#on a personal note what the fuck was that crown

[sleepynoons]

nagumo yoichi x gn!reader, sfw, not beta read

cw: slight suggestive content, explicit language

notes: wait if you catch several typos/grammar mistakes, that's not on me, that's on ellipsus for constantly glitching out today and preventing me from making edits. this is a drabble, too, and i don't proofread those oops. anyway, i thought it'd be funny if nagumo also got into a relationship the same way sakamoto and aoi got together. i also think it's hilarious that the npcs in this series don't give a fuck lol. nagumo also comes off as weird af at first LMAO wait this was kinda meant to satisfy my belief that nagumo has a sleeper build iykwim - wait i'm realizing there are several references + tidbits in this piece so it'd be funny if y'all catch anything hehe

"WELCOME!"

greeting customers is arguably the least rewarding thing about your job. most people who walk in ignore you, some even look annoyed, and you hate public speaking in the first place. you think you lose five minutes of your life every single time you raise your voice, and those five minutes have probably accumulated to years by now.

you sigh. it can't be helped. another part-timer recently quit, and you can't possibly let the manager of this convenience store, an elderly man in his 60s, take on additional night shifts when he's already handling the early mornings.

besides, there are some pros. since the store is located near a university and a residential area, there are familiar faces. there's a group of computer science students that often drop by, and they play the occasional harmless prank on you. there's also that mother-daughter pair that buys frozen taiyakis every saturday as a reward for the daughter for finishing her weekly violin lesson. and perhaps the most intriguing of them all is a man that pops by every three days around midnight.

he wears the same tan trench coat, along with a loose patterned button-up and black pants. before winter set in, he always went straight to the freezer to fish out a popsicle, bar already in his mouth as he walked over to pay, but in the past two weeks, he's been opting for a cup of hot coffee and small packets of candy instead.

it seems he's craving sour gummies today. with a swift swipe of your arm, you grab and scan the barcode on the back of the plastic bag, and type in the amount for his drink.

"your total's ¥600."

"no discounts for your most loyal customer?"

startled, you freeze, determined to avoid eye contact. you've had conversations with other customers before, but never with him. he's always left as quickly as he came, so you're caught off-guard by this unexpected interaction.

"u-uh, not this time, sorry. i can ask the manager if we have a loyalty program, if you want."

the man hums as he nods happily and hands you two ¥500 coins. his unbothered smile unnerves you a bit, so you count the difference and return the loose change in personal record time.

but he doesn't leave, and instead, asks, "any thoughts on getting hitched?"

your spit-take's almost comical, but the absurdity of the situation takes precedent. "w-what now?"

"one of my co-workers recently got married to a convenience store worker, so i'd thought i'd give it a try, too!"

you're practically shaking from how anxious and overwhelmed this person's making you feel. it doesn't help that he's clearly not disturbed at all, which almost makes you doubt your own ethics and gut instincts. but, the more you think about it, the more you're sure there's something wrong with this man and not you.

"i-i, uh, well, i'm not interested in-in getting married right now."

"oh, that's a shame! guess i'll try again tomorrow!

–

you wake up with a jolt, almost knocking the crown of your head into nagumo's chin. though, of course, there's no actual need to worry about that.

"hm, what's wrong?"

with a workbook on bayesian statistics in one hand, a pen resting on his ear, and his other arm folded behind his head, he looks down at you curiously. despite having just woken up, your head's never been clearer, and you sit up between his legs before looking behind your shoulder and shooting a glare at him.

you ask, "can i punch your face?"

nagumo laughs, probably already imagining your futile attempts. "sure! but can i ask why?"

"i dreamt about our first conversation, and it reminded me that you're kinda fucked up."

your boyfriend chuckles more, amused by your moral qualms. "you could say that."

the thought that your relationship is weird has never left you. you're (still) a simple convenience store cashier, and nagumo gets filthy rich by murdering people. you were never that interested in the world around you, having been too busy paying back student loans and applying to other jobs throughout your early adolescent years to care about other things, so when he told you about the JAA and the establishment of the assassin industry as a whole, you were shocked. but that's always as far down into the rabbit hole as you let yourself go.

from this view, with nagumo spread out before you, he doesn't look dangerous at all. ing, he resembles a nerdy graduate student, thanks to his obvious passions for mathematics and reading. moreover, his short-sleeved t-shirt exposes his tattoo-riddled arms, and the bottom of it has ridden up, giving you a pleasurable view of his hip bones and happy trail. in fact, when the two of you got into bed together for the first time (don't ask how he succeeded in seducing you), you were surprised by his physique. his outside clothes certainly don't do his abs or biceps justice.

anyway, the point is, he looks like your fantasy of a dreamy, hot, geeky boyfriend, not your local professional hitman-for-hire.

you sigh. you're not going to punch his stupidly attractive face. you lie back down onto his chest, burrowing your nose into the crook of his neck. you do let yourself get away with a pinch to his cheek.

then, you mutter, "don't hurt me."

"i won't," he chirps.

nagumo presses the knuckles of his free hand into the knots around your shoulder blades and flips his book back open.

he knows you mean more than in the literal sense.

[snowflakesnsundry]

Okay listen up nerds

i am so fuckin sorry ive been gone so goddamn long I've been a bit of a mess. I ended up losing my job but weirdly it's kinda been the best thing to happen to me in a while. It had gotten really unhealthy for me-which isnt the point of this post but...

I have just finished Loki seaon 2 and I gotta talk about it right now and in unreasonable depth

STARTING with the end.

Firstly, for any of you who have not read Jason Aaron's "King Thor" series. I reccommend you do right now.

When i started my fic I read every single Thor/ Loki comic i could get my grubby little hands on- and out of all of them, there was just one that tore my fucking heart in half- Aaron's King Thor run.

And I am not kidding when I say it's beautifully written- but I am also not kidding when I say this is exactly where our season 2 ending came from- just.... well.... look-

In the story, the God Butcher has swallowed the universe until only one singular star remains; dying and soon to flicker out. It can survive if there is something to re-start it. Something, or someone to provide it with power

FUCKING LOOK AT THE VISUAL PARALELLS IN THAT LAST PANNEL EVEN???

Honestly when the God Butcher showed up in Thor: Love and Thunder it made me nervous because of this ending, because it is heartbreaking and beautiful particularly within the context of the story-

-begin brief tangent-

-because heres the thing.

The Loki in the comics is not as kind and fuzzy as the one in the TV show and movies- the newer comic loki has taken a lot of ques from Hiddleston's Loki, but thats sort of the exception to the rule. In the comics he is constantly lashing out at thor with hate and anger and rage- its an inescapable centuries long cycle for them.

But even as Loki has betrayed Thor to the God Butcher, even as the universe is breathing its last breaths and fading into darkness... we get this:

These two brothers, enemies for countless lifetimes... in their last moments, they reach for one another until there is nothing left and i was INCONSOLABLE.

If you haven't read the Thor or the Loki comics, you dont have to read them all- but I do encourage you to at least read this one run. It's 4 "books" (and contains a lot from Aaron's run as a writer for Thor as this was his last series before moving on) but its worth it for this moment- particularly as it relates to the TV series

-end brief tangent-

Regardless, I think we have all heard about Hiddleston chasing Owen Wilson down to tell him every last thing about the Loki lore so I swear to god he knows about this and the fucking writers did this on purpose stg.

Anyway- the use of this particular plot was beautifully exicuted and we love the comics being blended into the MCU in such a lovely way.

I have more thoughts overall but this has been clawing at me all goddamn night and I had to share it with you all.

Watching has gotten me back to writing, and I hope to be back fully very soon.

<3

[scorpiosbite]

the time actress!reader mentioned obx in her interview

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 ────୨ৎ──── while the obx cast were together in drew’s hotel room madelyn in her ever obsession of game of thrones brought up that you had mentioned how much you love obx in an interview. causing them to watch the interview together.

𝜗𝜚 pairing: actress!reader x drew starkey

author’s note: this takes place in 2023 during the filming of obx 4 and 3 weeks after the first time they watched the show together. at this point of my timeline the cast have watched the entire first season of game of thrones.

drew was scrolling through his phone, you had followed him back on instagram a week ago and he was on the moon. though he hadn’t messaged you yet. unsure on what to say to you. drew prided himself on being a confident man yet, your ability to make him nervous through a screen was unprecedented.

while stalking your profile for the umpteenth time he found himself wondering about you yet again. your limited amount of posts made you even more intriguing to him. he wondered what kind of person you are. what things made you tick, whether you would stare up at him with those siren eyes, whether you moaned or whimpered during sex, whether your face scrunched up and your mouth hung open as your chest heaved like it did in your sex scene that hasn’t left his brain since the moment he watched it.

just as he fell into a spiral of thoughts about you madelyn spoke up from her seat across the room, drawing the attention of everyone else, and drew was suddenly reminded that he wasn’t alone in his room. “oh my fucking god! i forgot to tell you guys!” she was staring down at her phone. but drew was having trouble focusing on her, still consumed in his thoughts of you.

the others, however, had no problem driving their attention to her, so drew remained in his bubble staring at the most recent post on your profile, a vogue magazine cover from three months ago, of you, seated, legs spread on the iron throne with the sword dark sister held in your hands standing between your legs, the crown of aegon the conquerer tilted on your head, the lace thigh high socks with garters disappearing under the skirt of your tight mini dress and the bold red coating your lips enticing him further.

it wasn’t till he heard your name slip from madelyn’s lips, was his attention torn from the captivating sight on his screen. “wait, what you just say?” madelyn smirked “of course, only when i say y/n’s name, do you listen.” drew blushed lightly. but didn’t make the move to defend himself, after all they would be right, he had been distracted from the moment he saw you in all your glory stealing the screen.

