#his face is a throne and I suddenly feel like making use of my name

[nanamis-bigtie]

he radiates such a whore energy. i wanna peg him.

[lightseoul]

cw. worker!reader, prohero!katsuki, aged-up (25), pining (squint harder y'all), a lot of cussing (wouldn't be a bkg fic w/o 'em), reader has an ex-boyfriend, our boy kiri finally makes an appearance

words. 2.7k (i had to stop my head was aching)

masterlist | part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9

If you were to suddenly rise to fame overnight, for what reason would it be?

The answer you’ve always had for these silly icebreaker questions was simple. That one passion you’ve nurtured as a hobby, perhaps? Or the hidden talent—party trick, really—that your friends always goaded you into demonstrating during get-togethers? Or it could be getting recognized for the work that you do and how much of your soul you put into it.

Really, it could have easily been any of the three.

Which is why you couldn’t have seen this reality hurling straight at you even if it was waving a shining red flag at you from a safe distance.

You adjust the face mask that’s snug against your cheeks for the umpteenth time, vaguely aware of the child seated in front of you who’s also staring like he’s trying to make out who you’re supposed to be under the barrier.

Tamping down the annoyance springing in your gut over a kid occupying a precious chair in this crowded subway train during rush hour, you shift on your feet and tug down with your extra hand the hat that you quickly threw on on your way out this morning.

It was the least you could do after unceremoniously finding out through your best friend at 5:37 AM that you’ve become one of the Internet’s sensational hits overnight, now being dubbed as #2 Pro-hero Bakugou Katsuki’s heavy-handed girlfriend, emphasis on the heavy.

Needless to say, the news sent you into panic and you couldn’t go back to sleep no matter how hard you tried. Your emotions and thoughts went into overdrive, and you found yourself at the crack of dawn mulling over the options you had in front of you.

You knew you were grasping for straws when you started thinking about stealing someone else’s identity and moving far, far away from Japan where the concepts of pro-heroes and the World Wide Web were unbeknownst to the living population.

That pipeline got you nowhere.

Which leads you to the present: decked out in a flimsy disguise, horridly sleep-deprived, anxious as hell, squished between late salarymen and chatty high schoolers in a cramped train carriage, and subject to the increasingly scrutinizing stare of this kid in front of you.

To your relief, you arrive at your station before the child can put two and two together and expose you to the rest of the crowd. You quickly shuffle out and expertly weave yourself through the sea of people, desperate to get out of the public space and into the safety of Ground Riot agency.

Though your imagined bubble of safety is immediately popped the moment you enter the building and feel what has to be dozens of pairs of eyes on you.

You hurriedly scan your employee ID and head for the elevators, heaving a relieved sigh when no one follows you into the space.

It’s barely 8 AM, and you’re already drenched in sweat. You’re in the middle of wondering if you’re already sporting a fucking pit stain when your phone chimes its familiar tune, signifying a text message.

You peek at the notification banner to see Bakugou’s name, alongside a short directive.

(7:51 AM) Bakugou (Dynamight): Conference Room A—be there in 10. PR and the rest want to see both of us.

Fuck.

The room’s not empty by the time you stumble in seven minutes later. Hiramasa Hikari, your direct subordinate in charge of employee relations, is seated on one of the comfy office chairs circling the long, oval table, looking indubitably harrowed as she thumbs through an all-too-familiar booklet.

Wordlessly, you walk towards where she is and plop yourself down on the seat across from her, right on the side of the end-of-the-table throne where Bakugou usually plants his butt during meetings.

You might have moved a little too silently because she startles when she looks up and sees you looking at her like you don’t know what to say.

Because you don’t.

Instead, you flash her an uneasy smile, which she returns right back. Although it morphs into a frown, “I’m guessing we both recognize how comical the situation is right now?”

At that, both of your gazes drift to the said document, conveniently titled ‘Workplace Relationships: Policies and Protocols,’ with your name written underneath as one of the principal authors.

You purse your lips into a tight line, suddenly feeling the tiniest bit of shame spurring in your gut.

You wouldn’t call yourself militant when it comes to carrying out rules and regulations related to your job, but being on the receiving end of a lecture regarding workplace relationships is—for the lack of a better term—humbling.

Even if the whole thing that led you here is fake.

Before you can stutter out an appropriately vague enough response to your colleague, the glass doors open like flood gates and in comes Bakugou in his hero costume, followed by Mikuri (the PR head you’ve talked about during your meltdown), and a group of coworkers who you’ve identified as a portion of the agency’s legal team.

You and Hikari stand up at their arrival, and sure enough, Bakugou pulls out the seat to your right, barely sparing you a glance as he situates himself.

The rest quickly follow suit, the atmosphere so tense you could cut it with a meat cleaver.

Nobody says anything for a while before Hikari clears her throat awkwardly, evidently feeling self-conscious over speaking in front of her higher-ups. “I guess I can start, then?”

You give her an encouraging nod as if you’re not about to be roasted by the very same girl you’ve been training directly since she got recruited two years ago.

Hikari clears her throat again before fixing her firm gaze on you. “It has come to our attention that multiple news articles have been circulating since last night,” she pauses as her eyes dart between you and Bakugou, “about the two of you.”

A pregnant pause.

“…Care to explain?”

You can’t believe it. You’re about to expose yourself and this embarrassing stunt you pulled. And you can’t help the dread that courses through your system at the thought of admitting out loud how you roped in your boss, of all people, to pretend as your date so that you could hide from the ex who dumped you over the phone how much of a loser you are.

How much a loser you’ve become, the present moment in mind.

It couldn’t get any more pitiful than that.

But you have to face the truth, and you realize that time is running out fast as you survey the expectant looks directed at you one by one as if everything’s in slow motion.

Finally, you open your mouth to blurt it out and get it over with, but Bakugou beats you to it.

In fact, he doesn’t miss a beat.

Which is fucking astounding, because what he’s about to say next quite literally causes your jaw to drop.

“We’re dating,” he states, voice even. “There’s your explanation.”

The exact moment he says that outright, blatant lie, it’s like all the air in the conference room gets sucked into a vacuum. You find yourself feeling lightheaded and it takes everything in you not to collapse like a boneless heap on the lawyer beside you. You think Bakugou notices because his eyes shift to look at you, and his eyebrows furrow so minutely as if he’s telepathically saying ‘Get it together.’

And so you do.

You don’t know what the fuck he’s thinking, lying like this to the very people who need to know the truth to effectively clean up the mess you’ve inadvertently made in just one Sunday, but at this point, you know better than to contradict Bakugou’s words.

“We’re dating,” you parrot, voice wobbly, “…yes.”

You will yourself to look up from the clasped hands on your lap, only to immediately regret it. Some of the members of the legal team are staring at either Bakugou and you with straight-up disbelief, while the others toss you a playful wink. Hikari, Mikuri, and Sawamura, the lead lawyer, however, look unsettled at best.

“Since when,” Sawamura starts, although he sort of chokes on his spit. He clears his throat, “—since when has this been happening?”

The pro-hero’s reply is almost instantaneous. “Why the fuck would I tell you that?”

Ignoring Bakugou’s defensive retort, you instead jump in to respond as calmly as you can. “Around two months ago. When we worked late nights on that issue under Hikari’s unit. We, uh—” you chance a glance at Bakugou, who’s looking at you intently, “—we were actually planning to disclose it to HR today, if you can believe that.”

“And you punching the groom at the wedding you attended,” Mikuri suddenly adds, voice pointed. “Was that part of the plan, too?”

At the reminder of your act of sin, you visibly cringe in front of your colleagues. You hear Hikari hold back a snort, and you flush further in embarrassment.

To your surprise, Bakugou speaks up. “That was her dickhead of an ex, and he was being an asshole to her.” He grunts, “She was only defending her name.”

Despite yourself, you can’t help but gawk at the man. The last thing you expected was for him to defend you. And so sincerely, at that. He could be a great actor.

“Well, regardless of the intentions, we have to deal with the act and its resulting consequences,” Sawamura sighs, before turning to face you. “We already briefed Bakugou on the way here but the guy and his family are threatening to sue for damages.”

“S-sue?” you choke out.

Mikuri nods solemnly in response. “I know Bakugou here wants to fight fire with fire by exposing the guy’s character but we believe it’s best to keep things as hush-hush as possible to prevent any more repercussions on his general popularity rating.” She gives you a once-over, “Would that be okay with you?”

You barely manage a nod, although she seemingly finds it more than enough.

“We’ve since been in contact with their lawyer and are on our way to a settlement,” the head lawyer packs on. “We’re scheduled to meet them in,” he checks his sports watch, “two hours.”

“In the meantime,” Mikuri interjects, “we might suggest you stay off your non-essential social media sites as we wait for the issue to die down.”

You nod again, failing to repress a weak laugh at the belated advice. “Don’t worry, I’m already on that.”

“In fact,” you quickly add before anyone else can interrupt you, “So much so that I don’t know what the hell is going on out there. How is Bakugou fairing in the ranks right now?”

Again, you feel the said man eyeing your side profile.

Mikuri cocks her head to the side in reflection, “Surprisingly, he’s holding up okay. We’ve had a marked increase in activity from the adolescent to young adult female demographic especially, but they’re all mixed reviews.”

At that, Bakugou sneers. “What am I, a fucking movie for these extras to rate?”

You snort, and now you see Bakugou side-eye you, although there’s no bite to it.

“Anyway,” Sawamura interjects, “That’s more or less it from us and PR as well, I believe. We’ll keep you both posted.” The man glances at Hikari, “Hiramasa-san, anything else from your department?”

“Oh, yes,” she quickly riffles through her documents before settling on the booklet from earlier and timidly handing it to Bakugou, who accepts it gingerly. “My supervisor here knows the guidebook by heart so you two should be good in keeping yourselves in check.”

Her eyes quickly dart to you as if to watch your reaction before they just as quickly dart back to Bakugou. “But just to reiterate, we strive to keep everything professional here at Ground Riot agency, so that means drawing a clear boundary between your work and personal lives. That also means no inappropriate PDA.”

“Tch.”

You gulp, feeling all sorts of weird all of a sudden. Accidentally demonstrating PDA with Bakugou should be the least of your worries but there’s no denying the pulse of anxiety that resonates at the mention of it.

After you and Bakugou begrudgingly agree to the terms and conditions, the meeting finally gets adjourned and your workmates pile out of the room one by one. You don’t realize how tense your shoulders are until you’re left alone with Bakugou, and you allow yourself one deep exhale.

Your boss, who’s still sporting a sour expression on his face, shifts his attention to you at the sound. You feel yourself shrink in a bit under his penetrating gaze, although you try to straighten your spine soon thereafter.

You take a few steps towards the doorway and peek through the hall for any bystanders. Once sure that you’re most definitely alone, you turn to Bakugou. “You don’t have to do this, you know.”

He’s not looking at you but his eyebrows furrow still, revealing his listening. He doesn’t say anything, though.

You continue. “It’s obviously bothering you that we’re keeping up this charade. Never mind your ranking potentially slipping, what about the stress of having to pretend and hearing people talk? You don’t need that on top of—”

“I don’t give a single fuck what people say about me.”

You knew that, yet you still frown at his tone. “But you give a fuck about being number one.”

At that, Bakugou finally moves to face you. “Look, I hate that I have to say this, but even if I had no dating scandal affecting my popularity rating, good or bad, all this doesn’t make a difference in helping me get past shitty De– Izuku, at least in a way that matters.”

He huffs before looking away to the floor-to-ceiling windows. “That popularity shit’s out of my control and has nothing to do with my abilities. The other metrics are.”

As you gaze at his back, you think about how image is in fact important when it comes to being the ultimate hero—mind drifting back to All Might and how he served as the pinnacle of safety with his powers and impactful symbolism. But then it gravitates to Endeavor and how, despite his far from amiable personality akin to that of Bakugou’s, he earned the people’s trust in his own way as the new #1 upon All Might’s retirement.

“Okay,” you exhale again, “I believe you. Still doesn’t explain why you seem so bothered, though.”

Bakugou immediately whips around to look at you, frustration etched on his pretty features. “Why did that jackass even invite you in the first place?”

That’s what’s bothering him?

You chuckle, although what you’re about to say probably isn’t a laughing matter. “I think it’s because he saw me as a charity case,” you pause, debating whether or not to tell him the embarrassing truth, eventually opting to do so. “He always made me feel like I should thank my lucky stars I scored him, so I wouldn’t be surprised if he thought he was doing me a favor by inviting me to his wedding.”

“…You know you can do better than that dipshit, right?”

You smile despite yourself, “I know… That’s why I’m dating you, right?”

You only meant to lighten the mood after what has been a grueling, impromptu meeting, but you didn’t expect Bakugou to redden in what you think is annoyance at the innocent quip.

You immediately backtrack. “I was just—trying to, uh—’m just joking around…”

Bakugou doesn’t get the chance to potentially snap at you in irritation because Kirishima, Red Riot, waltzes in with a big, toothy grin on his face.

He beams at you then turns to regard his best friend, grin growing even more in size as if that was still possible.

And what he says next confuses the shit out of you and grants him a hard shove from your now fake boyfriend.

“Congrats, Bakubro! Freaking finally!”

tagging. @kitthepurplepotato @chelbyisbord @lovra974 @katsukis1wife @brunnetteiwik @bunnysaursushii @k0z3me @meeeepsworld @asura-rose @dragonscribble @moonz33 @citrustsuki @deadhands69

˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are much appreciated <3 they really do make a difference! have a lovely day~

[scarlet-star-witch]

The shackles of duty

Summary: In the aftermath of Aegon's fall in the Battle of Rook's Rest, Aemond envisions his future as King with his Queen at his side

Reader is Rhaenyra's daughter and in a secret relationship with Aemond

Part 2 to His Sacrifice

WC: 2.2 K

Warnings: Implied smut, possessive Aemond, kinda dark Aemond, but not really, he's more pathetic than anything

~~

Aemond stared at the plumes of smoke that billowed from where his brother and his dragon had fallen. 

His heart still raced with satisfaction, the adrenaline pumping through his veins keeping him in an almost high-like state he never wanted to come down from. His victorious smirk remained as he turned to the woman beside him who stared at the smoke with a conflicted expression. 

“With any luck, Aegon has perished, or at least will in due time.” 

She looked to Aemond, the furrow in her brow deep, betraying her indecision and unease.

She always knew what Aemond was capable of, she knew of the darkness within him, but to see it now, displayed so blatant before her very eyes, shook something within her, something she didn’t know she could feel towards the man she had loved for so long. 

Aemond grabbed her hands, holding them in his tightly as he turned to face her fully. 

“We can go back to King’s Landing. With Aegon’s state, I will be named Regent. I will sit the throne and you will be my Queen.” 

“What?” She breathed out, the only word she’d been able to speak in the past few minutes. 

“Aegon is not long for this world, surely. It won't be long until I become King. No one can deny us anything now. We can marry, you can stay with me by my side, we can rule together.” Aemond spoke with a franticness that was so unlike him, it unsettled her more than the gleam of desire in his eye in that moment. 

“Aemond…”

“We can finally be together.” He reminded her as his hand reached out to grasp her cheek affectionately, the longing he displayed tearing her insides, as if she were being pulled in two radically different directions. 

