first proper meeting to be one of joy where you might accept me as your knight! In spite of that, I will not falter in shame! If I were to deliver the following letters in that method I had detailed earlier, I would wear the scars proudly! It would be physical proof of my faithfulness towards you! 

I am sorry, and I will continue to say it. Perhaps, this may be presumptuous of me, but if you consider it, Diasomnia did not torment you nearly as long as any other insolent dorm had! And! We retainers accompanied Lord Malleus every day to check on the wellbeing of your vessel, and watch over it while investigating various possible approaches on how to revive Yuu. We diligently did this until the moment we encountered your true self! 

I swear to you, no one shall harm you from this moment forth! 

From now on, I’ll march forward and see to it that you are never hurt ever again! This is something I know that my fellow dormmates will tirelessly work toward as well. 

Have you realized that we have been guarding you and the serenity of your dorm in the past days? Have you not thought it strange that none have come to needlessly pester you? Yes, that is all thanks to the efforts of those in Diasomnia! Even when you do not realize it, we are insuring your welfare and the tranquility you require to recover! Of course, as much as I desperately want to inform you of the details, I will not. It is best you don’t know. 

Now, I must be honest with you. Originally, I had planned this letter to be much longer and have contents that would have been much different than what you are currently reading. I aimed to be honest in my feelings! But before I could sign off on the original draft, I realized that the others may be in the right. It is possible that our devotion, my devotion, may come off as disquieting if I were completely sincere. I’ve had to restrain myself on many occasions, reminding myself to at least appear collected and controlled. That is not as easy as it sounds! 

How could it be, when the one I must suppress my emotions and actions for, is you? That’s as if asking to repress part of my very soul and heart! I absolutely detest hiding it!! But when I remember this is for you and your own comfort, it becomes bearable. I can only hope that soon, very soon, I might be able to unveil my true sentiments towards you! As intense and extreme as they may be! 

It seems that I’m nearing the word limit that they imposed. Once again, I apologize. I’ll have to contemplate new ways to write ‘sorry.’ I wish I could write a million more words for you! But even a million words wouldn’t be anywhere near a satisfactory amount for me to detail how much I revere you! And it would take more than another million words for me to write a full apology, but even then I wouldn’t be satisfied! No single letter is adequate enough, so be prepared to receive the rest I have written! 

I will make sure they are delivered posthaste! 

Faithfully, 

Sebek Zigvolt 

Great... you’re back to being unnerved again. 

There was something about them all being so weirdly obsessed, but in vary different ways. Malleus and Lilia puzzled you, they had you feeling the most uneasy by far. Maybe it had to do with the fact that they were both not human, they were arcane beings with enigmatic personalities and objectives that were incomprehensible to you. 

Out of the four, Silver was the only one that was fully human like yourself, but even he was a bit of a mystery as he was raised by the fae. It was hard to be wary of him, which was probably because your distrust and fear of him wasn’t as intense as it was towards the others due to his good nature and lack of actions he took during the whole disaster. 

As for Sebek, well, he was unnerving in his own right but it was nowhere near on the level that Malleus and Lilia were on. At the very least he wasn’t a complete mystery to you. It was easy to figure out his intentions, because he either said them or wore them on his sleeve. 

Your mind was spinning as you looked over the four letters, filled with lines upon lines and more lines of pages. In that moment your breath quickened as you noticed the cloudy sky outside. For a brief second, you feared you would see that familiar flash of green lightning, taking you back to that dark day when you nearly died. It’s like you could feel Sebek’s hands tightly gripping the back of your skull that forced you against the earth, you saw Silver’s sorrowful gaze that spoke a thousand words you didn’t yet understand, you heard Lilia’s words hinting to a doomed fate of becoming some lifeless doll, and god, you couldn’t forget him even if you wanted to. Malleus. He was the worst of all. You felt his nails and fingers constricting around your neck and squeezing out all the air, you saw his haunting green eyes with those slit pupils as he glowered at you with such anger and hate, and you heard what you had thought would be the last words you ever heard come from his lips––

“Hey!” 

You were torn out of those dark thoughts by the feline in your lap. A concerned frown tugged at Grim’s lips, but once he saw he had your attention, he mustered a slight grin as he held up what looked like an armful of snacks. At least, as much as he could carry in his small paws. From his grin, you could see his little fangs still covered in the remnants of the berries and flower petals.

“Look, I found your favorite! This is getting boring, so let’s just take a break!”

[azuries]

a brief moment of respite (a sees!ryoji ryomina animatic)

i put a poll on twt on which animatic i should do first, and this won!

this was so fun to do, i hope you all enjoy it!! im so excited and proud to share it heehee

[thepinkdreamganjaqueen]

Run Rabbit

Homelander x Fem Reader 

Masterlist 🩷

Summary: Homelander spots you assisting first responders helping those less fortunate in a building fire. People he wouldn’t normally bother helping or even caring about. It’s just his job and a mundane and boring one at that. But you caught his eye. You selflessly cared for them, helping them. It disgusts him. HE needs your help! It makes him want to make you dirty, to spoil your spirit, to make you like him, and what the Homelander wants, he takes.

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, oral (m and f receiving), piv, unprotected sex, breeding, gaslighting, coercion, DUBCON, praise, begging, mentions of violence, stalking, swearing, obsession, D/S implications, mentions of death (implied), blood play, choking, kidnapping, Stockholm syndrome, dacryphilia, mommy issues (brief mention)… It’s homelander… 

A/N: My head Is so full of fuck! I had to get a Homelander fic out in the midst of all these fics I’m grinding on! This man, being of pure perfection, got me in a damn chokehold!! Why do we always tend to go for the guys that are walking red flags? Like, I can fix him! On a more serious note, these characters are all endearing in their own way. Trauma can manifest into some pretty terrible things, and I think we can all relate to that in some way or another. I tried to keep it short... that did not happen you know how it goes. Please, I hope y’all enjoy this one! And as always, I welcome, ideas, comments and criticisms, but please be nice. Cheeers! 

Word Count: 6.3k

Tags: fem!reader, smut, dark content 

RUN RABBIT 

He watched as you helped those around you. He had been for a while now, just out of view of the bustling crowds beginning to form and watch the commotion. He watched as you gave aid to those less fortunate. The vulnerable people you had pledged to help so long ago. It was your job and came naturally to you. He watched as the building continued to burn growing fiercer with each moment that passed. Fire reflected in his eyes with a look of discernment, perhaps even disgust, but all he could seem to focus on was you. He watched as you gave people solace and respite, watched as your hair clung to the sweat on your face from the heat of the flames, how your ample chest rose and fell as you breathed shakily, helping the local paramedics and EMT’s. You gathered supplies and handed out bottled water to those affected. A fire had broken out at the shelter. It was an old building, probably not up to date on fire regulations and things of that nature. It housed approximately 80 people that evening. You rushed about frantically helping in any way you could. A bleeding heart, he thought.  

He felt a mixture of abhorrence and lust. Something about the way you cared for those he considered beneath him. He couldn’t understand, his distaste for humanity growing every day. Yet, something about the way you cared for them, in a loving, and motherly way, so perfect. It stirred his loins and a deep longing simmered within him, a feeling he was quick to extinguish. He often had these troubled thoughts paired with erections. It was nothing new. Trauma manifesting into sexual desires as a coping mechanism. He hastily grabbed at his crotch, shifting his bulge within his suit.  

He was above it all anyway. Humans merely play things for him, entertainment. Like a fox chasing a rabbit, you became his prey. He would make you his new toy and break you. He wanted to make you dirty, to make you like him. He wanted to ruin you. He had to be methodical about this, but still, it would be easy, he thought. Conquests were never a challenge for him. He was handsome, had charm, and could put on a “friendly” demeanor if he needed to. Plus, he was a supe. If he couldn’t get a woman with his A lister status alone, he could simply force her to be with him. He would do what was necessary. He preferred little to no effort, but he couldn’t lie to himself. Sometimes, he liked the chase. Both literally and figuratively. He was like a predator. Cold, calculated. Run little rabbit, he’d think to himself. Seeing lesser beings and their pathetic attempts to escape him was his favorite kind of entertainment and maybe even gave him the feeling of joy. If only for a short time. He often found himself bored, tired of the mundane. Meetings at Vought HQ, Ashley up his ass, saving…. People. His disgust caused a visceral reaction. Tonight, he would find entertainment to chase that elusive high.  

He flew over, hovering then lowering himself as he outstretched his arms, palms down as if to quell the crowd’s murmurs and bestow peace. A façade, he couldn’t care less. He had ulterior motives. “Don’t worry, everyone, everything’s under control” he spoke. Sure, he initially showed up to do what The Homelander does… be a hero. But you caught his eye, something more interesting and surer to be more giving than the appreciation of his adoring fans and the thrill of an applauding crowd. He wanted the pleasure of seeing you beg for him. Soon. He thinks to himself with a mischievous look crossing his lips. He is staring at you as he lands. You thought he looked your way but couldn't be sure. He began that repetitive, mundane, and ever so grueling process of saving these pathetic souls. He darts in and out of the building, grabbing them one by one at a crawling pace ‘for him’. Everyone in the crowds cheered on as you watched this man help people.  

It was no unordinary feat truly. Supes were common, and Homelander was the most well-known. The leader of the seven, Americas hero. Nevertheless, you watched on as he effortlessly helped people get out safely. You caught yourself admiring his physique, he was essentially perfect. No wonder, you thought. It’s as if he was made to be perfect. His charismatic smile, striking blue eyes, chiseled jawline, and athletic build. You found yourself breathing heavier, face flushed, racy thoughts manifesting. You were still in that moment, watching how his suit would singe from the flames that brushed and flicked against him. Embers flew from the fabric and fizzled out, skin remaining untouched but revealed underneath. The glint of the gold eagle shoulder accents on his suit shined in the light of the raging fames that burst through every opening of the building, returning once more.  

The building erupted in what must have been a gas line explosion you thought. Homelander walked out through the flames with the last individual hurled over his shoulders. He sauntered over to your direction where you stood with a few EMTs who were supporting victims in a pop-up tent. Next to you, a bare stretcher. Homelander stopped next to you and dropped the smoking body onto the stretcher, eyes locking with yours as he did. He could hear your heartbeat quicken and your breathing go shallow. You were unsure if it was fear or excitement in this moment, he scared you in a way. You couldn't tell if he was disingenuous. Too many things were happening all at once, it was a state of high emotion and your head was spinning. You felt like you were helpless and had no control. He did though. He behaved as if this was nothing to him, as if he could do this one hundred times over. Of course he could, yet you could sense the arrogance behind his charismatic demeanor. 

You manage to speak in his presence. Something you had tried to do for several unending moments now under his gaze. “Thank you” you manage to mumble in a timid manner. You found it hard to maintain eye contact with him. He was so sure, so confident, and so… beautiful. You had never had the opportunity to be in the presence of a supe, let alone meet one. You had only seen them on TV, in the news, or in movies. Simmering in what you thought to be embarrassment or intimidation, you hastily make you way out of the tent, brushing by him as you passed. He watched over his shoulder as you disappeared behind him, feeling the warmth from you as you passed. He inhaled deeply as you walked away. You were so flustered but didn’t know why… You knew why, truly you did. It just didn’t make sense. You didn’t want it to make sense. You felt attraction to him, and you felt guilty for it for whatever reason. For many reasons. But mainly, you felt bad that in this moment, you felt lust and your attention drawn away from the people that needed your help the most. 

