#game of thrones tickles

[gingerlee-holds]

Viper's Venom

The info for this fic is here! TLDR: this is my Squealing Santa for @angelatmidnight1! It was very fun to write and I hope you enjoy! Goodness, I hope I haven't forgotten something-!

Word Count: 2,193 Reading Time: ~17 minutes Warnings: Mentions of death, tickling Fandom: Game of Thrones Pairing: Oberyn Martell x Reader (Implied romantic)

"Fresh blood oranges, right from the tree!" Y/N Sand shouted. The announcement of goods and their prices, along with many other varieties of speech, filled the Dornish bazaar, which made it very hard to hear oneself think. Luckily, Y/N has spent the last decade of their life training their craft in this place, selling their family's blood oranges and making a lot of money from it, too. 

Sunspear, the capital of Dorne, with its warm climate and scent of fiery peppers, always brought peace of mind to Y/N. They wore an orange robe to match the fruit they sold, with a golden necklace around their neck that glittered like the sun. They always loved it when the wind blew through the market because the sweet smell of her blood oranges could travel far.

A man in a yellow cloak appeared in the crowd, whose saunter caught Y/N's attention. He approached the stall, picking up an orange and inspecting it closely.

"This is fine fruit," he said, more to himself than the seller. 

Y/N smiled at such an opportunity landing in front of them. "You have a good eye! These are among the finest blood oranges in Dorne. Can't be beaten within a hundred miles around by the gods!" 

He looked up from the orange in his hand to look at Y/N thoughtfully. "I have had enough of blood for a while." His accent was distinctly Dornish, his face was sharp, and his eyes were piercing. "In short, I am not interested in your wares."

"I'm sorry to hear that, friend. Another day, perhaps!"

The man leaned over the counter. "I never said I was leaving," he said softly. A tense minute of silence followed as each studied the other's face. Finally, the man smiled, mumbling, "You are a Sand."

A blush of embarrassment crept up Y/N's face at the mention of their low birth. "You have a better eye than I thought," they said, trying to keep a grin on their face.

"Oh, do not be ashamed, sweet thing. Sands are my favorite." He smiled with all his teeth. "My absolute favorite."

Finally, a flash of recognition came across Y/N's face as they realized the man's identity. "You're Oberyn Martell- Prince Oberyn Martell!"

"I am, yes. And you are?"

"Y/N Sand. I'm glad to see you're doing okay. You didn't announce your arrival?"

"I do not like entourages." 

"Then why have you come here? Were you seeking to find something?"

"I was seeking to find someone, and now I have."

"We were all worried when you heard you were fighting in the trial by combat, especially for the Imp. How did you-"

The prince quickly put a hand to Y/N's lips. "Shhhh, sh, sh. Enough talk. Would you like a visit to the Water Gardens?"

"Your palace? I could find the time." Y/N smiled shyly, touching their necklace. 

Prince Oberyn smiled with his teeth again, holding Y/N's hand as he led them away from the busy market. 

As they walked together through the streets, Y/N continued asking questions, keeping their hand on their necklace the whole time.

"So, how did you win?"

"Hm? Against Gregor Clegane?"

"That brute. The Mountain that Rides. I heard he was nine feet tall!"

Oberyn chuckled. "Closer to eight, by my estimate." Another silence followed. "I poisoned my blade. That is all I need to say about that."

Y/N touched their necklace again.

"Why do you keep doing that? Your necklace."

"Ah, it was given to me by a handsome merchant a few years back for my help with some errands. He said it made me more attractive, something about magic."

Oberyn brushed a lock of Y/N's hair behind their ear. "I don't know about magic, but you have plenty of good looks without a necklace."

The fruit seller blushed and looked away, making the prince laugh. 

-

As the pair entered through the gates of the Water Gardens, the sound of raucous laughter fluttered through the air. The artificial pools and rivers before them were filled with splashing and play. 

"Children. My brother adores the sound. Come, let us go to a more sequestered location." Still holding their hand, Oberyn led through a courtyard. Through another, finally ending in a smaller, more sheltered area with an orange tree in the corner, casting the spot in a warm shade and a minor waterfall feature forming a little brook that trickled through the grass. 

"It's beautiful." Y/N stepped through the grass, smiling at the cool breeze and the shade of the orange tree.

"I have come here many times with many people." Oberyn walked forward with his usual strut, taking off his cloak and setting it on a bench. He wore a bronze-colored tunic underneath.

"This is an honor, my prince. I-" Their statement was cut off by Oberyn's laugh again. 

"Have you ever spoken to a prince?"

Y/N huffed and looked down at the grass. Suddenly, two of Prince Oberyn's fingers tilted their chin to look him in the eye. "I am asking you a question."

The action made Y/N blush. "I'm a bit out of practice." They liked his laugh. It was rich and infectious, filling any room he was in. 

"You will learn again. For now, though, here." With that, he gently sat Y/N down against the tree on the grass. "You are as delicate as a flower. I mustn't be rough with you." Again, he spoke more to himself than Y/N.

"May I ask why you brought me here?"

"You may."

A brief silence followed before Y/N, giggling, said, "Why did you bring me here?"

"Such a lovely laugh. I brought you here because I've spent the past week on the road, traveling through the desert wastes, all hoping to get home and spend the day with a pretty little dove. I am home, have found a pretty little dove, and am perfectly satisfied."

"Are you this flirtatious with everyone you meet?"

"You must know enough about me to know I am - not to suggest you do not deserve every word." He sat down beside Y/N, facing them. "Take your sandals off, you silly dove. How often have you felt grass between your toes?"

Giggling again, Y/N removed their sandals, smiling at the sensation of the cool earth under them. "You're very sweet despite everything your reputation makes you out to be."

"The infamous Red Viper of Dorne, sweet? This is new."

Y/N grinned cheekily, boldly saying, "You're not a viper; you're a milk snake." 

Oberyn's eyes widened in surprise, staring at Y/N. "Would you like to repeat that, little dove?"

Summoning every ounce of courage, Y/N stuck out their tongue. "A milk snake!" they said with a laugh, which turned into a yelp when they saw Oberyn move toward them. Y/N jumped to their feet, backing away.

The prince stood as well, smiling. "Oh, no, no, no! You cannot leave now! You have committed a reprehensible wrong against my name! I must have my justice, you know."

"W-wait, just stay away. I didn't mean it!"

"But you said it all the same. I am afraid I cannot have you leaving to tell everyone Prince Oberyn is the Milk Snake of Dorne, now can I?"

"I'm sorry! You're a viper, a vicious red viper!"

"And I'll make sure you remember that!" With those words, the prince lunged toward missing Y/N by a hair as they ran, leaping over the brook, laughing as they looked behind them to see a very evil-looking Oberyn at their heel. Y/N ran from the courtyard into a hallway, dodging down halls and around corners, hoping to lose the prince in the maze. 

They turned a final corner, and ahead, they saw a pretty courtyard with an orange tree and a waterfall feature. Before they could think, they ran right into Oberyn's arms, scooped right off their feet as he carried them bridal-style back to the shade of the tree.

"My little dove returned at last to face their punishment! How noble and brave you must be!" Oberyn kissed Y/N on the brow, setting them on the grass. "If you try to escape again, it will only worsen for you."

Y/N Sand nodded, keeping their mouth shut.

"Good! I would punish you now, but I have chosen a different approach. I will let the gods decide your fate. I demand a trial by combat."

"What! C-combat?!"

Oberyn stood a few paces away, grinning playfully. "To your feet, my dove." Y/N jumped up, and the prince rushed forward, ducking under Y/N's arms and knocking their legs out from under them. Flat on their back, Oberyn straddled their waist. "You are not very good at this."

"Noho, I'm not! Now let me up! You've made your point."

"I have not won yet!" Y/N felt a hand slide inside their robe, gently squeezing a spot just above their hip, and they began squealing. "A squealer! I should have guessed!"

"H-hehehey! Nohohohow wahahhait juhuhust a mihihinute!" 

"I will do no such thing! I must clear my name in the sight of gods and men!" Oberyn's fingers danced expertly, precisely finding every ticklish spot on his poor victim. 

Y/N squirmed and laughed uncontrollably, their protests lost in powerless laughter. "T-tihihihickling! Thihihis ihihis ridihihihihiculous!!!" 

The prince's nimble fingers moved to Y/N's sides, squeezing like a baker kneading bread. "I will tell you what is ridiculous, my dove. Insulting the name of a prince in his palace while being so very ticklish. I cannot imagine what would bring a silly little dove like yourself to such absurdity."

The teasing elicited more squeaky giggles from the poor merchant, who kicked their legs helplessly. Oberyn's hands moved up to Y/N's ribcage, wriggling over each little rib. 

"So many vital organs in here. Maybe if I wriggle my fingers here enough, I can tickle them, too. Do you hear that, little dove? I think your heart wants to be tickled as well! Nobody wants to be left out, right?"

"THihiHIHihis ihIhIHis CruhUhuhUel! StoHoHHop TehehHEheheasing!" 

"Cruel? That is a title I will not deny. Now, I must get a confession out of you, dove! Did you insult my name?" Oberyn smiled with his teeth again, genuinely pleased by the adorable sight before him. "Come on, sweet one, say it." His hands moved up finally to Y/N's neck, scribbling around. 

"OohOHOhohoberyn!! MeheheEHhehercyyhyy!!!" Y/N squealed.

"I'll give you mercy! You must first confess! Did you insult my name, yes or no?" 

"Ihihihi cohohonfehehess toho nohohothing!"

"A bratty little dove you are. Fine then! Feel the bite of the viper!" With that, he curled his pointer and middle fingers to look like snake fangs and drilled them into Y/N's sides, eliciting a defeated shriek from the small merchant. 

"FUHUHUHUCK!! GEHEHET OHOFFA MEHEHEHEHEEE!!!"

"You should be feeling my venom coursing through your veins by now. Rather potent, I'm afraid. Is it making you feel all squirmy and blushy? I think I can see it taking effect!" 

"YOUHUHU'RE SUHUHUHUCH A JEHEHEHERK!!! CUHUHUHUT IHIHIHIT OUHUHUT!!!" Y/N was in hysterics, writhing and cackling.

Surprisingly, Oberyn stopped, leaning back with a smug expression. "Will you confess? Confess, and I'll send you to the Wall! I do not want to kill you, you know!" 

Despite every single brain cell screaming at them not to make things worse for themselves, Y/N giggled and said, "You're such a milk snake, hisssssEEEHEEHEEEEK!!!"

Their cheeky hissing was cut off by more 'viper bites' before Oberyn turned around. "Very well! I, Prince Oberyn Martell, sentence you to death by tickling!" he giggled, keeping Y/N's feet pinned. "I knew I made the right call by telling you to take off those sandals."

"N-noHohohoho! Wait, wait, hold on! Can't we negotiate a pardon?"

"Absolutely not, my dove! Justice is a significant thing to me, you should know. Now, I hope you aren't ticklish here, for your sake."

Unfortunately, Y/N was very ticklish there, which Oberyn quickly learned once he began scribbling around on their soles. The prince's fingers explored every inch of Y/N's feet, marking each spot. However, when he got to the toes, Y/N's laughter turned silent, a sign it was time to stop. 

Oberyn got up, quite pleased with himself, and sat under the orange tree. Y/N regained their breath and looked up at him, a blush and a giddy smile plastered on their face. They crawled up next to him and wrapped an arm around his torso. "Monster," they spat playfully. 

"Careful, dove," he chuckled, wiggling his fingers again, making the merchant bury their face in his chest. "Get some rest. From my experience, trials are entirely exhausting." He yawned to prove his point. 

"Ihihit wasn't your trial!" 

"I've never been on trial. Well, except for that one time." He chuckled, rubbing Y/N's back. "A story for another time. For now, though, rest. I promise you will not find a more peaceful place than this in a thousand summers." 

Oberyn was right. It didn't take long for Y/N's eyes to begin drooping. Little by little, they fell asleep, a smile still on their face, cuddled into the arms of what must be the most charming prince in Westeros in the shade of an orange tree.

[amazingmsme]

Death Wish

AN: got fans come get your dinner! Here’s the Brienne x Jamie fic as promised! Idk how y’all survived this long without fluffy fics, this fandom is living off CRUMBS! But I wrote Jamie & Brienne flirting & teasing each other to fix it. Enjoy day 13!

Brienne would be lying to herself if she said she wasn't excited to see Jamie again. In their time together, he had really grown on her, as much as she tried to fight or deny the fact. The man had a decent wit to carry on an interesting conversation, and a dry sense of humor that always seemed to leave a smirk on her face.

But apparently, that wasn't good enough for Jamie Lannister.

They were alone in his room, or rather, his guest room, sharing a couple glasses of wine and nibbling on some cheese he'd brought with him from the south. He had just finished a joke, and when he didn't get the expected reaction, he couldn't help but pout, even if it was slightly for show.

"Am I just not funny to you?" he asked outright, when she merely huffed in amusement at his joke. She furrowed her brows in confusion.

"What do you mean?" she cocked her head to the side curiously.

"You never laugh at anything I say; well, you have, but more at my expense," he clarified, making her pause for thought. He had really been trying to amuse her all this time... She bit back a fond smile.

"If you're concerned I don't find you amusing, you can put your fears to rest," she assured. Jamie sat up a little straighter, leaning across the table.

"So you do like my jokes?" he pressed further, flashing a drunken, but no less charming, grin.

She couldn't help but roll her eyes. "Yes, alright? Is that what you want to hear?" she caved easily.

"Then would it kill you to just laugh at them every once in a while? I'll even take a chuckle," he bargained.

""You're ridiculous."

"And you act as though humor will be the thing that does you in."

The glare she sent his way shut him up. "I'm simply not as," she paused in thought, "Forthcoming, with my amusement."

He blew her off, tossing his head back in annoyance as he waved a hand. "Excuses, excuses."

"Why do you even care?" she asked incredulously. This wasn't even important, and there were certainly better topics of discussion to focus on. She wasn't used to being the center of attention.

"Curiosity, I suppose," he shrugged. "I've never heard you laugh," he said, sounding surprisingly genuine. He was leaning against the table, chin propped up in his hands as he stared at her with big, green eyes. She quickly adverted her own gaze.