“what i was saying that y/n mentioned obx in an interview, just pass me the remote, i’ll show you.” drew’s heart rate spiked, the thought of you having seen him in his element, doing his job, made him self conscious in a way that he wasn’t ready to admit. once madelyn had the video loaded on the screen, drew was once again struck by how effortlessly beautiful you are. dressed in simple black pants and an off-shoulder cream long sleeve top, brown boots disappearing under your pants and simple gold hoop earrings, your brunette hair loose and following in natural waves. drew looked at your empty neck and thought how good you would look if there was a necklace with his initial hanging there, branding you as his.

madelyn skipped through the video until the moment you were talking. the interviewer asked you and your cast-mate what shows you watch during your down time when filming, your voice rang through the silent room and drew was struck once again by how attractive your accent sounded, your british accent deep and sultry but more casual than the tone you use when playing visenya. “oh, well mimi and i love outer banks a lot, to the point where we quote it on set quite often. i think we’ve annoyed everyone.” you laughed and drew thought about how he wanted to hear that sound for the rest of his life.

your cast mate and best friend, mimi who plays arianne martell laughed and agreed and the interviewer who was surprised by your answer said that obx was one of her favourite shows too. your face immediately brightened as you watched her intently as she spoke about the show. what drew would give to have you look at him like that.

madelyn paused the video and drew knew that once everyone had left his room he was going to watch the entire video. “that’s so cool!” jd gasped. “i know right? that’s so crazy that she’s seen our show.” madison replied. but drew couldn’t bring himself to speak, he wondered what you thought of him after watching his performance. he wondered if you had the same all consuming thoughts he had about you, about him.

“i followed her when i first watched the show and she followed me back, but after seeing that clip a week ago i messaged her and we’ve been talking back and forth ever since, she’s so fucking cool, it’s insane. i think we’re friends now!” madelyn raved. “you’re friends with her?!.” drew was baffled, how was madelyn just bringing this up, she has known about his developing crush for weeks. “ah, now you want to chime in drew?” “yes, we’re friends and she’s gonna be in la when we get back so i told her she should come hang out with us, what you guys think?”

drew’s heart felt like it was going a mile a minute, he was gonna meet you. what the fuck.

thank you for all the love on the first part i’m so grateful. and for everyone who wants to be added to the tag list i’m figuring out how to do that so please be patient with me. also please send me asks about this au i would love to do like a drew starkey x actress!reader thoughts thing, but let me know what you thought of this part!

[andypantsx3]

IF YOU LET ME : TODOROKI SHOUTO x READER

SUMMARY: Disguised as a eunuch in the imperial palace, a mistake on your part leads to your unmasking before the prince. By rights it should mean your death, but Prince Shouto seems to have another plan in mind... CONTENT: Prince Shouto, AFAB fem reader, identity reveal, class differences, slight gender fuckery, historical sexism, implications of past sexual threats, vaguely Heian-era historical Japanese setting, deep historical inaccuracy, SFW (2.2k) NOTES: This was a barely-edited unplanned little thought demon I had to exorcise lol, thank you for being patient with me. Back to our regularly scheduled programming soon.

Your breast bindings were missing.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

You flipped your sleeping mat again, clawing through your blankets frantically, hoping you’d somehow missed them the first time. But only the tatami floor stared back up at you—strands of woven rice straw pale and bare.

You muttered a curse under your breath—you’d definitely forgotten to extract your bindings from where you’d shucked off yesterday’s robes, forgotten to squirrel them away before sinking into bed. And now they’d been whisked away by a palace maid to be laundered. Or worse, discovered.

Your eyes darted through your small sleeping chamber frantically, seeking a solution. You were already late for Prince Shouto’s first lesson of the day, and you needed all the time you could get with him today. You’d promised the Minister of Rites that you’d have a word with the prince, to try to persuade Shouto to accept the wife he was so persistently putting his advisors off on.

You were, after all, the prince’s closest confidant—his personal secretary and calligraphy tutor, an unthreatening eunuch from the lower classes with whom Shouto was clearly most at ease. And at least most of that was true—you did have Prince Shouto’s trust, friendship, and respect, as much as a member of the imperial family could bestow on a commoner, anyway.

If he was going to listen to anyone on the subject of taking a wife—at the very least one concubine, if not his future empress—it would be his trusted friend the eunuch.

There was just one very important detail that everyone, even His Highness, was mistaken about on that account.

One blasted detail that could get you killed at best were anyone to figure it out.

Your eyes fell back to your blankets, and you immediately grabbed two fistfuls, yanking as hard as you could until you felt the fabric give, the rip and tear echoing in the small space of your sleeping chamber. You kept ripping until a strip came free, a little smaller than what you usually had to work with.

But you were not about to complain, not at a time like this.

You flung the strip down to scrabble with the tie of your underrobe, unknotting it with fumbling fingers. You were just about to fling it off of you when there was a careful knock against the screen of your door.

You didn’t manage to stifle your reflexive scream, stumbling through a half-executed turn towards the door. The screen was suddenly thrown back with alarming force, Prince Shouto’s figure filling the doorway.

You yanked your shirt closed again, panicking, as you caught sight of the concern on his handsome face. You barely registered the other details, mind tripping over excuses, unable to appreciate the way his shoulders looked all the broader in his sokutai the way you normally did.

“Are you well?” Shouto demanded, his normally soft tone a little ragged. You watched his mismatched eyes dart quickly around your chambers, as if seeking a threat, only to drop back to you when there was none.

“Your Highness,” you said, lost for anything else.

“I heard—there was a scream,” he said, his eyebrows scrunching the tiniest bit.

He always looked his most beautiful when he was confused, you thought, focusing hard on a particular problem. Not that a common woman had any business thinking anything about the crown prince, never mind a woman masquerading as a man. But it was hard to ignore a face that beautiful, the way his gaze sharpened with focus, full mouth pursing as he thought through a problem.

He looked like that now as his gaze darted over you. And then suddenly his eyes dipped to your collarbone, and his features went perfectly, horribly still.

An elegant hand reached back, and he immediately drew the screen closed behind him, eyes never leaving you as he took another step into the room.

You stumbled back, almost tripping over your bedding. You did not dare to turn towards him or away, scuttling sideways instead like a nervous crab.

“Your Highness,” you began again, heart shooting into your mouth when Shouto’s long fingers tangled in your undershirt.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, his tone softening. You gripped your shirt closed as hard as you could against the tug of his fingers. “Did something happen?”

“N-nothing,” you stammered, not liking the way it made him clearly more suspicious. “I was just changing.”

But Shouto’s beautiful, cursed eyes dipped to your bedding, where the torn strip lay across your blankets in plain sight. You could almost see the calculation as his eyes widened the tiniest fraction, and his grip tightened on your robes. Of course he’d seen it, and of course it looked like a wound dressing you’d just been about to apply.

He took another step closer, too close, until you could feel the heat of him through your sleeve, smell the sweet blend of dried herbs the servants kept his clothing stored with.

You tried to twist out of Shouto’s grip without rucking up your shirt, but his hold was too strong.

“Let me see,” he ordered in his soft, low tone. Your heartbeat kicked up higher, hammering in your chest so hard it could have broken a rib.

It was a death sentence to ignore an order from a member of the imperial family. It was also a death sentence to reveal what you’d been these many years. You hoped Prince Shouto, something of a friend to you, would let you off lightly for ignoring him.

“Please, Your Highness,” you said, clinging even harder to the closure of your shirt. “I will be ready in just a moment, I am simply running late. I beg your forgiveness.”

But if there was one thing about the crown prince, it was that he was stubborn, bullheaded when it came to the ideas and goals he took seriously. And he had always made it clear he took your friendship seriously.

That perfect mouth shifted into a frown. “I order you to let me see,” he said, his tone still soft but firm. “You will let me.”

You froze under his hands, muscles locking up in panic. Shouto was still between you and the door, and your chambers were not wide enough for you to slip around him without him being able to easily catch you. He was also, unfortunately, extremely quick with sharp reflexes honed by years of swordsmanship. There would be no escaping this situation.

Fuck. Fuck, you were out of ideas.