She watched him for a long moment, savoring the sight of that beautiful face she’d spent the past few years memorizing, every perfect dip and curve that never failed to leave her breathless, and emotion swelled as she realized she’d have to break his heart. 

“I can’t go with you.” She told him, her voice barely above a whisper, as if it would soften the blow, as if saying it quietly would mean it wouldn’t completely destroy him. 

His lip twitched, his smile fading slowly as he took in her words, praying he had misheard her. His grip on her hands tightened, as if he could keep her with him, as if he could forever stop her from leaving his side. 

“But…”

“Aemond, you know I cannot go with you. No one will accept-”

“Fuck what they think! You are mine and the second I sit on that throne I can make it so. No one could stop us.” 

She shook her head and moved to pull away, but he didn’t let her, his hand sturdy in hers, a look of heartbreak on his face as he felt her hesitation. 

“We are at war, Aemond. Our marriage will not solve anything, it won’t miraculously dissolve what is happening in our family, it will only create more chaos.”

“I don’t care.” Aemond spoke through gritted teeth as he stepped towards her, his hands now cradling her face. “I don’t give a shit about this war, you are all I want.”

She sniffled, bowing her head to avoid looking into his eye. It was too painful to see how she was hurting him. 

“Think about what you are asking of me.”

“I am asking you to be with me.”

“You are asking me to abandon my mother!” She yelled. 

His chest ached, the rush he’d been thriving on suddenly turning to despair as he looked at her, realizing he wouldn’t soon have her in his arms as he had hoped. 

“We can fix this.” He spoke with reverence, but it did little to soothe the storm within her. 

“Maybe we could have… but that was before- before Lucerys.” 

Aemond flinched, recoiling as if she had delivered a physical blow. 

“You know my regret for what happened. You know I would have never willingly jeopardize-”

“I know, I know.” She whispered tearfully, her hands moving up to grip at his wrists, feeling his pulse race beneath her touch. 

She remembered the night after learning of her brother’s death as she met Aemond on their Island, how he immediately fell to his knees in forgiveness, how he let her scream and cry and rage at him, how they held each other as they cried, knowing the state of their family had broken beyond repair, ruining what little chance they thought they had to one day be together as they wanted. 

She wiped her tears and with one last gentle caress to his hands, pulled them away from her, taking a step backwards before he could reach out to her once more. 

“I have to go.”

With every step she took away from him, he took a step closer, his face shifting each time she moved, his frown growing deeper and deeper as it abruptly dawned on him that he was about to lose her, yet again.

“Please, don’t do this.” 

“I’m sorry.” She choked out, the sight of him blurring as tears sprang to her eyes. She turned and didn’t look back as she climbed upon Vermithor, ignoring the pit that grew in her stomach, ignoring the voice in the back of her head that screamed at her to stay with him. 

She didn’t dare spare him a look. She knew she’d cave if she did, that she would fall back into his arms and pretend the rest of the world didn’t exist. 

She wiped her tears as she flew, ignoring the pull she felt to her other half as the distance between them grew greater. 

~~

A yell of pure rage escaped him as he flipped the table in his room. He grabbed anything he could get his hands on, throwing any and every object he found across the room, destroying everything in his line of sight. 

His bed was in disarray, the tapestries that lined the walls torn to pieces at his feet, candles knocked to the ground, trinkets shattered into nothing but dust as he raged. 

He only stopped when there was nothing left to ruin. 

His chest heaved with exertion as he let himself slump against his bed, burying his face in his hands as he struggled for breath, forcing himself not to let his tears fall. 

His mind raced with her words, each like a dagger to the heart, each one tearing away a piece of him, leaving him unwhole and untethered to the one thing in the world he cared about. 

Nothing made sense without her. It had only been hours and he was already spiraling. 

Simply picturing her beautiful face caused his chest to ache, as if the dagger of her words had been real, causing him to bleed and fade away until there was nothing left of him. 

He could not let this be the end. 

With a half-formed plan in his mind, he stood with haste and reached for his cloak, ensuring the hood covered his head and stepped out of his room, his steps quick and purposeful. 

He would not let her slip away from him again. 

~~

Her mind was racing, keeping her from her much needed sleep. She couldn’t stop picturing Aemond’s face, the pain she had caused him stirring her own. 

She couldn’t ignore the regret that overtook every inch of her. While she loved her mother and longed to see her as Queen, she couldn’t deny that Aemond had stitched himself within the fabric of her, he was now a part of her she couldn’t ignore. 

She didn’t quite know when it happened, all she knew was that it was too late to go back now, too late to pretend she felt nothing for him. She couldn’t move forward without him. 

She had to see him.

She hissed a curse and tore the covers off, getting to her feet and dressing in her riding leathers quickly, acknowledging the stupidity of her plan, but steadily ignoring it. 

It was easy to sneak out of the castle. She’d been doing it for years now, she could do it with her eyes closed. 

It took little time to get Vermithor in the air and on the course for King’s Landing, her heart in her throat as she flew. She didn’t know what awaited her, what danger she would be placing upon her head, all she knew was that once there, Aemond would never let any harm befall her. 

It was the only assurance she needed to drive forward into enemy territory. 

Suddenly, the bellowing roar of a dragon sounded over the din of the wind. 

She startled and narrowed her eyes, the moon providing light for her to see, but as the hulking figure of the dragon coming before her became clear, she soon realized, her eyes widening as she stared back at Vhagar. 

A breathless laugh escaped her, pure relief overtaking her as she realized Aemond was in the same state she found herself in, unable to settle for their circumstance. 

She pulled at the reins, directing Vermithor to descend, heading towards their Island with Aemond following seconds behind. 

The two mighty dragons landed and their riders met each other's gaze, the both of them taking a moment to simply admire each other, their shared smiles of equal relief and awe that they had had the same thought, the same longing to see each other. 

Her hands almost shook with anticipation as she untied herself from the saddle. 

She felt nervous, as if it were their first meeting in secret, as she approached him, but her reservations didn’t last as Aemond stepped towards her quickly, with no hesitation.

A shaking breath escaped her as she was pulled into his arms. 

“I’m sorry.” She whispered weakly, her voice strained as her throat tightened, overwhelmed to be back in his loving arms. 

He shook his head and held to her tighter, softly whispering his relief to see her again

Time was lost to them as they embraced, as they held each other as only lovers could. 

“I don’t know what will happen next.” She mumbled, hating to break the moment with their reality, but it wasn’t something they could ignore for much longer. 

“I don’t either.” He admitted quietly. “But what I do know is that, whatever I do, it will not be without you. I don’t care how many times I will have to chase you down and bring you back to me, I won’t lose you.” 

“You won’t have to chase me. I’m not going anywhere.” 

His exhale of relief was loud and she barely had time to apologize again before he was kissing her firmly, leaving them both breathless and lightheaded with desire. 

His touch was desperate as he laid her down in the dewey grass. It was familiar to them, these fleeting and frantic touches all they could spare in the war that ravaged their families. 

He took her with an intensity as if it had been years since he’d felt her touch and not mere days as it had been. She felt more loved than ever before as he lavished his praise onto her, as his lips caressed every inch of her, as he made love to her with the burning passion as only a man in love could. 

Their cries of pleasure echoed on the desolate Island, their secret remaining shrouded in darkness and isolation. 

As he spilled his seed within her, his call of her name sending shivers down the length of her body, she held him tightly, wishing she could hold onto him forever, wishing she didn’t have to leave his side time and time again. 

He wasn’t quick to part from her, laying over her, his hands still eager to touch her, to remember the curves of her body in fear that it would be the last time. 

But they would never let it be the last, not as long as they still breathed life. 

He left her side with a promise to see her the next night. 

There was no mention of the throne, of titles or battles. It didn’t exist in their time together, the both of them determined to blissfully ignore the reality that was slowly crushing them, slowly pulling them further and further apart, no matter how hard they tried to fight it. 

~~

He lingered in her mind as she woke alone but sated, the phantom bliss of his touch, bringing a smile to her lips in the early morning. She could still feel the warmth between her thighs, feel the pleasurable burn of the marks he had left on her body. 

She smiled politely as her maid entered, placing breakfast down for her. 

“Is there anything else I can get for you, Princess?” 

Moon tea.

The words were on the tip of her tongue. She trusted her handmaiden, she’d never given her a sideways glance over the past years when she requested the drink. Her mother was still blissfully unaware, which meant her maid was at least keeping her secret. 

Yet the words didn’t come, a decision made in a fraction of a second. 

“No, thank you. That is all.” 

As her maid left, her hand drifted to her stomach, a smile forming on her lips as she wondered what their child would look like. 

~~

Hope you enjoyed! I have more Aemond content coming! I literally have a thousand ideas for this beautiful man, so stay tuned xx

[vhagarys]

Storm’s End

rhaenyra x reader

summary: your father was set on marrying one of his daughters to the one eyed prince. but, to your knowledge, vhagar was green, not gold..

warnings: none ? enjoy :)

As one of Lord Baratheon’s daughters, you stood in the foyer awaiting the prince regent Aemond Targaryen.

Adorned with a simple black dress, you paired with your favorite necklace with fine little rubies scattered across it. Your dark brown hair hung loosely around your face, curls framing your soft features.

Screams of confusion and terror tore through the thick silence, you watched in horror as the guards outside bolted from their posts.

Vhagar was a fearsome, intimidating creature. That much you’d gathered from the rare sightings of her high in the clouds.

But Vhagar was green, not gold.

Suddenly, a golden dragon descended from the skies, landing outside the throne room. A fearsome woman with long silver tresses and a fitted black riding jacket mounted the sizeable creature.

Queen Rhaenyra, in all of her glory, dismounted from her dragon and stalked through the now foyer, eyeing you and your sisters before fixing her gaze on your father on the other side of the room.

“Vhagar is dead,” she said bluntly, continuing her slow, menacing approach to the steps of the throne.

Your father’s nostrils flared.

“Impossible, he-”

“The prince, along with his dragon, have been slain,” she reached into her pocket and unceremoniously tossed the gem towards his feet, clanging against the stone floor.

A sapphire.

Lord Baratheon’s breath hitched, the severity of such events cracked through his stern, unwavering demeanor.

Rhaenyra allowed him only a moment to process before she returned her gaze to the group of girls lined up before her.

You could feel your sisters trembling in fear, not daring to lift their gaze and meet the soon-to-be queen’s piercing violet eyes.

Yet, you couldn’t seem to deny yourself the sight of such beauty, such power bestowed before you.

Soon, your eyes met. Her intense scrutiny stripped you bare, exposed, and goose prickles traveled up your arms as a cool breeze blew against you.

The ghost of a smirk danced across her features.

“I shall take on of yours to wed, Lord Baratheon. Such a union would be advantageous for you, would it not?” Not even granting him her full attention, the pair of you seemed transfixed on one another.

He coughed, “Your Grac- pardon, my Queen. I am without any male heirs I’m afraid. I’m sure we can-”

The queen sauntered closer to you, until you could make out the lingering scent of dragon and ash upon her.

You couldn’t put into words the inexplicable pull you felt towards the striking women. Such thoughts you’d never possessed for another woman, let alone anyone for that matter.

Gently, she lifted a finger to delicately tuck a lock of your curly, brown locks behind your ear.

“What is your name, my dear,” she whispered, mapping out all the lines and crevices you carried on your face.

Time froze as you felt the heat of her body so close to yours, tension palpable as you reveled in her attention.

Subtlety, you leaned into her touch. Closing your eyes a tad too long, you answered,

“Y/N, my Queen,” her features momentarily shifted to one of surprise, clearly not used to hearing such title.

You took this moment to drink in the sight of her plush, pink lips. The slight curve of her nose, the sculpture of her cheekbones, and the baby silver tresses that likely escaped her braids while flying.

Breathtaking.

Her features glowed as a smile graced her lips.

“If she will allow it, I should like to become better acquainted with your daughter Y/N, my Lord.”

Her eyebrows quirked up as if in question, awaiting your response.

You felt your cheeks blossom into a shade of pink, never had you imagined such events to unfold on this day.

The Queen, asking to court you, of all people.

Not waiting for your father’s reply, you bowed lightly.

“I am honored your grace. It would most please me to meet your acquaintance,” a warm, tingling feeling spread like wildlife up through your core as her eyes shone with both delight and something deeper.

Alluring, dangerous even.

Your father’s mouth was agape as she extended her arm to you which you wrapped yours around in kind.

Your heart beat out of your chest as you turned away from the life you’d always known, always wishing to venture beyond the confines of Storms End.

Ahead of you awaited her dragon Syrax. Assessing you with the same sparkle in her companions eyes, the dragon grunted at you and lowered its body.

Rhaenyra stood behind you patiently, letting you and her dragon familiarize yourself with one another.

She watched curiously as fear and wonder and excitement danced across your features. Never did she expect you to reach your arm out and caress her dragons snout.

You already had begun surprising her.

At last, she lightly traced her finger up your arm, breaking your trance as your nerves slowly started to calm.

Whispering in your ear, the excitement and the thrill of what was to come bubbled inside you.

“Are you ready, issa byka jelmāzma?”

(My little storm)

authors note: FINALLY A RHAENYRA FIC.. pretty fun writing for her, hope yall enjoy!

[dragonsareverycool]

A Brothers Reunion

The small summoning circle lit up, casting a soft green glow, as two eyes watched it with weary hope.

——————————————————

Two demons argued violently about a soul, and Danny sighed from his spot on the throne that fully claimed him a month ago. While he still found it hilarious how thoroughly this guy managed to swindle so many of the high ranking demons, it had started to cross into annoying territory. Danny was seriously considering making a whole office dedicated specifically to hold all the paperwork one ‘John Constantine’ was seemingly generating with his very presence. Suddenly, Danny felt a soft tug on his core, much gentler then the summoning rituals of all those crazy cultists that keep popping out of nowhere used. More like the circles he gave to Sam Tucker or Jazz. But he could feel the summoner’s emotions, and the poor guy on the other end felt like he was about to cry.

Danny mentally went through everyone he’s given his personal line to. Then, he shot up and called for Fright Knight to send the demons away while Danny quickly allowed himself to be pulled through the summoning circle to where his brother waited anxiously.

——————————————————

The circle flared, and a large eldrich like figure quickly crawled through. Then, a very familiar voice muttered

“Man I wish these things weren’t so dramatic. I already scared the shit out of the justice league because of it” as the being’s form shifted to the more familiar form he took when seeing Damian for the first time in a decade. His white hair looked a little longer now, and his eyes a less toxic green.

“Danyal” Damian said stiffly. Danny looked up, making eye contact with Damian before responding

“Damian” in response Damian lunged, pressing a blade to Danny’s neck before asking a question only Danny could answer.

“What’s the last story you told me?” Danny simply smiled nostalgically,

“There’s the Damian I know. I told you about Canis Minor 16 days before I died the first time.” Damian heasitated before putting away his weapon and paused before he quickly started to hug Danny, who returned the hug.

“… first time?” Damian asked, still in Danny’s arms.