"It's nothing special," she insisted.

"Maybe, but I want to see for myself."

She wasn't expecting it. Honestly, it was the last thing she was expecting, and as such, she had lowered her guard. But his hand snuck under the table, giving her knee a few rapid squeezes, and she froze with a choked off gasp, leg jerking up and banging the table. Their plates clattered and tankards sloshed as she tried to will away the blush spreading across her cheeks.

"I knew it! I mean, I was hopeful, but I knew you just had to be ticklish!" he bragged, despite the fact that the only hand he had left was currently held in a vice grip. The bewildered look on her face was worth it.

"What are you talking about?" she hissed, looking him up and down as though he'd gone mad.

"Well if I can't get you to laugh the traditional way, this'll just have to do!"

"No, Jamie, I swear-" she cut herself off with a bark of laughter when he wiggled free from her grasp and immediately went back to tickling her knees. As hard as she tried, she couldn't contain her mirth, only getting louder as he continued.

"So knees are a good spot. Makes sense, you're all legs," he teased, spidering over her kneecap. She shrieked and doubled over, fist hitting the table as she tried to chase his hand away.

Finally, she caught him.

"Do you hahave a death wish?" she asked, panting as she caught her breath.

Jamie never looked so smug.

"Do you really have to ask?" he cocked his head, arching a brow playfully.

"Alright then. Your turn."

Suddenly, he changed his tune.

"Wait no, we can tahahalk about thihihis!" But it was already too late for that.

"What's there to talk about? I warned you, but you didn't listen," she pointed out. Her hands dug into his sides, and he immediately burst into shrill giggles.

"Thahat was barely ahaha warnIIIIING! Nohoho plehehease, not thehere!”

"I mean, honestly, you're lucky I didn't just take the other hand," she taunted, though she tried to appear annoyed.

"Ihif you dihihid, I'd tehehell everyone about how I- nohoho wahahait!" he cut himself off with bright, cheerful laughter as her hands lowered to knead his hips. He twisted and bucked as he tried in vein to stop her, but he didn't exactly mind the situation he found himself in.

Still, he needed to breathe.

"Ohohokay, I'm sorry, Ihi'm sohohorry!" he pleaded, grateful when he was given a break.

"Yeah?" she questioned, and he nodded frantically, sporting a giddy smile. "You sure?" More nodding. "I don't believe you."

"But- Brienne nohoho! Plehehease!"

"I should've done this ages ago! You would've been so much easier to deal with if I knew this was all it took to take down the dreaded Kingslayer." It was rare for her to show emotion, even more so if those feelings stemmed from affection. Yet here she was, actually teasing him.

Surely that had to count for something.

Her fingers were long and slender, able to work their way into any ticklish spot they could find. Jamie tried to hold out, he really did. Because it was downright embarrassing how right she was; just a few fluttering touches and well placed squeezes, and he was already tapping out.

"You wihihin, YOU WIN!" he blurted when her hands rested on his thighs. She arched a brow, staring down at him quizzically, but a fond smile tugged at her lips.

"Oh really? What do I win?" she asked nonchalantly as he continued to unravel.

"A-ahahanythihihing!" he blurted out, and Brienne had to bite back a laugh of her own. He was truly desperate, wasn't he? He had to be, if he was begging like this.

"Anything?" she questioned, drilling her thumbs against his hipbones. He let out a high pitched shriek before tossing his head back.

"W-within reason!" he quickly stuttered out before cutting himself off with an embarrassing snort. His face flushed a dark pink and he shook his head weakly, smiling so wide his cheeks hurt.

"Well then, that's not anything now, is it?" she asked in an even tone, softly pinching her way up his sides, his ribs, slowly traveling higher and higher. Jamie was squirming more the higher she went, babbling pleas pouring from his mouth.

"B-Briehehehenne nohoho! P-plehehease, nohot thehehere! NOHOHOT THEHEHERE!" he screamed when she reached her destination, pressing his arms down to his sides. This only served to trap her hands there, leaving him no other choice but to laugh. Joyful cackling filled the air, and she knew he only had one hand to fight back, but he wasn't even trying.

Wait, did he like this? Then, a worse thought: was she liking this?

The new revelation was sudden and alarming, and she needed to put an end to this stupid little game he had started. But not without taking his offer first.

"Alright, I'll let you go. But you owe me a favor. Any favor, any time I need it, no questions asked no matter what," she had to raise her voice slightly to be heard over his hysterics.

"OHOKAHAHAY! YEHEHES I'LL DO IHIT! SOUNDS GREHEHEAT!"

Okay, at this point she seriously doubted he was even listening, but he agreed, so she tugged her hands free. He giggled and jerked back when her fingers wiggled one last time as she pulled away.

"Do you even know what you agreed to?" she asked, not even bothering to hide her smirk as she watched him recover.

"Something about a favor," he shook his head, dazzling smile still firmly in place. He doubted it would be leaving any time soon.

"Good thing I was bluffing."

Wait, what did he just say?

Brienne looked at him with wide eyes, barely having a second to brace herself before getting body slammed out of her chair.

"You see," he started as he struggled to pin her arms beneath his legs while straddling her waist, "I always win tickle fights." Most of the time. "So I have a reputation to uphold."

"You lying bastard! Now let me go!" she growled, trying to squirm her way to freedom. He was heavier than she expected, and it wasn't so easy to just throw him off. Or so she told herself.

"No, I don't think so. I only found one tickle spot!"

"And that's all you need to find," she said, trying to sound threatening.

"So there's more?" he asked, resting his hand on her waist. She went completely stiff, lips pressed into a thin line.

"I never said that."

"You didn't have to."

And then he struck, and as hard as she tried, she couldn't contain the laughter that flooded out of her.

"Feel free to yield at any time," he taunted, and Brienne regretted letting him off so easy. No way would she tap out from just a little tickling, she refused. But depending on how ruthless he proved to be, she might not have a choice.

She'll just have to weigh her options when she's desperate enough.

[thebest-medicine]

I’m seriously so happy with those possible got pairs, but for some fucking reason Brienne & Jaime have me in a chokehold & I’m dying to see something with these 2! Dealers choice between 56, 67, & 72 because I couldn’t pick & they all seem so fitting! You can pick who gets got as well because I could honestly see it going either way

Prompt 56 - “I never would’ve pegged you as the ticklish type.” 

Prompt 67 - “Well now, that seems like wishful thinking.”

Prompt 72 - “As soon as I get out of this I hope you know I’m going to murder you.”

A/N: How about ALL THREE hehehehehehe. This was so fun to write! I love them! Thank you for the prompts I hope you like it!

…

“Yes, yes, it’s very funny.” Jaime grumbled. “Just- get me out of this stupid, useless–HEY! Be–” 

Brienne snorted out a short laugh, pausing where she had tried to tug the ill-suited Northern armor loose from Jaime’s torso. 

“–careful.” He hissed, squirming where he stood with his arms half pinned out to the sides and unable to move down further. 

Unable to resist her curiosity, Brienne slid her fingers up under the side of the plate armor and prodded at his side.

Jaime jumped, scrambling a few inches from her where he could manage. “Hey! What is wrong with y–”

She cut him off with a mischievous grin. “I never would have pegged you as the ticklish type.”

Jaime groaned, trying to twist and gain leverage to free himself by himself. “As soon as I get out of this, I hope you know, I am going to murder you.” 

Brienne smiled at him, glancing down at where his legs were tangled in their own armored cages. “Well, come now, that seems like wishful thinking.”

“What does?” Jaime huffed impatiently. “That I could kill you?”

“No.” She laughed lightly, amused. “That you’re going to be in any shape to do anything by the time you get out of this.” 

Jaime’s knees seemed to liquefy at her words just as he half-gasped out, “I —what?” 

She reached in again, scribbling deliberately this time at his skin. Jaime sucked in a shivering breath, drawing his stomach in tight. It was useless, but he tried to squirm away from the lingering touch of her fingers. 

“B-Brienne.” Jaime choked out, voice higher than she had ever heard him. “Please.” 

“You know, you’re almost cute enough to have pity on.” She smirked, reaching up to tousle his hair. 

Jaime snorted at that, shaking his head to try to get it out of her way, however useless his attempts may have been. “Get me out of this or I’ll— ohgods stop stahahahop! Nohohoho!” 

“You’re not the one giving the orders..” She teased, running her fingernails up and down his abdomen gently, scribbling them about like the legs of a spider. 

“Ohmygods stop- please! I’ll do anything!” Jaime hissed, shaking with barely-suppressed laughter. 

“Anything?” She asked playfully.

“Anything!” Jaime answered quickly, his eyes wide. “Please!” 

“Oh alright… How about I stop tickling and help you out of here…” Brienne began, “if after I do, you let me see where else you’re ticklish.” 

Jaime’s face grew warm. “What? I- I’m not tick—”

“Really?” She asked sarcastically, prodding her fingers into his side and making him squeak. 

“Okay, okay fine! No traps–and no, no tying my arms up like this godsawful—”

“Careful… that armor belongs to the Starks, it would be wise not to insult it.” 

Jaime closed his mouth, looking down. “Can you… please, get me out of this.” He spoke as calmly as he could, his stomach still dancing with butterflies at the prospect of being tickled any more.

“Why yes, I do believe I can help.” Brienne winked, laughing as she reached up to wriggle Jaime’s arms loose from the heavy armor set. 

Finally, he was freed. His arms came down swiftly to rub out the excess tickles from his sides. “Shit. Remind me never to try something like that again.” 

“Oh I think you’ll remember.” Brienne smirked, starting toward the stairs. “Now then, when we get back upstairs, take off those boots.” 

Jaime blushed, his eyes widening at her comment. But he followed her, faltering only slightly in his step as he honored his word and went to pay his debt.

…

[more sentence starter fic prompts]

[other sentence starter fics]

[read this & further GOT drabbles on ao3]

[chalterdh22]

How Do You Get a Prince to Talk? Part 2

This is Part 2 of How do You Get a Prince to Talk? Part 1

Thank you for everyone who wanted a sequel!  Again, trying to keep this PG-13, was extremely hard.

Summary:  Our favorite Prince of Dorne, Oberyn Martell, has been acting a little distant, and off putting as of late.  Ellaria, a few of his girls and you have not only noticed but decided to get him to talk.  With you at their side, tickling him into submission seemed like the way to go.  Then, still without any admission, he turns the tables and says you’re next!

Warnings: Tickling, so if you’re not into that, move on.  Nothing mature related, but several times were everyone knows what is being discussed.  So hard to write.  MFFF/F dom.  FFFM ler and F lee.  Discussions about his inner circle of lovers, obviously.  Enjoy!

A few weeks had went by since our small teaching of manners, with our beloved Prince, Oberyn Martell.  Everyday, I thought to myself, this is the day.  A part of me wanted it.  But a larger part of me thought I would die if what we did to him was done to me.  Elaria, sensing my swing of emotions, messed with me by gently brushing against my side every so often, or laugh at something she was reading, saying that tickled her!

I would glare back as she smirked at me.  Oberyn must have talked to her, although I’m not sure when.  The following day, he left Dorne on a mission and was gone for about three weeks, until the guards announced his entrance again.

A bunch of his servants, including myself, rushed to the front entrance, curtsied, and smiled as he strolled back in, thankfully unharmed.

There was a big feast that night, where he invited several of his servants and staff, and of course, Elaria, always by his side.  He was very passionate with her again, which pleased me, as she was a true friend and I didn’t like seeing her frustrated with him like he was.

After the feast, there was a huge “celebration,” which many were invited.  He invited me to it as well, like his norm, and I politely declined.  He would smile and say, maybe next time.  I in return would bring them what they needed to keep their time enjoyable.  I then would leave the room and sit quietly waiting for further instructions, enjoying the peace.

A few weeks went by with this going on and on.  One evening, I was walking through one of the many palace gardens, just looking around, smelling, smiling.  I have a small leaf in my hand I kept twirling, touching my cheek, when I heard a voice come from behind a tree, so softly, it actually scared me!

“What is making you smile?”

I gasped, putting my hand on my heart.  “Oh, my prince!  Sorry, you startled me!”  My heart was racing, cheeks red, breathing increased.  He walked over slowly, taking my one hand with a crushed leaf in it.

“What is this?  A leaf?”  I shook my head yes. “Why were you dragging it across your neck?”  He asked, reaching out his hand towards my neck.  Out of instinct, I immediately stepped back, dropped the leaf, and covered my neck.

I just stood there and stared, as his smile, softened.  “Why are you afraid of me, my dove?” 

“I um, I don’t know.  I’m not though, really!” 

“Hm,” he walked closer taking one of my hands into his, gently rubbing it, looking at me straight in the eyes.  “I would never hurt you, you know this, right?”

I started to look back at him and shook my head up and down.  “Yes,” I said quietly.

“Yet, you do not believe your own words.”  I didn’t reply.  I just looked back at him and forced a smile.  “Pure trust is another act of love.  Do you know this?”

I nodded looking at him sheepishly. 

“Yet, you don’t believe it.”  He said softly, moving in closer to my face.  I had no reaction, only stillness as I gazed int his eyes.  He leaned in further and softly kissed me on the lips, just for a second and pulled away.  My heart was racing.  My face felt flush and fuzzy at the same time.  He slowly took me by the hand, and I started walking with him, almost in a trance.  I must have had a small smile on my face, because he looked back at me, smiling back, and softly said, “I love your smile, my dove.  You should wear it more.”

Blushing again, we entered his palace and walked up into one of the many bedrooms.  This one was a smaller one, with a large bed and only two sitting chairs.  The drapes were open to the large outside court, sun pouring in.  He walked me over to the bed and we sat down together.  All of a sudden I felt a smaller pair of hands gently massage my shoulders.  I looked up to see Elaria kneeling on the bed behind me with a kind smile.

I smiled back and looked at Oberyn, who kissed my hand gently.  My face was flush again.  Elaria started to pull my shoulders down to lay on my back and Oberyn shifted my body up so all three of us were fully on the bed.  She kissed the top of my head and moved away, Oberyn still sitting next to me. 

“My dove,” he whispered close in my ear, making me shiver.  “I really want you to feel safe and happy with us.”