“Hold still,” Shouto commanded gently, long fingers prying your stiff ones away from the shirt ties. You watched his face in mute panic, not wanting to see the flash of betrayal and disgust, but unable to look away as he prised your robes aside. Shame heated your cheeks.

Shouto’s long eyelashes dipped, before his gaze froze on your chest. For a second, he went as stiff as you. Then he was yanking your robes closed again, a watercolor of pink washing across the bridge of his nose and those high cheekbones.

His eyes darted back to yours, his expression perfectly still though his face was flushed. “You never told me,” he said accusingly.

The right thing to do in this situation was to go to your knees in a kowtow and beg for his mercy, but Shouto still had a grip on your robes and did not look like he meant to let go. You ducked your head in as much of a bow as you could manage, your face warm. “Your Highness, I have no excuse. I have betrayed you.”

When you had concocted this scheme, you had wanted to put yourself beyond the reach of a local official back in your home village. His advances were becoming increasingly aggressive, and as a common woman, you had no recourse. You could only escape into a place where his rule was circumvented by a superior one, where no man would think to have an interest in you.

You had not intended to become Prince Shouto’s tutor, had not anticipated the true risk of your gambit until it was already too late. But you would still rather die than be returned into the hands of your village’s preceptor.

If this is how it ended…

“I have compromised you,” Shouto’s voice startled you out of your memories.

You glanced up at him, befuddled.

Shouto’s fingers twisted in your robes. “Just now, and—all the many times we have been alone until now. I did not know.”

Honor and compromise were the least of your concerns right now, and would matter even less in the event of your death. You did not know where the prince meant to go with this.

“Your Highness, you were not expected to know,” you said, shame coiling in your belly. You would make the same choices you had made over again, if given the chance, but you had never meant to betray Shouto. You had genuinely liked him, and you would regret losing the chance to be by his side in the years to come.

Shouto’s eyes flicked over you in some kind of assessment. He lifted one hand from your shirt, gasping your scholar’s cap and tugging it free from your hair. You felt his fingers tangle so very gently in the strands of your hair, seeking out the ties and pins.

Your own eyes traced over him as he did, drinking in the firm planes of his chest in his sokutai, the dark blue a beautiful contrast with his pale skin. You heard pins dropping to the ground beside you, as Shouto rubbed a strand of your hair between his fingers. He seemed to be evaluating you in a new light, relearning your appearance though a clearer lens.

Disgust and betrayal were not evident in how delicately he was handling you. You did not know what this meant.

“They will put you to death if they know,” Shouto said, eyes slowly moving from the hair between his fingers to your face again. “You cannot hide like this forever.”

You did not know what other choice was to be had. If Shouto did not plan to put you to death himself, then what other choice did you have than to go on pretending?

Shouto’s gaze dropped to your mouth and you realized you’d spoken the thought aloud.

“There is one other way to put you beyond the reach of the court,” he said slowly.

You felt your eyebrows raise in question. “I cannot think of it, Your Highness.”

Shouto absently curled the strand of your hair about his fingers, the little crease between his perfect eyebrows appearing again. He looked the way he did when he played games with his strategy tutor, or when he was thinking hard on a new sword form.

“The ministers wish for me to take a wife,” Shouto said softly. “My household is mine to manage alone.”

Outside the laws of the court, he meant. A strange flutter went through you, heat spotting your cheeks again. Shouto’s presence before you was suddenly magnified a hundred fold, and you became singularly aware of the breadth and height of him, the heat of him almost against you.

“You do not want a wife,” you said, well aware of the many years he’d spent bullheadedly resisting the idea.

“I do not want any the ministers have selected for me,” Shouto corrected.

Your whole body felt flushed again. He meant he was amenable to you.

You had never let yourself think it but he was more than amenable to you as well.

“I would keep you safe,” he promised.

You almost slumped to the floor in relief, only Shouto’s grip on you keeping you upright. You would not die. You would not be returned to your village. You would, through all of this, it seemed, keep Shouto’s friendship.

“I know you would,” you said.

Shouto understood your acceptance. Slowly his fingers untwined themselves from your hair, and he drew your robes more firmly around you. Your body burned hot, still, stomach fluttering under his renewed brand of regard.

“I will arrange it quickly,” Shouto said. “You must stay here. I will send someone for you.”

You nodded.

Shouto looked regretful as he stepped back from you. “We will do it properly, later,” he said. “I will pay my respects to your family.”

You waved a hand frantically, shocked by the idea of the future emperor making his bows in your family’s rundown hut. It was not as though you would be his first-ranked wife or empress! He did not need to pay any respects to the family of a concubine out of a common family!

“There is no need,” you insisted, but Shouto was already turning towards the door. You could see by the set of his shoulders this was another thing he meant to be stubborn about.

“I will honor my first and only wife,” he said, turning to pin you with that heterochromatic gaze.

Your mouth dropped open in shock, but you had no time to reply before he was sliding the door closed behind him again, leaving you alone with the sudden weight of the statement. It had all happened so quickly, you had never expected that Shouto meant what he did.

You wondered what it meant that Shouto had made such a promise so readily, when he had known the truth about you for only minutes.

And you wondered if, like your original entry into the palace, you were getting yourself into something far beyond what you initially understood.

[katskitoshi]

I'M BEGGING FOR THE INAZUMA VERSION OF A FAVOR WITH A FAVOR 😭

"FAVOR FOR A FAVOR," with GENSHIN IMPACT.

synopsis: he helps you with something and it's only fair you pay him back, right? (mondstadt vers.) (liyue vers.)

characters (part one): dom! ayato, (modern au!)thoma, gorou, itto x gn! sub! reader

includes: massages, perverted behaviors, handjobs, blowjobs, face fucking, masturbation mentions, stuck in a washing machine, cumming outside, cumming inside, outdoor sex, marking, facials, knots.

note: can you guys tell i'm just winging it with these characters? haha, its been a while since i've played inazuma and i’m confident to say i don't think i've characterized them too well. please forgive me if they're too out of character. ^.^

ayato, the pillar of fortitude: a happy ending.

during your stay in inazuma, ayato is insistent on allowing you to stay at the kamisato residence and partake in many cultural and ceremonial events without spending a single mora from your pocket. even though he insists that you don't need to repay him, you're awfully insistent on returning the favor tenfold.

--it started as a massage. your hands had ran along his muscly back, arms, shoulders, and eventually his legs. you massaged his calves and thighs, aiming to get more and more stress out from his tense muscles. you drank is his soft gasps and little praises like a fine wine as your eyes continuously wandered upwards to his groin, covered my only a thin cloth.

your hands had stopped massaging and began to simply slide up and down his thighs as you imagined your hands on his cock instead. what would it look like? it was certainly big, for one thing. you doubted he was hard, but you could see the slight imprint of the appendage against the loin cloth he wore. would it be veiny, like his hands?

maybe he used a toy, or humped a pillow, though you didn't strike him as the type. what did he think about when he wrapped his hands around it? was it a person, a past fling, a future fantasy? what if he was thinking about you? what positions would he put you in? would he let you ride him? would he bend you over his work desk? maybe he'd fuck you right against the walls while one of his loyal servants was just outside the door. would he let you sit in front of him as he jerked off, making you watch and not touch him or yourself?

fuck, your thighs instinctively clenched together as you reached for his clothed cock subconsciously. you're snapped out of it as a veiny hand grabs your reaching wrist. "and what do you think you're doing?" ayato asks with a warm, yet condescending tone. you look up at him in shock, but desperation in your eyes. "i- nothing, my lord. please forgive me." you bow your head, but you don't feel any remorse. you want to see it, you want to feel it in your palm. warm, throbbing, and leaking over your fingers.

"it didn't look like 'nothing' to me, darling." through his bangs, his cold eyes look at the crown of your head and he smiles. you meet his frozen gaze with a gasp of surprise as you feel your hand touch his cock over the cloth. you look up at him, your own eyes clouded with lust and desperation, and he chuckles.

"isn't this what you wanted? to feel me?" he uses his hold on yoru wrist to guide yoru hand over the phallus, nearly fully erect. just feeling it, even with a piece of cloth separating the two of you makes your thighs clench even more, and your mouth open in a breathless whimper. "i know you want to repay your favor, so how about you do it this way, hm? i could really use a massage somewhere else,"

his hand no longer holds your wrist, and you jump at the chance you're given to remove the cloth. when you see it, a glob of drool escapes your lips. you could cum just from the sight. it was slightly darker than the rest of his body, with the cutest blushing tip, and to your predictions, it was veiny. there was a prominent one along the underside that wrapped around to top at it's head. and he was leaking. a milky-clear drop of precum slipped down his shaft, and you wanted nothing more than to lap at it until you were given the real thing.