You made it behind the tent and had begun fidgeting with a worry stone you kept in your pocket. Rubbing it furiously when you hear the wet splat of steps behind you. You look down, the grounds wet; the fire fighters must be here, you think. A firm hand grabs your shoulder and spins you around. He looks at you matter of factly with a smirk. “You know, I wanted to tell you back there, thank you, for the work you do and for helping these fine people” he said, hand still on your shoulder. His eyes beaming into yours a deep sapphire. “I also wanted to let you know that there were some folks over there that could really use your help! That is, if you still want to help people.” He watched as shame crossed your face, then guilt and confusion. Easy, he thought. They’re so fucking easy! His smile, perfect white teeth gleaming at you. You recoil at his words, struck by how kind he sounded with the contrast of his delivery. You felt immediately inclined to help, like you didn’t have a choice but to prove it to yourself, and to him, for whatever reason. 

You nod your head in agreement, convinced by him you needed to. You feel a weight take over your entire body, pulling you down. Before you realize you were being flown away from the scene. The Homelander had picked you up and shot towards the sky. His arms wrapped tightly around your waist, holding you against his body. Terror filled you, but you were too high up to scream, the force of wind hindering your speech and breathing as it forcefully blew past your face. What did you agree to? You think. Where is he taking me? As quickly as the thoughts came to fruition, you were on your feet once more. He was looking down at you, still clinging tightly to your lower back. His face is indifferent and uncaring, almost empty. The suit he wore felt ridged where flames made contact. Soft in some places where the fabric was still intact and cool, where his skin peeked through. Your arms still grasped his biceps until you became aware you were doing so and let go. You wondered how he felt under the suit. He’s invincible, is his skin like that of a rock, or is he soft and pliable. He caught you gazing at the areas where his suit had melted away. He watched as you admired him. He knew the thoughts running through your head. He could see them cross your face. He was amused. That mixture of lust, exhilaration, and fear. He craved that from you, and you were abundantly insatiable. 

“Just through there.” He gestured kindly toward a door as he let go of your waist. You took a second to observe your surroundings, still fearful of what exactly you were doing and where the hell you were. For an educated girl, you felt like this was a really stupid decision. You were standing on a white tiled balcony about fifty, maybe sixty stories up. The city sprawled out before you. You could see city lights and in the distance a plume of smoke sure to be the fire you just came from. You remarked at how far away you were. Looking towards the door you saw white curtains billowing through the opening leading into a dark room. “This way” he gestures once more. His hand at the small of your back pushing you towards the entrance. 

You step inside, looking for someone, anyone. A large room with a couple connecting hall ways it looked like. Seems to be an apartment. A very nice one. You begin searching the room familiarizing yourself with it, it’s pretty dark except for the light of a modular fire place that hung from the ceiling. There’s a four-post bed with sheer white curtains, lace pillows, and a velvet duvet. Some accents, art, and statues, it looked very high class, very luxurious. Who did it belong to? You thought. It didn't matter though. 

Homelander had stepped behind you watching you roam the apartment you were now essentially trapped in. He stood behind you, shedding off pieces of his torched suit, exposing himself completely. He playfully tugged at his cock, already hard. Pulling it to his abdomen and letting it slap down onto his leg in a spring like motion. SLAP! He was hard watching you at the building fire, the intensity only grew. Especially when he held you close. He watched you search the room, calling out to no one. He snickered to himself. How much is she really willing to help hmm? He thought about you begging for him, praying he would let you come, but only after he tore you to shreds and broke you down mentally. He needed you to crave him, needed you to need him. Appreciate him, respect him, and most of all, obey him! Look at her, stupid enough to go along with this, she’s so sweet. It sickened him and only made his fervent lust grow. 

The realization finally began to hit, and a pit dropped in your stomach. There was no one here to help. In a way, you already knew but held onto some kind of hope, albeit for nothing. You began to spiral in your mind when a loud slap could be heard behind you. You spin around quickly on your heels, already on edge when your eyes are drawn to Homelander. The doors had closed behind him, and there he stood, completely nude in front of you. You stood with your mouth agape when he said “sorry, my suit was burned, practically tarnished, I had to take it off.” He shrugged his shoulders and chuckled with a sly smile. Hs eyes narrowed as he grabbed his cock and pulled it up once more to his abdomen and let it slap down onto his leg. SLAP! He was throbbing, watching your reaction to him so boldly lying to your face and exposing himself to you, jacking off in front of you with zero consequences. He knew he could do anything he wanted- get anything he wanted, and anyone would give it to him, even you. Whether you liked it or not. 

You recoiled in disgust and shock, eyes wide with fear. Although earlier you had thought about him like this maybe even slightly, not like this! “Where are they?!” you tried to say in a tone that was stern yet confident enough to not show fear. He could hear the fear in your voice, the pulse that raced through your veins that told everything in your mind and body to run away. “Who?” he replied teasingly. SLAP! “The people! The people you said needed help!” you shot back, starting to lose your cool. Heat rose to your cheeks and you felt hot, dizzy and angry. The light of the fireplace danced gently over his features illuminating him in an amber glow. Every muscle, every shape and curve on his body, shrouded in firelight.  

He stepped forward, walking briskly towards you. You stammered back, glancing behind you, looking for a place to run but hitting a wall. You tried to look for an exit, but the room was dimly lit, and it was too late. He was already right in front of you. You leaned against the wall and clasped your hands behind your back as he pressed his hand against the wall next to your head, the other hand holding his throbbing length… SLAP!  

“It’s me!” he said in a curt tone, almost annoyed you didn’t know. His eyes traveled, looking you up then down. “I need your help!” he stated. You turned your head sideways as he leaned in, whispering in your ear “My suit was burned, I could have been hurt saving those people, don’t you care?” A brief flicker of red lit up behind each eye, and you felt yourself shrink in his presence. You were scared, unsure of yourself. He’s invincible, you thought. Your head spun; you didn’t understand the weight of the situation. Except that he lied to you to get you here. He grabbed your chin with his free hand and turned your face to his, looking at you behind a furrowed brow. “Don’t you care about me?!” SLAP! His face scrunched, examining your reaction, waiting for a reply. “Y-Yes.. I care about you.” You chimed apprehensively and unconvincingly. He doesn't even know your name, you thought. He doesn't care. 

He let go of your chin. “Show me” he demanded behind a mischievous smile that curled at the ends of his lips. He placed his hands on your shoulders gripping the fabric of your shirt underneath and ripping it off, pulling it apart, you heard the buttons pop off and hit the floor with a ting as it ripped down the center. Your heart leapt into your throat as he devours you with his eyes, reeling in the sight of your ample breasts and the soft fleshy skin beneath your bra. He was all but salivating for you. He wanted to rip your bra off and nuzzle himself between your breasts, to inhale the skin, to feel their warmth. But he wanted you to prove yourself. Did you really care about him? Were you really a good girl? 

At this point, you realize what he brought you here for. But why you? He was a supe. He could literally kill you without a thought, and he would be protected. Your mind was hazy, but you couldn’t stop your own eyes from wandering. He was, in all his glory, vulnerable and bearing himself to you. Part of you thought it irresistable, intimate even. His body against yours felt like fire, and your senses began to tingle and go haywire. SLAP! You found yourself at the will of your hormones as your thoughts and body took over. He pushed his body closer, his hard length now pushing into your abdomen with force. A gasp fell from your lips as he looked into your eyes, a deep blue sea of burning blue ice. Entranced by his physique. Another whisper, more stern this time “I said, show me!”  

He stepped back, and you dropped to your knees in front of him. His hand on top of your head caressed the side of your face and slid to the underside of your chin, forcing you to look up at him, he gave a cursory look, eyebrows raised as if to say ‘I’m waiting’. Not wanting to disappoint him or make him angry, you quickly raise your hands up and rest them on his thighs. Feeling the softness of his skin. Leaning in, you open your mouth and take him in. His hands were immediately in your hair, pulling you in closer. Sticking out your tongue and forcing his length down the back of your throat. Tears begin to stream down your face. He put a finger to your face, catching a tear as it fell and pressing it to his tongue. His throbbing cock twitched in your throat. It was substantially thick and unreasonably big, the force stretching your throat was enough to make you cry.  

He threw his head back, letting out a low groan. Your mouth is so warm, so wet, and so tight. He imagined stretching your pussy, pounding you into oblivion until you either cried and begged for him to stop or climaxed and cried for more. You continued sucking, taking him in as deep as you could each time, hoping to please him and show him you were truly a good person. That you did care about him, you cared about everyone truly...but especially him. He created a feeling in you- you had not had previously, a desire for him. You used your hands to explore his body as you gulped him down, mesmerized by him. Caressing his abdomen, his buttocks and his balls. He had his hands twisted in your hair, rocking with the motion of your mouth. Every once in a while, taking your time to gently circle his tip with your tongue while sucking, ending in a kiss to his tip. Each time your lips pulled from him, a trail of precum would string from your lips.  

You looked up at him, licking your lips clean. “Mmm, that’s a good girl. Show me more.” He growled through his passion as he pulled you to your feet and directed you to get on the bed. He smacked your ass with force as you walked, it rang out with a snap, even against the fabric, it stung. You lurched forward falling into the bed face first. He quickly stood behind you spreading you knees apart on the bed with his legs as he approached. He began tearing your remaining clothes from you in shreds laughing. You felt defeated and ashamed, but you wanted more. Embarrassment filled your face with heat, a bright red hue colored your nose and cheeks.  

Your bra, snapped and torn. Your jeans, off, split in two, your underwear, lacy and white, torn from between your legs. You whimpered as they dug in while being ripped off of your body. Quick and painful. Grabbing your hips, he pulled you closer to the end of the bed where he stood. A cold breeze drifted across your back, buttocks, and exposed legs. He had you right where he wanted you. He liked it when you squirmed, when you whimpered. You thought perhaps you liked it as well. You found yourself helpless, at his mercy, and obeying his every command.  

He smacked you again and again. The sound of your flesh being abused rang out into the empty room, bellowing out and echoing back to you. Your skin again burning from the impact of his open hands leaving red hand prints sprinkled over your flesh. He joyfully continued. His face in a half smirk with eyes narrowed as he reveled in every cry that escaped your mouth. Your skin, now mottled with bruises and scratches. Smack! Again, he slaps your ass and drags his fingers down. Pinching you, squeezing hard, and watching you recoil, helpless to get away. You could feel the wetness spread between your legs. “Who’s my good girl, huh?” he said confidently in a gruff. “I aam” you cried out in a huff, face buried in the blankets. He placed both palms on your cheeks and placed his thumbs close to your crevice, pulling with his thumbs and exposing your most intimate parts to him. The brisk air on the wetness of your cunt sent a shiver up your back and goosebumps peppered your skin. Homelander took notice and began smoothing his hands over the surface of your legs and back as you lay before him, relishing in the work he’s created. An artwork of purple and red now enhanced by the prickling of your skin. 