“I do, my prince.”  I answered, still almost in a trance.

“Good.”  He leaned in to kiss me on my cheek.  He kissed me on my ear and on my neck and collarbone, and……

“That tickles…” slipped out of my mouth quietly, but he could still hear me.

“I know.”  My eyes got huge in an instant.  I started to try to sit up and Elaria now had a stronger grip on my shoulders, not letting me sit up.  His hands started gently rubbing my sides, and a small gasp left my mouth.  I was so doomed.

“What about Elaria?  She helped!”  I said louder, looking up at her beautiful, smiling face.

“Oh, I took care of her myself already.  But for you, I wanted to have a few other people to invite.”  He swung his head over to the door.  “Ladies, if you may.”  Two other women walked in.  I started sweating and took a gulp.

“Please, prince.  I-I…” my voice trailed off as I was trembling.

“I thought you trusted me.  That’s what you said earlier.”  He looked at me with a gleam of sadness in his eyes.

“I-I do, I ju-just…”

“It’s ok, my lovely pet.  We will be gentle.”  Elaria took my wrists and held them firmly, but it didn’t hurt.  “I just want to see you happy.”

As I was about to reply, his large hands were caressing my ribs slowly, and methodically.  One of the girls started tracing lightly her finger along my neck smiling.  I was done for.  I started to shake, and a small giggle pasted through my lips and I started to smile.

“I-I amm happy.”

“No, no.  I want to hear you laugh, my sweet.”  And as he said that he squeezed me sides and I about flew off the bed with a loud gasp, that turned into a laugh, that I really hadn’t heard in years!

“Waaiiittt, wait!”  I was able to get out of my mouth before I threw my head back, twisting away from his hands, going nowhere.

“My prince, I want to give her a foot rub!”  the other girl that was standing at my feet said as she was undoing my sandals.  I started to kick trying to push her away as she laughed.

“No reason for violence.” Elaria said above me still with my wrists in her hand.  “She just wants you to relax.”  Oberyn had stopped and scooted down laying across my legs so they would stop moving.

Oberyn’s hands took one leg and kept it firmly still while the other girl started to “massage” my foot.  “Sto-stoppp!  Nooo no!”

“Aw, she loves her foot rubs as much as you did my prince!”  Elaria said as he turned back to her smiling.

“I know!  And what beautiful, soft feet you have!  And these legs!”  And at that time, he started to squeeze my knees and thighs.  At this point, I was all but screaming to stop, but it was falling on deaf ears.  The one girl that was at the top with Elaria that was tickling my neck stopped and lightly traced her fingers in my armpits.

“Ahhh, ah, hahhahahahahhaaaa!  Puuhleeease!”  I have no idea how long this went on, but before I knew it, my other sandal was off and both feet were getting tickled.  I had no energy, so Oberyn rolled to his side now along me.  Tears were streaking down my face, and I was laughing so hard I about shot off the bed.  I happened to look over at him and he had such a satisfied look, just sitting there watching and listening to me laugh.

“Your laugh is a song to the gods, my love.  It should be heard from around the world and shared.”  Then he sat up.  “That’s enough.  Please leave us.”  The two girls got up and walked out.  Elaria let go of my wrists, and my eyes were tightly shut, my face wet from tears and sweat, my body all spread out.  He put my cheek in his hand, and I instinctively rolled back into it.  “How do you feel?”  He asked, sweetly.

I finally was able to stop breathing so hard.  “Ni-nice.”  I was still smiling.  Elaria lifted my shoulders and helped me to sit up.  I was still trembling. He took my hands in his.

“You can always trust me.”  He kissed my hands again as I shook my head yes. 

“And you can always trust us, my lord.”  Elaria said from behind me, although hers had a little more sarcasm in it.  He looked up with a large smile.

“Yes, it seems so.”  He stood up at this point, looking down at me.  He turned to walk away.

“Wait, Oberyn!”  I called out to him as he was almost to the door. 

“Yes, my dove?”

“You never told us what was bothering you those weeks.”

A grin appeared on his face.  “Well, I guess that just means you’ll have to try again to get me to talk.”  He turned and left the bedroom chambers.  I looked behind me to Elaria, who was sitting back from me now, still smiling.

“He liked it.”  She said to me.  Yes he did.

The end

[clanborn]

neopets feels like something that would have extremely complex and expansive literature lovingly written over the course of years by passionate fans

[reginaphalange2403]

No on-screen man has ever tickled my fancy more than Robb Stark in that scene of him yelling “THEY WERE BOYS” at Rickard Karstark in regards to him murdering two Lannister kids. I was ready to get on my knees right then and there for the king in the north🫡😮‍💨

[avengersfluff02]

Masterlist (add to it later)

MARVEL:

Steve (haven’t seen The First Avenger):

Bucky (same as Steve; haven’t seen FATWS):

Tony (haven’t seen Iron Man 3):

Clint:

Natasha:

Wanda (haven’t seen MOM):

Pietro:

Peter P (haven’t second half of second slo movie and haven’t seen third solo movie, and haven’t seen What If):

Yelena:

Cast:

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STARKID: (add characters and actors later)

Little White Lie:

AVPM (not seen)

Me and My Dick:

AVPS:

Starship:

SPACE tour:

Holy Musical Batman:

Apocalyptour: 1

AVPSY (not seen):

Twisted:

Ani (haven’t seen):

Trail to Oregon:

Firebringer:

The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals:

Starkid Homecoming:

Black Friday:

VHS Christmas Carol:

Nightmare Time 1 (have seen Witch in the Web):

Nightmare Time 2 (have seen Abstinence Camp, and Killer Track):

Jangle Ball Tour:

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Tin Can Brothers:

Flop Stoppers (haven’t seen it):

Spies Are Forever:

Solve it Squad (haven’t seen it):

Wayward Guide for the Untrained Eye (haven’t seen it):

This Could Be on Broadway (haven’t seen it):

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Shipwrecked Comedy

Edgar Allen Poe’s Murder Mystery Dinner Party (haven’t seen it):

The Case of the Gilded Lily (haven’t seen it):

Headless: A Sleepy Hollow Story (saw first episode):

Unsolved Babesteries (haven’t seen it):

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

House of the Dragon (add characters after and cast?)

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Game of Thrones (add characters after and cast) (I have only 3 more episodes of season 8 left...)

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We Are The Tigers (add characters after and cast)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Heathers (movie/musical) (add characters after and cast)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Pretty Little Liars (add characters after and cast) (seen season 1)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Supernatural (been jumping around, but seen most of the series, and saw season 15) (add more characters and the cast later)

Dean:

Sam:

Cas:

Jack:

Gabriel:

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

H2O: Just Add Water (I know all the lore, but have only seen season 1 so far)

Cleo:

Emma:

Rikki:

Bella:

Claire Holt:

Cariba Heine:

Phoebe Tonkin:

Indiana Evans:

Others that you want:

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mako Mermaids (Mako Island of Secrets) (I know all the lore, but am halfway through season 2 (on season 2, episode 9))

Lyla:

Nixie:

Sirena:

Zac:

Ondina:

Mimmi:

Evie:

Weilan:

Rita:

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Vampire Academy (2014 Movie)

Rosemarie "Rose" Hathaway:

Vasilisa "Lissa" Dragomir:

Dimitri Belikov:

Christian Ozera:

Mason Ashford:

Zoey Deutch:

Lucy Fry:

Danila Kozlovsky:

Dominic Sherwood:

Cameron Monaghan:

Sarah Hyland:

(Anyone else you want)

_____________________________________________________________

Vampire Academy (2022 Peacock Series) (I have not watched the series yet)

Rosemarie "Rose" Hathaway:

Vasilisa "Lissa" Dragomir:

Dimitri Belikov:

Christian Ozera:

_____________________________________________________________

Vampire Academy Book Series (2007 - 2010)

Vampire Academy

Rosemarie "Rose" Hathaway:

Vasilisa "Lissa" Dragomir:

Dimitri Belikov:

Christian Ozera:

Mason Ashford:

(anyone else)

Frostbite: (I will start reading Frostbite sometime this week)

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Other TV shows (that you request/I forgot to add)

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Other musicals (that you request/I forgot to add)

[myreygn]

Hello! I'd like to request a tickle story with Bran Stark, Rickon Stark and Tommen Baratheon please~

cubs and pups

summary: Tommen doesn't like Winterfell when he first lays eyes on it but quickly finds himself warming up to the place and its people - especially Lord Stark's youngest sons and so he happily agrees when they invite him to play with them. What could possibly go wrong?

an: goddamn that took me way too long... i'm really sorry @proscrix, i hope you like what i came up with! (also please appreciate the title i'm really proud of it 😭)

wordcount: 3266 holy fu-

¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♫·¯·♪¸¸♩·¯·♬¸¸

There was something very dismal about Winterfell. Tommen couldn't quite put a finger on it but nevertheless, the feeling was there. In the gray of the walls, looming over him in a way that made him feel entrapped, even though he was out in the open; the dull clothes the people, even the Starks wore, designed to keep them warm rather than impress anyone; even in the way the Starks themselves looked at him, a way that made it abundantly clear that they viewed him as a child first and a prince second. Not that he could actually blame them for it, somehow he hadn't realized either that he was supposed to be above them all, but how could he when everyone always looked down on him? 

Well, not everyone. 

Tommen caught the gaze of the youngest Stark child (Rickon, he believed) who was looking up at him in complete awe. He seemed to be younger by a few years and the prince found himself wondering if maybe they could play together later. Did the northerners play the same games they played in King’s Landing? Would Rickon even want to play with him? He carefully smiled at the boy and felt like a weight was lifted off his shoulders when Rickon returned the smile. So far so good.

For now though, there were other things to do. A formal greeting between his father and Lord Stark, then a more informal approach where his father went through all of Lord Stark’s children one after the other and told them how strong and beautiful they were and how they would make great knights and lords and ladies someday. Tommen felt a sting in his chest. If only his father ever told him he was going to be a great knight someday with the same twinkle in his eyes he had when he said it to Brandon. Was that jealousy? 

Tommen examined Brandon with narrow eyes. They were probably around the same age, with the other boy being noticeably taller and leaner, his dark hair gave him a much more adventurous appearance than Tommen with his golden locks could ever hope for. He was beaming with pride after receiving the King’s praise and despite the maybe-jealousy still stinging in his chest, the young prince could not for the life of him find it in him to dislike the other boy. He watched as Rickon looked up at Brandon and they exchanged a smile. Brandon was probably also a way better older brother than Joffrey.

Where was Joffrey anyway? Over there, making googly eyes at Lord Stark’s daughter. Fair enough, Tommen thought to himself, she was a true beauty. Maybe, he then thought, one day he could marry a girl just as beautiful, then he saw his mother whisper something into Joffrey’s ear and instinctively knew that whoever he was going to marry someday, it wasn’t going to be a Sansa Stark. No wonder Joffrey never found the time to be a good brother in between learning how to strut around like a rooster and trying to get under the skirts of beautiful girls. Tommen had no idea what it meant to get under someone’s skirt but his uncle Tyrion had said this one day and his other uncle Jaime had given the dwarf a slap in the back of his head and told him “Not in front of the children”, so Tommen had vowed to himself to never forget this sentence until he could understand what it meant. (Also the rooster part was funny, even though he wouldn’t dare to say that out loud to anyone aside from uncle Tyrion.)

A slight push to his shoulder pulled him out of his thoughts and he looked directly into Myrcella’s slightly concerned eyes. The adults were done with greeting each other and giving compliments to children that weren’t Tommen and the whole group got ready to go inside the castle. He quickly caught up to Myrcella and tried to look for Rickon Stark, but the boy had vanished from his field of vision.

—

Winterfell was much nicer on the inside. Big chimneys and torches on the walls warmed up the great hall and gave it a welcoming feeling. It felt like a place that was a home to someone, not like Casterly Rock which felt more like a place people were forced to visit without any intention of staying longer than absolutely necessary - at least that was how Tommen felt whenever he had to go and see his grandfather Tywin.

Here it was very different though. Even from his place at the table that stood above all the other tables, he felt like a part of the crowd of laughing, drinking and singing northerners. Even stuck between his sister, who was half asleep, and his mother, who was more busy hawk eyeing Sansa Stark than anything, he was having a good time. Well, as good of a time as he could have anyway when everyone around him was getting more and more drunk as the evening dragged on.

He knew that he would be sent to his chambers immediately if he seemed even remotely tired and he didn’t want to leave just yet but at some point he just couldn’t hold the yawns in anymore. Almost immediately, his mother’s gaze was on him - for the first time that night and while that was nice for a change, he dreaded the following words before they even left her mouth: “You should go to bed, it’s quite late.”

Tommen looked around for help, feeling a tad bit hopeful when his gaze met with the understanding eyes of his uncle Jaime. “Oh come on Cersei, it’s a special night. Let the child enjoy it a little longer.”

“It’s way past sundown, Jaime,” his mother responded and something about her tone sent a chill down Tommen’s spine, but his uncle seemed entirely unbothered.

“We’re in the north, it’s always way past sundown.”

“Jaime.”

Silence, then his mother leaned forward to give him a kiss on the forehead. “Sleep well, Tommen.” So his uncle had lost, bummer.

When he left the hall he felt Joffrey’s gloating stare in his back. The door closed behind him, then it was only his and Jaime’s steps walking away from the festivities. And the warmth. It was a lot colder out here.

“Sorry about that, lad. I tried to get you some more time.”

“It’s fine, thank you.” He gave his uncle a small smile and was about to reassure him that he had been getting bored anyway when a giggle somewhere down the corridor distracted him from the conversation. Before Jaime could stop him (maybe he wasn’t even trying) he hurried down the corridor to see where the sound came from. He hadn’t seen Rickon and Brandon all night, maybe they were-

“Hello.”

Startled, Tommen’s feet came to a halt abruptly and he nearly lost his balance. Big, blue eyes looked up at him, widening a little in shock.

“I’m sorry, are you alright?”

“Rickon, what are you- oh.” Brandon Stark bowed his head, gesturing at his little brother to do the same. “Your Highness.”

“You don’t have to do that…” Tommen shuffled his feet nervously - he had never been a huge fan of people bowing their heads or getting on their knees before him, it just didn’t feel right. “What… what are you doing?”