“Mother didn’t tell you what happened to me after, did she?” Danny asked into his twins hair. Damian didn’t even bother to say anything and just turned his head to look at Danny balefully, before Danny sighed and said

“Of course she didn’t. I was dunked into the Lazarus pits, before mother dropped me off in the middle of nowhere America, where she forbade me from ever talking about my old life or ever attempting to contact you.” Damian paused to process this, before saying

“And the second time?” Danny sighed at that, his face set into a grimace. Damian started to move, bringing Danyal over to his bed, where Danny realized Damian had summoned Danny in his room. Damian sat them both onto his bed, and curled further into Danny’s arms, while gesturing to continue.

“I was adopted by a couple who claimed to be ‘ectobiologists’ who already had an older daughter named Jazz. She’s my sister.” Damian nodded solemnly at that, mentally adding ‘Jazz’ to his list of siblings. Danny pulled out his brick of a phone and started showing Damian pictures of his adoptive parents, his sister and everything else as he spoke about it. “They’d been working on a project in their lab since before they adopted me, longer then they’re had Jazz even. When I was fourteen, they finally tried to turn it on. It failed. It was a portal to what they called ‘The Ghost Zone’, but that realm is much more. The Infinite Realms are the glue that holds all universes together, and its a kind of afterlife. They didn’t know half of that, only that some souls of humans who died stay there, and even then, they thought that these ghosts were only a husk of their former selves, and couldn’t feel pain.” Damian started to connect the dots at that and asked

“You’re one of these ghosts?” It was almost a statement, but Damian wasn’t going to make many assumptions. Danny nodded before continuing

“I had two friends who convinced me to show them the failed portal. I walked inside of the portal we assumed was completely defunct, and I tripped over one of the many wires on the floor. When I tried to stabilize myself, I hit the on button.” Damian’s eyes widened, and he froze while Danny paused. After a moment, Danny continued, saying “My adoptive parents had connected the portal to the towns power grid, and the portal opened up on top of me. Electricity and ectoplasm, what ghosts and the Infinite Realms are made of, clashed inside my body, killing me and reviving me repeatedly until the portal finally spit me back out. I only half died that day.” Danny put his phone away and focused on playing with Damian’s hair. Damian reveled in his brothers affectionate touch like when they were small.

“Half?” Damian asks after a minute or two.

“Half. I technically have several ghost forms, and I have a human form” Damian looked up from Danyal’s arms, his eyes asking the obvious question he was a little afraid to ask, though he’d never admit it. Danny smiled at the unasked question, and rings of light formed around him, before dissipating and revealing a very much alive eighteen year old Danyal Nightingale. He grabbed one of Damian’s hands and pressed it against his neck, allowing Damian to revel in feeling his former dead brother’s pulse. Damian tested Danny’s wrist, and put his ear against Danny’s now warm chest.

Damian will deny the appearance of tears to his death, but Danny didn’t say anything, he just held Damian closer. After a while Danyal started to talk about the stars. Filling the silence with quiet but passionate rambling about stars and space. It was familiar. It was safe and warm and then Richard ruined the moment by slamming open Damian’s door yelling about a ‘Family Game Night’ and got a knife for his troubles. Of course he dodged with practiced ease, but then he realized Damian wasn’t alone in his room. Time seemed to freeze at the stand off. Dick had frozen, as the joy on his face seemed to leach away at the realization that there was an intruder.

[jolalibrary]

him. he. joel.

joel miller x f!reader | joel miller masterlist

summary: you don't know his name. he doesn't know yours. yet.

wordcount: 1.5k warnings: PRE OUTBREAK. a suggestion of alcohol as they're in a bar, but never consumed. smut. unprotected sex with a stranger (at first). oral sex (m!receiving + f!receiving). no use of y/n. no age gap is specified (use your imagination, honey). jo spelling too, cause wrote this on my phone read on ao3

Your eyes land on his across the room.

Throat drying at first contact, feet glueing more to the insoles of your shoes as you focus on keeping your back straight—poised, unwilling to crack or bend. 

Especially when he seeks you out over random heads and remains there even when you pretend to look away.

You only see him here occasionally.

No routine, no plan—no arrangement in place, just a chance and encounter. 

As soon as you do, the two of you perform the same dance as the time before, circling and circling until the inevitable collision. 

He doesn’t know your name; you don’t know his.

But, you do know how his cock feels in your throat. You do know the way his stubble feels on the inside of your thighs—and the grunt he makes when he spills inside of you.

Just like how you know the way his lips feel when he’s zipping himself back up, giving you one last parting kiss before he’s through the door of the bathroom, supply closet or exiting out of the back of your car. 

Tonight, it’s another person's birthday. 

Ericsson’s maybe? Or a person called Monty—you’re not sure.

You’re just wondering how long it’ll take before the usual routine comes into play. 

Will he find you outside, head turned away under the twinkling, milky stars and a cloudless sky before he snaps your attention to him? Or, will his fingers, deft and thick, find your wrist—pull you into a dark corner and slant his mouth across yours to smother your gasp? 

Except tonight feels different, something in the air—it is all heavy, layering thick. Some part of you wondering if there are new rules to the game, ones not shared, not handed to you—more so when he breaks away from the rowdy celebrations and leans on the bar next to you. 

“Alone?”

“Aren’t I always?” 

He chews his tongue, the sleeves of his brown t-shirt clinging to his biceps—parts of the seam unthreaded, likely over-worn. 

“You taking me away from here or will we see if my lipstick is still on the mirror from last time?” 

All set to move, to slide from your usual bar stool, when he rests his palm on the back of it, caging you, keeping you there. All broad, wide, arms long, as you stare at him, enamoured, suddenly unsure why you don't just press your mouth to his here and now.

“You not like where y’sat?” he asks.

Doing so as though he can’t see the twinkle in your eyes or see the play-by-play movie you hope will happen tonight flicking in your pupils. As though he can't see how he'd struggle to slide a finger between your pressed-together thighs, never mind his hand.  

Moving your hand, you bring your glass closer, taking a sip of your Coke, ice clinking, straw remaining on your lip a second longer as his brown eyes dig a little deeper. 

“Maybe, I just think your face is worth sitting on.”

You hadn’t banked on going home with him. 

A shift, a noticeable change to the way things were. But, it thrilled you. Made the entire ride over an excited, uncomfortable mess as your underwear grew more ruined with every mile. 

He’d made it worth it.

Gave you a fucking throne to sit on as he worked his tongue inside you like he was as starved as you. He drew you to the edge, hanging you over it as he paused, cool breaths blown before his tongue did a circle, a square, and a letter on your clit that made your ears ring, vision blur and your thighs ache from trembling. 

Made you feel relief.

“All fours for me.” 

It's followed by a demand, an order. One you follow with a scramble. A bend of your back that has him calling you a good girl as he inches his cock in—making your fingers clench around his bedsheets. 

Your body welcomes him.

A blend of feeling good and too much all at once as you stretch around him. Feeling his palm on your spine, sliding down before moving over your hip. Words spoken, grunted into your skin that you’re barely able to discern as your breathing comes back to you, as you relax around him and let him bury himself to the hilt inside of you. 

“Y’can move.” 

And he does. 

Making your body illuminate, a full-on tremble as you course with electricity. Each drag making you see those same spots in your vision. Making you moan, whine, groan.

That is, until you hiss—a different one than when he pinches your ear lobe between his teeth or when he sucks on the skin of your neck a little more intensely than normal. 

You apologise. Tapping to move, finding he releases you, before you explain—Cramp. That’s all you offer. Fearful of crossing another boundary when you move, positioning yourself on your back and letting the low light from his bedside lamp shimmer over him. 

And fuck, is he handsome. Beautiful.

The sheen of sweat makes him glow, makes every inch of him quickly committed to memory. Doing so for as long as you let yourself give before you're yanking his mouth back to yours, panted against it when he slides his cock back, pushing all the way, feeling the fullness you crave in the weeks between seeing him. 

Because it’s a feeling you’d wait for. 

Practically growing parched before you see him again, salivating at the sight of his eyes and hardened stare.

It's a thing you suspect he feels too, virtually confessing it with each thrust, punctuating it, practically marking it on your walls as his arm rests in the space above your head, caging you, allowing him to watch everything that flicks across your face. 

It’s why when you wake up in an unfamiliar bed, in sheets that don’t smell like yours—a wish for his name begins burning there on the tip of your tongue now. All acidic—making a mark. 

It does so as you find your clothes—as you slip your legs inside your jeans and manage to throw on your blouse. 

It’s then you see the photos—stitch together the life your mystery man leads. Seeing that he has a kid, one with a beautiful smile—a child that looks half his and half someone you hope you don’t know. 

A sickness churning, flipping inside of you as you slide out of the bedroom, sneak down the staircase and spot the door you can escape through. 

It’s just, you know nothing about him. 

You don’t know that he likes his coffee black and that he barely eats breakfast. In the same way, you don’t know that he rises early, and he’s already waiting for you because he’d heard the sound of the wobbly floorboards. 

“Sneakin’ out?” 

“Sneaking implies I’m embarrassed.” 

Hand wrapped around a mug—making it look small, insignificant, he takes a sip. “You’re not?” 

“Should I be?” 

Shrugging, he takes another sip. 

You say goodbye. Let the place his name should be linger.

Then you close his door behind you. 

Fuck.

You learn his name is Joel.

Each of the four letters practically burnt into you when he handed them to you. Yet, you'd wished he'd seared them into your skin while his fingers held your chin.

Because then you could call it an accident.

But, he doesn't hand it to you that way. He gives it to you. Willingly. 

Just like he does with slithers of his past, his work, that he comes here with his brother, and then his kid’s name—Sarah. Explains it in as few words as possible. Better than sitting at home alone. Better company here. 

The latter almost makes your lips twitch into a smile. 

Joel gives you all of this on a different kind of night than you normally see him. You're working, for one. Pencil tapping against the book, the numbers make sense—the maths finding their rhythm.

But, even if that all makes sense, he doesn’t. 

Nothing about him adds up. An enigma, a confusion on two legs. Yet, you’re hooked—knew you were when you took him in the bathroom of the bar your friends own and got on your knees for him. When you unbuckled his belt and let it clang, tasting salt and pent-up frustration on your tongue as he filled your mouth with his release. He didn’t ask to see it, but you showed it to him anyway, earning an arrogant smirk before he’s helping you off the ground. 

You tell him yours, exchange him for it as you look down at the books—nudging receipts with the eraser end of your pencil before he leans his forearms on the edge of the bar next to you. 

“Already knew that.” 

Your head turns before your neck catches up. Eyes narrowed, lips parting in a question—except it never leaves your throat. 

“I asked about you.” 

Dropping your pencil, you fight the smile. The one desperate to carve on your face. “Why?” 

“Right thing to do.” 

Brow arching, you smirk—letting that free, allow it to spread up to your eyes as your body twists. 

“Y’think you’d wanna get outta here?”

“With you?” 

He runs his tongue over the front of his teeth, thumb circling his finger. “Think I owe you dinner.” 

Nodding, you close the book—pencil keeping your place, sliding it up, nodding to the person behind the bar before turning back to him.

“You did have dessert the last time we saw each other, Joel.”  

“I did. Should know better—I’m a dad.”

Resting your cheek on your palm, you roll your lips, and watch red rise up his neck as he waits for your answer. “Your shirt is inside out.” 

“Goddamn it.” 

You go with him anyway.

an: I HAVE NEVER WRITTEN PRE-OUTBREAK JOEL. so thank my circle friends because this all began with them, and a faceless man. and now here we are.

[gyuwoncheol]

Cheol being literally offended when you sit on any seat that’s not his face lap he’s like ??? your designated throne is right here and you’re sitting on the couch? - ⚡️💖

TW: dirty talk, use of pet names, mentions of face sitting and fingering, no actual sex but VERY suggestive so you’ve been warned. 18+ only (MDNI).

Note: sorry this took a while, ⚡️ anon. But know that i love you dearly.

Note 2.0: a little drabble for you all as I try to navigate my busy schedule and get through my WIPs. These really help me keep my writing cap on so if you have thoughts about ang of the boys, send them right in 😉

“Where are you going?” Your boyfriend asks as your wrist gets caught on his large hand.

Cheol was looking up at you from where he was seated in the armchair on the far side of Seokmin’s huge living room. All the boys gathered together with their significant others to celebrate the end of their comeback season.

You smiled and patted the top of his head, “over there. There’s an empty spot beside Chan.” You should’ve known to just keep quiet instead because the angry pout that appeared on Seungcheol’s face was classic.

A simple tug on your wrist and the next thing you know, his strong arms were around your torso and you were seated on his lap.

“Stay here.”

You turned your head to the side, examining the disgusted look he was throwing Chan. “Why do you have to sit there huh? I’m literally right here.”

“It was an empty spot, Cheollie, calm down. I wasn’t really thinking much of it.”

A tighter grip squeezed on your waist and suddenly your boyfriend’s lips were inches from your ear, “Did you also not think much last night when you asked to sit on my face?”

“Seungcheol!” You reprimand him with a whisper, eyes bugging out in disbelief at his choice of words, yet all he did was smirk continuously, his signature eyebrow raise in full view.

“That’s not how you were calling me last night when I was making you cum, princess.”

You made an attempt to move out of Cheol’s hold, embarrassed at how he wasn’t even lowering his volume with your friends around, not that they could hear anyway with how loud Seungkwan and Seokmin were bickering.

“I said, stay.” His bone-chilling tone renders you immobile, shocks of electricity alighting your nerves.

“Don’t worry, princess, they can’t hear me,” he confirms, but it’s not at all reassuring when he moves your ass against his crotch. He repeats the motion several more times, his hardening cock feeling more and more prominent through his sweatpants and your skirt, “But they will hear you if you start whimpering louder.”

You stilled at his words, eyes shooting open and head snapping up from where you had let it fall against his shoulder. You didn’t even notice how you had let yourself slowly fall into a bubble of pleasure, soft quiet whines leaving your mouth in that short duration.

“Cheol, stop, please,” you beg as sternly as you could, stopping his hand from hiking up in between your legs. Though your little spot was a little on the far side of the room and the rest of the group had their backs on you, one look back from his members and they could tell their leader was attempting to finger you.

Seungcheol chuckles darkly at your request, his hot breath right on your ear, “Fine,” he finally agrees, not wanting to traumatize any of your friends, “but you’re staying here, listening to me as I tell you exactly how I’ll make you cum at least eight times tonight.”