What a sweet little cunt, he thought to himself. He then pushed against the surface of your opening with a single finger, taunting you, teasing you in a cruel way. You rocked your hips back toward him but couldn’t move, not unless he decided to let you. “what’s wrong bleeding heart? Not so sweet now, are you?” You whined as he toyed with you. Slowly drawing circles around your labia, clit, and opening, spreading your wetness around his fingers and your vulva. “Please, Homelander, please!” you begged him, a muffled plea distorted from the blankets below. You turn your head to look back at him, the only thing you could manage to move. You watched as he brought his face down, placing his tongue along your slit, flat, wide, and slowly licking up towards your entrance. You couldn’t take it anymore; he was teasing you and you were putty in his unforgiving hands. You melted into his touch. Pure bliss and euphoria filled your body as your mind released a load of dopamine to your receptors. Telling you, you wanted him, no- you needed him. Now! 

Slowly, he pushed two fingers in. The sheets below you, clutched within your hands as you lay on top of them. His hand held tightly, gripping your left cheek, holding you open as he explored, pushing in harder and deeper as he went. He could manage his strength sure, but he wanted so badly to fuck you into the bed, and you wanted to feel just a fraction of his strength, you thought you could handle it. In his mind he knew you couldn't. You, a delicate little thing. A rabbit he had caught. But just the same he held back, he needed time to play, to be entertained. 

The room filled with the aches and moans coming from your mouth as he pulled his fingers in and out of you, licking up and down your slit, and fucking you with his tongue. You wanted to move, but he had a hold of you. But you wanted to see his face, to watch him as he pleasured you so lovingly, a stark contrast to how you got here. They way his tongue traveled so freely between your folds and into your core, both tender and firm. There was no escape. You didn't want him to stop, your walls quivered around his fingers. 

He stopped, his fingers sopping, his face covered in your fluid. You feel his arm reach under you and pull you, turning you around. You lay before him on your elbows, knees bent. He pulls your forward, his face stern, as he gazed at your chest. He kneels in front of you and without words opens his mouth and laps at your breast flesh with his tongue. Sucking, licking, biting, lightly flicking your nipple with his tongue. A low hum building in the back of his throat. Your juices now smeared all over your chest as he paws and devours your breasts. You moan in ecstasy, a high-pitched squeal that reverberated in the room. You could feel his lips curl into a smile around your areola as he consumed all of you. Inhaling you in deeply.  

Your hand roamed his body, such a powerful being, and you had the pleasure of taming him. Your hands, rubbing along the muscles on his back, your fingers tracing the veins sticking out on his arms as he cradled your chest. In this moment, you weren't scared of him. You knew his power that he could kill you with his dick if he wanted to. But in this moment, he was vulnerable, weak even. He was the most human right now with you than he had felt in a while. Something about a woman with ample breasts opening up for him, opening everything up for him, filled him with a sense of true belonging. The elusive high he was truly trying to chase but always evaded him so eagerly. It was true compassion, isn't that why he chose you? You, specifically. Not just a beautiful woman, a beautiful woman with a pure heart.  

"You’re being such a good girl," he moaned into your chest. You move your hands from his shoulders to his face, pulling him up. He looks up at you. You observe an innocent, unassuming look in his eyes. He follows where you guide him. Your lips push against his in a heavy kiss. He pushes your shoulders down and pins you to the bed, enveloping you in his own passionate kiss. He swirls his tongue in your mouth and bites your bottom lip hard. You could taste the tinge of blood, like pennies in your mouth. Blood pooled at the corner or your mouth. With a flick of his thumb, he wiped it away and kissed you again. He found the taste of your blood mixed with your essence to be intoxicating, making him drunk with lust. 

 "Are you ready for your reward?" He said nefariously. That smile, no matter how menacing you thought it was, still made you crumble. "Mhmm" was all you could manage. He stood, quickly lifting you from the bed so you were face to face with him once more. He cradled your legs in his arms, holding you to him effortlessly. Slowly, you felt his arms drop you down, his hardness, now piercing your slick wet opening just barely. You groaned, once again trying to motion yourself closer to him, to feel him inside you, but he wouldn't let you move. It was his decision and his alone. With your arms wrapped around him, you began kissing his face and neck. Lightly with delicate pecks.  

Her lips were so soft and moist, he thought to himself as you indulged in him. Leaving traces of saliva trailed down his neck as you pulled your lips from his skin. Soft breaths from your mouth, creating a cool sensation on the surface. He growled deeply and with sudden force, dropped you down, sliding his whole length into you without hesitation or effort. He chuckles as you cry out. His swollen cock, so stiff, so large. It hurt sliding in. You were dripping with him just sticking the tip of his head at your surface, so he entered you easily. But you could feel the pressure inside stretching you from within, a painful yet satisfying fullness. His face was focused on yours as you cried in ecstasy and pain. The pain only amplifying the pleasure of him forcefully ramming you, lifting you up and down, sliding you on and off his cock. He could feel the pressure of your walls closing up and gripping him every time he slid hid length out of you. Then having to forcefully push back in again, opening you up. “So. Fucking. Tight.” He said with each grunt as he proceeded. 

Homelander’s thoughts had ceased at this point. He was enveloped in euphoria, acting on pure instinct but somehow still able to hold back. He concentrated on your face, watched as beads of sweat pooled on your forehead, then dropped down your face and onto your chest, glistening on your breasts. How your eyebrows curled up in the middle as your voice rang out into the room. Your screams only made him more crazed. He pounded you in a frenzy. Meeting each thrust with a grunt as he hit your cervix harder and faster with each push, causing you to cry out in moans of pure passion intermixed with pain. 

He dropped you back on the bed and stood at the end, parting your thighs once more with his legs. You thoughtlessly wrap them around him pulling him closer almost instant as if it was a natural reaction. You were too out of breath to speak; you could only mumble 3 words “I'll be good”. Homelander leans into the bed, a hand placed at either side of your face as he enters you.  

With your legs wrapped around him and his hands not holding you down, you were now free to meet his thrusts with your own, something he did not expect. He stopped for a moment and watched as you had become what he made you. Craving him, only wanting him, and willing to do anything for it. His body was rigid and still as you bucked and rocked underneath him, trying to meet his pelvis with your own thrusts when his right hand reaches over and closes over your throat He enters you. “Fuck!” you whisper in a harsh tone, unable to fully speak. He shoves his throbbing member into your cunt, squeezing your neck tighter with every slam into you, you fuck him back looking into his eyes as you moan his name.  

He sucks in through his teeth and lets out a long sigh, loosening his grip on your neck. “Now be a good girl and finish me off” he says in a deep whisper. You nod your head in agreement, wanting it just as bad as he did. He lightly pecks your lips before releasing his grip and lying next to you. You lift your legs to straddle him on the bed, knees pressed to his hips. His hands wander to your chest, squeezing and pulling the flesh. With your hands placed firmly on his abdomen, you allow yourself to sit down on him, giving yourself he time to adjust to him, which he had not done. He thought this to be tedious. Were you teasing him? He would not allow it. His hands reach out and grip your hips, pushing you onto him. There was nothing you could do; his strength was unimaginable. The power of his cock expanding you within was a testament to this. 

You didn't need him to push you down, you thought. You would happily ride him regardless of the pain. This was worth it, something you didn't know you needed and never thought you wanted. The earlier nights troubles were miles away in your mind, you could only think about him now, pleasing him. You felt a yearning for him brew deeply within your loins, and a longing in your heart. 

You propped yourself up, crouching above him on your feet, still stranding him. Your body had accepted him now, and you were wetter than ever, sopping around his manhood. Each bounce met with a loud exhausted moan from you, and a wet slap could be heard echoing off the walls of the room. Music to Homelanders ears, internalizing you moans. Mesmerizing to hear, indifferent to the pain it may have caused you.  

With your arms outstretched behind you gripping his thighs, you bounced on him, each time taking him in fully, rocking forward, as you did. The brush of his pubic hair against your clit as you grinded into him sent you into hysterics. You began slamming yourself on top of him, breathing heavily. He used his hands to cup your breasts and playfully tug at your nipples as you found your climax. He had never heard someone scream so loud while taking his cock. Your pace slowed as your orgasm took over, your body convulsing with every contraction of your cunt around him. “You’re not done yet!” he growled “How greedy” he chuckled maliciously. His words barely registered in your fucked out brain, still swimming from the intensity of your climax.  

“I said you're not done yet! Keep going!” He said in an insistent and unsympathetic manner, slapping your breasts, leaving a large red hand print that stung. He then grabbed your face, pinching your cheeks in his hand and pulling you down. “Fuck me.” You immediately slink back and do as you are told. His good girl. Taken aback by exhaustion and overstimulated, but not wanting to disappoint this work of perfection, not wanting to disappoint The Homelander, you find the strength to continue on. You use all of your strength incomparable to his, to please him, hoping it was good, that it was enough. You were eager to please him and wanted your reward for it.  

You planted yourself on him, over and over again, easing his tip in and out each time. His hands had reached to your backside, clutching the flesh in each fist, pulling you forward with each fall. Looking into his eyes, those piercing sapphire blue eyes sparkling with adoration. You watched as his lashes futtered and his face scrunched, his lips parting as he looked down watching himself slide in and out of you, hands latched onto you. He lets out a low breathy grunt, and his hands go limp on your cheeks, his eyes roll back. You reveled in the moment, soaking up the feeling of him spasming inside you while bursts of his seed shot deep within you. His cum dripping out and collecting around the base as you continued to slowly fuck him. Each burst causing his body to buck and convulse. You maintained your gaze on him, seeing him in his weakest moments. It was sweet. This man you had feared, turned from a monster into something beautiful to you. He was this anamorphic being you could now see clearly. He wanted to be loved, adored, cared for, appreciated, and feared. You wanted to be that person for him. You didn't want to let go or cease this moment. 

He helped you off of him, and you lay sprawled out on the bed. A mess of exhaustion. Pearls of his essence are still leaking out. He sat calmly next to you, enjoying the last bit of euphoria from this high as his orgasm subsided. A coy smile crossed his lips as he caressed the side of your face with his fingers. With no explanation and no words spoken, he left. Just like that. Out the balcony door and into the cloudy night. Still in a daze, you lay there admiring the bites, bruises, scratches, and hand prints that freckled your body, playfully tracing along all the marks he gifted you. Waiting eagerly for is return. 

[thedensworld]

Case 143 | K.Mg

Pairing: Detective!Mingyu x reader

Genre: action, romance, ex Au

Summary: Mingyu and Y/n are exes. One day, they have to work a case together and it makes the situation uncomfortable for both teams. Besides for the rookie, Hansol.

Breathless and with his heart pounding against his ribcage, Mingyu pushed himself to keep running. Every inhale felt like fire in his lungs, but the adrenaline pumping through his veins kept him going. The urgency of catching Kim Jiheon, the elusive drug dealer he had been tracking for weeks, was consuming him.

His legs threatened to give out beneath him, protesting each step he took, but the thought of letting Jiheon slip through his fingers was unbearable. Alone and racing against time, Mingyu cursed under his breath as he sprinted towards the harbor. His team, blissfully unaware of the unfolding situation, was probably enjoying their dinner, oblivious to his urgent call for backup.

Frantically, he dialed the rookie of his team, Hansol, hoping beyond hope that his message had been received. Mingyu needed everyone at the harbor, and he needed them there now. The distance seemed endless, each stride feeling like an eternity as he fought against exhaustion and desperation.