“Oh, we were just playing.” Brandon still seemed a little cautious, as if Tommen were to order his execution if he took one simple misstep. It made his chest tighten; what would it take for Brandon to not be nervous around him anymore? How could he show that he had no intention to boss anyone around or-

“Do you want to join us?”

Rickon really had a talent for interrupting his spiraling thoughts and when Tommen looked at him, he was met with a genuinely hopeful expression - a pleasant counterpart to Brandon’s leeriness.

He was about to tell him that he would love to play with them, then he remembered he wasn’t alone and turned around to his uncle. “May I…?”

The corner of Jaime’s mouth twitched so slightly that Tommen was sure he wouldn’t even have noticed if he hadn’t known the man all his life. “Your mother won’t hear it from me. But I’ll be back in an hour and then you will go to bed immediately.”

“Yes, promise!” Barely able to hide his excitement, he turned back to the Stark boys and quickly followed Rickon into the room when the younger boy grabbed his wrist and pulled him with him. Brandon shut the door, then it was only the three of them.

Tommen examined the room. A bed, covered in furs and blankets, a big chimney with a fire spreading warmth and a thick carpet with wooden figurines lying around. He sat down on the floor between the two brothers. “Brandon and Rickon, right?”

“Yes. You can say Bran though.” 

It had been a pure courtesy, but Tommen was glad he had asked - it made him happy to be allowed to address Bran by a nickname. Friends did that, right? Did that mean they were friends? A smile spread his lips. “Then you can just say Tommen. What were you playing?”

“Well, we were trying to play tournament, but Rickon won’t share the knight figurines!”

“Because these are mine!”

“But how are we gonna play tournament when I have no knights?!”

“Then that means you lose!”

“That’s not how it works!”

Tommen leaned back when Bran suddenly lunged forward and wrestled Rickon into the carpet, then the younger boy squeaked and started to thrash around. “Braaan!”

Tommen narrowed his eyes. Was Bran- “W-wait, what are you doing?! Leave him alone!”

Rickon stopped laughing when Bran took his fingers off his sides and both of them were looking at him with nearly identical grins. “Why? Would you rather get a taste of this yourself?”

Before the prince could react, Rickon cried out “Charge!” and suddenly they were all over him; Bran held one of his arms in a vice grip and dug his fingers into his armpit, meanwhile Rickon relentlessly squeezed his midsection. A reluctant laugh escaped Tommen’s mouth. This was not good… he had to get out of here or else he’d be stuck here all night… maybe uncle Jaime would even walk in on him crying, just like the Septa did back when it happened in King’s Landing, that would be so embarrassing…

He remembered Joffrey quite literally ambushing him in his chambers in the early morning, jumping up on his bed and pinning him down while tickling him everywhere he could reach. The prodding to his hips, the scribbles all over his ribs and tummy, the squeezes to his sides… yes, he remembered it all too well. He remembered that it had been painful rather than ticklish, remembered how he had screamed louder and louder for Joffrey to let go of him and how his brother had seemed to care less and less by the second, how he had begun to cry only for Joffrey to tell him ‘Don’t be a baby, we’re just having fun’.

Fun. Maybe, he had wondered for a while, Joffrey was right. When the Septa had come into the room and Joffrey had explained that they were just having a little tickle fight, she too had said ‘Why are you crying, Prince Tommen? Tickling is supposed to be fun’. Maybe, he had thought, he was the problem, maybe he just didn’t know how to have fun with tickling and that was the reason so it didn’t work, but then again, Joffrey having fun and Tommen getting hurt (or anyone getting hurt, really) weren’t mutually exclusive situations.

Tommen felt his chest tighten and his own laughter began to sound like that of a stranger. He knew this was supposed to be fun, but he didn’t want this. All he had wanted was to have fun with some potential new friends and now he was gonna be stuck here for hours, getting tortured. Maybe Bran was just as horrible of an older brother as Joffrey then. Tears started to clock up his throat. And then, to his great surprise, the tickling… stopped.

“Tommen? Are you alright?”

Rickon gave him a worried look and Tommen hastily sat up, not wanting to seem weak in front of the Stark boys. “I’m fine…”

“Did we overstep?” Bran looked somewhat mortified at the thought of having upset the prince. “We’re sorry, we didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable… we thought it’d be fun.”

Tommen pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around himself. He knew that this would make him look like a little baby, but honestly, it made him feel better right now and for a moment that was the only thing that mattered. “I just don’t understand… how can it be fun if people get hurt?”

The brothers glanced at each other, confused. “Hurt?” Rickon tilted his head to the side as if the situation would become somehow clearer. “What do you mean, hurt? I mean, I guess it could happen… one time Jon kicked Robb in the chest, but I think that was an accident.”

“What Rickon is trying to say,” Bran chipped in from the side when Tommen opened his mouth to ask what tickling and kicking people in the chest had to do with each other, “is that sometimes you can get hurt when you’re tickling someone and play fighting, but tickling isn’t supposed to hurt.”

“It- it isn’t?”

“No, it isn’t! See, it’s fun.” Bran quickly wiggled his fingers into Rickon’s side and the younger boy let out a bright giggle. “Why would it be supposed to hurt?”

“Well, when Joffrey did it-”

“Joffrey?! Prince Joffrey?! What did he do?!”

Tommen knew very well that the majority of the worry in Bran’s expression probably came from the fact that Joffrey was most likely going to marry his sister, but something about it still made him feel safe. As if the Stark brothers would be on his side, unlike Joffrey, unlike the Septa, and so he told them everything. Rickon was the first to speak up.

“But that is so mean! Why would he do that?!”

“Maybe he is just a mean person.” Bran softly caressed his brother’s hair, seemingly in shock. “But that’s really… I mean, the rules to tickling are unspoken, I suppose, but even so one of the rules is to stop immediately if the other person doesn’t want to be tickled…”

Tommen only wrapped his arms around himself and grasped onto his shirt, just to hold onto something. “Joffrey doesn’t know the rules then.”

“But we know the rules!” Rickon seemed determined to raise the spirit. “Maybe you could let us tickle you, we can show you that it’s fun!”

Bran looked at his brother as if he was about to scold him, then his gaze turned towards the prince instead, rather curiously. “Would you… let us do that?”

Tommen considered his options. He could just say No and they wouldn’t do it. They would respect that he didn’t want it to happen. They could just play something else and he’d be able to avoid this experience - or he could say Yes. If they’d accept his No now, they would also accept it later. Tommen had spent countless nights at the table next to his father, listening to him swoon over how honorable and honest of a man Lord Eddard Stark was and if that same Lord Eddard Stark’s sons claimed there were rules to tickling, he was sure they’d follow those rules at all times.

He nodded carefully. “You can do it… but carefully…”

“Of course!” To say that Rickon was beaming would’ve been an understatement, but Tommen couldn’t think of a better word before the younger boy latched onto his sides, squeezing away.

A giggle slipped out of his mouth and he quickly pressed his arms to his sides. He didn’t want it to stop just yet, wanted to see where it would go, but he couldn’t help it, it just really tickled. It didn’t hurt though. Tommen felt the slightest bit of tension fade away.

“Don’t block us out now!” Bran’s eyes glittered as he wiggled his fingers past Tommen’s arms, scratching at his ribs and making the prince squeak. “How are we supposed to tickle you if you cover up all the good spots?” There was a teasing undertone to his voice that would’ve sounded cruel and mean coming from Joffrey but out of Bran’s mouth it sounded… nice. Like they were having fun.

Tommen let out another giggle. He was having fun. “Buhut it tihickles-”

“Yes, that’s the point!” Rickon laughed and moved from his sides to his tummy. Tommen doubled over with a shriek and the younger boy’s eyes lit up. “Bran, I found a gold spot!”

“Good work, Ser Rickon! The defenses are crumbling!”

“AIHEE- Brahahahan!” Tommen squealed, curling in on himself. It was no use trying to protect his torso; Rickon relentlessly prodded and poked at his tummy and Bran’s fingers had wormed their way up into his armpits. It would probably be smart to try and push him off but he couldn’t bring himself to lift his arms - it just tickled too much. All he could do was lie on the carpet and laugh and it was fun.

“Are you alright?” Rickon grinned widely when the prince nodded. “Good!” He wiggled a finger into his belly button. “Then I can try this!”

“Gahahads, Rickohohon! Nahahat theheheere!” Tommen felt tears prick at the corner of his eyes. As much fun as this was- “Ihi cahan’t, I cahahan’t, stahahap! Plehehease!”

Immediately all four hands let go of him and Tommen felt warmth spread in his chest. They stopped. He told them to stop and they did it. So this was why it was supposed to be fun.

Rickon scooted a little closer and tried to catch a glimpse of Tommen’s face. “Are you still alriHIG- hehehehey! Brahahan, nohoho!”

Tommen blinked at the younger boy who was giggling and squirming on the ground, then he looked up at Bran who had his hands buried under Rickon’s arms and grinned back at him. “Do you want to help?”

“Nohoho, dohon’t hehehelp him!”

Tommen hesitated for a moment, then carefully extended his hand to give Rickon’s knee a little scratch when Bran sent an encouraging nod his way. Rickon let out a shriek and tried to pull his leg in but Tommen quickly grabbed his ankle to hold it still. He was getting used to this.

“You know you deserve this, Rickon!” Bran did his best to sound threatening but he couldn’t hide his joking undertone. “That’s what you get when you don’t share your toys!”

“Buhut thehese ahahare mihINEEK! ALRIHIHIGHT I GIHIVE! I GIHIHIVE!”

Tommen watched in fascination as Bran took his fingers off Rickon’s neck and briefly wondered how many times they must have done this for Bran to have such good knowledge on how to get Rickon to give up immediately. He caught himself smiling at the sight of Rickon lunging at Bran with a battle cry and starting to squeeze his sides, drawing an uncharacteristic cackle out of his older brother.

“Come on Tommen, help me! He needs a taste of his own medicine!”

Tommen took Bran’s wrists to pull them up, grinning down at him when he was met with a squeal of betrayal. How he could’ve ever thought about Winterfell as a dismal place was beyond him.

[adarkandmagicalforest]

i think ser davos the onion knight is kinda

daddy?

crabaddy

[angelatmidnight1]

Requests Open

For the time being, I'm reopening requests. I know I haven't posted anything in a while, but that's more so from a lack of time and not a lack of ideas. I unfortunately won't have time for tickletober this year, but I hope to wrap up what I do have by the end of the year.

Here's the list of fandoms I'm in for reference.

Thanks and take care ☕

[goquokka00]

The Little Things (Bangchan Ver.)

The small things he does every day that make you feel oh, so special.

Bangchan | Minho | Changbin | Hyunjin Jisung | Felix | Seungmin | Jeongin

| Keeps You in His Lap |

I firmly believe that this man would 100% want you in his lap. Whether it's when you both are watching TV in the living room, you're both hanging out with the guys, or even when you come to visit him in the studio. It literally doesn't matter. Bangchan's lap is your throne, and he wants you to sit in it.

I feel like it doesn't even matter how you're sitting in his lap, too. His favorite is when you're facing him, your legs straddling his waist. That way, he can hold you close, and you can cling to him. But he doesn't mind your back against his chest, either. And you bet your ass his arms are always around you.

It doesn't matter if his hands are on your back or your waist, he just wants to hold you. Bonus points are when he rubs the areas you're feeling insecure about while you're in his lap, too. Don't like your stomach? He's gently rubbing it. Hate your thighs? This man is caressing them while massaging the muscle.

| Nuzzling into Your Neck |

I feel like he does this literally any time he's close to you. He does it when you're on his lap, when you both hug each other, when you're in bed and cuddling each other close. There's just something about the way you smell, and the way you cradle his head every time he does it. The crook of your neck is his safe space.

Bangchan does it a lot on the regular, however, I feel he does it a lot more when he's stressed or feeling overwhelmed. He won't voice his concerns; he'll just hide in you. He'll use your scent to calm down and will always go to his safe space that you're able to provide to him easily.

On top of that, he'll hold you close to him, refusing to let go of you until he's certain he feels better. He won't respond that much, knowing that it'll probably tickle. It's usually hums, grunts, "mhm"'s and "mm-mm"'s. You can definitely talk to him, though. It'll only add to the relaxation this man will experience while de-stressing.

| KISSES |

Guys, when I say this man is so sweet he'll give you cavities, I mean it. Any chance he gets, Bangchan will kiss you anywhere and everywhere. Your face, your shoulder, your neck, your lips, your head. You name it, he's kissed it. He kisses you good morning, then he kisses you goodbye whenever you or him leave the house, and then he'll kiss you hello when you see each other again, and then kiss you goodnight.

Whenever you're feeling down in the dumps or crying, Bangchan is immediately kissing those tears away, and then layering kiss after kiss on your forehead and cheeks. If you cramp really bad on your period, he's on his knees, kissing your belly to try and distract you from the pain.

Oh, and if you're insecure about any part of your body? Bangchan's lips are immediately there. It's kind of similar to how he'll rub the insecurities away while you're on his lap. If you're really struggling with the insecurity and the rubs aren't helping, then damn it, the kisses will. And he won't stop until you understand that every part of you is absolutely gorgeous.

| Compliments, Compliments, Compliments |

Bangchan loves complimenting you. I think he's made it his mission to compliment you as much as possible on literally anything he thinks you should be complimented on. Your clothes, your cooking, your video game skills, you just sitting on the couch with a bag of chips and stuffing your face while watching Bluey.

"Wow babe, you look absolutely stunning right now." "You're so cute, you know that?" "I absolutely love that beautiful brain of yours, baby." It's compliment after compliment after compliment. And if you're like him, where he gets shy after receiving one. Then he coos and teases you about it. Because you do the exact same thing to him.

"Aw, you getting shy?" "Look at you, baby! You're just the cutest--no, don't hide, baby..." "Oh, look at those red cheeks!" It's literally endless. But you both wouldn't have it any other way. It's just what you both do to each other.

| Pulls You In |

Okay, okay, okay, hear me out on this one. I feel like Bangchan will always, and I mean ALWAYS, pull you in by your waist for literally anything. Kisses, hugs, just needing you to be near him. He'll always swing and arm around your waist and pull you to him.