[the-fiction-witch]

My Dragoness

Media - Game Of Thrones Character - Viserys Targaryen Couple - Viserys X Reader Reader - Y/n Rating - 18 + fingering/ anal/ squirting/ bj/ facial/ ejaculate/ spanking/ mastubating / dom x sub/ Word Count - 2062

Part Two to My Dragon

Viserys's gaze snapped back into focus, his eyes locking onto Y/n's with a calculating intensity. “Now,” he said, “now we begin our true work.” he sighed, “The time has come,” Viserys declared, “for us to reclaim the Iron Throne. We've been waiting for too long, gathering strength and resources in secret. It's time to strike, to show the Seven Kingdoms that we will not be ignored.” He sat up keeping Y/n in his arms, his eyes burning with determination as he surveyed their surroundings. “We need a plan, a strategy to take back Westeros.”

she nodded "I am no good for war my dragon, should I summon your men to discuss? Or should I just listen while I pleasure my king?" She cooed

Viserys's gaze narrowed, his mind racing with the implications of her words. But beneath the surface, a spark of desire flared to life, fueled by the promise of pleasure “No,” he growled, “don't summon anyone yet. Not until I'm done with you. You'll listen to me, and only me, as I tell you exactly how to make me feel.” he smirked, “And as for pleasing your king…Your mouth,” Viserys commanded, “is going to be busy tonight. You'll suck me dry, take every last drop of cum. And then you'll swallow, swallowing everything I give you.” He leaned forward, his lips brushing against hers in a rough, possessive kiss. “Now get to work, my queen.”

she nodded and moved to her knees taking his cock in her mouth without hesitation licking the seed from his cock after the previous orgasms inside her as well as her own jucies,

Viserys's eyes rolled back in his head, his body arching off the bed as she sucked him with a ferocity that left him breathless. “Yes,” he hissed, “just like that. Deeper, harder, take it all. Don't stop, don't slow down.” He threaded his fingers through her hair, gripping tight as she worked him over with her tongue and lips. His hips pumped upward, fucking her mouth with abandon as he chased the next orgasm. “I can feel it building,”

Viserys whispered, “a storm is coming, and I'm not just talking about the weather. The people are restless, hungry for power and revenge. They'll follow me, blindly loyal to the Targaryen name.” He leaned forward, his eyes glinting with a fierce light. “It's time to gather our allies, to forge alliances and make deals. We'll need the support of the Great Houses, their armies and resources if we're to succeed. But there's one thing holding us back…the question of who will sit upon the Iron Throne once we've reclaimed it.” Viserys's gaze locked onto hers, piercing and intense.

she nodded as she sucked and licked

Viserys's grip on her hair tightened, his body tensing as he approached the brink of orgasm. “Don't stop,” he growled, “keep sucking, keep licking. I want to feel it build, to feel myself spill over the edge.” He thrust deeper into her mouth, his cock pulsating with tension as he teetered on the precipice. And then, in a burst of release, he came, spilling his seed down her throat as she swallowed every last drop. Viserys collapsed back onto the bed, utterly spent and exhausted.

Y/n swallowed it all but she didn't stop, moaning down his cock as she works

Viserys's eyes snapped open, his gaze locking onto hers as he felt a surge of renewed desire course through his veins “You're…you're killing me,” he gasped, “with those sounds, with that mouth. Keep going, Y/n, don't stop now. I want to feel it again, I want to come all over your face.” He reached down, his hands grasping her shoulders as he pulled her closer. “Suck harder,” he commanded, “suck it like your life depends on it.”

she sucked and licked as much as she could moaning down his cock,

It was then viserys saw why she was suddenly so vocal, as her hand was between her legs fingering herself and rubbing her clit letting her juices and his seed leak onto her hand as she pleasured herself. All while still sucking his cock.

Viserys's eyes widened in shock, his mind reeling with the sight before him. “Oh, god,” he breathed, “you're…you're touching yourself. While sucking me? That's…that's filthy.” He felt a jolt of excitement run through him, his cock twitching in her mouth, Viserys's gaze remained fixed on her hand, his eyes burning with intensity as he watched her pleasure herself. “You're…so dirty,” he whispered, “and I love it. Come closer,” he commanded, “let me see you touch yourself while sucking my cock.”

she moved onto the bed still sucking his cock as her hand moved passionately desperate for her release

Viserys's eyes rolled back in his head, his body arching off the bed as he felt himself slipping further into ecstasy. “Yes, yes, yes,” he chanted, “touch yourself like that. Show me how you get off. Make yourself come while sucking my cock.” His hips began to pump furiously, driving himself deeper into her mouth as he chased the rush of pleasure.

her sucking slowed as she moaned more and more but did her best between moans to keep her pace

Viserys's grip on the bedsheets tightened, his knuckles white as he strained towards release.

“No, no, no,” he groaned, “don't stop, Y/n. Don't stop sucking me. I'm close, I can feel it.” Suddenly, Viserys's entire body locked up, his muscles tensing as he came in a torrential flood. His seed shot down her throat, filling her mouth and making her gag. But she didn't pull away, instead continuing to suck him dry as if starving for every last drop.

Y/n moaned loudly sucking so hard he almost fainted as she hit her orgasm squirting down her hand

Viserys's vision blurred, his head spinning as he felt himself being drained of every last drop. “Y/n…oh god…” he whispered, “you're… you're killing me.”

she stopped her hand and slowly milked the last of his seed before she collapsed on the bed her pussy trembling from excitement

Viserys lay there, spent and exhausted, his chest heaving with ragged breaths as he watched Y/n collapse beside him. For a moment, they just lay there, the only sound the heavy breathing of two people who had given themselves completely to their desires. Then, Viserys reached out and gently stroked her hair, his fingers tangling in its softness as he whispered, “You…are…amazing. I've never felt anything like that before.”

"did it please you my dragon?" She gasps

“it pleased me” His voice dropped to a growl, “I want more.” Viserys's hands closed around Y/n's wrists, holding them captive as he leaned in close “You know what would make it even better?”

“What?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“If you were bound,” Viserys replied, his eyes glinting with a sinister light. He left the bed a moment to grab his belt, expertly knotting it around her wrists before pulling tight. “Now,” he said, his voice dripping with menace, “let's see how long you can hold out.” he grabbed her hair and pulled her to kneel across his lap, he spread her ass cheeks and thighs letting her drip down her legs, she let out a small squeal of excitement as he looks her pussy and ass over a few times before slapping her ass hard

"Ughh! My dragon!"

Viserys's eyes gleamed with pleasure as he spanked her again, the sound echoing through the air. “Oh, yes,” he purred, “my little dragoness likes a good spanking, don't you?” He ran his hands over her skin, tracing the curves of her body with gentle fingers.

“Yes my dragon!”

“And now,” he whispered, “it's time for something else.”

Viserys's fingers dipped between her legs, f

she moaned loudly as his fingers slipped inside her dripping pussy

Viserys's fingers moved in and out of her, pumping steadily as he leaned back on the bed, his eyes fixed intently on Y/n's face. She was so wet, so ready for him,and Viserys couldn't help but feel a surge of pride and ownership “My little dragoness is so eager for me,” he whispered, his voice husky with desire. He added another finger, stretching her wide as he pumped in and out of her. “Yes, just like that,” he encouraged, his own arousal growing with each passing moment. Viserys knew exactly what he wanted now,and nothing was going to stop him from getting it.

she moaned and screamed in pleasure as he so roughly fingered her, his fingers moving inside her pumping and stretching her making her squirt and squeal

Viserys's eyes blazed with excitement as he watched Y/n's reaction, his fingers moving faster and harder inside her “Squirt for me, my little dragoness,” he growled, his voice low and commanding. He felt a rush of power as she obeyed, her body releasing a flood of liquid as he continued to pump his fingers in and out of her. Viserys's own arousal spiked, his cock throbbing with need as he reached down and wrapped his hand around it, stroking himself slowly. “Not yet,” he whispered, his eyes locked on Y/n's face. “I'm not done with you yet.”

he slapped her ass a few times more making her red and sore before he lubbed up his hand with her squirt and used it to slip two fingers in her pussy, and two fingers in her ass

"Ahhh! Viserys!" She screamed as she immediately came squirting down his hand and screaming loudly as she clenched around his fingers and trembled desperately

Viserys's face twisted in a snarl of satisfaction as he felt her clench around his fingers, her body trembling with release. “Yes, my little dragoness,” he hissed, his voice barely above a whisper. “You're so responsive, so eager for me.” He worked his fingers deeper, feeling her muscles contract and release as she came down from her orgasm. Viserys's own arousal was almost unbearable now, his cock throbbing with need as he leaned forward, his lips brushing against Y/n's ear. “I want to see you come again,” he whispered, his breath hot against her skin.

she whined but it was too late viserys found her gspot inside her pussy and all he had to do was rub on it with his fingers and she came screaming and squirting all over him,

Viserys's fingers danced across her G-spot, sending waves of pleasure crashing through her body. He felt her muscles tense and release as she came, her screams echoing through the air as she squirted all over him. He didn't stop, couldn't stop, as he rode the wave of her orgasm with his fingers. Each time she came, he felt her body tighten around them, milking him for more. “Faster,” he growled, his own arousal spiking as he felt her climax build once more. He quickened his pace, rubbing against that sweet spot until she shattered apart again, her body convulsing in ecstasy. And still he didn't stop, driving his fingers deeper into her pussy and ass, coaxing out another scream, another torrent of liquid. Viserys's fingers were a blur as he worked her over, his movements swift and precise. He could feel her body building towards another climax, her muscles tensing in anticipation. With a sudden burst of speed, he rubbed against that magic spot once more, sending her soaring into another orgasm.

This time, however, it was different. Her body seemed to shatter apart completely, her screams echoing off the walls of the tent as she came with a ferocity that it took him over his own edge his seed spurting out across her stomach,

As she lay there, spent and helpless, Viserys withdrew his fingers from her pussy and ass, leaving her gaping and vulnerable.

Viserys's chest heaved with exertion as he stood up, his fingers still slick with Y/n's juices. He towered over her, his eyes blazing with a fierce intensity “fuck” he growled, his voice dripping with menace. “You are going to be the best queen ever.” he cooed laying down with her,

“Viserys…”

“Yes Y/n?”

“I love you, my dragon" she cooed

"I love you too my dragoness" he cooed leaning down to kiss her lips

she held his cheeks in her hands as they kissed, as sweet and tender kiss full of love until they pulled back

His eyes locked onto hers, burning with a fierce passion. He grasped her wrists, holding them captive as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against hers once more “No, don't pull away,” he whispered, his voice husky with desire. “Not yet.” His mouth crashed down on hers once more,

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Dou you still write for fenrys? If you do, can we get some fluff? Everything you wrote about him is absolutely PERFECT!! But ofc, take your time❤️❤️

Hard days

warning: some tog spoilers, loss of a family member, grief.

You had taken shelter in one of the rebuilt cities once Aelin had rightfully claimed her throne. The court was filling up way quicker than expected. The city growing and expanding every day. You had come there with hopes of a better future as well. Full of hope. Full of longing for something better. You had a little shop of your own. Kindly gifted by the queen herself. It wasn't anything big, you just loved sowing. Dresses, tunics, suits you name it. It was an honor to be able to bring your queen's wishes to life.

But it wasn't only the queen who had taken a liking to you. Fenrys had been a regular visitor to your shop. You only knew a couple of things about him. And those too were only from the gossip floating around town. He had a brother. Had. He had been killed by Maeve and he had never truly recovered. Most said that he only walked through the city in his wolf form. Rarely in any of the gatherings as a male. So the white wolf had because quite a regular visitor.

He sat outside for almost all the time. Until it had started snowing and your heart simply couldn't take it any longer. Dropping the fabric and needles you reached for the door. Your heart suddenly started beating fast. In the wolf form, he was huge. No average wild wolf. His head turned to you as you stepped outside. You swallowed quickly. Slightly regret your choice but there was no backing out now.

"It's snowing", you muttered, "You should come inside, the fire is blazing", you nodded towards the fireplace. Fanrys glanced through the window. "I bet wet fur ain't too pleasant either", you giggled slightly. The wolf let out a huff but still got up. Slowly stepping inside. "Is it okay if I close the door, i'll get it open for you the moment you want to go", you said softly, truly to make as little noise as possible. He nodded, continuing to sniff around.

You had continued to talk to him the whole night as you got back to work. Occasionally asking for his opinion on draping and color choices. He responded with blinks nods or growls at times. But you could tell that soon his anxiety eased, his fur getting all fluffy and smooth as he drifted off to sleep. That had been a useful norm for weeks now. Almost every night he was there waiting for the moment the last customer left. You had also started making more food, offering him a pot of his dinner.

Until almost a couple of months down the line when Fenrys hadn't shown up and your anxiety had peaked straight away. You had sat for hours waiting for him but there had been no sign of him coming any time soon. So you did the first thing that came to your mind. "Your grace", you bowed deeply as Aelin opened her cabin door. Dinner sounds falling through the open door. "Yn, what a pleasant surprise", she had smiled, "come in".

But you shook your head, "Have you seen Fenrys, is he here by any chance?". Her face changed instantly as she looked over her shoulder, "No, dear, he doesn't spend time with us that often. Is something wrong?". You swallowed thickly, "He spends nights in my shop but... he didn't show up tonight and I just have this bad feeling", you said, worry lacing your words. A large male with dark features stepped up, "Today marks a year since his brother had been killed, it's better if you leave him alone, girl", the male snarled at you. "Lorcan", another female called out in your defense.

But you only held yourself higher, "I'm telling you that I need to find him. I need to make sure he's okay", your hands twisted into fists, "With or without your help", you said firmly. Lorcan narrowed his eyes at you but something in his eyes had shifted. "Gavriel, you mind", he turned towards the table where a male with long blond hair sat. He simply nodded before getting up, "This won't be pretty", he said in a much calmer tone. "Does it look to you like I care if it's pretty?", you grumbled back.

The woods were dark and maker, you would never step into them on your own. You bad no idea how Gavriel and Lorcan even saw anything. "He might be in a mood", Lorcan warned you. "He's been going through it, our boy", Gavriel added, "But I'm glad that he found a friend in you". You smiled at them your mind still racing. Till your eye fell on a heaving figure. Labored breathing, pained cries. Your steps picked up instantly as you rushed before the two males.

"Fenrys", you called out, pushing through the branches. The wolf only howled in pain. "Fen", you said once more making his head twirl to the side. Fangs out as he gets ready to attack. You stopped instantly and within a beat of a heart two fea soldiers were right in front of you but that only made Fenrys grow more. "Let me", you muttered, stepping from between them. "I got worried", you muttered, "Was waiting for you all night", you said softly, extending your hand towards him. Fenrys's eyes softened as a pained whine left his lips. You simply nodded along, "I know, but you don't have to go through this alone". Almost at the last sound of your words a warm light flashed and a male almost twisted your size and sagged forward. You had reached to catch him your Fenrys as you two sunk to the floor. His hair was all matted and dirty, the scars on his face in desperate need of cleaning and some soothing salve. Yet he was still so beautiful. "Oh, Fenrys", you said softly, guiding his face to your shoulder as you pulled your cloak over him.

The two males had helped you carry him back to your shop, where you had ushered him into a warm bath filled with soothing oil mixtures. Humming to yourself as you carefully detangled his hair section by section. A satisfied growl left the wolf's lips from time to time. "I can give it a little trim, just the tips though", you said after a moment, "Braid it for you as well". Fenrys turned to you slightly, "You should be disgusted by this", his voice was raspy and shaky almost no doubt from the lack of using it. "Nothing about you can be disgusting", you said with a smile, "You are going through a rough period in your life and if I can help even a little, I will", you said firmly, making sure he understood that you truly meant it. "But you've already done so much. You've given me hope", his eyes trailed down and you instantly cupped his cheek, wanting to look him in the eyes, "and I am willing to give you so much more, my white wolf", you leaned in brushing your lips over Fenrys's cheek.