"what are you waiting for? i give you full permission to quench your desires." you don't waste a second. as much as you wish to admire the beauty of his cock, you're desperate to have it an your hands and eventually in your mouth. your right hand stays near the base while your left focuses on the head. you slowly drag your hand up and down, relishing in the feeling of it in your hand. warm and thick, but you don't waste time. you wanted him warm, throbbing, and leaking in your hand and now you have him like that.

using your fingers to glide over the tip, collecting precum and spreading it along the remainder of his cock, you begin pumping at a steady pace. you focus on the monster in your hands and ayato focuses on the devout look on your face and expressed through your body. heaving chest, clenched thighs, shortness of breath. you were a mess, and he loved it.

you spit on your palm and used it as extra lubrication to move faster. you leaned your face in closer to it and give it multiple kisses along it's length, and a one on the tip before licking a drop of precum from it's opening. fuck, it tasted good too. you continued to lick at the tip and ayato's hand found its way in your hair, urging you to take more.

you looked up at him with lidded, lustful eyes, keeping eye contact as you placed the tip of his cock in your mouth. he bucked his hips slightly, his thighs clenching and his head being thrown back as you began suckling on the tip. "good, good, fuck! you're so good," he moaned, "you can take a bit more, yeah? course you can, you're my good darling."

you take more into your mouth, drinking up his groans of satisfaction and words of praise like his precum. what you don't fit in your mouth is jerked off by your left hand, while your right hand holds his balls in your hand, slightly fondling them. your tongue drags against the underside of his lock, running along the vein and taking in the taste of him. "ha, ha, ha, oh fuck!" he throws his head back, the arm not on your head being thrown over his face. he was loud, and he didn't give a single fuck.

at the last second, you pull off his cock and jerk it really fast. his eyes roll to the back of his head as ropes of white cum paint itself on your face. some land on your face, others on your tongue, and some end up on yoru clothing. you don't mind, you scoop up the cum, where ever it lands, and place it into your mouth. you swallow audibly, opening your mouth to show ayato you swallowed every drop you got in your mouth.

he pants with a flushed expression as he looks at you. "you're so fucking slutty," he tips your face up at him, using his thump to wipe some cum off your cheek and place it in your mouth as he grips your chin, "and i fucking love it." he grabs you by your neck, pulling you to straddle his lap, his cock rubbing against your aroused groin. he kisses your neck then whispers in your ears, "fuck, i'm gonna give you your own little happy ending, alright?"

thoma, protecter from afar: washing machine heart.

for all the favors he's done for you, you feel like you owe him your life! but he's too humble for that. however, he won't pass up on an opportunity to finally relieve himself of stress when you give him permission to use you after you get stuck in a washing machine.

he feels like the world's biggest pervert. taking the chance the opportunity you offered him to fuck his coworker while you're stuck in a washing machine?! it feels like something straight out of a porno he'll find himself watching in the late ours of the night while beating his cock. yet, you feel so much better than his fist and he thinks he might just be addicted.

"ah~! you're too good! s-so wet and tight and, nghh!"

he moans, and the echo of the inside of the machine reverberates the sounds of your own as thoma's cock reaches each sensitive spot inside of you. his hands grip onto your hips as pushes himself deeper inside your walls.

"wish i could see your face so bad. bet you look so cute gettin fucked and i can't even see it."

he says through clenched teeth. evident by the way he seems to fuck you with more urgency.

"'ts not fair. s'not fair," he whines, "too good. you're too good 'nd i can't even see your face. w-we'll just have to do this another time, right baby? so we can see each other faces and i can make sure you get pampered like the perfection you are."

"okay, thoma. we can do it again. i promsie."

at your words, thoma begins to hump you even faster, you can feel water drip on your lower back. were they tears or drool from the pent of pervert behind you?

thoma dips his hand below you to play with your sex, and with a few more thrusts, you cum around his cock, an he pulls out just in time to paint you ass and lower back white. he pants, admiring the sight for a few seconds before helping you out of the machine you were stuck in.

"why didn't you cum inside?"

he kisses you before gently pulling away.

"i promise i will one day soon. when we can really feel each other and i can give you the proper foreplay and worship you deserve. wanted the first time i cum inside of you to be when i look you in your eyes. "

gorou, canine warrior: promises kept.

gorou is a busy hybrid, so he isn't left with much time to relieve himself. after taking time out of his especially busy schedule to help you with a mundane task, you feel the need to repay him. you catch him jerking off and think of the perfect way to repay the favor.

--"fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck~! you're too good to me, puppy!" the canine hybrid moans as he pushes your head further down his cock. his hips are swift and unstopping as drool escapes from your lips and your hand shoots between your thighs to play with your aroused sex.

how was the little shiba inu general of watatsumi able to fuck like a full grown wolf?

the roll of his hips slowed as the hybrid watches your eyes roll back. he only lets out a short breath before gently bringing one of his hands to your forehead and wiping a bead of sweat from your brow. your eyes connect with his as he licks the sweat off his thumb with a low growl.

"you're too sweet, can't promise i won't just sink my teeth in and never let go, ah-"

he's cut off my a small whimper as your purposefully rub your tounge along the underside of his cock, looking up at his with playful eyes that make his tail swish like never before. his head rolls back as his hips begin to move again. this time, slower, but focusing on hitting deeper against the back of your throat.

"nghhhh, i love you so much. you're too good to me, way too fucking good. m'gonna stuff your little hole full as soon as m'done marking my territory all over this pretty little face of yours. not gonna stop until one of us are limp from pleasure, pup."

gorou's hips focus on both speed and precision now, clearly chasing his own high through your throat. his head is thrown back as little whimpers and moans escape his lips. he mutters small promises of marking you and making sure you're filled to brim. ones you know he has no intentions of breaking.

especially when his thrust pick up speed for a few pumps then he abruptly pulls you off his cock to have rope after rope of creamy cum to paint your face and chest. his balls clench as he pumps the last load right onto your awaiting face. your hands speed up two, and you find yourseld cumming at the same time as him.

gorou feels himself harden up again just seeing your fucked out expression. from pure arousal, from the high of your orgasm, and from the face fucking you just received. his hand cups your cheek, and he kisses you gently. its a complete opposite from the treatment he just gave you.

the kisses get deeper and deeper until your hands are tangled in his hair and his are on your waist. he licks a stripe down to your nape, his sharp teeth grazing the tender flesh before he sinks them in, you let out a moan of surprise, and he leaves a few more marks across your neck.

he pulls from your neck and hovers himself over you, suddenly flipping you so you're flat against the floor. he uses your hips to pull your lower half up and curve you into a nice arch. the hybrid's hands grasp your ass, fondling the cheeks a bit before he takes a bite, leaving a hickey.

"promised i would mark you 'nd i did, didn't i? now i just gotta fill you up till one of us passes out from exhaustion."

gorou leans over your back, to whisper in your ear as he lines up his cock with your hole.

"and i promise it won't be me."

itto, the one and oni: take me before you join me.

you had challenged one of his gang members to try to become a member of his gang. and right before the fight can actually start, you realize you're severely outmatched. luckily, the gang's leader saves you before you can get your ass handed to you. you thank him, and the only thing he wants in return for saving your ass is a piece of it.

"come on baby, you've almost got me! just a few more inches to go!" he playfully taunts, watching as you practically try to crawl away from the huge cock that penetrated your hole. you let out breathless moans as your insides tried to suck in the phallus. your body was already giving in, but a small part of your rational mind knew that he was too big to handle.

you look over your shoulder at him, face warm and flushed with tears. behind your eyes, he can see you're already losing to the pleasure you're getting from him. and yet, you still try to grip onto the stone walls of the building he fucks you against and crawl away.

"its so cute! yer body's already giving into me yet yer still insisting on this song and dance that i'm too big to take."

he punctuates his words with a thrust, getting at least another inch inside. you let out a pathetically loud moan and quickly cover your mouth in shame. more moans leave you as itto's hand slaps your ass and pulls you further back to meet his pelvis. "sh-shit! you're so damn tight and soooo loud. not that i mind, but are you trying to let the whole damn city know you're getting plowed by the arataki itto?"

finally, the oni has your ass firm against his pelvis. nearly every single inch of his cock inside of your warm walls, and they clench deliciously around him. you can tell by the satisfied growl then repeated smacking of you ass. ugh, it would be so sore tomorrow. but you can't even think about it before itto starts a harsh pace.

rythmatic moans escape you. instead of attempting to crawl away from his cock, you grip the stone to stabilize yourself. you even began pushing back against him, attempting to meet him halfway, but he was too fast for you to match his quick thrusts.

"ah, shit! ittoooo~!" you pants, tears falling down yoru cheek in pure pleasure. when his hand wraps around your waist to not only support you from below, but to play with yoru sex, you cum on the spot, wailing his name like its the only word you know.

the oni only laughs, his pace unrelenting as he works you through your high while chasing his own. by the way he suddenly gets faster with the rolls of his hips, you can say that he's getting closer and closer.

"you knew you were outmatched by that small fry in a fight yet you still decided to fuck the big guy, huh?"

he movies his hand from your sex and grips your neck, turning your head to face him. as you look at him over your shoulder, you can see the evil smirk on his face.