Bangchan will always use one hand when he does it, too. The other one is always kind of doing something else. If you're in front of him and he's pulling you in for a kiss, his other hand is on your cheek. If he's pulling you to his side, then he'll rest the other hand on your shoulder while kissing the side of your head.

And it's always by the waist. Nothing else. It's just something about how your entire body kind of stumbles into his, and you have to catch yourself on Bangchan in order to not fall. He finds it absolutely adorable. What's even more adorable is how you'll whine and tell him not to do that because you could, in fact, end up falling. But he'll only laugh in response, and then proceed to kiss, nuzzle, or hug your worries away.

A/N:: Oh my god I never realized that I haven't updated in a while you guys, and so I'm firstly sorry about that. But I do have a few things in the works, and so I'll be getting those out to you guys! I hope you enjoyed reading the beginning of The Little Things! Don't forget to like, reblog, or comment to let me know how I'm doing with writing and ideas and stuff. Love you guys, get some good sleep, eat something if you haven't, and stay in good health! ❤️❤️❤️

[amazingmsme]

One Last Laugh

AN: AAAAAH MY FIRST GOT FIC! I seriously had a blast with this one, Jon Snow deserves to be goofy & playful with his friends & Tormund just likes to be a fun lil menace. The angst really came outta left field with this one, but it’s still very cute & sweet! Hope y’all enjoy day 10!

Jon Snow couldn't possibly be more stressed. He knew they were severely unprepared for what was to come. They didn't have nearly enough men or weapons to defeat the nightwalkers, and he could sense the weight hanging on everyone's shoulders. The look in their eyes told him all he needed to know: every one of them was expecting to die. They'd look at their friends, not knowing which of them would go first. He would catch Sansa staring at him as though he were already gone.

He paced along the wall, grateful to be home, yet unable to truly appreciate the comfort. His mind was a swirling blizzard, clouding out all other thoughts until a voice spoke up from behind, rescuing him from his dark thoughts.

"There's a spider on ya."

Jon rolled his eyes at Tormund's failed attempt to scare him. He humored him and looked down at his clothes.

"Where? I don't see it."

He really didn't like the smile on his face...

"Right here!" Tormund yelled, suddenly reaching up to spider his fingers on the back of his neck. Jon made a strangled sound and whipped around to face him, staring at him with a bewildered expression and a spreading blush.

"The hell was that for?" he growled, rubbing the back of his neck.

"There was a spider, I'm tellin' ya!" he insisted with a playful smirk. "There it is!" he pointed before diving in to scribble against his side. He jerked away with a choked off laugh, leveling him with a harsh stare. Jon was thankful for the thick layers, but even that offered little protection.

"Fuckin' stop!" he snapped, snatching the offending hand by the wrist. He immediately regretted taking his anger out on him and let go, looking away. Tormund was different. He was crass, playful, and extremely bold, but above all else, he wanted to be entertained. He didn't hold it against him, but he had to admit it could grate on the nerves. He closed his eyes and inhaled sharply through his nose in an effort to calm down. "Sorry, didn't mean to yell."

Tormund was grinning from ear to ear. "I fuckin' knew it," he said breathlessly before barking out a hearty laugh. "I knew it! You're ticklish!"

"I'm also very busy," he warned, making sure to keep a safe distance between them.

"With what? Standin' around staring at fuckin' trees? You looked downright miserable," he pointed out, stalking closer. Jon's pride refused to let him back away, and he stood a little taller, squaring his shoulders. If he took so much as one step backwards, Tormund wouldn't let him live it down.

"I was just thinking."

"Miserable thoughts, I'm sure."

Okay, that was a good one, Jon had to admit. He ducked his head with a shy smile, allowing a short chuckle to slip out. Tormund grinned wider and pointed a wagging finger at him.

"Aaah, I was right! So tell me Jon Snow, why do you like being so miserable?" he asked, closing the distance and slinging a heavy arm around Jon's shoulder.

"I don't," he balked at him, brows furrowed and body tense where he stood. Tormund sighed.

"Coulda fooled me," he shrugged.

"And I suppose you're happy right now?" Jon countered.

"I'm trying to be," Tormund huffed. He waited a beat, striking when he thought Jon's guard was down. He managed to dig his hand under his arm, drawing out a shocked peal of laughter.

"T-Tohohormund, stohop! Wehehe don't hahave time for thihihis!" Jon hated how quickly he crumbled, but he'd never been able to hold out for very long.

"Don't wanna laugh one last time before the end of the world?" he asked, adding his other hand to the fray.

Well duh, what kind of a question was that?

"Try telling aha johohoke!"

"None of you crows think I'm funny!" Tormund growled playfully, digging his fingers under his arms, fighting against the layers of clothing. "This is easier. And much more fun, don't you agree Snow?"

"Y-you're ahahacting like a chihild!" he half heartedly scolded.

"Oh yeah, because it's such a crime to have fun," he taunted.

Jon managed to twist around, snatching Tormund's wrists with both hands and pushing him away. His hair was tussled and he sported a faint blush, and for once, a genuine smile.

"You're bloody ridiculous, you know that?" he panted, trying to catch his breath.

"I've been told," he bragged in response. "And you're too scared to tickle a wildling," he challenged, yanking a hand free to shove his chest. His words were taunting, but his eyes looked... expectant? Hopeful? Like Ghost when he was begging for scraps.

Jon arched a brow, looking his friend up and down. "What?" he asked in disbelief, a sly smirk tugging at his lips. No way was he actually asking to get tickled. Then again, it was Tormund, and he was unpredictable like that. He's done crazier things. "Wait do you... want me to tickle you?" He just needed some clarification, and he's learned that it's best to be blunt with the free folk.

"Come on Snow, you act like you've never heard of a tickle fight," he teased, barking out a laugh as he bumped their shoulders together roughly.

"You call that a tickle fight?" he scoffed, unable to hold back a smile of disbelief. He remembered back when they were all just kids, how rowdy and rambunctious their playful spats could get. How one by one, they were all dragged into the fray no matter how hard you tried to avoid it. He had always tried to avoid it, unless of course, he had started it. But he normally didn't acted alone. If he struck first, Robb was almost always at his side, instigating and encouraging him every step of the way. Until he inevitably decided to turn on him and help one of their younger siblings. He knew what a real tickle fight was. "That's just tickling."

Tormund almost looked offended. "Because you didn't fuckin' fight back!"

"I didn't know we were playing this game," he hummed, stalking around him like a wolf.

He followed his movements with a skeptical eye, turning around to keep Jon in his sights. "Oho this ain't no game."

"You're right. It's more of a sport." He lunged forward, giving him no time for a counter attack before he swiped his feet out from under him. Tormund landed on his back with the air knocked out of him, still struggling for the upper hand, but that fucking crow was always quicker than he gave him credit for.

He grappled with Jon's hands, a determined look settled on his face despite his growing smile.

"That's more like it," he growled. Tormund grabbed his wrists, shoving them back, but he used his leverage to twist free. He flashed him a proud grin, "Remember, you asked for this." The bastard had the audacity to fuckin' wink at him. Ohoho, he was so in for it.

But Tormund didn't get very far in his retaliation before carefree laughter echoed off the stone walls, loud and unabashed. He threw his head back, writhing and kicking on the ground. One of his flailing arms managed to latch onto Jon's knee, squeezing like his life depended on it. It sure felt like it did.

Jon's leg jerked beneath the touch as he snorted out a laugh, ducking his head. Encouraged, Tormund's other hand shot down to grab his other knee.

"Noho, don't!" Jon barked out, drilling circles under his arms. Tormund yelled out a colorful string of curses, severely diminished by the surprisingly high pitched cackles that escaped him. He scratched blunt nails over Jon's kneecaps, and a choked off squeal filled the air. Jon wobbled on his perch as deep chuckles slowly morphed to frantic giggles. He snorted and fumbled to grab Tormund's hand, falling to the side.

As soon as he was freed, he rolled over to pin Jon to the ground. He put up a hell of a fight, and Tormund gave up on grappling with his hands. What was the point of a tickle fight if he couldn't fight back?

Not that he'd make it easy for him.

He scribbled his fingers over his belly, digging in at random to make his laughter turn to cackles.

Jon threw his head back, allowing himself a second to just let go and enjoy this fun, goofy moment with a good friend. He closed his eyes, and he was a child again, rolling on the floor between his siblings with a forced, yet still completely genuine smile on his face. He was chasing Arya and Rickon through the winding halls, wiggling his fingers and yelling threats. So many memories flooded back. Revenge for the perfect prank, cheering him up when he felt like an outcast, attacking him just for the sake of it...

It had all seemed so mundane back then, and dare he say, stupid at times. But he never realized how cherished those memories actually were to him until he came to The Wall, until he lost half his family. Never again would he see Rickon's sweet smile with shining dimples, or hear Robb's deep, boisterous laugh. He almost envied it.

Robb was loud and unashamed in everything he did, and he never bothered to try masking his laughter. Jon was the complete opposite, quiet and reserved at all times. All of his siblings liked to poke fun at it, begging him to let loose, and he always would brush them off. Even when giggling helplessly, his voice remained a fairly even tone. Only now does he realize all that annoyance and playful torment had been out of love. All they ever wanted for him was to feel free, and happy, and... loved.

He didn't appreciate it the way he should've back then. He wasn't about to do the same now.

Tormund would never say it, not in a million years, but he was scared. He could see it in the way he paced like a caged animal. He was nervous and twitchy, and he spent most of his time following Jon around aimlessly. But the most telling part were his eyes. It's always the eyes.

He was scared, and he needed a friend. He needed a laugh. To throw all his cares and worries away, if only for a moment.

He finally mustered up the strength to reach up and grab his hips, squeezing relentlessly. Tormond swore as he lost his balance and came crashing down on top of Jon. He wheezed as the air was knocked out of him, but he continued with his mission.

The wildling shrieked when fingers spidered their way over his ribs before diving beneath his arms. He snorted, which opened the floodgates for booming hysterics. Jon's smile was tinged with sadness.

Nothing was certain. They weren't guaranteed tomorrow, so they would make good use of the air in their lungs while they were still breathing.

One last laugh at the end of the world... Yeah. He could give him that.

[kumkaniudaku]

Stay A While (BONUS)

Summary: A peak into the future.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC

Word Count: 1,865

Warnings: None. Fun fluff!

A/N: Sorry, y'all. I had some more left in the tank.

Chapters: One. Two. Three. Four. Five.

As a bright sun began to set over the Fayetteville horizon to transform the bright cerulean sky to one glowing with orange and purple hues, 22 young men huddled at the 50-yard line of Francis High School’s freshly lined football field. The wind lightly blew around them for a welcomed cool breeze while they ran through yet another play before their first playoff game of the season. 

“Defense, we in man coverage. Offense, run a Go. We need to tighten up this late-game execution. How you gon’ react under pressure? Show me somethin’ boys!” 

While the head coach rattled off instructions to the team, Terry stood nearby with his arms folded and eyes intently focused on the two wide receivers occupying the field. Cam and CT Wilson were tall and lean twin boys who reminded him of how he looked by senior year except they were sophomores with room to grow. He told them on day one that they were physical specimens with unreal speed and high IQ made for a few semesters at Clemson if they could focus through the head-spinning four years that made up their high school experience. He promised their father that he’d be there to guide them through it all save for a few months during Spring practices.

“Cam, you goin’ inside on this one. You remember the count,” he hollered out from the sideline. 

“Locked in!” 

Terry answered with a thumbs up and adjusted his stance for optimal comfort. The child-sized weight on his shoulders was starting to get heavy but he knew the tongue-lashing that awaited him if he dared to make a false move. 

“He goes too slow. Make him count fast so he won’t drop, Daddy.” 

The small voice from above made him look up for confirmation to find her already looking down at him with a scrunched nose and missing teeth that resembled her mother when she was that age. 

“You sure?” 

“Just watch.” 

Together, they watched the play unfold. Terry counted along in his head to time when the ball should leave the quarterback’s hand in comparison to where Cameron should’ve been on the field. Sure enough, he was a step slow causing the quarterback to throw the ball slightly ahead of him for a bobbled pass. 

“Hm,” he grunted more to himself than anyone else. “I’ll be damned. Aye, Cam, come here for a second!” 

Above him, perched on her throne, Nyla Naomi Richmond rested a smart tablet on her father’s head to watch film from the previous game like she always did. Her mahogany skin was shiny under the bright white LED lights illuminating the field from her mother’s overzealous lotioning before they left home. Per her request, Terry had braided half of her hair back to give way to a collection of moisturized zigzag coils for first-grade picture day. Glasses rested at the tip of her nose with a bright yellow strap to keep them attached to her face. She kept her attention focused on the tablet’s screen, even as Cam jogged toward her and her father on the sideline. 

“Yeah, Coach? I do something wrong.” 

“Too slow,” Nyla answered without looking up. “Speed up. You’re like a turtle out there. We gotta win, man!” 

Terry and Cameron chuckled together as Terry tapped the top of Cam’s helmet. 

“A little quicker on the count, man. If you get there when you’re supposed to, that’s a catch all day. Make ‘em beat you. Don’t beat yourself.” 

“Type shit. I got you, Coach.” 

“Hey! Don’t say bad words.” 

“My fault, Coach Ny. Can I do my pushups later?” 

“Yeah yeah yeah.” 

Cam laughed at her dismissal before accepting a fist bump from Terry and rejoining the field. Terry couldn’t contain his smile as he reached up to tickle his firstborn's sides for that high-pitched giggle he loved so much. 

“Be nice, MiMi. Remember the rule?” He craned his neck to look up at her for the lesson he’d been struggling to get through her head since she began joining practice. 

She sighed dramatically and frowned. “Be hard on the work, not the person. I know, I know.” 

“Be better next time, champ. We’re here to help, not hurt.” 

“Yes sir.” 

“Yes sir,” he repeated to mock her childish grumble. “You’re so mean like your mama. Gimme a kiss.” 

Like she always did, Nyla lifted her daddy’s cap to kiss the crown of his head before placing the hat backward atop her own head. 