As Mingyu finally reached the harbor, his eyes scanned the area, searching for any sign of his team. But there was nothing. Doubt crept into his mind. Had Hansol even relayed his message? Was he truly alone in this race against time?

Despite the doubt gnawing at him, Mingyu clenched his jaw, refusing to give up. With determination burning in his eyes, he squared his shoulders and prepared to face whatever lay ahead. Kim Jiheon would not escape him, not this time.

Fortunately for Mingyu, his years of dedicated workouts and cardio had honed his body into a well-oiled machine, allowing him to chase down Kim Jiheon with impressive speed and agility. Even as fatigue threatened to overwhelm him, he pushed himself harder, driven by sheer determination to apprehend his elusive target.

It was a testament to Mingyu's resourcefulness that he had managed to uncover Jiheon's plans to ship out tonight. Yet, despite his strategic prowess, a pang of frustration surged through him as he realized his own clumsiness had led to him misplacing his gun at the worst possible moment. Shooting Jiheon's leg would have simplified matters, but fate seemed to have other plans.

The sharp crack of a gunshot shattered the night air, sending Mingyu's heart racing as Jiheon crumpled to the ground, his leg now wounded and useless. Relief flooded through Mingyu as he spotted the familiar figure holding the pistol, their timely intervention saving the day.

With a steadying breath, Mingyu hurried to Jiheon's side, his movements deliberate as he secured the handcuffs around the criminal's wrists. A mixture of triumph and exhaustion washed over him as he delivered a sharp slap near Jiheon's gunshot wound, a small act of retribution for the chase that had left him soaked with sweat.

As a car and a bike approached, Mingyu watched with a mixture of relief and anticipation as the people inside sprang into action, swiftly attending to the fallen Jiheon. "Nice shot, captain!" one of them exclaimed, praising the biker who had delivered the decisive blow. Mingyu's eyes met hers as she removed her helmet, her intense gaze locking onto him.

There was a palpable tension in the air as she approached Mingyu, her scowl evident even from a distance. Despite the exchange of the gun between them, her anger seemed to simmer just beneath the surface, casting a shadow over the otherwise triumphant moment.

Effortlessly catching the gun she tossed to him, Mingyu couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered between them. Even as he rose to his feet, his body still thrumming with adrenaline, her continued displeasure weighed heavily on him.

As their eyes met once more, Mingyu couldn't help but protest, "Don't look at me like that." He rose from his brief respite, his voice tinged with defiance.

She rolled her eyes in response, her frustration evident. "Like what? Like looking at an idiot? Yeah! I am looking at an idiot who dropped his gun while running. Why are you even here? It's my case!"

Mingyu coughed, feeling the weight of her words like a punch to the gut. "It's related to my department, so it's natural for me to investigate it as well."

She shook her head, her tone firm. "It's one hundred percent on the Narcotic Department. Violence and Crime have zero relevance to this case. Also, your team doesn't have an investigation permission letter. So whatever you're doing right now, it's not under the office regulations," she explained, her words cutting through the tension like a knife.

"Good you're not dead," she muttered under her breath before swiftly donning her helmet.

Mingyu's heart sank at her dismissive words, but he refused to let his pride get the better of him. "Can I join you?" he asked, stepping forward.

She turned to face him, her expression unreadable as she removed her helmet. "Where's your car? How could you even get here in the first place?" she questioned, her voice tinged with disbelief.

Mingyu hesitated for a moment, feeling a pang of embarrassment at his lack of preparedness. But as he met her gaze, determination flickered in his eyes. "I found a way," he muttered, his resolve unwavering despite the obstacles in his path.

Mingyu didn't waste time with words. Instead, he reached for the helmet in her hand and the key, determination shining in his eyes. "Let's go," he said, motioning for her to join him on the back seat.

"Riding without a helmet is illegal, Kim Mingyu. We're police officers," she reminded him firmly.

A smirk played at the corners of Mingyu's lips as he tilted his head, meeting her gaze with a sense of camaraderie. "Well said, Ji Y/n. We're police officers."

*

Mingyu stood at the front of his team, his expression stern as he addressed each member in turn. With their heads bowed and hands folded behind their backs, they listened intently to his lecture, knowing they had failed their leader.

For seven minutes, Mingyu recounted the events of that fateful night, emphasizing the gravity of the situation had he been left to face danger alone. His voice carried a mixture of disappointment and frustration, each word punctuated by the weight of missed opportunities and the consequences of their negligence.

Hansol, the rookie whose distraction had led to Mingyu's solitary struggle, felt the weight of guilt settle heavy in his chest. The memory of the grandmother he had helped with directions now felt like a betrayal, a selfish act that had left his team leader vulnerable and alone in the line of duty.

As Mingyu concluded his lecture, his gaze swept over his team, the disappointment in his eyes unmistakable. Yet, beneath the reprimand, there was a glimmer of determination—a resolve to ensure that such a lapse in communication would never happen again.

Mingyu's commanding presence filled the room as he addressed his team, his eyes sweeping over each member with a sense of authority. "I want you to summarize an essay about how important teamwork is in our field and the role of the leader," he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Without hesitation, Lee Seokmin, Seo Myungho, Boo Seungkwan, Lee Chan, and Choi Hansol snapped to attention, offering a crisp salute as a promise to fulfill their leader's directive.

As Mingyu's gaze lingered on Hansol, a sense of disappointment flickered in his eyes. "And Hansol," he added, his voice firm. "Face me after doing 20 laps of a run."

With a nod of acknowledgment, Mingyu dismissed his team, the air thick with the unspoken promise of accountability and unity in the face of adversity. They had learned a valuable lesson, one that would shape their future actions and reinforce the bonds of trust and solidarity among them. Mingyu turned on his heel and made his exit, leaving the room buzzing with a newfound sense of purpose and determination. Each member of the team knew that they had a responsibility to uphold, not only to their leader but to each other as well.

A shout erupted from Seungkwan, his voice echoing through the room, "I'm relieved that I'm not the rookie anymore, but I feel bad for Hansol." His frustration was palpable as he reached for the book sitting untouched on the bookcase for what seemed like ages—a self-improvement book on leadership and teamwork bought by their team leader, Kim Mingyu.

Lee Chan flopped onto the couch, exhaustion evident in every line of his body. He leaned back, his eyelids heavy with fatigue. "Then do his assignment instead," he mumbled, the remnants of their beef dinner lulling him into a sleepy stupor.

Seungkwan's fingers traced the embossed title of the book, his mind racing with conflicting emotions. Relief mingled with guilt as he thought of Hansol, burdened with the weight of being the rookie. Mingyu's gesture was well-intentioned, but it only served to highlight the disparities within their team. As he flipped through the pages, Seungkwan couldn't shake the feeling of unease gnawing at him.

Myungho gently tapped Hansol's shoulder, offering reassurance in his touch. "It's not totally your fault, Hansol. That case isn't officially ours, so even if we're losing it, it wouldn't be our responsibility," he explained calmly to the younger member.

Hansol's brow furrowed in surprise, his eyes betraying his confusion. "But didn't we work hard on that case? Is it really okay to just let it go like that?" he questioned, his voice tinged with a mixture of disbelief and concern.

Myungho nodded understandingly, his expression empathetic. "We assumed there might be a gang involved in Park Jiheon's case. But his capture definitely isn't in our hands," he clarified, his tone gentle yet firm as he tried to alleviate Hansol's worries.

Hansol sighed, a weight seeming to lift from his shoulders as he processed Myungho's words.

Seokmin chimed in, his voice carrying a sense of solidarity as he echoed Myungho's sentiments. "Don't worry about Mingyu, he just wasn't in the mood," he reassured, his tone soothing as he tried to ease any lingering concerns.

Chan's hands met in a soft clap of realization, his eyes widening with understanding. "Right? He's never scolded us that much before. I was really worried when he called. But then, when I saw him arriving on bike earlier..." Chan trailed off, a knowing smile playing at the corners of his lips. "I knew," he concluded, his voice filled with certainty.

Seungkwan chuckled, his laughter ringing out in the room. "I saw them too. Kim Mingyu, our team leader..." he began, a hint of amusement evident in his tone as he recalled the sight of Mingyu's unexpected mode of transportation.

Sensing that the conversation was veering off track, Myungho interjected, his voice carrying a sense of urgency. "Let's finish our assignment before midnight," he urged, directing everyone's attention back to the task at hand. With a determined stride, he made his way to his desk, ready to dive into the work.

Seokmin reached out to Hansol, his offer of assistance laced with genuine concern. "Hansol," he called out, his tone gentle yet firm. "You can start your run. I'll take care of your assignment." The weight lifted from Hansol's shoulders as he breathed a sigh of relief, gratitude evident in his expression. He offered a quick word of thanks to Seokmin before hurrying out into the backyard, his mind already racing ahead to the looming encounter with their team leader.

As Hansol disappeared from view, the air seemed to crackle with anticipation. Each member of the team understood the importance of their roles, the weight of their responsibilities hanging heavy in the air. With determination etched on their faces, they set to work, united in their mission to meet the deadline and prove their worth as a team.

*

"I've read your report on the potential Cubic involvement in Park Jiheon's case, and I truly appreciate your astuteness in uncovering this," Chief Park acknowledged, his tone conveying a mix of admiration and seriousness. "However, I can't simply assign this case to your department without the Narcotics Department's involvement, especially considering it's already under their investigation," he explained, his words carrying a weight of deliberation and careful consideration.

As Chief Park's gaze shifted to Choi Seungcheol, the Head of the Violence and Crime Department, the room fell silent, all eyes turning to await his response. Superintendent Choi's expression remained composed, his mind already racing through the implications of Chief Park's words. With a thoughtful nod, he prepared to offer his insight, knowing that the decision ahead would shape the course of their investigation and the fate of their team.

Seungcheol's gaze shifted to Mingyu, his words carrying a sense of reassurance. "There are cases that require the expertise of special teams from different departments, sir. It's quite common in our line of work. If involving our team will expedite the process, then we should proceed," he stated confidently, his tone firm yet respectful as he laid out their rationale.

Chief Park nodded thoughtfully, acknowledging Seungcheol's explanation. "Alright, I'll speak with Superintendent Yoon about this matter and keep you both informed," he confirmed, his expression reflecting a blend of contemplation and gratitude. "Thank you so much for your input," he added, appreciating the insight offered by his dedicated team members. As the conversation drew to a close, the room buzzed with a sense of anticipation, each member silently hoping for a favorable outcome.

Mingyu and Seungcheol strode out of the Chief's office in unison, the weight of the conversation lingering heavily between them. Frustration etched lines on Mingyu's usually cheerful face, his hand harshly rubbing at his forehead in a futile attempt to erase the tension. Seungcheol, observant as ever, couldn't ignore the sudden shift in his junior's demeanor.

"What's wrong?" Seungcheol asked, his own irritation growing as he tried to decipher what had dimmed the usually bright spirit of his junior.

Mingyu shrugged, attempting to downplay the turmoil brewing within him. "It's alright," he muttered, though the strain in his voice betrayed his attempt at composure.

Seungcheol scoffed, unable to contain his sarcasm. "Yeah, everyone can tell you're alright," he quipped, hoping to coax out the truth behind Mingyu's facade.