"but theres something you still havent accounted for, baby."

and suddenly, you feel it. you feel him. your mouth opens in a breathless gasp as yoru eyes roll to the back of your head. his knot, at least the size of your fist, gets thrusted in the entrance of your hole, and you cum a second time in sync with the oni.

ropes of warm white liquid fill your walls and you drool in satisfaction. even with the knot plugging your entrance, steaks of cum still drip from yoru hole around it. you can barely see it, but itto breifly pouts at the sight of his load being wasted.

you pant out his name, but theres no answer. that is until you hiss at the feeling of your ass being slapped again.

"can't believe you thought you could be one of us when yer so weak.." he whispered.

"you're not joining my gang till you take my cock and knot without spilling even a drop of my cum. and since the great arataki ittos so nice, i'll give you a second chance right now."

(mondstadt vers.) (liyue vers.)

[lolitalovess]

loser vi who needs you as motivation when she's studying for her finals!!

warnings: fingering, praise, reader is very kind, reader is the best supportive gf, vi is a loser, vi is lowk dumb in this i'm so sorry, i think that's it

vi was laying on her side, her eyes boring into the bright screen of her laptop while she messily wrote seemingly important words and sentences into her book, her hand beginning to cramp from the repeated motions. you were laying behind her, propped up on your elbow with her ass tucked against your lower abdomen. you could see past her shoulder enough to see what she was reading and writing about, occasionally moving forward to kiss the reddish pink hair on the top of her head every time you notice her write something important down.

you know your girlfriend is smart, in many aspects you wouldn't expect. she's good at maths and writes phenomenal essays for english- a very interpersonally and emotionally intelligent person in ways you've never been able to find within someone else.

but she's never been good at foreign language in any aspect whatsoever.

"baby, 's too much." she whines, her back arching away from your torso when you curl your fingers inside her. her boxers were discarded awhile ago, since she opened her laptop and told you that it was too hard for her to remember all of the syllabus in hiragana (me too). you don't even know why she chose this as one of her electives, especially when you tried to talk her out of it at the beginning of the year. you're starting to think she only chose it for this.

"read back through your notes. i watched you write it down earlier." she murmur into her soft hair, watching as she dropped her pen onto her mattress to begin flipping through the past her pages of her book at just the same speed of someone who's slightly panicked, bored, and wants an orgasm.

your fingers are pumping in and out of her at a relatively slow pace, one that you knew had her as equally frustrated with her work. "there you go," you coo, moving your hand away from your face to brush some of her hair away from the crown of her head to kiss it, said hand reaching to pick up her discarded pen to underline what she was looking for in the middle of the page, the letters that just looked like small drawings to her.

the repeated sound of her pussy squelching like a whore from your fingers has never paused for one second on the past thirty minutes, and it's the same with her moans. her inner thighs and your shorts are coated with her cum and arousal from when she was doing good.

"uh," she started, her voice slightly hoarse but still whiny in a way that was so sexy you're sure you'd never tire of. "hiragana is a simplified form of kanji along with katakana. there are forty six curvy characters, contrary to the sharp corners katakana has." eighth grade level definition, but it was good enough. "it's the most commonly used and spoken alphabet used in japan." she added, resulting with your fingers pumping in and out of her at a much more rapid pace than before, earning a soft whimper and moan slipping past her lips.

"can i-" she began, only for you to cut her off. "you can." and from your permission, she's cumming around your fingers with a loud moan, practically burying her face into her pillow with her heart shaped lips parted and eyebrows furrowed as you finger fuck her though it, her crooked glasses falling onto the mattress.

"that's my good girl."

[sesmiq]

the fake princess

pairing: reincarnated male reader x yandere prince oc

fic includes: arranged marriage, cross dressing, reader's death (briefly mentioned), Dom to sub bottom male reader, rough sex, rimming 2x, gruwhdbwb will add more in the morning

note: THIS IS NOT FINISHED!! tumblr is rlly messing me up by posting my work earlier whenever i save my draft lol. feel free to read as i write the ending. reader is male! a male!! a certain character will be calling him "lady" for the plot!! i wont spoil much but please keep that in mind ;; this is messy lmao

poor you were just on the way back to your apartment after a barbeque party with your friends— until a drunk man grabbed you from the dark alley way and stabbed you in the stomach and pussied out after he realized what he did.

is this how you die? fuck, he couldve do you a favour by taking you out in one go and not run away?? loser behaviour.

you laid down in your own blood in the dimly lit alley way, your vision slowly getting blurry as your surrounding turns into a blur of colours and into nothing.

before slipping into darkness, you heard a loud voice shouting out your name. its too late, bootlicking shitfuck.

you opened your eyes by the sound of bird chipping, you stared up at the bright blue sky accompanied by someone with dark brown hair and green eyes staring back at you.

"Lady Amador.. it's time to go back to the palace. the prince is looking foward for you during lunch time."

who the fuck is lady amador, and why are they wearing a maid outfit?

sitting up, you take note of the grass underneath you instead of the rough concrete floor from earlier- are you hallucinating to the point youre in this nice garden..? huh, why are you wearing a dress, did a creep kidnapped you and dress you in one of their grandma's dresses?!

panicking, you got up towards the pond and looked into your own reflection. you still looked the same as before, you cant say the same since your hair looked much longer and the light makeup on your face.

lady amador.. prince?? garden.. holy- is that a palace behind you?! whats going on?!

before you could brainstorm any longer, the person from earlier waved their hand in front of you, catching your attention. "lady amador, its time to go. prince sebastian is looking for you."

prince sebastian? sebastian..

slowly, everything clicked to you, did you really reincarnated as one of the characters in the novel "The Villainess's Ultimate Plan!" holy shit.

you touched your face, and then looked into the pond again, that face..

the villainess younger brother?!

the one who disguised as the protagonist.. the one that planned the entire scheme to assassinate the crown prince but end up getting beheaded one day after the wedding night?!

with that information, your vision fade into black once again.

"My lady?!"

jerking awake, you hunched over, clasping a hand against your face. you slowly takes a few deep breathe, you slowly brought your hand away.

you looked to your side, the same person from earlier is standing next to you with a worried expression. not only them, a man with bright gold hair is sitting on a chair nearby reading a book.

prince fucking sebastian. the man that you're supposed to kill during you and the prince's wedding night.

he looked up from his book and walked up to you, you flinched away when he raised his hand, he stopped his action before he promptly caressing your face.

"you, please step out of Lady Penelope's room." he ordered the person (the maid maybe?), and they complied.

there was an awkward silence in the room, he was still holding your face, you looked at the side, scared to hold any eye contact with the man in front of you.

"look at me." he said in a stern voice, like a mom scolding her child.

so you did, afraid of any consequences. (since he was the same man that's willing to destroy the kingdom for your supposed sister.)

he let go of your face before sitting onto the side of the bed, his face is blank,, as if he dont care about you, but the worried tone in his voice said otherwise.

"y/n." you jumped at the name, how did he know your name- wasnt he supposed to call you by your sister's name ?! before you can say amything, he cut you off.

"..i was waiting for you at the dining table, but i got the news of you fainting in the garden right after waking up from your nap."

"..i apologize."

he leans in towards you, settling his hands onto your face once again as if to inspect for any injuries, he lets go once again when he saw no visible injuries.

"i know you prefer to be called lady amador when it comes to appearing as your sister, but a maid was here, and i have to convince people we have a medium love with each other.

especially when our wedding night is two days from now on."

what. the story already started?! no- screw that, how did he know you were pretending to be penelope?!

"how did you know im not lady penelope?" you kissed your teeth, gripping onto the comforter, subtly slapping the prince's hand away when he tried to reach for yours.

"lady penelope had sent a letter to me, personally stating about her plan, and we agreed on one term: i keep you safe and she sends me information of the war, simple.

though, i shall say, youre quite the beauty."

you were about to curse at penelope but your ears becoming warm after he said that, he chuckled before getting up of the bed.

"most married or engaged couples have monthly night together, and ours is two night from now on. we wont do anything sensual, do not worry."