From the day she first showed herself in a routine sonogram, Terry knew she’d be a firecracker. She refused to show her face to him and Patrice. She carefully concealed her features during an expensive 3D scan and almost hid her gender had they not caught her during an in-utero nap. 

She came into the world kicking and screaming at a long 24 inches and a head clean as a whistle just like her pops. With Patrice, she was the perfect baby. She slept all night, cooed and babbled when spoken to, and grew into a little girl who loved to cuddle into her mommy while they watched Pixar movies on the weekends. With Terry, she was a hell-raiser. Loud and rambunctious with a love for NFL games on Sunday afternoons and playful wrestling on the living room rug. 

Their smart girl had her hand in everything imaginable and, when they’d listen to other parents complain about the difficulty of raising young ones during playdates and birthday parties, they always came away feeling like they’d lucked out with Nyla. 

Across the way, Patrice stepped onto the newly refinished running track with the cheerleading team for warm-ups. Under her school t-shirt, her belly protruded enough to tell anyone looking hard enough that she was expecting. Behind her, she pulled a cooler meant to supply the football team with cold water and snacks for the next day. 

“Mrs. Richmond, you want me to help you? You always be actin’ like you Superwoman or somethin’.” her captain called out from behind her, jogging to catch up with Patrice’s long stride. 

Patrice waved her off. “Nuh-uh. Y’all start stretching. I need to drop this off personally.” 

“Uh-huh. You going to your little boyfriend. Being fast!” 

“I learned from you, Z.” 

“Not you in my business!” 

Patrice’s loud laughter created an echo in the stadium, becoming a bat signal for Terry and Nyla’s attention. 

“Hey, Mommy!” 

Nyla rushed to hop off Terry’s shoulders like he was a jungle gym, unconcerned with any harm she inflicted with her long legs as she shimmied down his body. He winced in pain until she was safely on the ground before lightly trotting behind her to greet his wife. 

Seven years of marriage hadn’t changed much of their love. They’d navigated the growing pains of newlywed life and parenthood to come out stronger on the other side. So much stronger that they’d neglected to follow through on contraceptives to keep their family of three from growing to a family of four. Their parents called a second pregnancy a blessing. And though they mostly felt the same, they also knew that baby number two was the result of too much booze and ignoring the cycle tracker during a kid-free night in Charlotte. 

Patrice braced herself for impact once Nyla got closer and wrapped her body around her legs. 

“Hey, baby,” she greeted, rubbing circles at the center of her back. “You look so pretty. Did you finish your homework?” 

“Mhm! I got 100 on my math test, too!” 

“Alriiight! That’s my smart bestie. Now you gotta pick a place for dinner this weekend.” 

“Can we get piz-”

“A place that is not buffet pizza again. Pick something else.” Terry interjected, making Nyla groan. Dad’s word was final whether she liked it or not. His eyes flickered to Patrice’s still for extra confirmation. Mom’s word was final final. 

She offered a small smile while zhushing the back of Nyla’s hair. “Try something new, Naomi. Maybe chicken tenders this time?” 

Nyla accepted her parents’ redirection with another dramatic sigh that made Terry and Patrice stifle laughter. 

“I know, mama. It’s so hard being six years old. We can write a book about it tonight when we get home so you can help your little sister or brother when they get here.” 

“I hope it’s a girl. Boys are boring.”

Neither of them could muster a response before Nyla abandoned them to supervise the cheerleaders as they started to run through cheers. 

They waited in silence until she was out of earshot to face each other with equally broad smiles. 

Terry spoke up first as he reached down to take the cooler’s handle from Patrice’s hand. 

“Didn’t I tell you from the jump she’d be a second you?” 

“Oh no, she’s a second DeeDee. She might have my mom’s middle name but she is your mama through and through.”

“Touché.” Terry chuckled. That’s why the duo got along so well. They were twin flames in more ways than one. 

A lull in the conversation made Patrice subconsciously bring her hand up to her stomach for a soft rub. Terry looked on with a fond smile, proud of the way her wedding ring reflected the light back into the night sky like a star on the ground. 

He pushed the cooler to the side and grabbed her free hand to pull her into a side hug. He kissed her temple several times over, making Patrice giggle like a schoolgirl at the sensation. 

“We make a cute kid, don’t we?” 

Patrice hummed and closed her eyes for a brief second to feel the full press of his chest on her body and his arms squeezing a little tighter than before. “So cute. She talks too much, but that’s okay.” 

“Wonder where she gets that from?” 

“Her damn daddy.” 

The vibration from Terry’s deep baritone encased in laughter tingled against Patrice’s arm to cover her in warmth from head to toe. A whistle and call of his name from the field snapped both of them from their semi-private moment, making them reluctantly pull away. 

Terry leaned down to kiss the corner of her lips as a parting gift before slyly sneaking the tip of his tongue into her mouth. She playfully pushed him to save them from the embarrassment of taking it too far in public. 

“C’mon, MiMi, we not done yet.” Patrice watched Nylah quickly ditch her squad to meet her daddy’s outstretched arms for him to place her back on his shoulders and rejoin the team. He called back over his shoulder for her attention. “I love you, baby! Go get off your feet!” 

“Sit down, Mommy!” 

“Yeah, sit down, Mrs. Richmond!” 

Patrice wore a semi-serious scowl on her face and threw her hands up to stop the barrage of demands. 

“Woah, woah, woah! I am grown,” she hollered back to everyone in the area. She began the slow journey toward her team and clapped her hands. “Just for that, let me see that Hot To Go routine. If you mess up, you owe me a lap.” 

A collection of teenage girl groans made Patrice crack a smile.

Maybe Terry was right.

---

TAGS: @planetblaque @wvsspoppin @thatone-girly @avoidthings @slutsareteacherstoo @eilujion @amyhennessyhouse @yaachtynoboat711 @jenlovey @pinkpantheris @blowmymbackout @onherereading @hrlzy @becauseimswagman1 @thiccc-c @urfavblackbimbo @blackburnbook @ashanti-notthesinger @xo-goldengirl

[chalterdh22]

How Do You Get a Prince to Talk?

I really wanted to write a lighter fanfic about Oberyn, but it was super hard, since his character is mostly 18+ themes! So, I gave it a shot. Enjoy!!!

Summary:  Our favorite Prince of Dorne, Oberyn Martell, has been acting a little distant, and off putting as of late.  Ellaria, a few of his girls and you have not only noticed but decided to get him to talk.  How do you get a prince to talk though?

Warnings: Tickling, so if you’re not into that, move on.  Nothing mature related, but several times were everyone knows what is being discussed.  So hard to write.  F/M dom.  FFFF ler and M lee.  Discussions about his inner circle of lovers, obviously.  Enjoy!

Oberyn Martell…. What can I say about the Prince of Dorne?  I joined Ellaria and him about a year ago, working for them as a servant.  I have been treated like royalty, which was a far better cry than how I was treated with my prior family.  He had a large circle of friends, family and of course, his lovers.  I knew of his reputation when they hired me on, but after having a long conversation with Ellaria and my past, where I was abused by multiple men, they kept me on as strictly a servant girl.

Not to say that I wasn’t present for any of their escapades.  On multiple occasions I had to bring in refreshments and food.  And on multiple occasions, Oberyn asked me to stay, but never pushed.  I would smile politely and decline, and he would say something like the offer will always stand, my dove.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t attracted to him.  He was confident, striking, funny, but lately, he was starting to annoy the girls.  After their private time, I would spend time cleaning up and bringing the girls, and sometimes boys of course, anything they needed.  Normally they asked for more food or drinks, clothing, etc. 

And then they would lay around chatting.  The conversations were usually pretty interesting, mostly about people they each knew or had been with, places they had been and horrible things they had witnessed.  I enjoyed listening as I was finishing up. 

Lately though, the conversations had been mostly about Oberyn and how obnoxious he had been.  He had not been relaxed like his normal self, not attentive, quick and not his sensitive self.  They were complaining about being rushed with him and when he would finish up, he would leave quick and without any sentiment.  This was not like them, they kept saying.

One of them overheard him tell Ellaria that he was getting bored with the monotony of life and wanted to start traveling again.  If he had told them that, they would have understood.  But no, he would complain.

Then his moodiness started affecting Ellaria.  She didn’t want him to be like this!  This wasn’t the man she loved unconditionally.  She wanted to snap him out of his funk but didn’t know how to do this since nothing really phased him. 

One day, she asked me to sit with her at one of their many windows overlooking the beautiful sea.  I just sat there admiring all the beauty around me.  She didn’t say anything at first, and finally let out a huge sigh.

“My beauty, I don’t know what to do with Oberyn.  There are moments I want to just hold him and let him give me all his stress…”  She held out a long pause, looking outside again.  “And there are times when I want to smash his head in!” 

I giggled at that thought.  “Ma’am, I had no idea you felt this way.  I’m so sorry.  Have you tried talking to him about this?”

She nodded.  “I have and when we talk, it doesn’t last very long.”  He just shrugs me off and says not to dwell on nonsense…….. so, what’s he doing???”  She was almost shouting.

“You know, sometimes we do things without even realizing it.  So, maybe you can take that approach,” and before I could even continue, she cut me off and stood up.

“I’ve been patient!  Now, I just want….” She had a small grin on her face and started ringing her hands together.  “I just want to teach him a lesson….. but I’m not sure how.”  She started pacing and had a finger up to her mouth.  You could tell she was really trying to think of how to do this.  “I don’t want to physically hurt him, although he does like that time to time.”

As she was pacing, the man of the hour moved through the doors, bursting them open with a grand entrance.  “My beauties…” he stated in a quieter voice. 

“My love, is everything alright?”  She went over to him and moved in for a deep, iconic kiss, and he kissed her on the cheek!  I instantly saw her face redden.  She grabbed his arm strongly, turning him around to face her.

“Love, what is going on?  You’re not acting like yourself!”  He stared at her, as if trying to think of an answer.  He put his hand up to her cheek softly.

“There has been a lot on my mind lately, my beauty.”

“Like what?”

“Nothing to bother you with.”  He turned around in a circle and that was it.  He waved me over to help him remove his overcoat and hang it up.  When removing it, he flinched towards his side.

“My prince, are you ok?”  He reached down to his side. 

“I’m fine, love.  I backed into a sharp corner earlier.”

“Can I see it, to see if you need something on it?”

“That would be nice.”  I glanced up at Ellaria, who was staring hard at him right now.

His bronze skin seemed to shine, and I saw a teeny, tiny speck of where he pointed.  I must have had a smirk on my face because he asked why I was smiling.  And since I’m a horrible liar, and I sometimes do not have a filter, I whispered, “Is this it?”  I looked up quickly and Ellaria and the same smile.

I then proceeded to touch it lightly and he flinched again.  So, I lightly traced my finger from that spot to his bottom rib and got a much larger reaction, but not one of pain.  A gasp escaped his lips and a small grin appeared on his face, which he covered up quickly.  He covered his side immediately and walked away from me towards the door.

“Are you sure you’re ok, my prince?”  I called over to him as he exited the room, nodding.

Turning over to Ellaria, with a large smile on my face as well as hers, “My lady, did you see his reaction?  I think your prince is ticklish!”  She stood there nodding.  “Did you know that?” 

“No, I, didn’t.  Normally our touches turn more sensual…”  She started pacing around the room again.  “But this gives me an idea.  It won’t hurt him, and it will certainly take control away and….”  she paused again now with her eyes as wide as silver coins.  “Oh, this will work.”

I smiled and started walking away, towards the door, to leave her to her thoughts.  “Wait!”  She yelled towards me.  “I can’t do this alone!  I need your help with planning!  And I’m not very good and haven’t been around, you know, tickling very much!  Have you any experience?”

I felt like I was being questioned for a brand-new position in the royal family.  “Well, I do have three older brothers, so, yes, they would like to torture me from time to time.”  I was recalling the fun I had with them when I was young, before I was taken.

“Great!  This will be fun!”  She seemed giddy almost and it made me laugh.  “We will need to recruit a few more people.

“Yes, the more the merrier.”  We sat down and started developing a plan.

A few days later, we decided that wine would help him relax more, so I brought out a few bottles for Ellaria, Oberyn and two of his other female lovers.  We wanted to toast him and basically build him up so he would forget his troubles.  After some food, and a lot of wine, I started walking over to him and sealed the deal.

Whispering in his ear, and lightly messaging his neck, I said, “My prince, I have been thinking, I would like to be a part of your social gathering tonight.”  I looked right at Ellaria, who was sipping her wine and smirking at me, nodding her head slightly.  The other two female attendants had the same look.  They had been told about the plan earlier and were really excited.

Oberyn’s eyes looked up at me, and a smile had formed.  “My dove, you have made my year.”  He started to lean in to kiss me, and I kissed his neck saying let’s save it for later. 

He stood up quickly, clapped his hands together.  “Later is now, my loves!  Shall we?”  He took my hand and led me to his room.  All five of use gathered and closed the door. 

“My love,” Ellaria, announced, “since this is her first time with us, might I suggest we ask her what she wants?”

“My dove, what a wonderful idea.”  He swooped over to kiss her hand and turn to me.  “Well, what do you want to experience tonight?”

I looked around and acted sheepish.  “Well, my prince, I’m not as experienced as you are, but one thing that has always peaked my interest……” I paused for dramatic effect, “is to have a strong, beautiful prince like yourself, be completely at my mercy.”  I slowly started walking over to him.  “Is that something we can arrange?”

“My dove, your wish is my command.”  Ellaria swooped behind him, gracefully.  She opened a drawer and pulled out 4 long silk scarves.  She weaved them between her fingers and walked back over to Oberyn.

“Love, it sounds like you are going to be completely at her mercy.”  She leaned in to kiss him and he returned it with his hands running through her hair.  He started to undress, and one of the other girls chimed in. 

“My prince, keep some of your robes on.  It’ll give us something to unwrap.”  She came over to him and allowed him to take off his long robe only and his shirt, leaving his chest open.  He left his pants and sandals on. 

He was grinning ear to ear, as we all were, but for very different reasons.  He started crawling up to the top of the bed.  All four of us had a scarf in our hands now, on all four corners of his large, four posted bed.  As Ellaria tied his right arm to the post, she whispered and said to him she had one more thing.