The jest halted Mingyu in his tracks, his gaze snapping towards Seungcheol with a mixture of surprise and irritation. "Really?" Mingyu's brow furrowed, his frustration momentarily eclipsed by confusion before realization dawned upon him. "That's not funny, sunbae," he retorted, the tension between them palpable as they stood locked in a silent battle of emotions.

Seungcheol motioned for Mingyu to halt in front of a cooler, offering him a soft drink. Mingyu nodded gratefully, sinking onto the nearby bench as Seungcheol handed him a can of coke.

"Are you going to be alright working with Y/n?" Seungcheol asked directly, his concern palpable in the air. Mingyu shot him a sidelong glance, his mood evident in the gesture.

"What? I'm just worried, okay? You both are my juniors and used to be under my team." Seungcheol explained.

"I know," Mingyu mumbled, his head dropping as he stared at his shoes. He sighed heavily. "It's been messing with my head. I can't seem to stop thinking about her."

Mingyu looked up at Seungcheol, his expression a mix of frustration and self-doubt. "Even last night, I lashed out at my team for not capturing Park Jiheon. We worked tirelessly on the case, even though it wasn't our responsibility. It was... selfish."

"I feel like such an idiot, sunbae," Mingyu confessed.

Seungcheol paused, considering his words carefully before responding. "Professionally? Yes, you made mistakes. But we can't ignore matters of the heart, Mingyu. We're police officers, yes, but we're also human. We feel things deeply. Sometimes, our emotions cloud our judgment."

Mingyu chuckled weakly. "It's surreal to hear reassurance from you, Seungcheol sunbae. I remember when you used to chew me out back in my rookie days."

Seungcheol scoffed, folding his arms. "Rookies are always in for a rough ride," he said with a wry smile, pointing a finger skyward.

"If working with Y/n is going to worsen things for you, then maybe you should assign the case to another member. I hear Myungho is a great profiler," Seungcheol suggested.

Mingyu nodded slowly. "I'll think about it."

As they stood in the quiet of the break room, the weight of Mingyu's dilemma hung heavy in the air, each man lost in his own thoughts.

*

"From today, the two of your teams will work together on the case given. Don't get distracted; Cubic might be more than we've known." The chief's words echoed in the room as the teams filed out.

Seungkwan and Chan exchanged subtle signals, while Seokmin and Myungho struggled to maintain their composure. Hansol, the only one oblivious to the tension, glanced at his leader, silently asking, "What's going on, sunbae?"

"Let's arrange a meeting tonight. My team will share everything we've found related to Cubic," you announced, stopping abruptly to address Mingyu.

Mingyu nodded and motioned for his team to proceed ahead. "Let's have a talk," he suggested, prompting you to instruct your team to head out first.

"We're talking," you said firmly once everyone had left. Mingyu rolled his eyes at your sudden display of petulance.

With a sigh, Mingyu began, "Let's not make everyone uncomfortable."

Your frown deepened. "I haven't done anything."

Mingyu hesitated, biting his lip before continuing, "I mean—"

"The way you speak makes everyone nervous," he clarified.

You shrugged nonchalantly. "That's just how I communicate. I thought you knew that."

"However," you added, your tone becoming more serious, "I'm sorry, but you can't tell me what to do unless it's about the case. You're not my boyfriend."

With that, you turned on your heel and walked away, leaving Kim Mingyu standing there, frustration evident on his face as he watched you go.

*

Mingyu, you, and Wonwoo entered the academy at the same time and were assigned to the same team upon graduation ten years ago. Working under intense pressure with Seungcheol as the team leader, the three of you quickly became inseparable. Mingyu and Wonwoo were always there to help you maintain your composure, making sure you didn't impulsively shoot anyone you caught, given your renowned marksmanship.

Mingyu, the athletic and brain one, carried the team with his impressive deductive skills, which had caught Seungcheol's eye during your rookie days. He had an uncanny ability to piece together the most obscure clues, turning chaos into coherent narratives that led to countless breakthroughs in your cases. His strategic thinking and physical prowess made him the backbone of the team.

Wonwoo, on the other hand, was a jack-of-all-trades and thrived on challenges. He was always willing to take the biggest risks, whether it was infiltrating dangerous territories or going undercover in high-stakes operations. His versatility and daring nature complemented Mingyu's methodical approach, creating a dynamic and effective duo.

For Seungcheol, having the three of you on the same team was a stroke of fortune. Your combined skills and unwavering loyalty to each other made the team formidable. Seungcheol knew he could rely on you to handle the toughest cases, confident that you would always have each other's backs, no matter the danger.

Wonwoo vividly remembered the day Mingyu panickedly ran down the hospital aisle after hearing you were injured during a mission to intercept a gang transaction. The two of them stood helplessly by your hospital bed, staring at your weak form with a broken leg and arm.

From that day forward, Mingyu and Wonwoo promised never to leave your side. You made the same promise to them.

"You two are dating?" Wonwoo asked, watching as you and Mingyu nodded excitedly like puppies.

"Finally." A sigh of relief escaped from Wonwoo's mouth.

Surprised by his reaction, you asked, "You knew?"

Wonwoo scoffed, "You were the only one who didn't realize how smitten Mingyu has been with you all these years."

You turned to Mingyu, who was blushing furiously at Wonwoo's words, his cheeks tinged a deep shade of red.

"Anyway, let's get some meat tonight. I'll pay," Mingyu declared, trying to shift the focus away from his embarrassment.

Just then, another figure stirred, startling the three of you. Seungcheol, who had been dozing at his desk, rubbed his eyes and stretched.

"Am I invited?" he asked, his voice slightly groggy.

The mood lightened as you all began discussing the evening's plans, the camaraderie and affection between you all evident. Despite the pressures and dangers of your work, moments like this reminded you why you were a team—why you were a family.

*

It's been a few weeks since you and Mingyu started working together on the case. The atmosphere was not as uncomfortable as it used to be, but everyone could still sense the underlying tension between the two leaders. Although you and Mingyu didn't feel that way, the rest of the team couldn't help but walk on thin ice around you.

The investigation had already uncovered Cubic's involvement in the narcotic industry and the powerful figures behind them. Mingyu and you had serious discussions from time to time, meticulously arranging every detail of the operation. The years of the close relationship you once had before it broke three years ago were now a distant memory, masked by the professionalism you both maintained.

Despite the professionalism, there were moments when the past seemed to seep through the cracks. A shared glance, an unspoken understanding—remnants of what once was. These moments, though fleeting, didn't go unnoticed by the team.

During one of the sessions, as you pored over maps and files, you couldn't help but recall the days when teamwork came effortlessly between you and Mingyu. Back then, your synergy was unmatched, a force that propelled your team to solve the most challenging cases.

Now, as you both focused on taking down Cubic, the stakes were higher than ever. The complexity of the case demanded absolute focus and collaboration. You admired Mingyu's analytical skills, his ability to connect dots that seemed unrelated, and his unwavering dedication to the mission. It reminded you of why you had once fallen for him.

Mingyu, on the other hand, found himself occasionally lost in thought, reminiscing about the times when your relationship wasn't just professional. He admired your courage and precision, your knack for getting to the heart of a matter with unerring accuracy. But he also knew that the past was a closed chapter, and what mattered now was the mission at hand.

As the team continued to unravel the tangled web of Cubic's operations, you and Mingyu found a new rhythm in your collaboration. The hints of rivalry that others perceived were, in truth, a testament to the high standards you both held each other to.

"Sunbae!" Seungkwan burst into the meeting room, his urgency drawing the attention of both you and Mingyu.

"Hansol and Jihoon were captured by Cubic," he announced, breathless.

"What?" you and Mingyu exclaimed simultaneously, immediately moving towards Seungkwan, who held out his phone, showing a picture of Hansol and Jihoon tied up, their faces bruised and bloodied.

"No..." you whispered, covering your mouth in shock.

Mingyu glanced at you, his expression a mix of frustration and concern, before turning to Seungkwan. "Gather everyone immediately," he instructed.

Seungkwan nodded and hurried out of the room.

"I'll inform the superintendents and the chief about this," Mingyu said, already reaching for his phone.

"We need to find them immediately," you told Mingyu, your voice trembling with urgency.

"We will save them. Please, calm down," he reassured you, his hands gripping your shoulders tightly.

As everyone gathered in the meeting room under Seungcheol's direction, they quickly got to work, tracking through CCTV footage, emails, phone numbers, and transmissions to pinpoint Hansol and Jihoon's location.

"How about the ring?" you asked Jun, one of your team members.

"What ring?" Mingyu inquired.

You showed him your ring. "We programmed GPS into our team rings."

Jun shook his head. "It was left in a small alley in Itaewon. Seokmin and Myungho have already checked it out."

You sighed, your foot tapping anxiously on the floor.

"Itaewon?" Mingyu asked, frowning. He recalled Hansol mentioning he was heading to Sadang, Dongjak. "Where was he last before he was captured?" Mingyu asked Jun.

"Dongjak Bridge," Jun replied.

Mingyu rushed to his desk, rifling through papers. "If they were captured at Dongjak Bridge and the GPS was discarded in Itaewon, it means they made a U-turn," he deduced. "Their nearest area from Itaewon would be Gwangjang."

You bit your lip at Mingyu's deduction and immediately instructed Jun to track the CCTV footage around Myeongdong.

Seungcheol received a call from the district station and made eye contact with the two of you. "Alright, we'll be there," he said, hanging up.

"The car that captured them was seen around Gwangjang Market. Jun, find any abandoned buildings there. Mingyu, Y/N, you two drive to Myeongdong,"

*

Mingyu stood motionless in front of the ICU, his eyes fixed on the doors, while you were crying on the floor after the incident during the mission. A bomb had exploded in the hotel while your team was attempting to catch a serial killer.

You had been trapped in the perpetrator's trap, tied up in a room with a time bomb ticking down. Wonwoo had been trying to save you, but he knew he had to get the bomb away from other people.

"No, don't," you pleaded as Wonwoo prepared to pull the strap of the time bomb.

"You need to get everyone out of this building. I'll take the bomb to a higher floor," Wonwoo instructed, his voice steady despite the gravity of the situation.

You shook your head, desperation in your eyes. "Let's get down together." You grabbed his arm, but he stood firm.

"Save the people and do what I said. We have five minutes," he urged.

You looked at him, tears streaming down your face, before gradually stepping away. You watched as Wonwoo sprinted towards the emergency stairs, determination etched on his face. You then turned and began evacuating everyone, your heart heavy with fear and hope.

"I'm sorry," Mingyu mumbled as you both waited anxiously for news about Wonwoo's condition. Reports had indicated that he was badly injured and would require several surgeries.

You stood up, frustration and sorrow evident on your face. "You left us!"

Mingyu took a deep breath, his shoulders slumping with regret. "I'm very sorry."

In a surge of emotion, you grabbed his collar and shouted, "You saw me in trouble, but you ran off to catch that bastard! You lost sight of your priorities!"

Mingyu nodded, his face reflecting the realization that he had made a grave mistake by abandoning his injured teammates.

"Hey... Stop it," Seungcheol said, his voice heavy with exhaustion and stress. He stepped in and gently pulled you away from Mingyu.

Just then, the doctor emerged from the ICU, calling out Wonwoo's name. The news he delivered was something no one had been prepared for.

You fell to your knees, overwhelmed by the weight of the doctor’s words. Mingyu leaned against the nearest wall, his face hidden in his hands, unable to escape the guilt that consumed him.