"what-"

"see you tomorrow at lunch, dear." he kissed you on the forehead before walking out of your room.

for the next two days, you learnt the person at the garden is your personal maid, Andrea. apparently she found you laying on the ground at the garden (that sebastian built for you.) after you stated you were gonna take a stroll.

you also met your personal knight, William, Penelope's second love interest but was sadly killed when he defended you during your trail.

the three of you got along well, often seen having conversation near the garden or having tea party together. sebastian watched from his office and smiled at the sight of you chatting with Andrea.

william on the other hand,, have been too close to you for his liking. he nearly ripped an important paper when he saw william wiping off some biscuit crumbs from your face- why is he so touchy? Andrea couldve done that using a napkin.

he broke his pen, the black ink soaked his hand and his paper work. did you like damian better than him? why did you become flustered when the knight spoke about something?

should he get rid of him?

how troublesome.

he remembered when a butler and notify him what happened to you. he nearly tear down the entire palace when you didnt wake up for two hours he almost frown when you flinched and move away from him when he reach out to you. the way you were nervous around him,,

he slowly calmed down, reminding himself that you and his night together is tonight. he sighed, he should finish his work first then meet you tonight.

back in your chamber, Andrea and a few other maids helped you to get ready, even helping you to take a bath. you enjoyed the smell of lavender from the soapy water, an old maid massaged your body when you're just soaking inside the bathtub.

the old lady was kind enough to even offer you a drink as she tells you stories of her youth.

after that and when Andrea deemed you 'clean', began to dress you into a white night gown made with the finest silk, the strap of the grown barely hanging on your shoulder. the maid had explained that you have to wear this because 'the prince gave the gown as a gift.'

was he not shameless when his gift includes a set of lingerie?!

you fidget around with the ring, Andrea styled your hair into a loose braid, making sure you look presentable before leading you to the prince's chamber. you insisted that you walked by yourself, so she went back to the maid headquarter.

walking down the dimly lit hallway, no one is wandering except for a few knight patrolling. you soon arrived in front of his room, knocking a few time to make your presence known "sir sebastian-"

before you could finish, sebastian opened the door and grab you by the waist, dragging you into the room.

he lifts you up and carries you to the spacious bed, he gently laid you down and take a whiff of your scent before mumbled out a "you smells nice.."

you looked at him with wide eyes, he was only wearing a robe- your eyes wonders down and sees his toned body that he had clearly worked on. he noticed you and grinned, taking your hand and putting it on his chest

"like what you see?"

if you could kill him right now you would.

instead, you pushed him down the bed, him lying down on the bed and you on top.

"what if i do?

also.. i will be the one in charge tonight."

you leaned down, opening his robe hastily and take one nipple into your lips.

sebastian nearly flipped you over, but he held himself back. he moaned when you grinned onto his crotch, he lightly tugged your hair, leaning in as if asking for a kiss.

you gave him what he wanted, he softly moaned into the kiss, slowly his hand make its way towards your shorts, pulling it down your ankle before he pulls away from the kiss.

he sat up against the bed frame and settled you on his lap, he took in the sight of you wearing his gift- that he had commissioned for it to fit you, and god.

you are so pretty.

hair messy from the kissing session, the collar of the gown was low enough for him to see the lacey bra, a garter designed with silver lining tightly wrapped around your thigh and the underwear that only covered your erected cock-

he want to eat you up,,

so he did.

Sebastian was known to be a beast in bed as he was known in the battlefield,, was what the novel described him.

Unfortunately they were true to their words, his thrust was harsh and deep, creating impacts thats enough to make you cry out.

so much of being gentle?! he even ripped off your outfit, leaving you naked!

he was nice enough to eat you out earlier, even giving you to opportunity to ride his face.

sebastian continue with this harsh pace, holding one of your leg onto his shoulder while another holds your hand. his apologized multiple times while grunting, saying things likes

"im sorry- ah! youre so tight!"

"mm- if you keep moaning like that- hng! i wont be able to slow down-"

"dear.. mmh.. im sorry.. i'll take care of you later-!" im gonna kill you, you handsome bastard!!

you clung onto him on each thrust, it just feel so-! sebastian suddenly changed the position, pushing you on your knees while holding your arms at the back,

"se-sebasti- ah! wait-! mngh!" he holds your hand behind you back tightly to ground you, the position didnt help at all, you couldnt muffle your moans and his dick reach deeper than it did in the previous position.

he panted, letting go of your arms fearing that your arm is sore. he gave an apologetic kiss on your forehead before continuing .

he grunted when you tighten around him, he tried to sooth you by giving stroking your cock, but that only add to the pleasure as you cried out of overstimulation.

you felt like you were melting.

you had climax into sebastian's hand, fuck- why isnt he stopping-?! you continued to cry out before he stuff his finger with your cum into your mouth, you immediately bit onto his fingers to muffle your moans.

his climax came sooner than you expected, he twitched and came inside. he slowed down his thrust, riding out his climax before pulling out.

you panted, thinking its over,, until sebastian gripped your aas and spread them apart revealing your winking hole, dripping out his children batter.

without hesitation, he dive in as if its his last meal, slurping and eating his own cum. you moaned at this, trying to push him away but he stayed still.

"what are you-"

"round 2? gotta have heirs for the future y'know.." he said with a toothy grin, flipping you over your back and pressing you thigh until your ankle reach your chest.

"ah?!"

the knights guarding outside sebastian's chamber looked at each other then looked down, the two of them had an erection from your moaning- tone it down sometimes!

a/n: not proud with this one, will check and edit it in the morning (its 3.56 am right now) goodnight ^_^

[adiadagaki]

Gojo as your boyfriend

- This man doesn't understand what it means to not touch. Ass, waist, boobs, hips, hands, stomach, thighs, he is always touching some part of you. It's like he can't help it (he actually can't, he constantly tells you).

- He spoils the hell out of you with designer goods, luxury foods, elaborate dates and holidays. He knows being his boyfriend can be hard at times and he is intent on showing you he is aware of that and appreciates you staying with him.

- He is little spoon, he loves being cuddled up, face in your boobs and your chin perched on his head. His favourite part has to be the way you hug his head to your chest, pressing kisses on the crown of his head. You swear you've heard him literally purr from time to time.

- His sex drive is high, he will take you anywhere and everywhere he can, treating you like a princess after. He is the king of after care.

- His pet name for you is sweetheart, his reasoning you are the sweetest of all. Even sweeter than his latte (which he takes six sugars in).

- He is constantly asking to use your ass as a cushion, poking your cheek before giving your ass a rough squeeze in hopes of encouraging you. Sometimes you oblige to see him happy, others you wish Satoru would leave your ass alone and settle for regular cuddles. Either way Satoru takes what you offer with earnest.

- If you call him 'Toru' know he is a) giving you whatever you want or b) fucking you doggy until you pass out, that's how feral it sends him. Don't ask why, it just does.

- After missions all he wants to do is lie in your arms in silence while you play with his hair. You don't ask questions knowing he doesn't like talking about work, the best thing you can do for him it be there for him.

- Every day he is free he cooks breakfast for you (after sex) and makes coffee in the fancy coffee machine he bought just to make your favourites. He lives to spoil you in anyway he can.

- Beware when opening messages from him, he has a bad habit of randomly sending nudes, whining about how bad he needs you on a voice note that follows. Shamefully, he usually gets what he wants.

- Victoria Secret see a lot of the famous sorcerer, who personally replaces all the underwear he destroys for you. He comes out with at least two bags full every single time.

- In public he is bear hugging you, in the queue, while you look around, while he pays, while sifting through crowds. Weird looks? He doesn't care so long as you are in his arms.

[love-belle]

us and our cats !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which he is streaming and being a simp simultaneously.

or

for when it's just you both and your cats. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

real life // lando norris x fem!reader

warnings - language.

author's note - this one made me want to be in a relationship SO bad :/// i really hope you like it, thank u so much for reading, i love you <3

≡;- ꒰ °real life ꒱

"hello everyone!" lando exclaimed as he started the stream, adjusting his equipment. "hello! hi!"

he watched as more and more people joined the stream, feeling excited because this would be his first stream in a few weeks and he clearly missed doing this.

"sorry, i'm just having a bit of a technical issue here," he apologized, leaning down and messing with the wires. "i think one of the cats messed with the wiring or something. they're always fucking up one thing or the other."

lando looked up at the screen, his eyes taking in all the comments, trying his hardest to read the most of them. "show cats? you want me to show you the cats?"

he looked back towards his room, eyes sweeping across as he tried to figure if at least one was in the room and when it became that he was alone, he huffed, shaking his head slightly. "i think they're with y/n, always favour her over me."

his tone turned slightly offended, as if the prospect of the cats, fish and casserole, loving his girlfriend more was simply out of this world. he paused for a second, before leaning forward to grab something off the desks and holding it up for the stream to see.

"that reminds me," he started, placing the headphones on top of his head carefully and smoothing out the crocheted piece in the middle of the band with a proud look, "look at what my girlfriend made me."

it was a simple thing, really. just two crocheted leaves tied in the middle of his headphones, green providing a stark contrast against the black and it almost looked like he was wearing a crown or something. all in all, it was just simply adorable.

now, it may have been simple but to lando, it was everything. he had almost burst out in tears when y/n first showed him her creation, a proud yet nervous look on her face that faded away as soon as he saw what she was showing him. he'd hugged her, kissed her, told her that he loved it more than anything else he owned and sent more than 50 selfies of him wearing those damn headphones to every single person he knew. simply because his girlfriend made that for him and he'd be damned if he didn't show it off.

"how fucking adorable is this, huh?" he chuckled, proudly looking in the camera as the two leaves sat upon his head. he'd been doing this as soon as he'd gotten them, always wearing them whenever there was an online meeting or when he was facetiming someone — he'd wear them any chance he could get. "god, i love her."

the comments were full of love, adoration and support for the couple, fans screaming about how much in love lando was and the said person couldn't help but agree.

yes, he was so in love.