[bihansthot]

Soooooo, I’ve never written face sitting before, and decided it was about time I did so. I don’t know why I’m writing again, but I’m not complaining I guess? Hope you loves enjoy it!

Bi-Han x wife!reader, afab terminology, cunnilingus, face sitting, smutty smut drabble

You lower your hips timidly, almost reluctantly, heart pounding out of your chest as you do so, everything about this seems so new and almost wrong you’re not sure what to do. There you are, hovering over your perfect cryomancer’s handsome face just waiting, not wanting to make the first move, you’re so used to being submissive to him that the idea of just lowering yourself onto his waiting mouth seemed absurd. Bi-Han has other plans though, before you can lose your nerve entirely he pulls your thighs flush with his face as his icy tongue laves your warm, wet mound. You cry out at the sensation, there was nothing else like it on earth save for maybe playing with ice cubes in the bathtub but that paled in comparison to the wet, insistent, slippery tongue. “Bi-Han!” You cry as he grabs your hips and forces his tongue inside your throbbing hole, your walls immediately clenching around the appendage, you jerk your hips in his grasp and whimper.

He pushes you up a bit so he can talk, albeit in a muffled, deep voice, “I said ride my face qīn, not just sit there and do nothing, tonight my face is your throne not my cock.”

Your face flushes hot at his words, you’re doing the best you can in your role reversal but apparently not good enough. You gather your courage and sink back down on his face and rock your hips, his nose feels so good against your clit you cry out immediately. Bi-Han’s cold mouth opens wide, enveloping your hot cunt in his hyperboreal grasp, it makes your head swim as his tongue once again plunges inside your waiting cunny. You whine as the cold organ wriggles inside you, pumping in and out, he groans loudly against your pussy as your nectar floods his mouth with each greedy press of his tongue. You gain confidence as you hear the cryomancer enjoying himself and rock your hips against him again, moaning steadily as you ride his face. Sub-Zero’s grunts and growls are all the encouragement you need and suddenly you find yourself confident enough to really sit on his handsome face and grind your pussy on him, you want smearing all over his lovely lips, his glistening chin, his prominent nose, all covered with your lust and he’s absolutely loving it. He encourages you with grunts and squeezes as he grips your full hips in his icy grip and nudges his way deeper inside your hot canal, determined to soak up every bit of heat and moisture you gave him.

You whine and moan louder and louder with each passing moment as your hips find their rhythm and you’re riding his tongue as if it was his cock, your voice climbing higher and higher in octave as you go. You can’t last long like this, you never could when the cryomancer ate your pussy, Bi-Han’s icy tongue was just too much, and now with the added sensation of grinding your sensitive clit against his nose, soon you were done for. You all but grind him into oblivion as you chase your high, hips rocking frantically back and forth as your hands cling to the blankets next to you, you squeal his name as the first jolts of pleasure surge through your body. “Bi-Han, I’m going to, oh fuck, Polar Bear, I, I, ah! Sub-Zero!” You cry shrilly certain that someone in the temple complex had to have heard but you don’t care at this point, you’re happy to let them all know their Grandmaster fucks this good. Your shrill cries don’t cease as the pleasure courses through your body, wave after wave making you dizzy, light-headed, and drunk off of pleasure, it was a beautiful, addictive feeling only your husband was capable of giving you. He refuses to stop though, taking over and rocking your hips for you now that you no longer can, tears start to gather in the corners of your eyes as the overstimulation builds.

His tongue moves to lick rapidly against your clit, flicking it back and forth over the little nub before sucking on it almost aggressively, determined to make you fall apart again and quickly. You wail as his onslaught continues, licking and sucking every inch of you, grinding your pussy against his face, his nose grinding your clit when his tongue wasn’t and the whole thing started to become overwhelming in a hurry. You still haven’t come down from your first high as the cryomancer forces you to your peak once again, built-up heat in your belly swells and snaps as your want gushes onto his waiting face, Bi-Han moans at the sensation. The noise builds your high even more as you shake and thrash in his grasp, every action setting off a tiny earthquake in your body as the pleasure ebbs and flows in a seemingly endless cycle. Eventually, your husband takes pity on you as he stops rocking your hips and slows his movements, letting you go back to hovering just above him.

Bi-Han groans deeply against your slick folds, the action pulling pitiful little mewls from you as he lifts you up just enough to start lapping at every inch of your soaked pussy, determined not to let a drop of your nectar go to waste. He cleans you meticulously, loving and savoring every bit of your sweet release, “you taste so good qīn, I could do this all day,” he rumbles against you, his cold tongue gliding over your trembling, overly sensitive folds. “You did such a good job for me baby, the way your rode my face was so good, you’re always such a good girl for me,” he praises lazily, ignoring his aching erection as he leisurely traces your opening.

“It was so good,” you pant out softly, aftershocks still making your body quake as you're held tightly by the cryomancer, still perched atop his face. Your thighs tremble with exertion as you try not to suffocate your husband, but at this point, you think he wouldn’t mind, it was unusual for Bi-Han to be as vocal as he was and you weren’t sure if it was just him encouraging you or him enjoying himself, perhaps a combination of the two, either way, you knew you were a very lucky woman. Gradually you press yourself up and move to the side with his help, you need a moment or two to compose yourself before returning the favor. Though the thought of sucking the cryomancer’s dick had your mouth and pussy watering, something about it turned you on so immensely but that was a treat for later, for now, you were just going to enjoy your blissed-out sensation.

[deliciousangelfestival]

My Problematic Girl - 12

Character: College!Steve Rogers x Rich!Female Reader

Summary:  Steve's mundane life in university, focused on graduating and funding his mother's surgery, is shaken by a mysterious new student who brings danger and surprises.

Author's Note: I decided to stop using "Y/N." Starting from this chapter, I will use the second-person point of view instead.

My Problematic Girl - Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more.

Your heart was beating fast as you approached Maximus, the patriarch of the Solomon family and the man who held the key to uncovering the truth about your mother's death.

Maximus, sitting in his wheelchair like a king on his throne, smiled at you. But you knew there was a hidden meaning behind that smile.

“You’ve made your way back. I’m impressed,” he said.

You bowed deeply. “I will do anything to impress the king.”

“Hahaha.” His laughter echoed through the grand hall, drawing the attention of the guests. Even those who had worked with Maximus for years rarely heard him laugh.

But you, the outsider who was thrown out for staining the Solomon name, were welcomed back.

Your father, Brian, stood nearby. His expression was neutral, but you could tell he was impressed that you had managed to gain Maximus's favor. He just hoped you wouldn't mess up this chance again.

Shara, your step-sister with no blood relation to you, stood between her grandfather and your father. To outsiders, she looked like your father's daughter. She had successfully stolen your father's affection, and you had willingly let her. She smiled at you. “Our house felt empty without you.”

You returned her smile with a fake one. “Hmph.”

This was the first time Steve had seen your step-sister. The difference between the two of you was like fire and water.

“It’s exciting, right? I heard the battle of succession will happen soon.” Steve nearly jumped when someone suddenly spoke to him.

“Why do you act like you’ve seen a ghost?” The stranger laughed. “My name is Derick. I saw you talking to Sophia. Does your company work with her?”

Steve quickly tried to remember the guest information you had given him. Derick was an elite from a wealthy family who owned an oil company.

“She’s interested in my painting,” Steve replied.

Derick gasped and covered his mouth with his hand in mock surprise. “Oh shit. You’re that painter.” He tilted his head, a mocking smile on his face. “So you’re just extra baggage, huh?” Then he walked away.

Steve didn’t know whether to feel offended or not. He wasn’t entirely sure what 'extra baggage' meant in this context.

'Ding.'

A small ring from the butler's bell silenced the room, drawing everyone's attention. “The dining room is ready for the guests,” he announced.

The guests began to make their way slowly toward the dining room. Steve hesitated, unsure if there was a seat prepared for him.

“Steve,” you called, nodding your head for him to follow you.

The dining room was immense, decorated with the opulence of a five-star French hotel. The elegant table settings and luxurious interior reminded Steve of scenes from the magazines he used for drawing references. It felt like a feast fit for a king.

Now, he regretted following you. He was seated beside you, directly in the circle of the Solomon family. He felt terrified, especially under the scrutinizing gaze of Maximus. The intensity of it made him want to crawl under the table.

“So you’re the new rising artist?” Maximus asked, his voice cutting through the chatter.

“Yes… sir,” Steve replied, his voice trembling. His nervousness almost made Sophia and Shara chuckle.

“You found an obedient pet,” Maximus remarked to you. You sipped your champagne before responding, “I need something to rid me of my boredom.”

Steve rolled his eyes. The conversation between you and Maximus sounded almost familial. Despite the initial fear, he started to see Maximus not as a terrifying patriarch but as an old man with a sharp tongue and a certain charm.

But Steve spoke too soon. He soon saw the true nature of Maximus—a sadistic man.

When the food arrived, everyone began eating except for Maximus. He never moved his hands from the armrests of his wheelchair. Three servants attended to him: one cutting his food, one feeding him, and one providing water whenever he asked for it.

“Water,” Maximus demanded. If the servant was too slow, he would slap the glass from their hand and say, “Too late.”

'What the fuck? This old man can use his hands. Why is he acting disabled?' Steve thought, trying to hide his shock. But Maximus could read him easily. His old age had taught him to read people like a book.

“You wonder why?” Maximus asked, his piercing eyes locking onto Steve's.

Steve stiffened, unsure how to respond. He glanced at you for some guidance, but you were calmly sipping your champagne, seemingly unbothered by the tension.

Maximus leaned forward slightly, a cruel smile playing on his lips. “Power, young man. It’s all about power. I don’t need to lift a finger because I’ve trained everyone around me to cater to my every whim. It’s a demonstration of control.”

Steve swallowed hard, nodding slightly. “I see, sir.” The answer is the same as you. Turned out you learned from him. No wonder why you mind fucked up some time.

Maximus chuckled, the sound sending a chill down Steve’s spine. “Do you? It’s not something you see, it’s something you feel. The weight of authority, the expectation of obedience.”

Sophia leaned in, her gaze fixed on Steve. “You must understand, in our world, appearances are everything. Power is maintained not just through actions, but through the perception of those actions.”

Steve nodded again, his mind racing. He could feel the eyes of the entire table on him, judging his every move.

“Eat, Steve,” you said softly, breaking the tension slightly. “Enjoy the food.”

Steve picked up his fork and began to eat, his hands still shaking slightly. The food was exquisite, but he could barely taste it over the anxiety roiling in his stomach.

‘Ding. Ding.’

One of the guests stood up from his seat. Steve recognized him as the country's economic minister. Silently, he marveled that someone of such importance was among the guests. The minister raised his champagne glass, and everyone followed suit. “We’re here to celebrate a genius businessman who has made us all rich.” His remark made the guests laugh. “We wish you a long life, Mr. Solomon.”

Maximus nodded his head and made a hand motion for everyone to sit. He didn’t say a word, yet everyone obeyed him. He was right; money and power could command such respect.

“I did. I made everyone in this room fucking rich,” he said, his voice filled with authority.

Everyone laughed and agreed with him.

“I’m grateful that all of you are here, wishing me a long life. But I have decided to retire,” Maximus announced.

‘Clink.’

A fork fell to the ground, the sound echoing in the room. Silence followed as everyone processed the announcement. Even Sophia, Brian, Shara, and you were shocked; Maximus had never mentioned retiring.

“Father…” Sophia tried to intervene.

“Be quiet, Sophia. I’m trying to talk here.” Maximus slapped her hand away, embarrassing her but remaining unfazed.

“Everything changes as I grow older. My generation is slowly dying, and the new generation must take over,” he continued.

The guests started murmuring. ‘What does it mean?’

‘Is he going to give the company to Sophia or Shara?’

“There are two people I see as my future heir. Shara, my granddaughter.” Maximus looked at Shara, who turned pale, anticipating the next words her grandfather would say.

“And my step-granddaughter, Y/N,” he declared.

The room erupted in noise. Everyone began talking at once. He skipped his daughter Sophia from the list and chose his granddaughter instead. Sophia turned pale as snow, her father not even considering her worth it.

“Sir, you’re going to give the company to someone not related to you?” one of the guests asked.

“It’s my fucking company. I can do whatever I want,” Maximus screamed, punching the table.

Steve flinched, realizing just how terrifying the old man could be.

“Besides… she has my blood,” Maximus revealed, dropping a bombshell.

You looked at him, confusion and questions etched on your face. What was he talking about?

Maximus smiled at you. “Eight years ago, when you needed a blood transfusion, I gave you my blood. So my blood is running through your veins right now.” He said it like he gave you a wonderful gift.

You were shocked, looking down at your arms. You had no idea. Confusion and disgust washed over you at the thought of having Solomon's blood.

Brian glared at his father-in-law. “You’re a prick.”

Maximus smirked. He slowly stood up from his wheelchair and opened his arms wide. “Like a king in the old days, he would choose a successor from his descendants. He would pick the best.”

Shara gasped, unable to believe her grandfather was serious. She looked at you, who was smiling at her like a joker. You were excited for this. You couldn’t wait to bring down this kingdom.

“Let the battle for succession begin!” Maximus proclaimed.

The tension in the room was palpable. Guests whispered among themselves, their faces a mix of shock and intrigue. Maximus’s declaration had set the stage for a fierce and ruthless competition.

You could feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins. The prospect of this battle excited you, the chance to prove yourself and to upend the established order.

Steve, still reeling from the announcement, tried to maintain his composure. He glanced at you, noticing the fire in your eyes. You were ready for this challenge, ready to face whatever came your way.

Maximus returned to his wheelchair, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “This will be a test of strength, intelligence, and loyalty. Only the best will inherit my empire.”

Sophia and Brian exchanged worried glances while Shara’s face twisted in fear. The room buzzed with anticipation, the air thick with unspoken rivalries and ambitions.

The murmurs of the guests could be heard, expressing a preference for you instead because you already have experience and started from the bottom, while Shara is still learning to become a doctor.

The guests couldn’t stop discussing the impending battle as the evening continued. You and Steve found yourselves at the center of attention, every move scrutinized, every word analyzed.

Maximus watched from his wheelchair, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. He had set the stage for a power struggle that would test the limits of everyone involved.

The night ended with a sense of foreboding and excitement. The real game was about to begin, and in the world of the Solomons, only the strongest would survive.

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[yerimsdreams]

A Fool's Dream

author's note: i hate this, but oh well, this suddenly came to me and i needed to get it out of my system. this does not have an ending so beware of that lol .

zaros kymen atha'lin x earis!reader (she/her pronouns are used) + argil cameo.

warnings: swearing. snitching. bad ending. mention of prostitutes. this is over 3k words. idk what else. oh jealousy.

The Earis strolled through the peaceful corridors of the castle, making her way towards the library. Ever since the start of the trials, she had been practically living there, spending every minute she could spare in the giant space. 

As she entered the grand hall, her eyes scanned the rows of shelves and the warm, inviting study desks she had come to know so well. To her surprise, she spotted a woman standing by one of the desks she and Zaros had unofficially claimed as their own. 