Seungcheol, the team leader who had just lost a member, stood nearby, grappling with his own overwhelming sense of failure. He could not shake the feeling that he should have done more, that he had let his team down in their darkest hour. The weight of the day’s events hung heavily over everyone, casting a long and painful shadow on the team.

*

You and Mingyu immediately ran to the abandoned building where Hansol and Jihoon were being held captive. The rest of the team followed closely, their weapons at the ready. As you neared the building, Mingyu's phone rang. It was a call from Seungcheol. Mingyu signaled for everyone to stop moving when he heard Seungcheol's urgent voice, "Stop everyone. He wants to meet Y/N."

Mingyu's eyes locked onto yours as Seungcheol continued, "Yoo Yongchul wants to meet Y/N only."

Mingyu relayed the message, and you muttered a curse under your breath, "He hated it when I took down his men last week." The pieces clicked into place—this was why Hansol and Jihoon had been captured.

"Tell him that Y/N will be with me," Mingyu instructed Seungcheol before ending the call. He quickly briefed Myungho and Jisoo to lead the team while you and he headed upstairs.

"Be careful," Myungho whispered as he took his position, his eyes filled with concern.

With a nod, you and Mingyu moved cautiously up the stairs, the old wooden steps creaking under your weight. The air was thick with tension, every shadow a potential threat. Your mind raced, strategizing how to handle Yoo Yongchul and secure the safe release of your teammates.

Reaching the designated floor, you saw a dimly lit room at the end of the hallway. Mingyu placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "We’ve got this. Just stay focused."

You nodded, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. As you entered the room, the dim light revealed Yoo Yongchul standing in the center, a sinister smile on his face. Hansol and Jihoon were tied up in the corner, their faces bruised and eyes filled with a mixture of relief and fear upon seeing you.

"Here we are. Did you bring my men?" Yoo Yongchul, the leader of Cubic, greeted you with a smile that stood in stark contrast to his grim-faced men, who held weapons aimed at Hansol and Jihoon.

"You let them go, and we'll talk," you replied, your calm tone surprising even Mingyu.

Mingyu's eyes widened as you pulled out your gun, unloaded it, and let the bullets clatter to the floor. You then tossed the gun aside, followed by your knife and handcuffs.

"What are you doing?" Mingyu whispered, alarmed.

Yoo Yongchul motioned for his men to release Hansol and Jihoon. Mingyu immediately moved to their side as they were pushed towards you.

"So, what do you want?" you asked.

"Let's pretend we never sold narcotics," Yoo Yongchul said smoothly. "Detective Kim knows what we've done, right? We just own a few nightclubs and do some debt collecting."

You smiled, a dangerous edge to your expression. "Nightclubs aren't enough, so you got your hands dirty with 'candy' from Russia? How does the money from selling narcotics feel?" Your taunt hit its mark, and Yoo Yongchul's smile vanished. He grabbed a gun from one of his men and aimed it at you.

Mingyu, Hansol, and Jihoon, who got their gun from Mingyu, quickly raised their guns, ready to protect you.

"Thank you for this invitation, Yoo Yongchul," you said, your voice steady.

Sensing your intent to capture him, Yoo Yongchul fired at you and immediately ran. Hansol and Jihoon sprinted after him, but Mingyu stopped when he noticed you were bleeding.

"You didn't wear a vest?" Mingyu exclaimed, shock evident in his voice. He quickly directed everyone to move through his radio, but you motioned for him to join the others in pursuing Yoo Yongchul.

"No, I'm not leaving you here bleeding," he insisted, gently lifting you into his arms and heading downstairs.

"I'm heavy," you whispered weakly, your hand pressed against the wound on your stomach to stem the bleeding.

"Shut up, it's not like I’ve never lifted you before," Mingyu retorted, his tone a mix of frustration and concern.

You winced in pain, the reality of being shot for the first time hitting you hard. Your recklessness in not wearing a bulletproof vest during the mission now seemed like a grave mistake.

"Please, stay awake," Mingyu urged as he descended the stairs, his voice trembling slightly. He could feel your strength waning with each passing moment.

As he carried you, Mingyu's mind raced with thoughts of your shared history and the countless times you had saved each other. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing you now. "Just a bit further," he whispered, more to himself than to you, as he pushed through the pain and fear gripping his heart.

With the help of the district station, Yoo Yongchul and his men were successfully captured. Seungcheol saw Mingyu holding you and immediately ran to assist. Quickly getting you to the paramedics, Mingyu watched anxiously as they tended to your wound.

"She didn't wear a vest?" Jihoon, who was also in the same ambulance on the way to the hospital, was shocked to find out his leader was injured.

Hansol, sitting beside Jihoon, looked on in concern as you slowly closed your eyes. "Ma'am, please stay awake. We're on our way to the hospital," the paramedic urged.

Mingyu's hand immediately found yours and squeezed it tightly. "Hey... stay awake... please," he begged, his voice filled with desperation.

"It's hurting," you whispered, your voice barely audible. Mingyu nodded, his face a mask of concern and guilt.

"Mingyu, thank you," you whispered, your voice growing weaker. "Thank you..."

Mingyu shook his head, hating the way you kept thanking him in this dire situation. "Stop it!" he said, his voice breaking.

"I'm so tired," you mumbled, your eyes fluttering. "I miss Wonwoo."

"Sunbae!" Jihoon exclaimed, his voice filled with disapproval and concern, speaking up on behalf of a speechless Mingyu.

Mingyu's heart clenched at your words, the weight of the situation pressing down on him. "Stay with me," he pleaded, his voice cracking. "We can't lose you too."

The ambulance sped through the city streets, sirens blaring. The paramedics worked tirelessly to stabilize you, their faces grim with determination. As the hospital came into view, Mingyu's grip on your hand tightened, a silent promise that he would never let you down again.

The ambulance doors flew open, and the medical team rushed you inside. Mingyu followed closely, his eyes never leaving you. "She's going to be okay," he told himself, the words a mantra he desperately needed to believe. "She has to be."

*

Hansol, Jihoon, Seungkwan, and Myungho sat waiting anxiously in front of the surgery room. Their eyes kept darting to Mingyu, who stood steadfastly by the door, not moving an inch since you were taken in an hour ago.

"I don't know what exactly happened, but I watched him in the ambulance," Hansol said, looking over at Jihoon. "He looked so worried. Like he was afraid something terrible would happen."

"I know... everyone can see he still loves her," Seungkwan sighed.

Hansol frowned. "What do you mean? They were together?"

Jihoon glanced at him. "You didn't know?"

"He's new," Seungkwan informed Jihoon.

"They were together until three years ago, before they were promoted to team leaders. It was Jihoon hyung, Myungho hyung, Mingyu sunbae, y/n sunbae, and I was the maknae. Seungcheol sunbae was the team leader," Seungkwan explained.

"We lost a member during a mission. It was their best friend," Jihoon added somberly. "I don't know all the details, but the rumors about their breakup started after that. However, I always knew that Mingyu sunbae never truly left Y/n sunbae's side."

The group fell silent, the weight of the past and present hanging heavily in the air. The surgical room doors remained closed, and every passing minute felt like an eternity. Mingyu's unwavering presence by the door was a testament to his feelings, a silent promise that he wouldn't lose you, no matter what it took.

"What is wrong with you, actually?" Those were the first words out of your mouth after days of not speaking to him. It was almost midnight when he drove you home after Wonwoo's funeral. Unable to bear the thought of leaving you alone, he stayed.

"What is wrong with you?" you asked again, this time in a whisper.

He knew exactly what you were referring to, but the guilt weighed heavily on him. He couldn't stop hating himself every time he remembered that he was the cause of losing Wonwoo and almost losing you as well.

"You've always been the one to prioritize other. How could you go when you saw me tied up in that room?" you continued, your voice cracking with emotion.

Mingyu held his head down, unable to meet your eyes. Deep down, he knew the reason behind his actions, and it made him hate himself even more. He remembered the frantic moments of trying to find, where the culprit had taken you, with Wonwoo while the rest of the team focused on evacuating the area.

"Did something happen to you?" Your question pierced through his thoughts, bringing tears to his eyes. You were too good for him, he thought. How could an angel like you exist for someone as flawed as him? He was betraying you, for God's sake!

"There are only two spots, Detective Kim," he remembered Chief Hong's insinuation. It was promotion time. Mingyu, Wonwoo, and you had dedicated your lives fully to the work. However, there were only two promotion spots available, and they were likely for him and Wonwoo.

Competently, Wonwoo and he were better detectives. But everyone knew you were fit for a leadership spot. Honestly, none of you didn't deserve the place.

"Detective Jeon definitely has a spot. Honestly, I have high hopes for you, Detective Kim. However, the superintendents have been discussing Detective Ji's performance in leading several cases," Chief Hong had said.

Mingyu’s mind replayed the conversation. The promotion meant everything to him. It wasn’t just about recognition; it was about proving his worth, his dedication. But that ambition had clouded his judgment, leading to choices that he now regretted deeply.

You sighed at his silence, frustration boiling over. "You left me in danger and now you're keeping things from me," you said, your voice trembling with hurt. "I guess seven years wasn't enough for you? For us?"

Mingyu shook his head. "That's not what I meant."

"Then tell me! We lost Wonwoo, for god's sake! How could you stay silent like this, Kim Mingyu?"

Mingyu was startled; it was the first time he'd heard you raise your voice at him. He looked at you, eyes widened in shock. Why was it always about Wonwoo? When was it going to be about him? When would he be prioritized?

"You shouldn't bring up Wonwoo. I'm having a hard time too," Mingyu said, his voice cracking. He stood from the couch, grabbing his black suit from the funeral.

"It's always about him, right?" Mingyu mumbled, his words heavy with bitterness and pain, before he walked out, leaving you alone in the silence of the night.

The echo of his departure hung in the air, leaving you with a hollow ache that felt impossible to fill. The chasm between you and Mingyu seemed wider than ever, and the loss of Wonwoo weighed down on both of you like an unspoken curse.

*

Mingyu stood somberly at the funeral with his team, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. In this industry, people came and went, and the harsh reality of that truth weighed heavily on his heart. He tapped one of your member, Jisoo's shoulder, silently urging him to stay strong amidst the recent turmoil.

After the funeral concluded, Mingyu found himself heading to your apartment. The familiar path brought a wave of nostalgia. He remembered all the times he had crashed at your place, finding solace and comfort within its walls. Your apartment had always felt more like home to him than his own, mainly because it had you in it.

As he stood outside your door, memories of laughter, shared meals, and late-night conversations flooded his mind. The warmth of your presence, the way you made everything better just by being there—it all came rushing back. With a deep breath, Mingyu stepped inside, hoping to find some semblance of the connection you once shared, even amidst the pain and unresolved issues that now lingered between you.

"Wake up," Mingyu said softly, shaking your shoulder. "I brought you lunch. It's past time for your medicine."

You groaned and stretched like a cat, wincing as the still-healing wound reminded you of its presence. "How's Jisoo?" you asked, feeling guilty for not being able to attend his father's funeral, Regional Chief Hong.

Mingyu prepared the food on your nightstand and handed it to you. "Even though we knew he hated his father, he's still his father. Jisoo's holding up as best as he can."

You sighed, taking the plate from him. "I wish I could've been there for him."