"thank you, guys," lando blushed slightly, chuckling as he read through the comments. "you're all really sweet — no, i cannot fight. thank you for asking, though."

"who's trying to fight you?"

lando jumped slightly in his seat, turning back around to find y/n standing by the door, raising an eyebrow at him.

"just one of your fans," lando laughed, beckoning her towards him as he turned back around. "nope, not just one. plural, they're multiplying."

"well, can you?" y/n teased him, walking towards him as lando rolled his eyes, fond smile on his lips.

"for you, of course, i can," he turned to face her and shot her a wink, a cocky smirk on his face that had her shaking her head and laughing. "come on! don't laugh at me."

"sorry, baby," y/n leaned down and kissed his cheek, lingering for a few seconds before pulling back and straightening up. "i'll leave you to stream, now."

"what? no, stay," lando looked up at her, his eyes pleading for her to stay. "please, it'll be fun and the viewers love you."

"lando — "

"y/n, please?"

y/n sighed and lando couldn't help but grin, knowing that he had won her over. with a smooth move, he had grabbed her waist and was quick to pull her down to sit on his lap.

"woah, okay," y/n chuckled nervously, her hands holding onto lando's as he worked on whatever he had to. "this is nice."

"i know, right?" lando glanced at her before kissing her temple, his smile never leaving his face. "this is fun."

"i bet it is," y/n chuckled, squinting her eyes to read the comments flooding in. "'you're both my parents,' thank you angel. oh, another one that says 'y/n is so mother' that means so much to me, you're all too kind."

"i am so confused right now," lando mumbled, laughing slightly when more comments came in, mostly about y/n and their relationship.

"it's okay," y/n tilted her head to look at him, shifting slightly on his lap which made him tighten his hand around her waist. "i should start doing this with you more often."

"if you sit like this, you're more than welcome to join me everyday," lando whispered to her, a cheeky smirk on his face that melted into giggles when y/n hit his arm lightly, feeling flustered because hundreds of thousands of people could hear them at the moment and that thought was — well, it was scary. "sorry not sorry for speaking my mind."

"oh my god," y/n muttered to herself, grabbing onto the desk in front of her as lando leaned forward all of a sudden, his hands adjusting the computer screen before he settled back, a soft 'sorry' leaving him as he made sure she was comfortable. "i should get my own chair. it's hard."

"it sure is," lando retorted almost immediately, snickering as the innuendo registered in his girlfriend's brain, her mouth agape as she stared at him. "what? c'mon! the opportunity was right there. this one's kinda on you."

"i swear, it's like i'm back in high school," y/n mumbled, standing up and leaving to get another chair, her voice echoing in the hallway as she called for their babies — their cats.

"love you, darling!" lando called out, the grin never leaving his face. once again, the chat went wild with the interaction between the couple, red hearts flooding in and uppercase letters making lando blush slightly. "sorry guys, she distracted me. back on the stream — 'do you have any plans for tonight?' yes, we do! we're going to this art gallery that y/n had wanted to check out for a while and after that we'll be having dinner, so, there's that. i'm excited, it's always fun to visit galleries with y/n because she knows stuff, like the real stuff about art, paintings and sculptures and all and it's so cool because it's like having your own little personal guide — except this one calls you a dumbfuck way too often."

lando had a lovesick smile on his face as he spoke, laughing in between sentences. it was always like this, someone — anyone would ask a question and he'd somehow manage to link it to y/n and then there was no hope for any further continuation of that conversation because if there was one thing lando could talk about endlessly, it was y/n.

sometimes it would be about what she had baked for him, what she painted in her free time, or this video of casserole slapping fish she had sent him and other times, it would be about y/n being upset about something and him asking for advice or when she had crocheted him those two leaves and it was all he could talk about for weeks.

"'how long have you been together?' we celebrated our two year anniversary a few weeks ago!" lando answered happily, smile never flattering at the thought of their celebration. "we started dating in october, though she wasn't my girlfriend until late december, so yeah.

"'how many cats do you have?' we have two cats, fish and casserole," lando replied, rolling his eyes fondly at the thought of their little demons. "they're little pieces of shit, i swear. they're always out to get me like — i always knew they liked y/n more than me but you should see them when i'm around like — it's like they're calling me 'bitch' over and over in their kitty language and it's so — "

a soft meow interrupted him, a confused on his face as he looked behind him to see where it came from. a few seconds passed before he heard it again, this time it was clear that it came from under the desk. with a hesitant push against the desk, he pushed his chair back and leaned down to see under it and saw two eyes blinking back at him, almost twinkling in the dark.

"fuck."

with a careful grip, he carefully pulled casserole from under the desk, holding her against his chest and he turned towards the stream, a nervous look on his face.

"y/n's gonna kill me for calling her precious baby a little piece of shit with her present in the room."

"you called my baby a what?!"

[nouearth]

my favorite scent is you.

bruce wayne x male reader.

summary: bruce needs to be taken care of too (in which reader believes it's through the form of sex).

wc: 3.5k. genre: smut, angst (kinda?). warnings: top!bruce, consensual!somnophilia, blowjobs, slow mouth-fucking, fondling, reader is asleep, bruce and reader are the same age, reader also grew up with bruce, mentions of parental death, trauma-bonding.

notes: it's been a while since i've done a brucey smut (and also fulfilled a request), so here ya go! actually my first time writing about somnophilia, so be easy on me, lmao. it was harder than i thought! also i'm trying a new layout,,, kinda, don't mind me.

“Do you remember that night? When my parents… you know.”

It had been a little less than a decade, but the uneasiness you felt when mentioning your parents’ death was akin to hovering your palm above an open flame. The flicker of the heat frightened you. Though, you couldn’t help but feel magnetic towards it—closer and closer—until you felt a strike to your calloused hand.

Just a little more, and you’ll break free.

It was striking how your wounds maintained their novelty. Years of skin hardening, scabbing and layering over the memory of Bruce breaking the news to you on that night, and the slightest mention of your parents tore it open with little defiance.

“Yeah…” Bruce whispered, and a sudden impulse to hold you prevailed over him. He turned over on his side, slipping his arms over and under your frame, and pulled your back flushed to his chest. You eased with a melting squirm, a physical gratitude, and then another when you pressed a kiss to his forearm. “It was supposed to be Alfred telling you, but I insisted.”

“Really?” Your curiosity was piqued and you felt Bruce nod into the crown of your head, breathing you in deep like his favourite cologne. A scent he’d never wear himself because it matched you perfectly. “How come?”

“Well, I had no one other than Alfred when my parents died. He tried his best, but we barely had time to grieve. A bunch of responsibilities were bestowed upon him overnight; my parents’ estate, numerous paperworks, the press and media, not to mention the funeral service. It was… a lot for him.”

Bruce sighed, squeezing you tighter for support as he continued. “I remember reading—signing off things that I knew nothing about the very next day.” He then laughed, a bitterness surfing for air in the bass of his voice. “I didn’t even have a signature yet.”

“I’m sorry…” A heaviness sank you and Bruce deeper into the mattress. You latched onto Bruce’s arm for support, held him gently, and found levity through the brush of his lips, as if he was saying—consoling you through the black void: I’m here, I’m here. 

“Is that why you guys hired my parents?”

“Mm-hm, we needed help around the manor while Alfred had bigger duties to tend to. And I’m glad he suggested the idea as much as I was apprehensive about it. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have met such an incredible family. A year became two, then another two, then another, and…” Bruce recalled the sounds, the visions of red and blue flashing—blaring into the sky.  “Which was why I thought it would be best if it came from me. So I could be that someone that I desperately needed during my grieving.”

“You shouldn’t have been thinking about that though… I mean, what—we were only fifteen? Coming from your background, you should’ve been… cocky, annoying, emo, selfish, like every other teenager.

“I guess your personality kind of compensated for that—” He amused himself with some levity.

“Hey!” You choked out a laugh, then lightly elbowed his stomach behind you. “Ass.”

“Ow,” Bruce pressed a smile to the back of your head, inhaling your scent again. “I did have that emo phase though.”

“Oh yeah—” Within his hold, you turned your body to meet Bruce face-to-face as a flood of memories came rushing in. You greeted him with a smile that he was able to single out from within the dark. Then, he made sure your presence was acknowledged with a chaste kiss. 

“Your hair came down to your nose and stuff—oh! And you kept wearing the same hoodie too.” 

“Yeah, okay—we get it. Not my best look.” He groaned, tearing himself away from you as your descriptions of Bruce suddenly developed into powerfully cringe-inducing memories. As embarrassing as the past was, he was glad it brought you some kind of merriment. He’d been scolded multiple times by numerous people, though namely Alfred, to treat you better.

You and Bruce weren’t always close. In all honesty, it took your parents’ death that empowered you two to stick together more than ever. Where darkness used to storm over the roof of the manor, you and Bruce managed to conjure a light that illuminated a path to find sanctuary within each other.