The woman was elegant, though not a member of one of the Noble families as she wasn't recognized by the Queen's daughter. The mysterious visitor was aimlessly looking through the discarded papers on one of the studies, specifically her study. 

''Can I help you?'' The Earis asked, her tone polite but tinged with authority. 

The woman flinched, somehow not having heard the doors open. She turned to face her, plastering a polite, but flushed, smile. ''Uh, sorry, my, uh, Earis.'' She curtsied, quickly letting go of the papers. 

The heir frowned, taking a few steps closer. ''May I know who you are?'' 

The woman straightened, composing herself. ''I am Lyanna, my Earis.'' She replied. 

Her name didn't ring a bell, and she frowned even deeper. ''And what are you doing in my library, Lady Lyanna?'' 

Lyanna hesitated, glancing nervously at the scattered papers. ''Uh, I am waiting here for Sarl Zaros, my Earis. He mentioned this was where he often studies, and he invited me here.'' 

The Earis' eyes narrowed slightly, growing suspicious. ''Invited you here? For what purpose?''

Lyanna grew uncomfortable with the royal woman’s gaze on her, though she remained collected. ''To show me it. He spoke very high of your personal collection, my Earis, and I wanted to see it myself.'' 

She nodded in response, though there was still a question lingering in her mind. ''How do you know Sarl Zaros, if I may ask?'' 

''We are betrothed, my Earis.'' 

The words struck her like a blow. His betrothed? Zaros nor his mother had made any mention of his potential future consort. The Earis struggled to maintain her composure, her mind racing with the implications. 

''I see,'' she finally said, her voice steady but more cold than before, ''I was not aware of such an arrangement.'' 

''It is a recent development, my Earis. Our families have a long history together.'' Lyanna clarified. 

The Earis momentarily glanced away, before looking back at her. ''Be that as it may, but this is a private study area. Only those directly involved in the trials are permitted to use it.'' 

Lyanna's smile faltered. ''But Zaros-'' 

''Is this Zaros' library?'' The heir interjected sharply. ''Are these paintings of Zaros' deceased family members?'' She pointed at the portraits of former rulers and consorts of Serulla, all of them Ilves descendants. 

Lyanna's eyes widened slightly, and she vehemently shook her head. ''No, my Earis.'' 

''Then, Lady Lyanna, you understand why you cannot be here,'' the Princess continued, her tone unyielding as she motioned her arm to the exit, ''unless you wish to take the throne as well, you may leave now.'' 

Lyanna's face flushed, and she curtsied once more. ''Of course, my Earis. My apologies for the intrusion.'' 

As the woman walked past her, the Earis couldn't help but feel a mixture of satisfaction and confusion. She had asserted her authority, but the revelation of Zaros's engagement lingered in her mind. 

Just as Lyanna exited, Zaros entered the library, his expression shifting to one of concern as he saw his betrothed leaving. ''My lady, why are you leaving?'' He briefly stopped her. 

''Sarl Zaros. The Princess informed me this is a private study area. I did not intent to intrude.'' She quietly explained, barely able to look him in the eye. 

''You're not intruding, i invited you here.'' Zaros retorted, sending his competitor a glare, though she was already picking out a new book to read, not sparing the couple a glance. 

''No, the Princess is right, Sarl Zaros. I shall take my leave.'' Lyanna brushed his words off, not risking going against the word of the daughter of Queen Roena. 

Zaros nodded. ''My apologies for the inconvenience, my Lady. I'll meet you later.'' His tone softened. 

Lyanna nodded, casting a quick, nervous glance at the Earis before making her way out of the library. 

The Atha'lin heir's jaw clenched as he turned around and made his way over to his desk, not pleased one bit by what he had just been told. He placed his books and notebook down with a bit more force than necessary. ''Do you get pleasure out of showing off your authority?'' 

The Earis turned from the bookshelf, her expression cool and composed. ''Sarl Zaros, this is my private study and library. The only reason you are allowed in here is because of my mother. The least you could do is respect the rules that were set in place.'' 

His eyes flashed with frustration. ''Lyanna was not causing any harm. She wanted to see the library so I invited her.'' 

''That does not change the fact that this is a restricted area. She could have been a hired assassin for all I know.'' She retorted. The Earis' eyes briefly widened with joy as she found the book she needed. She slowly walked over to her desk, wary about getting closer to the agitated man sitting at the bureau next to hers. 

Zaros stood stiffly by his desk, his frustration evident as he watched the Earis approach with deliberate calmness. ''A hired assassin? I understand your concern for security, but Lady Lyanna is not a threat. You simply wanted to demonstrate your power as heir.'' 

His words hit a nerve, stirring defensiveness within her. She took a measured breath as she sat down, her tone steady but tinged with restrained emotion. ''This is not about power. It's about protecting the sanctity of this space. I do not know her so how would I know if she is a threat or not? I don't judge based on looks.'' 

Zaros' head shot up at her words, his signature smirk making its way onto his face. ''Not know her? She's the youngest daughter of the Featherstone Family. The daughter of one of Serulla's highest-respected sailors.'' 

It was clear to him that her surname was still not clearing up the confusion on Lyanna's identity. 

''She is Rena's younger sister. You know, Rena? The girl you got suspended from the Academy after falsely blaming her for burning your curtains, even though you had burned them yourself?'' 

The grin on his face infuriated her. She knew how much gratification the man received from mentioning the mistakes she made in her youth. ''I did not realize. I didn't connect Lyanna to Rena Featherstone.'' 

''Of course you didn't,'' he bit back immediately, ''you were too preoccupied embarrassing her.'' 

''I did not embarrass her, I handled it as I saw fit. I enforced the rules. If that embarrasses her, then perhaps you should have informed her of them beforehand.'' She shot back, not appreciating his observation. 

Zaros's smirk faded at her rebuttal, his expression hardening slightly. ''Do not blame me now. I am fascinated by this library, and I simply wanted to show it to her. It is not my fault you got in before me.'' 

''I understand your fascination with my library, but I would appreciate a warning before I find another one of your… courtesans here.'' She replied coolly, her tone measured. 

''She is my betrothed, not a prostitute.'' Zaros replied firmly, his voice tinged with a hint of defensiveness. 

''Sorry, I couldn't tell, given your history.'' The Earis raised an eyebrow. She didn't know why she was acting so petty, she just couldn't help but let the subtle insults roll off her tongue. 

Zaros gave her a hard look, clearly biting back on whatever comment was brewing in his mind. He shook his head, letting out a sarcastic chuckle. ''I am not engaging in this. I won't let you push my buttons or insult my betrothed. I will see you later… my Earis.'' 

He got up from his chair, taking his books with him as he took big strides towards the library doors, disappearing back into the halls of the castle. 

The Earis watched Zaros leave with a mixture of frustration and regret settling in her chest. She knew she had crossed a line with her remarks, letting her emotions get the better of her. He always seemed to have that effect on her, she couldn't properly think around him. 

She tried to erase it by focusing on her books, but the interactions she just experienced kept gnawing at her. She wondered where this sudden betrothal came from, and why she hadn't been informed about it. 

Her mind churned with questions and suspicions. She decided she needed more information about Lyanna Featherstone, and there was only one person who could help her discreetly. 

Argil. 

He has been one of her mother's most trusted confidants, and the man knew everything about everyone. Besides his formal role within the monarchy, he'd filled a void for the young Earis in the absence of her own father.  

The walk to Argil's study was not a long one, so she did not have much plan to rehearse her words, but as Zaros liked to remind her, she had a knack for convincing. 

She found the older man right where she thought he would be; behind his bureau, surrounded by stacks of scrolls and books. The room has always smelled of aged parchment and ink, a testament to Argil's dedication. 

"Argil," she greeted him with a bright smile, ''may I have a word?'' 

He looked up, his sharp eyes softening as he saw her. ''My Earis. How may I help you?'' 

She closed the door behind her, ensuring their conversation would remain private. ''So I was just in the library, and when I walked in there I met Lady Lyanna Featherstone.'' 

''Ah, Sarl Zaros' betrothed.'' Argil noted. 

''Yes,'' she grimaced, ''she seemed very interested in my desk, and I didn't immediately recognize her so I asked who she was, and-''

''I'm sorry, my Earis,'' Argil interjected her rambling, ''interested in your desk? In what way?'' His expression grew more serious. 

''Oh, she was looking through the papers that were lying on my study,'' she shrugged lightly, pretending it was of little consequence, ''anyway- I asked her who she was, and-'' 

''I'm sorry to interrupt again, my Earis, but that does not sound appropriate. Your study materials are private and should not be handled by outsiders.'' He frowned, his concern evident. 

The Earis waved her hand dismissively. ''I'm sure she was simply enamored by my calligraphy.'' 

Argil shook his head. ''Curious or not, we cannot allow anyone to go through your personal documents, especially during such a crucial time as the trials. Was she with anyone before you walked into the library?'' 

She feigned a moment of thought before answering. ''No, she was alone. I didn't see anyone else around.'' 

Argil's frown deepened. ''This is quite troubling, my Earis. I will need report this to the judges, the Queen's Council and your mother.'' 

"Well, if you think it's necessary..." she trailed off, pretending to be uncertain. 

''It most certainly is,'' he replied firmly, ''thank you for bringing this to my attention, my Earis.'' 

''No problem, Argil. I appreciate your diligence.'' 

''Was there anything else you wanted to share with me?'' He stood up from his desk, his full attention on her. 

She shook her head. ''No, I will leave you be, and let you do what you need to do.'' The Earis said, standing now as well. 

Argil nodded solemnly. ''Thank you, my Earis. I will handle this matter promptly and discreetly.'' 

As the Earis turned to leave, Argil spoke again, his tone gentle yet serious. ''My Earis, If there is anything else concerning you, do not hesitate to come to me.'' 

She nodded in acknowledgment, though slightly caught off guard by his unprompted invitation. ''I will, Argil. Thank you.'' 

She knew deep inside as she made her way over to her chambers that she shouldn't feel proud of what she had just done, but it was comforting to know that Argil still fell for these traps after all the years he had been working with their family. 

The Queen's daughter had set the wheels in motion, and now it was only a matter of time before the consequences unfolded. 

Later that evening, as the Earis sat in her chambers, ready to unwind for the night, a knock at her door pulled her from her thoughts. The only person she would expect this late in the day would be her mother. She got up and opened the door, only to find Zaros standing there. 

''Zaros-'' 

''Have you completely lost your mind? Banning Lyanna from the castle?'' He interjected her, exclaiming his discontent with fury. 

She looked up, startled by his sudden appearance and tone. ''What are you talking about?'' 

"Don't play dumb with me," he snapped, stepping into the room, ''you reported her to Argil, who then questioned her like she was some common thief in front of the entire Queen's Council and the judges!'' 

The Earis stood, trying to maintain her composure despite the fire in his eyes. ''First of all, I didn't report her to Argil. I was talking to him about my day, and then mentioned that I ran into her and that she looked very interested in my study desk. It's not my fault that he saw something wrong with that.'' 

''You manipulated him into reporting it!'' He raised his voice, his frustration boiling over. 

She narrowed her eyes, her own temper flaring. ''Manipulated? I simply stated what I saw. None of this would have happened if she minded her own business, and left my property alone.'' 

Zaros took a step closer, his anger palpable. ''You know damn well what you were doing. You wanted to get rid of her, and you used Argil to do it. I was a fool to believe you had changed, that you had matured these last 8 years. You're even worse than I thought.'' 

''You don't know anything about me, Zaros- and I'm tired of you claiming that you do. Like you say, it's been 8 years! You have changed, I have changed. We're not fucking kids anymore so let it go!'' 

Zaros's eyes flashed with fury. ''Let it go? How am I supposed to let it go when you keep pulling these stunts? Yes, we aren't kids anymore, but you're still playing these same petty games as if you were a juvenile. You can't stand it when you're not in control.'' 

She crossed her arms, her voice icy. ''Petty games?'' The Earis gasped. ''A woman that I don't know was peeking through my personal belongings. A woman that happened to be your betrothed, so a woman that your mother meticulously picked out for you. I don't trust your mother, so I don't trust her. I am protecting the integrity of these trials. If you can't understand that, then…'' She trailed off. 

He took another step towards her. ''The integrity of the trials? That's what you are protecting? The only thing you are protecting is yourself and your throne, by making me and my family look like people that would do espionage on the Royal Family.'' 

''I didn't have to make anything look like espionage, Zaros. I caught her in the act, what was I supposed to think?'' She retorted. 

''Maybe you could have thought for a second that not everything is a conspiracy against you, that not everyone is out to sabotage you. Lyanna was just curious, genuinely interested in what you were working on, and you made her out to be some criminal.'' 

The Earis' eyes narrowed. ''Why are you defending her? If the roles had been reversed, you and your mother would have done the exact same thing.'' 

''Because she is- well, was my betrothed, and I know she doesn't have ill intentions. You on the other hand.'' He glanced away from her for the first time. 

''I have ill intentions? That is vile, Zaros,'' she shook her head, ''you still think so little of me.'' 

Zaros turned back to her, his eyes filled with frustration and a hint of something more vulnerable. ''It's not that I think little of you. It's that you cannot stand the idea of me being betrothed while you sit alone with your fantasies in your quarters.'' 

The Earis' eyes flashed with indignation. ''How dare you. This has nothing to do with jealousy. I was protecting my privacy and the principles of the trials.'' 

''It has everything to do with jealousy! You can't bear the thought of me having someone else by my side while you keep everyone at arm's length.'' He responded, his voice raising in volume. 

''That is false!'' She yelled, not caring one bit about who might hear her. ''You have no idea what it's like to be in my position!'' 

''And you have no idea what it's like to be in mine!'' He retorted, matching her tone. ''To be treated like an outsider, to have to fight for every scrap of respect.''

''You don't think I have to fight? That I don't have to prove myself to people like you who think I don't know anything about life simply because I am the Queen's daughter.'' She shouted. 

''At least you have a clear path, I have nothing but what I've clawed my way to.'' Zaros snapped once again. 

She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. ''You think I wanted any of this? I never asked for these Trials, or to be scrutinized like this. It was your family who made all of this happen, Zaros!'' 

Zaros' face contorted with a mix of anger and pain. ''You think I wanted any of this? You think I want these Trials? You think I want to marry her?'' He suddenly exclaimed. ''I don't want to marry her, okay! I don't want her to be my consort, I don't want anyone to be my consort.'' 

The Earis was at a loss for words, never having seen him like this. His usual confident demeanor was gone, replaced by raw emotion. 

''I didn't- my mother, she…'' He trailed off, unable to finish his sentence, not seeming to know where it was going anyway. 

''Zaros?'' She said softly, her voice having quieted down. 

He sighed at hearing his name, a deep, weary sound that seemed to carry the weight of years. ''I do not want this. I was not born for this. You were,'' Zaros finally managed to look her in the eye, ''this is your birthright.'' 

''Zaros, what are you saying?'' Her voice trembled, her heart pounding in her chest. 

''I do not desire the throne, I never did,'' he confessed, ''I thought I wanted it.'' 

There was a long pause between them, neither knowing how to properly proceed with the conversation after Zaros' admission. 

''Then why did you accept?'' 