Mingyu sat beside you, watching you carefully. "He understands. We all do. Focus on getting better. That's what matters right now."

You nodded, grateful for his understanding. "Thank you, Mingyu. For everything."

He smiled, gently squeezing your hand. "Always."

You shook your head. "I really mean it. Thank you for always being there," you said sincerely.

Mingyu looked at you, stunned by your words. "You knew?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

You nodded slowly. "Everyone knows."

Mingyu's face flushed slightly. "I know you weren't that stupid for stepping over regulations, helping with my cases," you mentioned as you took your first spoonful of food.

You frowned slightly. "It doesn't have green onion. You remembered?" you asked, surprised.

Mingyu rolled his eyes. "Of course I remembered."

You chuckled and playfully slapped his arm. "Stop acting like that to women!"

Mingyu raised his hand to pat your head, smiling softly. "Only for you."

You bit your lip, trying to stop yourself from saying something. However, Mingyu noticed it and said, "Just say it."

You sighed and set the food on the nightstand before turning to face him. "You know what happened to Wonwoo is not your fault, right?"

Mingyu shifted uncomfortably on your bed, his eyes wandering. There was a pregnant pause before he finally spoke. "I—I don't know. I—I just can't stop thinking and blaming myself."

You reached out and took his hand, feeling the tension in his grip. "Mingyu, none of us could have predicted what happened. Wonwoo made his choice to save everyone. He was a hero, and you did everything you could."

Mingyu's eyes met yours, filled with anguish. "But I should have been there. I should have done more."

"You were there, and you did everything you could," you insisted, squeezing his hand. "We all did. This job, it comes with risks, and we all knew that. Blaming yourself won't bring him back."

Mingyu sighed deeply, the weight of his guilt still pressing down on him. "I just wish things had been different."

"We all do," you whispered. "But we have to keep moving forward. For Wonwoo, for each other, and for the team."

Mingyu nodded slowly, his eyes still clouded with grief. "I know. It's just hard."

"It is," you agreed. "But we're in this together. We'll get through it, one step at a time."

He looked at you, his expression softening. "Thank you. For everything."

"Always," you replied, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. "Now, let's finish this food before it gets cold."

Mingyu managed a small smile, the first hint of light breaking through the darkness. "Okay. No green onions, just for you."

You chuckled, the sound a small but significant step toward healing. "Just for me."

*

It was nearly 3 a.m. when you and Mingyu decided to step out of the office together after a long night shift. You had just finished your leave and had fully recovered, while Mingyu had been dealing with everything related to Cubic over the past three months. Despite the challenges, things were looking up—especially now that he had you to come home to.

Everyone was thrilled when Mingyu finally revealed that you two were back together. Seungcheol, ever the perceptive leader, was the first to know. His response was typically Seungcheol: "I sensed that would happen." Meanwhile, the rest of the team, who had been watching Mingyu wander around like a lost soul since your separation, were ecstatic. They couldn't stop showering him with playful, embarrassing comments.

"My wish for today is that I won't see you running, on your first day back at work, catching some bastard," Mingyu said, a hint of a smile on his face as he placed an order for the two of you.

You both decided to stop at an old restaurant nearby your place. It was open 24 hours and served home-cooked meals—a usual go-to spot for you, Mingyu, and Wonwoo after night shifts. The owner, recognizing you both, was surprised to see you weren't alone this time.

"I'm so sorry for your friend," she said gently. "Here's a house service."

She handed you a plate of mandu, Wonwoo's favorite appetizer. Mingyu and you smiled gratefully at her before savoring the familiar taste.

"Shit, I didn't expect this atmosphere," Mingyu mumbled, hiding his face in his hands, still chewing on the mandu.

You reached out and touched his arm gently. "I know. It's... different without him."

Mingyu nodded, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "This place... it was our spot."

You sighed, memories flooding back. "Yeah, it was. But I'm glad we came. It feels like he's still here with us, in a way."

Mingyu took a deep breath, lowering his hands to look at you. "I'm really glad you're back. I don't think I could have done this without you."

You smiled softly. "I'm glad to be back too. And we're going to get through this, together."

As the two of you sat there, sharing a meal and memories, the weight of the past few months began to lift. It wasn't easy, but you both knew that as long as you had each other, you could face anything the future held.

Once you two finished, Mingyu, who was facing the window, saw someone running while another followed. He cursed under his breath and lowered his head. You noticed his reaction and tried to look back.

"Promise me you won't get involved," he said, reminding you that your shift was over.

But then you saw Jihoon and Jisoo running in pursuit. You immediately stood up. "I have to go," you said, darting outside to follow your team members.

Mingyu sighed, pulling out his card to pay for the meal. The owner, noticing your sudden absence, approached with a curious look.

"Where's she? Did she leave already?" the owner asked.

Mingyu smiled wearily. "She's got a criminal to chase," he replied playfully before stepping out, scanning the area to find your whereabouts.

As you ran to catch up with Jihoon and Jisoo, the familiar adrenaline surged through your veins. Mingyu followed close behind, unable to ignore the pull of duty despite his earlier promise.

The chase was intense, but with Jihoon and Jisoo leading the way, you quickly caught up to the suspect. Jihoon tackled him to the ground while Jisoo expertly cuffed him. You arrived just in time to help them secure the scene.

"Nice work, team," you said, breathing heavily. Jihoon and Jisoo both gave you grateful nods, their expressions a mix of surprise and relief.

Just then, Mingyu arrived, slightly out of breath. "Nice job, everyone," he said, his tone a bit sharper than usual. Jihoon and Jisoo looked at him, then at you, confused.

"Wait, did Mingyu sunbae just follow you here?" Jihoon asked, raising an eyebrow.

You glanced at Mingyu, who looked slightly offended. "Yeah, we came together," you admitted.

Jisoo's eyes widened. "Together? Like, together-together?"

You nodded, a small smile forming. "Yeah, we're back together."

Jihoon and Jisoo exchanged surprised looks. "And you didn't think to tell us?" Jihoon teased, though there was genuine curiosity in his tone.

Mingyu crossed his arms, clearly still a bit annoyed. "Yeah, why didn't you tell them?" he asked you pointedly.

You sighed, rubbing the back of your neck. "I was going to, but there was never a good time. And then, well, this happened."

Jisoo grinned. "Well, it's about time! We've been wondering when you two would finally get back together."

Jihoon chuckled. "Yeah, the whole team has been rooting for you guys."

Mingyu's annoyance softened, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I guess we could've been more open about it," he admitted.

"Definitely," you agreed, reaching out to squeeze his hand. "From now on, no more secrets."

As the night continued, the team settled back into their routine, the camaraderie and shared purpose stronger than ever. You and Mingyu were back together, and despite the challenges ahead, you knew you could face them as long as you had each other.

[pennyblossom-meta]

Analysis of the romance in Death Note's Spiraling Trap game.

EDIT 02/03/2024: minor edits and fixes, added a few imgs and extra content.

A huge thank you to the folks over at agtteam who translated L - the ProLogue to Death Note: Spiraling Trap into English! Now we can all date L become FBI agents after hours.

I've been playing the game recently and one of the features I love the most is the L Communicator, which allows the main character (referred to as MC henceforth) to take a break from adventuring and listen to L talk about whatever is on his mind.

There's around one hundred different lines available as the MC develops a relationship with L and they paint him as such a sweet, attentive and thoroughly unique individual that I was surprised by how detailed it was. If you're thinking about playing, then this part is definitely worth putting effort into.

The mechanics of the dating sim are relatively simple: during the adventure, you'll pick up a number of recipes hidden among traps and tools. Then, Watari will provide the ingredients and you can give L whatever sweets he specifically craves. These recipes and cravings depend on the time of day and can be season specific.

Character analysis

As stated in-game, giving L sweets causes his appreciation for the MC to grow. However, L being L, means that he craves different sweets throughout the day. He's definitely very specific about what he likes and what he wants for his sugar fix.

However, if you give L something he isn't craving at that specific moment, he will sulk. The way he expresses his displeasure varies according to the depth of the budding relationship he has with the MC.

L: To tell you the truth, there are many other things I would have preferred. L: [F/N], I hate to say this, but I really would have preferred something else. L: F/N], you must know that I was hoping for something else, right? L: [F/N]… It’s not my favorite but, it made me really happy.

Note: Given that the books in the expanded universe (Another Note and L: Change the WorLd) came out before this game, I think some of the quotes further ahead might be a subtle nod to how L is perceived by the police forces as the "creepy murder detective". However, references about his piece of mind lead me to believe that L craves some respite from the burdens he carries on his shoulders — burdens so strong that they managed to curve his spine.

Note: I'm unsure how the system here works, as the MC also gets points for gaining L's trust in the actual adventure when they a) agree with his observations and b) find key objects hidden in unsuspecting places. It might affect the available lines through the L Communicator.

L: Today is going to be a better day… Let’s think positive. L: I wonder what kind of morning this will be. L: It seems the air outside is crisp this morning.

L: I want to finish what I need to get done before night falls. L: It’s nearly sunset. Time for children to go back home. L: If you just stare into space, night will be here before you know it.

L: It’s already evening… Time keeps passing me by. L: There’s something different about the air at night. L: Night-time, dusk… It’s the witching hour.

As a naturally introspective individual, L observes the world around him and draws conclusions. To my surprise, the game actually managed to capture how observant L is about small, unsuspecting details of daily life and give him a slightly poetic side laced with a hint of wistfulness that suits his character well.

This is a side of L in his private life that I personally wish we had been able to glimpse during the Kira investigation. Though, at the time, L was busy trying to prove that Light was, indeed, Kira. It left him little to no time to enjoy the world around him. During the brief time that L could have had a semblance of rest right before the Yotsuba arc, he was depressed that his deductions were "wrong" — though I could see him musing about some of the above, equal parts whimsy and sulking.

L: If I start to lose my touch… I guess I’ll retire. L: Another day, another mystery… L: I have a lot of thinking to do. L: I feel like doing some capoeira… L: I haven't played tennis for a while. L: The weather today is… Well, it matters not. L: I, um… No, ignore me. L: Am I reading too much into it…?

As a thinker, L has a lot of unfinished thoughts he says out loud. Some border on cliché, others are musings about things he'd like to do or that he's missing.

I wonder if some of his thoughts end up trailing off because, suddenly, he catches himself and believes they're not important? Or that he doesn't think the MC would be interested in what he has to say beyond work matters?

L: “In spring one sleeps a sleep that knows no dawn.” Though, too much sleep isn’t good for anyone. L: If you think about things persistently, noticing all the sides to them will come naturally. L: Strawberries… Despite the name, they aren’t actually berries. How berry disappointing. L: The one who has thought it through wins. It’s true for chess, and for deduction. But in the case of love… I don't know.

He's also a philosopher at heart, always thinking about the human condition. In these we can also witness his dry humour, silly puns along with a subtle desire to share his thoughts on the world and give helpful advice.

As for love, L is cautious but willing to learn. It's a topic where he's out of his depth.

L: Um, Watari is… L: I wonder if Watari’s asleep? L: What could Watari be up to? L: Today is Thanksgiving Day. I am truly grateful to Watari for his diligence.

I found it interesting how L's thoughts eventually go back to Watari and what he's doing. He's the one person that L relies on and whom he interacts with the most. Other people are passing acquaintances at best, who show little interest in L beyond work.