He grinned over at her as she walked back with one more scarf.  She started covering his eyes and tying it around the back of his head, kissing his forehead, as the rest of us finished tying his limbs.  My heart was racing.  I was so excited for Ellaria, and she now that he couldn’t see our faces, had a face of pure joy, excitement and hint a devilish glare in her eyes.

The other two women had the same exact looks, which I’m sure I did the same.  Ellaria sat next to his side, her fingers tracing his chest lightly.  “My love, before we begin, can you tell us what’s been troubling you so the past few weeks?”  He seemed to shift uncomfortable and cleared his throat.

“Ellaria, my dear, can’t we talk about this later?  I have a guest waiting to play…”

I chimed in, “Actually, my prince, I have been worried about you as well.  Please tell us what’s wrong.  We all care for you.”

He was now very still, and his hands were clenched into fists.  “My lovelies, I’m starting to get a bit impatient.” 

“As were we, my beauty.”  Ellaria said now, sitting up more, with her had setting on his chest, which was moving up and down more rapidly at this point.  “We have been worried about you and you have been extremely short with us.  Very uncharacteristic of you, my love.” 

At this point, he was squirming.  “Maybe we should do this another day?  I may have had a bit too much wine at dinner.”

“No, we will discuss this now.  And if you won’t, we will make you.”  One of the girls said, stroking his leg.

This actually peaked his interest.  “And how would you propose you make me?”  His small smile formed again.

This was my cue to step in, as Ellaria smiled and stepped back as I moved forward.  “My prince, if you won’t tell us on your own accord, we have ways to make you.”  I now straddled him, and my fingers lightly traced his abdomen.  He squirmed and a small smile was forming again.  “You see, the other day when I was checking your wound, I noticed you were a little sensitive in an area.”  As I said, this my hand went to the same side, and I started tracing my fingers there.

“Mymymmy love, what are yooyoyou doooing?”  he asked, chuckling slightly, barely being able to get the question out.

“Well, I noticed that you are a little soft here, and maybe we can find out where else, unless you tell us what’s been bothering you.”  I stopped my hands moving on his side, as a stern expression appeared, almost he was putting all these pieces together in his head.

Ellaria couldn’t help but let out a chuckle.  She has always seen her prince getting the upper hand in the past, but never have the tables been turned.  She was enjoying herself.  Oberyn must have heard her chuckle because nothing else was making a sound in the room.  I could tell he wanted to say something but was physically forcing himself to keep quiet.  Ellaria finally couldn’t take the silence any longer, so she swooped in, and her head was right next to his. 

“Love,” she whispered, “I’m going to enjoy myself immensely.”  Her fingers started lightly along his rib cage where his arms were spread apart, like he was being stretched.  As she did this, a huge smile appeared on his face, and he started giggling.  She continued this as he tried to squirm away, still very lightly.  She wanted to give him an opportunity to talk, but I could tell she was secretly hoping he wouldn’t.  He kept letting out these small gasps of air and clearing his throat, trying not to laugh.

Another one of the girls stepped in on his other side.  “My lady, please forgive me but I do not think you are doing this right.”  His head whipped over to the other side, and she dug her nails into his exposed ribs.  And that did it!  He started laughing hard.  He was whipping his head back and forth and arching his back, trying to escape her fingers. 

“Waaaaiiitttt!  Waaaiiiit!”  He was trying to move his body from side to side, with no avail. 

“Yes, my prince?”  she asked without stopping.  “Do you have something to tell us?”  They both stopped tickling him at this point.  The sad part of this was, he looked exhausted, and they hadn’t even really begun yet.

The second girl stepped in.  I was still straddling his hips, enjoying my little show.  She said, “I don’t think he has anything to tell us yet.”  Before he could reply, as he was still catching his breath, she started stroking his inner thigh and his muscles flexed under me.  “This looks promising.”  She said with an evil intent. 

At the same time, she started to grab his thighs, my hands went to his hips and we both started squeezing at the same time.  “Noooooononononooo noooooooo!”  His back arched aain, lifting his hips and me off the bed slightly.  “Waaaaiiaaiatttt, waaaait, puuuh leeeeeasse!  Nooooo nooooono!”  In between his pleading was a beautiful laugh that was almost song like.  I thought I could listen to him forever, although that might kill him.

“Aw, he said please, my lady.”  I said as I stopped.  “Do you think he meant it?”  I looked right at her.  Nope, she wasn’t done yet.

Ellaria had turned and had a sixth scarf, like she was pulling them out of thin air.  “No, no.  I don’t think he is.  In fact, I think all his talking is tiring him out, so let’s help him with that ladies.”  He was breathing hard.  She leaned in to his head as he was saying please, over, and over to her, calling her every sweet thing he could muster up.  She reached around his head again and tied a thicker scarf in his mouth, around the back of head.  He immediately realized his pleas were going to fall on deaf ears.

He was shaking his head no, back, and forth.  “Shhhh, my love.  Save your strength.  We have so much more of your body to explore.”

He let out a long, low groan, and not one like I’ve heard coming from his mouth before.  He knew he was doomed.  “Ladies,” Ellaria had said after securing his mouth, “Let us rearrange, so we may each have different areas to play with.” 

I got off his hips, and one of the girls took my place.  Ellaria and I each stood by one of his legs and the fourth girl stood at his side.  This girl politely asked, “My lady, should we each take turns, so we may appreciate each part separately?”  Again, he was violently shaking his head no, making angry groaning sounds.

“I don’t know if I’ve ever seen our prince, the Red Viper himself, behave like this.  And yes, let us each take turns…… to start.  I would like to go first.”  Ellaria reached down to his thigh, and I thought that’s where she would start, but her small hand migrated down his leg slowly, to his sandaled foot, where he kept kicking as much as he could.  She slowly removed his sandal, and he started jerking drastically.  He was trying to break through is restraints, and for a minute, I thought he would and kill us all!

“My love,” she said sweetly, “You must not exert all your energy.  Come now.”  Her fingers started scraping the bottom of his foot as he was thrashing, not able to see or speak.  He was violently shaking his head, pleading for her to stop, which she did not.  I started to remove his other sandal and scratched under his toes as they curled around my fingers.  Ellaria grabbed his ankle now firmly with all her strength to keep his leg still and started scrapping his arch, which made him laugh extremely loudly.  “I think I found another special spot.  Remind me to never give you foot rubs again.  I might be too tempted to do this!  The other two girls sighed.

“My lady, it isn’t fair for you to have all the fun.  Let us join you now. We want to play too.”  If you didn’t know what was happening, you would think they were all just talking about playing an instrument, or a game.  But no. 

Ellaria sighed and nodded her head in agreement.  And all at once, both his feet were being maliciously tortured, his hips had hands on each of them, and his poor ribs were being massaged meticulously.  He was screaming, and I saw maybe a combination of tears and sweat dropping down his chin.

For a split second, I felt bad for him.  We “played” with him for about 5 minutes, but to him, it probably felt like an hour.  Constantly poking, prodding, massaging his body in a way he wasn’t used to.  “My lady, maybe we should let him rest.  It seems he has a hard time breathing.”  Ellaria nodded in agreement, and just like that, all four of us stopped.

He was breathing so hard you would have thought he sprinted a mile or so.  “Please remove the scarf from his mouth and let him get a good breath in, will you sweet?”

The girl that played with his ribs gently pulled the scarf out of his mouth, so it draped across his neck.  If possible, he was breathing even harder now.  We just sat there letting him catch his breath, and his sanity.

All of a sudden, words started to form between the heavy breathing and the small shudders of laughs that were still escaping his lips, trembling.  “Pppuleeeease, please, nooono more.”  He spoke quietly, as it took all his energy to muster up those three words.

“But my prince, you were smiling ear to ear and laughing.  We thought you liked this,” said the woman sitting on his hips.  She was lightly tracing her fingers along his abdomen, which made him jolt and shiver.

“No,noooono.  I ththiinnk I’m reedeady to talk, my lovvves.”  Just as quietly spoken as before. “Just please, nono more tickckcling…”  He was barely able to get that out of his mouth.  Ellaria now walked back to his head and removed the scarf from his eyes.  He had them closed but was trying to open them.  They were tear streaked, red and swollen.  I’m sure he has never had anything like this happen to him, good or bad.  He had absolutely no control.

“Oberyn, at this point, we want you to know we love you and if there’s anything we can do for you to help you get back to your normal, loving self, that’s what we want.  The past few weeks have been troubling for us.  Because something has been troubling you.”  Ellaria spoke calmly, with her face a few inches from his, that still barely could see and still looked straight up.

“Plus, you have said you wanted us to take control sometimes…..well, that’s what we did, my Prince.”  One of the girls explained.  He started shaking his head no, and the smile on his face started to disappear.

“That’s not what I meant, and you that.  Now, untie me.”  He started to get more firm in his speech, which made me a bit worried.  I didn’t want anyone to get in trouble, or worse.  Ellaria must have seen the expression on my face. 

“Ladies, please exit the chambers.”  The two got up and I followed suit, until her hand reached out, grabbed my arm to stay.  Not you.  You may stay.”

My heart was racing.  Is she going to accuse me for all this?  How mad would he be.  I was looking over at her with worry and concern on my face.  She smiled softly at me.  “Will you please untie his legs, my sweet?”

I shook my head yes and started to untie them as quickly as I could, while she did his wrists.  When I was done, he sat up slowly, eyes wide open, no smile on his face.  I stepped back from the bed about 6 feet, out of reach from anyone or anything.  Ellaria stood by his side.  He took his pointer finger and moved it, signaling me to come towards him.

I’m so dead, I thought!  He knows Ellaria wouldn’t do this!  I walked and stood right at the foot of the bed again.

“So, which one of you lovelies’ idea was this, and don’t lie to me.”  I quickly looked at Ellaria, with panic in my face.  I started to open my mouth to speak, but she spoke first.

“My love, it was both of our ideas.  No one more than another.  We wanted to see you happy again and were really worried about you lately.”  He put an arm around her waist, pulling her in closely, still staring right at me.

“Well, it, it worked, right?  You were smiling!”  I said, trying to keep in light.

“Come here.”  I walked over to his side next to Ellaria slowly, with my head lowered.  This is how I die.  The Red Viper will pull a blade from nowhere with poison on it, and I’m done.  I must have been shaking visibly.  “Why are you shaking, my love?  Do you feel bad for what you did to me?”

I just nodded my head yes really quickly, too quickly.    He let go of Ellaria’s hand and now reached for mine.  I started shaking more. 

“You have nothing to fear from me.”  He swung his legs off the bed and stood up next to me, looking down at my short from.  I kept my head down still.  He took his hand, lifted my chin up to him and leaned in.  I thought he was going to kiss me for a second, but he leaned towards the side of my head and whispered in my ear, “Next time though, it’s your turn.” 

My eyes got huge.  He was smiling from ear to ear, and I felt my soul leave my body.  I’m right, he will eventually kill me!  And we never even found out what was bothering him!!!

To be continued…….???

Fin

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Take It Slow

A sequel to Take a Seat

Warnings: allusions to mafia/crime, intimidation, suggestions of verbal and mental abuse, toxicity.

This might just be a drabble, but I'd appreciate a reblog and some feedback! You are loved and appreciated. ❤️❤️❤️❤️

You sit in a haze. You try not to twitch at the prodding beneath you, the obvious delight of your keeper. Thor’s arm wraps around your middle as he holds you in place, making himself your seat, your throne as he proclaimed boldly to Travis’ face. He won’t forgive you for this one, you’ve humiliated him.

Yet, you can hardly worry about that. You can only wonder how this night will end. Will this brute of a man laugh and let you go? It must all be a joke, similar to a hazing, he is testing his man, that’s all. So you will face the consequences of his ploy.

You wiggle uncomfortably as you keep your head down. It’s humiliating how he continues to beckon men to his table, chatting as if your aren’t even there, his arm hooked firmly around you to keep you from escape. He way his hand runs up and down your side, at times venturing down your thigh. You shift again and he groans.

“This one is getting impatient,” Thor chuckles as he brings his hand up the front of your dress and tickles your throat, “as am I. Leave us,” he commands away another man in black, “I think this night over.”

The man leaves and Thor pulls his hand away to snap in the air. Another approaches, the black-haired one Travis told you was the boss’s brother. You stare at the table.

“Brother, clear this place out,” he says, “and see if you can’t find Mallory.”

The slender man takes his order but not without a grumble. He struts away and Thor turns back to kiss your crown, growling as he inhales the scent of your hair, bowing to press his lips to your shoulder. You assume he will hand you back to Travis now so you can spend the night in his wrath.

“What a prize I’ve claimed this night,” Thor rumbles and turns you in his lap, “I see you are tired, kitten, so let me find you a bed.”

He scoops you up in his arms and you squeak in surprise as he stands. He is much taller than you expect. You glance around and he chuckles, bending his knees as he angles you towards the table. You take his intent and reach for your clutch.

“I... what about Travis--”

“Say his name one more time, kitten, and I will have be certain to make him nothing more than a memory,” he girds and fire crawls up your body. His tone is dangerous and his strength is obvious in his easy hold on you. “Forget your old life, sweetheart, I will give you a new one. A better one.”

Your lips part and you close them. You’re too afraid to ask why? Why you? Is this still a game? He can’t mean a life, maybe only a night.

“He doesn’t deserve you and you deserve much better,” Thor purrs as he carries you across the room.

“I...” you murmur into nothing. This cannot be real. 

You fall into silence. Not so much accepting as terrified. A man this big, this powerful, is not to be defied. You are in his territory. Travis was right, he shouldn’t have brought you here.

Thor carries you across the lobby of the hotel and angles to hit the elevator button. He stands and waits as you stare at the golden doors. They part and he steps on, turning as he keeps you steady in his arms.

“Top floor, sweetheart,” he says.

You hesitate before you reach out and hit the button. It lights up at your touch and the doors close. You shiver as you rescind your arm against your chest.

“Cold?” He wonders coyly, “I’ll be happy to warm you up, kitten.”

You dip your chin down, horrified by his suggestion. He is not an unattractive man, he is tall, blonde, and well-defined. Any woman, yourself would swoon over him, and yet the situation has you locked in terror.

“Why are you so afraid?” He asks as he nuzzles your hairline, “have I been unkind so far?”