''I could not let my mother down, not after everything she has done for me and our family. I could not say 'no' in front of an entire room of Nobles and the Queen. I would have made us look like fools.'' He rambled, his hands flying up. 

His competitor watched him, her heart aching at the sight of his turmoil. ''You could have told me.'' 

''And what would you have done then?'' He asked right away. 

''I don't know,'' she admitted, ''I would have told my mother, or- or Argil.'' 

''Oh, great,'' Zaros sarcastically remarked, ''you would have told the two people who would have just taken advantage of it. Great idea, your Highness, amazing.'' He rolled his eyes. 

The Earis felt a surge of frustration. ''I am sorry that I do not have the perfect solution for your hypothetical problem, Zaros.'' She bit back. 

A tense silence fell between them, the weight of their words hanging in the air. The room seemed to shrink around them, the air thick with unspoken emotions and unresolved conflict. 

"Just forget it," Zaros muttered, shaking his head, "forget I said anything." He turned and walked towards the door, opening it and not sparing her a glance as he left. 

"Zaros." The Earis called after him, but he didn't stop. He kept walking, his footsteps echoing in the hallway. 

She longingly stared at his disappearing figure, her hands covering her face. ''Fuck…'' she muttered under her breath. The young woman waltzed back into the safety of her room, though it felt haunted by the revelations that had just taken place. 

[walaskart]

Those Green Eyes

Summary: Loki reaches out from beyond the timelines.

Loki x Reader (No use of Y/N)

A/N I'm just trying to get out of my writing slump so I'm writing the first thing that comes to mind: my darkling Loki <3 Will there be a second part? Hopefully! I want to do it from Loki’s perspective. Also yes, this is cheesy because I like cheesy. Love y'all.

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

He came in your dreams, disappearing the second your alarm startled you awake, reminding you of reality. Your life began to feel distant, like there was a part missing only those mischievous green eyes could fill. You rose from bed, rubbing your eyes and trying to grasp on to that laugh you heard last night as you slept. You can’t remember when it started, only how you felt the first time you felt his presence as you slept. As you make your morning coffee, you try to piece together the vague details you could still remember; long, ink black hair, long fingers, his fleeting laugh, those sparkling green eyes. His name. You knew his name it was on the tip of your tongue. L-

Later. Right now you had to focus on what's real, so you walk back to your bedroom, ignoring your unmade bed and picking out an outfit for another day at the antique bookstore you worked at. You picked a simple pink sweater and jeans, too heavy for the summer weather but perfect for the air conditioned store. Now finished with your mug of coffee, you grab your bag with everything you meed for the day and prepare to leave your apartment to start your walk to work.

As you walk down the busy streets of your tourist filled town, suddenly every person you saw reminded you of him. 'Those cheekbones look familiar' 'Those are his lips' 'That’s his hair'. Your eyes dart from person to person, trying to puzzle together the man in your dreams, almost like a collage of features. Though none of them had his eyes. Those effervescent green eyes. Tonight, you think to yourself, I'll look more closely.

Your whole shift, you're head is in the clouds as you answer questions and check out books. You've had dreams of strangers before, but why did he keep reappearing? Why is he stuck in your head? And why can't you remember? You interrogate yourself over and over until your shift ends, looking forward to crashing in bed and see his face once again.

By the time you get home and finish your dinner, you're ready for sleep, somehow feeling closer to him than usual. After your shower, you lie in bed and get as comfortable as you can and feel yourself drift into sleep. I'll see you soon, L-

Your eyes open, taking in your surroundings. Every night it's somewhere different, tonight you're in a field of grass and wild flowers. You look down to see you're wearing a green slip dress and no shoes. You feel the wind rush through your hair and everything returns to you. You remember.

"Loki!" You call, and begin running. You don't know where you're going but you know you'll find him. "Loki!!"

And suddenly there he is. Sitting under a tree in a loose green shirt and black pants, he hears your calls and looks to you with those beautiful green eyes. As he stands and smiles, Loki opens his arms for you to run into.

“My darling,” Loki chuckles as you are enter in his embrace and suddenly you remember every night you've spent with him now. Sitting together, sometimes talking, sometimes not. You remember his stories; his quest for a throne, his family, his adventures, his ending. You remember him listening to your stories of your bookstore in Salem, your search to adopt the perfect cat, your current novel you’re reading. You remember the places he’s taken you in your dreams; any place on Earth you ask for, Asgard, Yggdrasil. Every place was empty, except for the two of you. When you asked, Loki explained none of it was real, just him projecting an image into your dreams.

Tonight, there was no adventure, no stories. Just you and Loki resting in each other’s arms under the tree.

“Good morning, darling.” Loki chuckles and kisses the top of your head. You hear your alarm, quietly at first but slowly growing louder.

As Loki runs his hand through your hair, you think it’d be okay to forget every morning as long as each night you come back to this.

You look up at him and smile. “Until tomorrow night, Loki.”

As long as you come back to those beautiful green eyes.

[zaceouiswriting]

Fairy Prince - Hearts of Leviathans - Ch.30

Character: Sky x male reader, Riven x male reader, Brandon x male reader

Universe: Somewhere in Winx Club/Saga

Warnings: None

It is my honor to reveal what I think Riven should look like. I hate him in the Netflix series because he looks sickly or as if he is a junkie. I would also like to say that I have no idea who this gentleman is or why his trainer slaps him around so brutally, but honestly, if I were Riven's teacher, I would do the same.

As the hour with Palladium ends, he asks me to stay behind. Several girls, clearly on Stella's side, smirked as they seemed sure I would be reprimanded for my outburst. Nevertheless, I stay behind and wait until everyone leaves. Only then do I rise from my throne, raise my hand, and clench it into a fist. Suddenly the throne disappears, as the stones were formed by pure magic instead of the environment. I've never been able to do this before, but since the other cores were taken out of me, I feel so much energy pulsing through me that I just had to try it.

“I see you are learning quickly,” Professor Palladium commented on my performance, smiling.

I'm already exhausted, even though it's still early in the day. Right now, all I can do is roll my eyes. "Please just tell me what you want to talk to me about. I'm not in the best mood, and honestly, there's nothing I want more than to sleep right now."

The older man nods understandingly. He walks around his desk and leans against it, barely sitting on it since he is relatively tall. "You can't blame them forever-"

"I can," I interrupt him. "There has not been a single apology, and as I have already promised, I will treat them the same way they treated me until I receive that apology."

The man sighs heavily and wipes his face. "I'm unsure if you understand the possible repercussions, but many of these fairies are princesses and future queens."

"With all due respect, Professor. I understand that fact. The problem, however, is that none of them seem to understand that I, too, will soon be ruling. I'm just waiting until my old grandfather finally dies, and then everyone will see what they did wrong."

“What does that mean?” he asks skeptically.

"For example, I want to see how Solaria harvests its food without tools or how Eraklyon makes weapons without its ore." I grin at the old man, who, like the others, doesn't seem to know where I'm the crown prince from.

I walk away, feeling like our conversation is already over, and walk past Palladium, who is visibly speechless. To my surprise, I see someone standing outside the classroom. She looks up at me with her green, gentle eyes and a cautious smile on her lips. But she seems surprised at me, smiling back.

We walk to our next class in silence. Either she feels guilty for what happened or she must have smelled that I wanted to go somewhere else because this whole class environment makes me sick. I'm just not used to sitting around for so long doing nothing but trying to remember shit; I'll probably never get used to it again.

Although I feel uncomfortable in the classroom, Professor Palladium's classes are quite interesting; brewing potions can always be useful, especially to make my home world fertile again someday.

As soon as we enter the next classroom, I turn around. If she hadn't caught me by the arm, I would have been out of there in a flash.

"Excuse me, sir. I've heard of you." A small woman with prematurely gray hair and a red hat interrupts my storming thoughts. "My name is Professor DuFour, and I teach etiquette, usually to princesses and other noble ladies, as well as all female fairies, as their work often has a diplomatic undertone."

I close my eyes for a second to gather all my willpower, turn around again, gently take the girl's arm from mine, and step forward, directly in front of the professor. "May I ask your rank, professor?"

She seems nervous but still tells me she is a countess. I nod absentmindedly as I look at her sympathetically and noticeably relax. Instead of stiffening when greeting someone superior, I simply extend my hand. Without hesitation, she lays her hand on mine. I gently stroke the soft back of her hand, lift it, and press a kiss to it without breaking eye contact. "It is a great pleasure to introduce myself to you, Countess DuFour; my name is (Y/N), Prince (Y/N), if you wish."

Her pink eyes sparkle at my introduction, and I even see her cheeks begin to glow a similar color. Her mouth opens, but nothing comes out—clearly just a reaction. It's not the first time a woman has reacted to me like this. I've always been very popular with both genders.

As I slowly lower our hands and a moment later release hers, I look around. Every face I see is stunned. Maybe it's because I introduced myself impeccably like a true nobleman or because I mentioned my rank. Although I hope not many people heard it because that would only complicate matters.

The professor compliments me but tries desperately to downplay it with a noticeable cough. Although I'm not as smart as my younger brother Galan, I was still raised like a prince and was always better than everyone else at everything that didn't involve stupid books. Galan can't even talk to other people without stumbling over his words.

After a few minutes, she has collected herself again. "It's good that we have a handsome young man with impeccable manners. Please ladies introduce yourselves to him one by one, as if you met at a ball, just like we have been practicing for the last few weeks."

Her words don't immediately sink into my mind. But when it does, my head slightly snaps in the professor's direction. Although I smile widely, inwardly I'm burning with a fury I can't contain. Even though I promised to treat them like they treated me, it could affect my grade. So I take a deep breath and take a moment to collect my thoughts.

Once I've gathered my willpower, I let my smile fade slightly to make it seem more genuine. I straighten up, standing strong and proud. Extending my hand, some of the girls seem almost exuberant, while others are still wary of me.

A girl with dark blue hair steps forward first, bending down in front of me, feet crossed, body stretched straight forward, bowing to me, and lifting an imaginary dress with her hands. Her form is pretty good, I'd say. I hold my hand out to her, and she comes up from her bow. As I look into her eyes expectantly, she blushes slightly. "My name is Musa," she tells me breathlessly. "I am the future guardian fairy of the Kingdom of Melody."

She puts her hand in mine, and unlike with Countess DuFour, I lift her hand halfway up to me, and the rest of the way I bend down to kiss the back of her hand. My other hand is behind my back, my left hand slightly bent, the greatest bow I can make to a person of no rank. Yet, when we both look up, we end up pretty close.

"A girl with a beautiful voice like yours shouldn't be this nervous. Be more sleek." Her blush deepens, but as I look around cautiously, I know I have to hurry. "Please excuse me, Lady Musa, but unfortunately I still have to greet a few more ladies"- I discreetly make a hand half-moon movement only in her sight to emphasize my words- "but don't be discouraged; I will never forget our first eloquent meeting."

After giving her hand a light squeeze, I turn away from her and greet the next girl next to me.

Most of the other girls were not that remarkable, rather average or unwilling to greet me. All of them were around Stella, except Musa, who had already greeted me and the red-haired girl. But the moment the latter is about to come toward me, Stella pulls her back and quietly reprimands her. 

Almost immediately after Stella finishes her tirade, the red-haired girl looks at me apologetically, which I wave off with a smile.

The professor wasn't happy about the incident; perhaps she had not been there when I arrived at Alfea. At least her friendly behavior suggested that. She apologizes for the girls' behavior toward me, but it's not her fault.

After leaving DuFour's class, the rest of the day is mostly a blur. However, I'm starting to feel like I overreacted earlier, but I'm not going to apologize for it because they're just presumptuous little girls.

When class is finally over, I stumble back to my room and fall onto the bed to take a quick nap. Until suddenly someone shakes me. Dazed, I turn around only to see Riven's stupid face way too close.

“Dude!” he shouts, almost deafening me. “What are you doing here?”

“What do you mean?” I ask sleepily, wiping my eyes.

For a moment, it's completely silent. Riven looks almost like he's desperately wanting to vanish into the ground. His behavior confuses me, so I punch him in the side, which seems to work because he shakes his head and carefully steps back. Quickly, his pale cheeks flush with embarrassment.

“What’s wrong?” I inquire further, still not fully awake.

Riven clears his throat and turns away. "Afternoon classes are over, and the teachers asked where you were because they wanted you to show off some of your fighting techniques and asked me to find you." He shifted nervously in place, which made me wonder what was wrong with him. "A red-haired chick told me she saw you strolling back to our room, and then I found you sleeping so peacefully I didn't want to wake you, but then some hair fell in your face and-„

"And you were my knight in shining armor who got the offending hair out of my face, right?" I ask him cheekily, interrupting him mercilessly even though I'm still half asleep. After a moment, I slowly sit up, grinning one-sidedly at him.

"I-I mean..." His violent stutter is followed by silence. His cheeks turn even redder. It suddenly hits me.

My one-sided grin turns into a full smirk. I move quickly, grabbing Riven's tight uniform and tugging on it. He stumbles, forcing me to fall back into my pillows as well, his arms on either side of my head, his breath mingling with mine.

"I knew it!" I whisper. Riven could only raise her eyebrows in confusion, or perhaps fear. "You think I'm hot," I state. "Are you a little into guys, Riven?" With my other hand, I trace his sharp jawline, which looks great with his long, diamond-shaped head and perfectly styled hair. If he wasn't such a psychopath, I would have pulled him even closer to me.

Riven, however, makes no attempt to escape me. His eyes dilate, and he sensually runs his tongue over his lips.

I feel my body getting warmer, my stomach tightening, and my hands starting to sweat. Before I know it, all I can think about are his lips. However, when I realize what situation I have created, I quickly push him away, sit up, and soon find myself standing next to him.

"Sorry," I murmur meekly. "I didn't mean to force you to admit something you're uncomfortable with."

Riven stares at me with an indescribable expression. I can clearly see the deep conflict within him, as his indigo eyes reflect the storm that seems to consume his mind. He shifts nervously as if he's trying to make a decision. Somehow I'm afraid of this because when a psychopath like him has to make a decision, nothing good can come of it.

I try to sneak away and quickly get to the door. Even as I reach for the doorknob, Riven is still staring at me, torn, but seemingly far away in his own little world.

As I open the door, it suddenly squeaks something that should never have happened since it is made of magic. The squeak wakes Riven from his lethargy. With a few quick movements I barely notice, he is at my side and pushes me against the door, slamming it back shut.

My breath catches in my throat. His proximity and the strong scent of lavender make me dizzy. Combined with his long, rough hands tracing my body and his muscular chest pressing me against the door, I feel my resolve slowly crumbling.

"Riven," I barely press out. But it seems enough, as his vision clears, if only a tiny bit. He shakes his head in confusion and then looks around. It takes him a moment, but soon he pushes himself away from me, nervously scratching the back of his neck.

A weak apology rolls past his lips as he quickly walks to his side of the room and exits through his door. Both his neck and ears were as flush as his cheeks. He leaves me pressed against my bedroom door, reeling from the aftereffects of his impulsive jabbing and unwelcome closeness. But was it really unwelcome? My heart hasn't beat this fast since him. That could be a good sign, or it spells total disaster. After all, I know better than anyone that I'll probably never get over him. We were meant to be together, but I ruined it. Although the memories don't hurt as much as they once did, I still feel the longing for him.