Notice how he mentions diligence? Although it is a utilitarian consideration, it also reveals a thankfulness for the comforts of familiarity and the peace of mind that trusting someone close brings. This is a topic we'll explore better at a later stage, i.e., how trust and acts of service work as a relationship builder.

Romance

Neutral stage

One of the first things I've noticed is that, during the early stages of the relationship, L is still very formal and quite a bit dismissive — even borderline rude. As his sugar fix gets sated by the MC's keen suggestions (Watari provides the ingredients, of course), L grows gradually more fond of them and wants to include the MC in his life with an enthusiasm I can only define as endearing.

L: Aren’t you bored? You don’t have to check in on me. L: Don’t you have stuff to do?

At the beginning, L is still wary of the MC on a personal level as they have absolutely no rapport beyond a partnership of circumstance and usefulness in the name of justice. He's quick to get bored and doesn't take it very well when he's given sweets he isn't craving. A bit childish, one could say, the way he sulks when the MC errs by not reading his mind.

L: Did I enjoy it? Let me just say “no comment”. (about sweets that weren't quite to his taste)

It's also very in-character for L to feel both annoyed at someone who is randomly calling him and be suspicious of their motives.

Growing interest

L: Spending the afternoon with you isn’t so bad. L: Even though it’s late, you’re not going to bed, huh? L: You must be a night owl, [F/N]. L: I’m a little curious about you, [F/N]. L: Are you having a good time? I’m just curious. L: You’re kind of… Ah, no, forget I said anything.

He starts addressing the MC by their first name as he becomes more enamoured. It's very sweet. I was pleasantly surprised at how attentive L becomes as he gradually comes to the conclusion that this is a person who understands him.

Mind, due to game mechanics the MC gains approval by giving L sweets, but from a narrative perspective what's really happening is that L not only feels seen and understood, but also accepted. And when that happens, he starts lowering his walls and relaxing.

As a plot device, I would say these are defining moments within L's thought process here; he's curious about the MC, finds them interesting enough to want to know more them and pursues that curiosity to see what they might have in common. It seems he's both a little baffled and content about this development.

L: [F/N], what do you think of when you see a sunset? L: What are you doing this afternoon? Oh, should I not have asked? L: Are you a night owl? Oh, you don’t have to answer if you don’t want.

It should also be noted that L is very mindful of boundaries. There's a tentative, almost shy attempt to connect. He's determined to indulge in his curiosity since the MC's attentiveness towards him shows an opening for closeness he's unused to (but is happy about) and to tend to his more immediate needs (i.e., food cravings), which in turn shows a genuine concern for him. Aside from Watari, I doubt anyone ever extended L similar kindness.

And it is in this determination to get to know the MC that I also find Mello's words (AA: LABB Murder Cases) that L is actually a very active, aggressive individual with absolutely no interest in social conventions perfectly represent him this game, as he navigates a growing fondness with expectation, curiosity and caution — on his own terms, while minding that he doesn't overstep.

L: Staying up late talking to you… It makes me feel calm.

I find it particularly heartbreaking how this confession of L unknowingly makes it more transparent how burdened he is. The spine curved by burdens unseen, the addiction to mind games and sweets; all of these point to stress factors which isolate him further, increasing the loneliness and lack of affection in his life.

That L feels the need to mention the MC makes him feel calm seems telling.

L: We’re both late workers, huh? That makes me happy. L: [F/N]… You’re pretty formidable. L: It’s reassuring to have a partner like you. You’re someone I can trust. L: Your feelings have been received. (Valentine's Day) L: The fact we’ve become so close was an unexpected development on my part.

And here it is, the acknowledgement just as L enters the highest stages of approval, where he expresses admiration and happiness at the close bond he developed with the MC.

"An unexpected development on my part" is quite the turn of phrase. One can only wonder, but I'd make an educated guess that L didn't see this coming because:

a) no one showed feelings towards him before. In his line of work, hidden behind a screen there is no time to indulge or get attached to anyone (he would mistrust their intentions anyway) and so L keeps everyone at arms length, sharing little more than a professional side of himself and fostering utilitarian relationships that help him win "games". L ultimately carries various burdens the average civilian would never be able to understand, all due to the pressure of his job. When failing at the "game of cat and mouse" means being responsible for the likely deaths of dozens, perhaps even hundreds or thousands, the stakes are up in unimaginable ways. What started as a thrill chase can have catastrophic consequences should L fail. That in itself alienates him from society at large. It's a game that L plays well and absolutely profits from, but it is also an indicative of two major flaws: his addictive personality and how he suppresses his emotions to carry on. Coincidentally, it's the expanded universe, in particular Another Note: LA BB Murder Case and L: Change the WorLd, that give us the best insight into this. This isn't too dissimilar to the struggles policemen face in high risk jobs or technicians who have to flag and delete sensitive content from online platforms. These people end up changed from what they see — and some carry traumas for the rest of their lives. That's not to say that L doesn't feel for others. He respects people whom he considers good or morally upstanding (Soichiro Yagami), who are competent in their line of work (Naomi Misora, Mogi), worthy of a second chance (Aiber and Wedy), who speak their minds, unafraid (Aizawa) or who are reliable, loyal to him as a person and not just his cause, in whom he can place his trust and feel secure won't betray him (Watari). The MC seems to fall mostly in the last category, though the relationship is rather precocious — and there seems to be a fair amount of wishful thinking and even projecting on L's part, since communication happens over a device connecting two people remotely. He falls both for the idea of the individual and their attentiveness towards him. When L mentions that they make him feel calm, I'd argue it comes both as a surprise to him and a confession of a closeness and safety he intimately craved — though I personally view L as someone who feels lonely and wanting healthy human contact, even if his social skills might not be the best (worsened by his distrust of people as a whole). Someone who ultimately is willing to adapt to him but whom he can adapt to, as well. Someone who sees him as a person and not an unfeeling robot. It's a POV that certainly challenges certain aspects of DN: Vol 13. I would further argue that L's portrayal has evolved significantly beyond the manga, and that his subsequent humanising is partially a result of the creative liberties the English translations took, as well as a more empathetic view of the character and hidden struggles. Each medium displays a separate iteration of L, with common variables.

b) L fosters distant relationships with others as a safety measure. Aside from Watari, L's contact with other people had always been distant, work-focused, perhaps even tainted by notions of his supposed creepiness as a kinky detective "who relished bizarre murders" (L:CtW). He's useful to the police because he achieves favourable results, though L is still viewed as "a human computer, capable only of measuring mass murders in terms of cold numbers, a reclusive sociopath" (L:CtW). He isn't necessarily liked; in fact, I would argue he rubs people the wrong way most of the time — as we can see during his interactions with the Task Force, during the events of Death Note. L is tolerated, a useful asset who is both mysterious and a pain to deal with. However, he's also put on a pedestal due to his status (i.e., Relight, the children at Wammy's). For the latter, he purposely shatters their idea of L as this unbeatable, paragon of justice by defining himself as a monster (anime), a dishonest cheating human being who hates losing (manga). I do share in lux-mea-lex's perspective on L doubting his own humanity and how it fuels a certain self-hatred for distrusting everyone around him. As lux mentions, "love comes with trust" and L is an excellent detective precisely because he questions everything and everyone — but it comes at a cost: his own loneliness. To draw a parallel, L's ultimate flaw — and that which makes him great at his job — is not unlike what we see during the moments of extreme anguish that Veronica Mars goes through in her personal relationships and which draw people away from her when she oversteps boundaries to prove she's not being lied to. That mistrust comes from experience, for people burdened with having seen too much and it's not unlike a kind of paranoia acquired when one has to deal with the worst of humanity on a daily basis.

Full reciprocity

L: [F/N] you’re the light that illuminates the dark night. That’s an exaggeration of course, but… L: What I need to live is glucose… and to talk to you. Nourishment for my brain and heart. L: When we’re together, I feel like there’s no problem we can’t solve. L: The afternoons I get to spend with you are precious to me.

When the MC achieves the stage of full reciprocity with L, he's very open to showing vulnerability and lowering his emotional defenses. I found this to be particularly sweet, as L is such a secretive man with so many hidden layers that him being willing to show such honesty with that one person he holds dear is incredible character development.

Beyond the game, I would say that achieving this stage with L would be much more difficult and, naturally, would involve going beyond picking the best sweets for him.

Something important to keep in mind is that L seems to value acts of service, as the people who interact with him more closely have some utility value and aid his work. However, L's life revolves around his work; he lives and breathes his detective work, which is why having a partner who brings him peace would be so important.

L: The time I spend with you is as important to me as the sweets. L: Good morning. It makes me really happy to see you here. L: For your sake… I’d think of a way to get through anything. We share a bond. L: When you have time, I’d like to take you to a shop that makes the best sweets. L: When you’re free, how about we play tennis together? I will have Watari reserve a court. L: If something were to happen to me… I want you, as the person I hold dearest, to carry on the L moniker. L: When my thoughts hit a dead end late at night, I feel like I’m stuck in a maze. But, having you here makes me feel reassured.

I also found it very sweet how L takes the initiative to plan for activities to do together with the MC. And how their presence, their reassuring words make him feel at ease. It seems that a loving relationship would give L a goal in life beyond his work.

Carrying on the L moniker... this quote might be the result of L's trust in the MC growing during the events of the game, or a sentiment L nurtures due to the MC being attentive enough to understand his specific cravings. But being able to read L and having the mental dexterity to become him are different things, as the latter involves a lifestyle that few would want and a complete focus on work. Even FBI agents have lives beyond work.

L: I learned from you that sweets are the bond that brings people together. L: You give me true peace of mind. No one could ever replace you. L: The way I am now, I… I can’t think straight when you’re not around. L: Being able to share this sunset with you, I couldn’t ask for anything more. L: You understand, don’t you [F/N]? What my heart so strongly desires is something more… L: When I talk to you, I feel like my senses are sharpened. Thanks to that, my radar has become more sensitive.

What a sweet guy. I love how L focuses on the little things and just wants to spend time together with the person he holds dearest. It's almost as if he daydreams a close, loving relationship — a trait that clashes with L's logical side.

This game and the expanded universe of Death Note have convinced me that there are many more layers to L than what we can see in the main story.

As Fu Takahashi, who plays L in the 2020 Japanese version of the musical, said:

“(...) A common thing about L among these versions is that, despite his superficial image as a smart guy who hates losing, he actually feels lonely and needs affection, I imagine. Perhaps he is an orphan – his character suggests so. He tries to control his emotions, like the feelings towards his parents, or romantic feelings; that’s why he is sort of dependent on games or battles of the mind. So I want to play L while thinking about the foundations on which his personality has been formed.”

I think this quote and the game are actually very telling of L's core personality and how it moves beyond that cold, calculating persona that defines him in the manga. It's also more in line with the characterisation that we see in the anime and the books, which help humanise L.

As I mentioned elsewhere, learning how to trust and be comfortable around someone else would do L wonders. Though that person would have to accept him for who he is and help him learn how to navigate a healthy relationship.

Perhaps the true test of love, for L, would even be for him to be confronted with someone who knows who he really is and, is not only kind to him, but also sees the best in him — regardless of his flaws. I think that we've had a glimpse of it in this game and it's a breath of fresh air.