You shake your head, the edges of your vision glossy with the threat of tears.

“So why cower and hide away? I mean only to worship you, kitten.”

You inhaled and clasp onto your purse tightly, stilling the tremble in your, “I... I don’t know.”

“Was he such a man that you would laugh at the idea of me? The way he spoke to you, the way he dragged you around as nothing more than an accessory, I saw no man,” the elevator dings and he steps off, “I saw lesser than you should have.” He stride breezily down the hall to the corner suite, “I will be your king.”

He stops before the door and his chest puffs out, “the door key is in my jacket, would you mind?”

You stare at his collar then let go of your clutch. You slip your hand beneath his blazer and feel the firm muscle beneath his satin shirt, the top button open. You twist around to feel the inside pocket and slip the card free with two fingers. You retract and reach for the door. He lowers you so you can slide the card through.

The censor flashes green and he moves you closer. You turn the handle without prompt and he carries you within. He kicks the door shut with his heel and the snap of it makes you flinch. He marches around the suite, and airy front room with a full bar and sofas, opening onto a high balcony with lights. 

He turns through a doorway to the bedroom and takes you to the bed. You brace yourself for the drop, closing your eyes and tensing. How many times had Travis tossed you back so you bit your tongue?

He lays you on the mattress gently and slips his arms out from under you. You slowly open your eyes and look up at him. You sit up as he takes your clutch and sets it on the glass console table near the wall. He rolls his shoulders and groans, slipping free of his jacket.

“What do you expect, my queen? That I should throw you around like a ragdoll? I should mistreat you as that worm must’ve? I feel how you steel yourself. How you wait for me to hurt you,” he faces you as he drapes his jacket over the velvet chair paired with the sleek desk, “it is not my intent to offer anything but delight.”

He comes to stand at the foot of the bed, “you are tense, you could use a hot bath. And in those shoes,” he peers down at your strappy heels, “you must be aching for it.”

You are put off by his suggestion, more innocent than he means. You glance down and tuck your feet back so your skirt hides them. You shrug and rub your naked arm, “I...”

“Kitten, you do not need permission. You say it and I will make it so,” he brings his hand up under your chin, “come, let us wash away this night.”

He squeezes your jaw and you stand. You wave as you’re trapped in his allure. Your eyes cling to his oceanic blue irises, sinking into them as his hand drifts down your neck. His other tickles along your stomach and to your shoulder. He slips the straps of your dress down your arms and guides the fabric down your figure. You quiver at the brush of his rough fingertips. 

He reaches around you smoothly to unhook your strapless bra. It falls away as you gasp. His eyes follow it to the floor and he lowers himself to one knee, then the other. He brings his hand around your heel and unclasps the buckle of your shoe. He wiggles your foot free and you stand flat, then he removes the other heel and tosses them aside.

He puts his head straight and leans forward, kissing the front of your panties as he looks up at you. You gape down at him as your body tingles. Another wave flows over you, guilt; betrayal. What would Travis think?

He frames your hips and rolls your panties down your legs. You don’t stop him. His touch grazes your legs and you step out of the dainty fabric. He takes your hand as he gets back to his feet. He tugs on your arm as he turns and guides you away from the bed. Your skin speckles with goosebumps as you enter a spacious bathroom with a square hot tub in the corner.

He leads you to the tub and lets you go. He bends to flip up the faucet and turns it to adjust the temperature. You watch his back as his shoulders stretch the satin tautly. He rises and faces you as he plucks at the buttons.

You stare dumbly at him as he undresses. His muscles are thick but defined, his fingers move lithely, his jaw sets as his eyes blaze back at you. He drops his shirt then bends to pull off his shoes. He undresses, piece by piece, never looking away. 

As he pushes down the elastic of his briefs, he has no shame. He is wanting. You try not to look as he smirks and reaches for you. He takes you by the wrist and steers you toward the tub. Without a word, he urges you in ahead of him. He climbs over the side and puts your back to him, lowering you both into the basin. 

He leans you against his hard torso and his hands rove and wander over yours, tickling, stroking, cupping as a tremor rolls through you. He purrs and twitches against your back. His hands never stop moving, eager to explore, eager for more.

[littlejuicebox]

Naughty or Nice?

Pairing: Ascended Astarion x F!Reader/Tav Summary/Setting: The first winter post-BG3 / You became Astarion's consort and you're at a ball... he likes to toy with you. Rating/Warnings: M+ / Smut / Spoilers for the game / Cursing / Improper use of mage hand / BSDM vibes / Dom Astarion vibes / teasing, masturbation, overstimulation, exhibitionism, mentions of flogging, etc. Word Count: 3K Notes: This is 3/5 "Days of Star-mas!"

Click here to see my master list.

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Yet another holiday ball, how dreadfully boring.

You sigh as you tug on your dress for the millionth time before a sharp pinch on your rear stuns you into stillness. You let out a soft hum as you feel the warm breath of your lover against your ear, tickling your neck before he playfully nips at your ear lobe.

“Now be a good girl and quit fidgeting, my treasure. I want everyone to see how beautiful and desirable you look in that dress, and your hands keep getting in the way of such a delectable view.” Astarion chides, running his fingers down your bare spine, leaving a tingle of excitement in their absence.

You’re sat, as always, on the Vampire Ascendent’s lap; it’s quickly become a well-known peculiarity of your coupling that your ornate throne beside him hardly sees any use. You wriggle as the elf continues to wander his pale fingers up and down your spinal column. Apart from your neck, your back was Astarion’s favorite part of your body to display. Almost every gown he dressed you in nowadays, as his perfect, beautiful little doll, left that sinewy form around your spine well-exposed.

Tonight, he’d dressed you in another one of his custom, ridiculously expensive and more ridiculously provocative pieces, commissioned by one of Baldur’s Gate’s most revered clothiers.

The gown was a deep burgundy, hand draped to your curves and covered in countless glimmering crystals. A deep sweetheart neckline was barely held up by two dainty, useless straps. The back of the gown left your muscled form on full display; the final bits of your lower spine were partially obscured by a crossed set of laces, tied neatly in a bow and not leaving anything to the imagination as the skirt of the dress clung to your hips.

The Vampire Ascendent had called you the “perfect present” for his Midwinter Ball, and you were expected to play the part of his perfect consort as he presented you to several of the Guilds this party hosted.

Astarion’s hand grazes up your leg, fully exposed to him by the thigh high slit cut into the gown. You writhe as your lover teases you, letting out the softest gasp as his hand just barely brushes under the slit of your gown before traveling back down toward your knee.

“My perfect little present,” He murmurs as the music from the band swells, “Take a turnabout the room for me, little love. Let everyone feast their eyes on your beauty and covet what is mine.”

You knew the Vampire Ascendent always aimed to use you as a status symbol at these silly parties. You were quite the spectacle as the renowned hero of Baldur’s Gate turned into his obedient, and always provocatively dressed, consort. It was such a stark change from the heavily armored warrior woman you had been less than a year ago. The statue in the town square, made to your likeness, truly looked nothing like you anymore. You had been a fearsome, rugged, warrior… always caked in dirt and blood; but now, you were a perfect doll, always pristine and well-kept.

You groan, not really wanting to partake in the charade tonight, but Astarion gives you a little tut, and the sharp warning look on his face was enough to force you out into the crowd. The Vampire Lord may have a soft spot for his consort, but he was not above punishing her, if need be.

You slink off your lover’s lap and saunter about the Great Hall, gold chalice in hand, politely nodding here and there to several of the guild members that meet your gaze. More of them, you notice, are too distracted by the high cut of your gown and the spilling of your cleavage to actually meet your eyes. Typical.

Soon enough your pathway is interrupted by the leader of one of the Mercantile Guilds, a tall blonde human woman with an accent, whose name you’ve all but forgotten. You truly had no interest in the elbow rubbing and political chess matches that occurred at these soirées.

“Lady Ancunin… I was hoping for a moment to speak with you.”

The woman begins to ramble on, promoting her Guild, which currently holds control over majority of the sea trade to and from Baldur’s Gate. She is expressing concern over a smaller, but growing, faction and asking for support from the Ancunin House. You find the entire thing unbelievably boring, and barely stifle a yawn.

Suddenly, you hear Astarion’s voice in your ear, and your attention shoots to the high table where the vampire is lounging in his throne, sipping from a chalice, his scarlet eyes locked on you. It’s clear the lady merchant is none the wiser as she babbles on, and you soon realize the Vampire Lord is communicating to you through your blood bond.

“Now, now, little love. Pay attention and look interested. You know as well as I do that Lady Beauchamp prefers to use you as the middle person in our dealings, hoping your supposed “mutual alignment” as the "fairer sex" works in her favor. Perhaps you require a bit more… stimulation to keep you from looking so terribly bored.”

His voice reverberates through your mind, enveloping your psyche in a lover’s caress that quickly causes you to become slick with desire. You watch Astarion subtly snap his fingers at the high table, and shudder as you feel the cold tracings of a finger along your spine — an invisible mage hand, no doubt. Your eyes widen and flicker from Lady Beauchamp and back to your lover, where he is smirking in twisted delight before he turns away from you to laugh at some comment made by another one of the nobles.

The tall guild leader continues, “So, as you can see, Lady Ancunin… this faction is cause for— are you alright?”

You’re trembling as you attempt to hold some level of control over your reactions. How could he toy with you like this? The invisible mage hand has now trailed underneath your gown and started petting your barren slit with two cold, invisible fingers. Damn Astarion for never allowing you to wear undergarments and compelling you to take them off every time you tried to preserve a modicum of your own dignity.

You cough, trying to cover up the gasp that so desperately wanted to escape your throat. “Y-yes Lady Beauchamp, my apologies, it’s a bit cold in here what with the winter air. Please do continue… w-what is it you’re asking of our House?”

Lady Beauchamp’s eyes flicker over your scant, silken gown and you catch a glimpse of judgement in her eyes; you know she thinks you improperly clothed for the season. But she’s wise enough to hold back any comments and instead continues on with her end of the conversation, pleading her case for aid to you.

You are held as a hostage to your own arousal, thighs trembling as you are held on an edge your lover will not allow you jump off of. You wring your hands on the stem of your goblet, nodding at the merchant woman and trying your hardest to feign interest.

Gods you were dripping. You absently wonder if the signs of your arousal were becoming visible through your gown. Your eyes flit back to Astarion, and his gaze is fixed on you once again, a cocky eyebrow raised as he traces the rim of his goblet with one slender finger. You’re silently pleading with the Vampire Ascendent for mercy with your wide eyes and all he does is chuckle and shake his head, eyes crinkling in dark delight.

No. There would be no mercy. You feel the slickness dripping down your thighs as the mage hand plunges into you and you roll your eyes up to the ceiling as you stifle a moan.

“So… what do you think?” Lady Beauchamp asks, her head tilted in confusion. You realized too late that she’d been waiting for your answer, and that the pause in conversation had become uncomfortable enough for her to prompt you.

You nod your head slightly, barely able to breathe as you form the next sentence. The mage hand was back to stroking between your folds, and as you barely catch the scent of your own arousal, you worry that Lady Beauchamp would soon smell you, too. “I-it is much to consider, but I will plead your case to Lord Ancunin. Now I apologize but if you’ll excuse me, my husband has beckoned for me at the high table.”

Astarion has, of course, done no such thing. But you swiftly exit the conversation with the Guild leader and head back towards the Vampire Ascendent.

When you finally make your way back to your lover, he grabs your trembling hand in his own solid, strong one. He possessively tugs you closer to him, and then the Vampire Lord plants a kiss to your knuckle. He smirks mischievously, eyebrow cocking as he flits his hungry eyes to your groin. The mage hand is still continuing its ministrations and has now started to lazily circle your sensitive little nub.

“I can smell you, my treasure… and see your little trembles as you try so hard to be a good girl and keep it together. Absolutely delicious. What a tempting little treat… look at you, with your cheeks all flushed.” He coos, scarlet eyes moving up to look into yours. When you meet his gaze, you see hints of dark, possessive desire in his eyes... and a bit of sadistic pleasure as he witnesses your suffering.

You moan as the mage hand plunges into you once more, and even though the high table is now barren as everyone else has swarmed to the dance floor, you feel the pricked heat of embarrassment spreading across your face.

Astarion chuckles and drops your hand before running his fingers up your exposed thigh. “I think you’ve been a good little pet tonight. And you will soon get your reward. Go to the bedchambers and wait for me... I’ll send the mage hand with you to keep you company, of course.”

All you can do is nod your head, before turning on your heels and swiftly exiting the ballroom. You nearly sprint to your bedchambers, certain now that the evidence of your arousal is seeping onto the gown. As you enter the bedroom, you move to rip your gown off, but the mage hand swats your hands away from the laces. It seemed the Vampire Lord wanted to be the one to unwrap his little present tonight.

For a moment you consider touching yourself, but as soon as the thought crosses your mind, you hear Astarion’s tut of disapproval within your psyche.

“Now, now, little vampling. Be a good girl and wait. Before I’m forced to have the mage hand bring out the flog."

You whine in desperation again and hear that dark chuckle within your mind. The mage hand is continuing its ministrations, now aggressively teasing your nipples as you settle yourself on the bed to wait for your lover. Your entire body is wracked with overwhelming desire, every inch of you trembling as the invisible hand continues its torture.

“How long will I have to wait?” You breathlessly ask to the air, but you know that Astarion is always listening. There is a beat of silence where you think perhaps the Vampire Lord is purposely ignoring you, but then he responds, clearly entertained by your little predicament.

“Oh… not much longer, my treasure. Patience is a virtue. I’ll see you at the end of the party.”

The party wasn’t set to end for another hour. You nearly scream in anguish as another dark chuckle caresses your mind. Pinpricks of frustrated tears begin to form as you wiggle with the mixture of anticipation and overstimulation. Gods you wanted to touch yourself so badly; you were wringing your hands together to avoid the temptation.

“Little love… it is up to you if you’re going to be naughty or nice. But you know what I will be forced to do, should you choose to be naughty.”

You whine again. An hour… you could withstand the torture for an hour, couldn’t you? Surely you could choose to be nice.

And hells, if you chose to be naughty… the pain was always worth the pleasure, in the end.