Why can’t things be easier?

I feel as if I'm slowly drowning in my long-suppressed grief. My knees are weakening. I am afraid of falling victim to the darkness in my heart again. I take a deep breath, gather my last strength, stand up, lean against the door, push away from it, raise my hands, and slap myself, not once or twice, but six times. I do it until I feel a burning sensation in both cheeks.

Maybe one day I can open my heart to someone new. Whether Riven can be that person is questionable, but he can at least help me heal my broken heart. Sky would normally be more my type since he is so much bigger; his docile, almost submissive behavior makes it difficult to see him as anything more than a loyal dog.

[Masterlist]

[rush-the-stars]

only

pairing: sukuna x half-curse f!reader (referred to as girl, daughter)

wc: a breezy 900 (unheard of for me)

cw: incest? it's not explicit but heavily implied. sukuna technically sired reader and she's a weird half-curse. but they're like non-human and kind of god-coded so. if that makes it better (it doesn't, you say? my bad then). use of "father" to refer to sukuna. toxic power dynamic.

a/n: um. look away. avert your eyes. etc. etc.

***

"do you think it's amusing to defy your nature? to defy me?" sukuna's voice echoes against cold stone, hanging in the air between you. sitting upon his throne, he is a god of death here, perched above the bones and rot of it all. the darkness whispers, slithering around you like phantom wings that brush your bare shoulders, your cheek. it could be the caress from a lover, the fading touch of a ghost.

"not amusing, no." you reply icily.

"do not take that tone with me, girl." he snarls, standing.

"not a girl," you reply bitterly, lifting your head, eyes glinting in the watery light. hardly human enough for that.

"don't test me." he snaps then. "and if you're going to stand at the foot of my shrine, address me properly."

"apologies, my lord."

in a blink, he is in front of you. thankfully, you are so accustomed to this, that you hardly flinch. except when he grabs your face in one, large hand. he squishes your cheeks. his claws arch around the bend of your ear, into your hair.

despite it all, you don't truly fear him.

his hold nearly shrouds your whole head and he pulls you up, closer to his dual-sided face. you lurch, scrambling to hold his massive wrist, to keep on the tips of your toes.

"that is not my title to you." his grin is feral, mean.

your eyes flash dangerously. your claws dig into his flesh—strangely you have always been able to mark him with little effort. ever since you were small, you were able to draw his blood.

"apologies, father." you spit.

(if you think about it, his own flesh rebelling, or perhaps—you, his only weakness.)

he lets you go and you drop like a stone, unceremoniously, and at his feet. you look up at him. the thin, slip of fabric you adorn swims around you in a glossy pool of ink. it falls from one of your shoulders.

"such disdain from my only daughter." he sighs, "such attitude."

his eyes—all of them—roam your form brazenly. the bare skin. the dips and curves of your body. you feel it the way a rabbit must know the feeling of teeth; sudden and frightening, and then altogether too late.

"such animalism from my only father." you hiss back like a little asp, "such—"

your voice catches.

he leers down at you, "such what?"

the word dies in your throat. you hate to name it, whatever he has for you, you hate to give it life. you hate that you can not, in such basic, human terms, encapsulate what he is to you. or you to him. you hate whatever this is. you hate what he is, or what you aren't. or could be.

you hate, hate, hate—festering with it, true to your name.

his very own little curse.

you hate most to let him win.

you turn your face away from him, chin up haughtily. "your lechery does not frighten me anymore."

"such a brave girl you've become." he laughs and suddenly all his arms are moving, reaching for you, and you've known them your whole life. he lifts you the same way he did when you were child. and now they linger, gripping the curve of your waist. the plump place of your thigh. "do you want me to praise you?"

"i thought i was here for punishment." you remind him, snippy and sharp, but careful to go lax in his grip.

when you fight and squirm, it excites him. so you play dead. you freeze like the rabbit, too.

he steadies you back on your feet. he stares at you for a long moment in a way that you cannot parse; all his eyes peering at you, prying at you, like they're trying to see under your clothes. under your skin. inside of you.

"for you, they might as well be the same thing."

he isn't even being cruel now, just honest. he's not leering at you. the frankness is worse, the honesty is damning. you lurch away from him, breaking the hold he has on you. your stomach turns. you bare your fangs at him, growling in warning, warbling like a curse.

he doesn't flinch.

"my praise of you feels like punishment to you, no?" he says lightly and you try to glare at him, but you fear horror is seeping through your expression.

he laughs again, rough. horribly fond.

"come," he says, turning away from you. he expects you to follow, "you reek of humans. you're done trying to live among them."

"you can't—"

"they'll never understand you. you will never belong to them." he says simply, and then he glowers, "and it's beneath you to try. come. i will not ask again."

he begins to walk. when you don't move, he looks over his broad shoulder, eyes darkening.

"they drove you out—they tried to exorcise you and i had to save you."

"it was only because of that six-eyes use—"

"i don't care. you should be ashamed and i should've finished the job for them since you are so weak—" he snarls.

(you—)

your head falls, chin dipping. perhaps in misery, maybe in surrender.

"now come, daughter of mine. you'll stay where you belong."

(—his only weakness.)

[cassiefromhell]

Unexpected (pt. 2)

Part One Edit: Part Three

Fanbase: acotar

Eris x Reader x Azriel

Summary: Reeling from the shock of discovering you have another mate, you realize that you need to tell Eris about your predicament.

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: suggestive

A/N: Requests are OPEN! Check my pinned message for details on what I'll write <3

I stare for a long, hard moment at this winged male.

He takes a step forward.

I take a step back, slipping my hand to my side, where a slim dagger is hidden under the flowing fabric of my skirt.

“This must be strange for you,” he murmurs, raising his hands slowly. “I know that you’re mated to Eris, but the moment you walked in, I could feel—”

I bare my teeth at him, fingertips grasping the handle of my knife. “Who knows?” Instinct has a snarl building in my throat. I’be worked my entire life to have a pretty, elegant, no-hitches mating ceremony, and this… odd… occurrence will not get in my way.

Hurt crosses his pretty face. “What do you mean who knows?”

“He must know,” I hiss, pointing to the first male—Cassian. Which means this one is… “Azriel. Who else have you told?”

“No one.”

“Good,” I release my knife, turning on my heel and working my way through the crowd. “Tell no more, and no one gets hurt.”

And I mean it. I’m a trained assassin. 

They let me leave without much struggle, but I am well aware of the shadows that are pooled at my feet, stalking my movements. The dancers let me pass easily, simply whirling and twirling out of my way.

I reach the doors in record time, grabbing a croissant to shove in my mouth on the way out. With a point of my index finger, the candle next to Eris’s throne on the dais lights up — our signal that something is wrong.

I stride out of the ballroom, heading straight for our bedroom. I only make it halfway there before I find myself in a storage closet, on my knees, unable to breathe. The shadows stopped following me just outside the door, and I can see where they block the light filtering in through the gap between the floor and the door.

Resting my forehead on the ground, I try to catch my breath and process what is happening. 

I start by listing what I know:

Eris is my mate.

I love Eris.

I am going to officially accept Eris as my mate tomorrow at 11a.m. during a brunch time mating ceremony.

There’s another male, an Illyrian, who is also my mate.

I think.

Shit.

A soft tug comes from the half-formed mating bond, snapping me out of my haze.

The only problem? I’m not sure which bond is being pulled.

My problem is solved quickly, however, as Eris’s soft voice cuts into my consciousness from the loose thread connecting us. 

Love? Are you alright? I see the candle, and I can’t find you.

I sit up straight, leaning against a wall. I left. I’m in some closet down the hall.

I’m on my way. What happened?

I bite my lip, suddenly realizing that I’ll need to inform Eris of this…mishap. 

I’ll explain when you get here. I really, really love you, you know.

He sends a feeling of pure, undeniable love down the bond. It means more than words.

Not even forty seconds later, the door is opened, and my ginger lover is striding to my side. 

“That was fast,” I murmur, leaning into him when he pulls me to his chest. “Like, really fast. How did you find me that quickly?”

“It’s the strangest thing,” he folds me into his lap, taking my place against the wall. “Azriel’s shadows followed you.”

My head snaps up at the name. “You know him?”

He nods. “We’ve collaborated on multiple things — the Hybern War and the human queen situation, to name a few.”

I remember him telling me about those stories. About the spy that he didn’t particularly like, and his companion, which he liked less. 

I burst into tears.

He sighs softly. “Little flame, what has you so upset?” He tucks my head against his shoulder, stroking my hair and lower back. His heart begins to pound, and he must be plotting how to brutally murder whoever’s caused this under his soft exterior.

“You’re going to hate me, Eris,” I sob, reaching up to knot my fingers in his hair. “Really, truly, hate me.”

“I could never, my love,” he coos, pulling me closer. “Now, what’s happened?”

“Something awful.”

“Did you… cheat on me?”

“What?” I burst, leaning back. I shift to be straddling his lap, hands on his shoulders. “I could never!”

“Then I don’t hate you,” his index finger reaches up to stroke my tears away.

“You might take that back,” I sniff.

Eris huffs a sharp breath, and places both hands on my hips. “Okay. My love, you need to tell me. I promise to not be angry.”

“You promise.”

“Of course. Pinky promise,” he offers a pinky, hand still at my hip.

I lock our fingers together, and blow out a long breath. “Okay, so, uhm… there’s a reason Azriel’s shadows are following me. I saw him for the first time at the party tonight. And it just… clicked. Eris, he’s my mate, too.”

He stills. Completely, and utterly still under me. 

An eternity passes. And then another. I’m certain that with every long minute of silence that passes, he’s adding to a plan to publicly execute me.

At least a bajillion years have flown by when he finally speaks up. “…The mother has a cruel sense of humor, doesn’t she?”

“I’m so sorry,” I suck in a breath, trying to muster the strength I need right now. “I don’t care for him. Not at all. I have no idea who he is, and he’s already stalking me,” I raise my voice at the end, and the shadows pooled beyond the door seem to scatter. “I love you. I do. And I want to go on with the mating ceremony in the morning. I’ve told him to tell no one.”

Eris nods slowly, thumbs rubbing my sides. “Try not to talk like that. If he’s—” he swallows hard, “…your mate… You deserve to have a chance to get to know him.”

“But I love you. You’re my mate.”

“He is, too.”

I groan, taking my bottom lip between my teeth. “Stop being the logical one. You’re supposed to be angry.”

“I am angry, believe me,” he growls. “But not at you. It’s not your fault, and you deserve the best shot at happiness you can get. Even if that means that I’m not the only one you love.”

I don’t respond, staring directly at his chest. I simply can’t look him in the eye. It’s difficult enough to face them with the sinking feeling in my chest, like I’ve betrayed him.

Would it be worth it to even entertain the idea of having another mate? I’ve never heard of it happening. 

In my heart, I am sure that I love Eris. But could I love this other male, too?

“In the end, it’s your decision, little flame,” Eris presses a kiss to my temple. “I don’t exactly like the situation, but I’ll do whatever it takes for you to be happy.”

“I love you,” I whisper, leaning forward against his warmth.

“I love you more.”

I grin, opening my mouth to reply, but he sweeps me up into his arms before I can make a sound. I squeal, gripping his neck to keep myself upright. 

“I say we go back to our party,” he announces, holding me close. “And dance until our feet fall off.”

“I’d be inclined to agree. You paid for really good food.”

He laughs, placing me on the ground and holding me to his side. With a wave of my hand, my tear-streaked makeup is repaired, and Eris tucks a few strands of hair back into place.

Together, we stride back into the hall, ready to face our guests once more — even if one of them may be my mate.

Eris and I have devolved throughout the night. 

We went from dancing, to talking to guests — avoiding the Night Court group like a plague — to eating, and now we’re drinking absurd amounts of wine with Lucien, High Lord Tarquin, and a few of the latter’s friends from the Summer Court. I think one’s name started with a C.

I’m on my… fifth? Sixth? I don’t know, but I’ve drank many glasses of Fae wine.

I’m seated next to Eris, our chairs pushed together so that I can rest my head on his shoulder.

“Why’d you two even leave earlier?” Tarquin asks, sipping his wine — he’s much more conservative, and has had far less than us.

“Do you need to ask?” Lucien hiccups. His hand flies up to cover his eyes. “Please, don’t ask. I don’t want to hear about my brother’s fuck life.”

Eris scowls, looking tempted to throw the glass in his hand at his younger brother. I take the glass out of his hand to prevent that scenario, patting his shoulder soothingly.

“Lucien,” I start. “I assure you, that is not why we left.”

“Then why?” Tarquin asks once more, gesturing to Eris and I. “You practically ran out, and two minutes later he was on your tail.”

I open my mouth, then close it. When I look up to Eris to make him conjure up a story, he has his eyes locked on something else.

Straightening, I follow his gaze. 

And lo and behold, Azriel Shadowsinger is standing there.

The Illyrian’s wings frame his broad shoulders, and his entire body looks rigid. His expression is unreadable, as I hear it always is. His attention is undoubtedly glued on me.

Next to him is Cassian, who was speaking until my eyes shifted to him.

I would go on to observe them further, but Eris pulls my face to his, and suddenly his lips are on mine, his hand rooted in my hair.

Perhaps Eris is bothered by this situation a little more than he was letting on.

Nevertheless, I’m not complaining, and I part my lips for him. His tongue makes sweeping moments through my mouth, eliciting little noises from my throat, my hands finding their way into his rouge locks.

“Ahem.”

I pull away just enough to glare at Lucien, the male making a gagging motion.

“Fuck you,” I laugh, taking a cookie and whipping it at his head. He ducks, then throws a scone right back.

Love? Eris purrs down the bond.

Hmm? I reply, glancing over at him.

What do you say we go back to our room? He tucks a piece of hair behind my ear. I think I could use a little practice for tomorrow. 

Practice, huh? I hum, shivering as he traces a finger down my spine.

He sweeps me up into his arms as a reply, and I laugh, wrapping my arms around his neck.

“We’ll see you in the morning, lovepixies,” Tarquin calls after us, followed by gagging noises from Lucien. A few of the summer court bunch laugh at the younger Autumn Court heir’s antics. Luckily, sneaking off together and public affection isn’t particularly uncommon in the days surrounding a mating ceremony — Fae culture.

His mouth is on mine once more as we make our grand escape, kissing me with the passion of the High Lord he is. My back hits a wall, followed by my legs being hoisted around his waist, skirt bunching at my hips.

I bite down hard on my bottom lip when his mouth trails down my neck. He leaves sloppy kisses and licks in his wake, hands trailing up along my spine.

A sharp tug on the bond comes, and I gasp sharply, eyes zeroing in on Eris. “What was that for?”

“Hmm?” He glances up at me, halfway to being on his knees. “What was what for?”

“You tugged,” I murmur.

“No,” he frowns, straightening. “I didn’t.” He places me back on the ground, his eyes narrowing around the corner. I’m not even sure if he’s aware of how he tucks me behind his back.

And, right on cue, Azriel Shadowsinger comes into sight.