“Thank you for all you’ve done for me.” The moonlight reflecting through the bedroom window casted shadows across Bruce’s profile. Wrinkles you’ve never noticed before were accentuated; eye-bags that you’ve been nagging at him to take care of deepened; glimpses of a boy who was forced to grow up. 

He turned when you reached over to trace over the spotlighted features. A single digit caressed the bumpy bridge of his nose; the stubble that tickled you whenever you kissed; the cut over his broad chin that was your favorite spot to kiss,; the scar over his left cheek that had been healing for months, only to restart the process again after Bruce’s late night endeavors.

“Let me take care of you now.”

You weren’t sure how Bruce took your proposal. Recalling the moment had you adding unnecessary details that all-the-more exploded the situation into a narrative you couldn’t exactly trust.

Wait… he made a weird face when I told him. I remember a face! No, idiot—he just had an itch on his cheek. Oh.

I don’t remember his phone ringing… You think he was trying to get out of the conversation? Maybe? He usually has his phone set on the loudest volume possible…

Oh god, he probably thinks I’m some kind of sex-crazed addict. Well, aren’t you— No?! I just—wanted to take care of him… We rarely see each other these days and I doubt the lunches I’d make for him add much to that narrative. I needed something more. Wow, I’ve been talking to myself for this long?

You probably look crazed, especially if someone were to walk in the bedroom at this moment, but you’d be too deep into your thoughts to hardly notice. If you did notice, you’d probably go on a tangent about how Bruce was probably disgusted by how you could even suggest a thing like that.

Your toes and fingers curled at the recollection you were certain happened.

“So… I know you’ve been out late at night—” “(M/N), it’s not what you—” “Shh, I’m too good of a catch for you to cheat on me.” “I mean, keep that cockiness up and maybe—” “Excuse me?!” “I’m joking.” “Uh-huh, well, keep joking and I might have to rescind my offer.” “Your offer?” “Look, I haven’t seen you much lately. It’s not your fault. You’re busy.” “I know—I just need to deal with this…” “Bruce, you look—you are tired. You’re overworked and whenever we do spend time together, you’re asleep!” “I’m trying my b—” “You’re trying your best, I know! And I don’t know what you do at night, not sure if I do want to know, but… two-three hours of sleep is not enough. You’re killing your body.” “Hm…” “And one day, you’re going to crack and I just…” “Just..?” “I’m not sure how to… put it.” “What is it?” “If you want to… and it’s entirely up to you, but…” “Jesus, spit it out—” “I— if I’m still asleep, and you want to somehow… relieve your stress..?” “Oh—” “I’m all yours.”

The second hand on the clock cycled slower, almost as if it was mocking you for being so desperate, impatient, and doubting. Yet, at the same time—if clocks could have a personality—there was a dormant kindness in the rhythm of the minute hand striking every corner of the wheel. Gentle and soothing, the lids of your eyes grew heavier with every passing second as the sound of the clock counted sheeps for you.

Forty, forty-one… fourty-two… Forty… three…

The floor creaked despite Bruce’s best efforts to remain light on his feet. You’ve always been a light sleeper, even at the sound of wind whistling you’d jolt up to, but surprisingly—nothing. 

As he approached his side of the bed, his eyes settled on you like always. To Bruce, it was a sweet sigh of relief to come back home to you again. Sometimes, a miracle depending on the crimes of that night. Nightly patrols have taken a toll on him; on his body, on his mentality; but being in your presence always—no matter what—brought him back to the solitude his life was at before being laboured by vengeance.

Coldly, he sat on the edge, careful to not wake you, as he dried off the damp strands of his washed hair with a towel. Then, he chased after the tremors off his bare body with several rubs of the coarse towel, gathering water molecules into the material until he was somewhat dry. It was the typical nightly routine of Bruce Wayne, in which he was guilty of vacating you of.

Bruce witnessed—took part in—how you ended your night. A late night snack, a book, a tv show—and he’d stroke your hair to the sound of his heartbeat until you were out like a light. He’d never forget to kiss your forehead as if it was an enchantment that would guard him for the rest of the night. Naively, Bruce was apprehensive of the subtle chance of reducing his survival rate if he were to miss a night of seeing you—touching you. Even if you had the biggest argument with him, even if you were in the wrong, he’d make sure to see you one last time before escaping into the shadows, saving the city—saving you.

After dressing himself in a fresh set of briefs, the soft cushions of his bed and pillows enticed him back into sanctuary. He crawled back into bed and instinctively found his arms around your body, warm and full against the recovering bruises against his own flesh. Skipping dinner was a norm, but he felt satiated when he could hear you breathe, feel your pulse, and watch you writhe within his doting affection.

“Goodnight.” Bruce muttered as he nestled his nose into your hair, another deep inhale of your scent to ground him that you were still present in his life. And then another as his head turned towards your neck, a familiar smell that taunted him to lean closer until his nose pressed softly into the crook of your skin.

White musk.

The top note of his favourite cologne on you. It lingered delightfully in Bruce’s nostrils, and there was a reason why he always urged you to spray it on date nights. It was intoxicating.

Come to think of it, Bruce’s night routine hadn’t completely checked off all of his tasks for the night. After he would come home, it was a no-brainer to shower off the sweat, dirt, and sometimes blood, from his patrols. He would scrape his hair clean with the shampoo suds, mint and cooling on his scalp. Then he’d move onto his body. The suds would trickle down his torso, gather in his muscles, and he’d add onto the bubbles with his body wash, lathering himself from head to toe. And almost always, the slightest brush of his length would break the restraints the night had locked his sanity behind. It was always you that managed to free him. As he would squeeze himself, fondle his sack while the suds dribbled down his leg and feet, he’d think of you—miss you in ways he wouldn’t dare to ignore, ways in which he was ashamed to desert you of.

“I’m all yours.” Your proclamation echoed, ran marathons in Bruce’s mind as the white musk led him astray. The simple thought of him taking advantage of you guilted him, churned his stomach until it was bundled into thick knots, but it made his heart race.

“(M/N)?” He whispered. The bed creaked when Bruce peered over you, and he was met by silence. A few soft snores joined the ticking of the clock, but for the most part, silence.

I shouldn’t… Bruce convinced himself. It was… shameful to even think of taking advantage of you like that—in your unconscious state, in your vulnerability. You looked peaceful in your slumber and knowing how hard you worked, he wouldn’t dare to ruin it because of his own selfish desires.

He sighed, rolling flat onto his back again, hoping the uncomfortable ache in his briefs would settle down in a minute or so. When it didn’t, Bruce tended to it with a brief re-adjustment of the way his length stood. Then again as he twitched in defiance.

Again, as he throbbed.

And again, when his briefs couldn’t support his throbbing erection anymore. 

Bruce turned his head to the side, scanning your unconscious state. His eyes traced the languid form of your body as it sank deep into the mattress, hugging the air to your body while he slowly pulled the blanket off of you.

The bed creaked as inch by inch, Bruce scooted closer to you, turning back to lie on his side and nearly spooning you again. His movements were sluggish, apprehensive to wake you, but at the same time, there was an adrenaline rush surging through him knowing he could be caught any second (despite your permission).

His hand felt it as it caressed your arm in singular, docile strokes. Then his breath, as he leaned closer, pressing himself against you again, and slipped a hand under your shirt. Your bare stomach rested warmly against his calloused palm, and he felt your breath hitch, your stomach tensed, every evidence of your presence, as Bruce ran a palm upwards to touch your chest once, then back down to bravely slither under the waistband of your boxers.

“Fuck…” Bruce’s breath unevened, struggling to keep a steady rhythm, when his palm gently groped a handful of your flaccid cock, a complete opposite of the shameful erection he was prodding near your bottom. You writhed once, and he quickly paused with a shudder as you suddenly turned to lie on your back, smacking the dryness in your throat away as you drove yourself into deeper slumber.

He found it unusual how you haven’t awakened by now, but the cynical part of him pleaded for you to remain asleep—until he had his way with you.

Gently, Bruce lifted your hips to pull down the remainder of your boxers off until you were bare in all of your glory before him. Your balls lay briefly in between your legs before they were back to being fondled in his warm palms. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous like this…”

Droplets of sweat formed over Bruce’s hairline as he sluggishly maneuvered himself to kneel over your unconscious state. His thighs hardened, flexed as he maintained his balance over you. He stroked his cock with his free-hand; to the gentle snores you poured out, to your slightly parted lips that he could easily spread open with his girth, and to his surprise, to the stiffness of your cock as it stirred awake from his constant fondling.

What are you dreaming about? Are you dreaming of me? Are you dreaming of being fucked by me? Bruce groaned as he witnessed the once softened features of your face stiffened into diffident lust. Your breath unknowingly quickened when Bruce began stroking your cock together with his in one grasp. Your body writhed with uncomfortable pleasure as if you wanted whatever was happening to you to stop, yet the throbbing veins of your cock begged Bruce for more—to hold you for longer, to keep doing as he pleased.

Bruce forgot what it was like to have you like this; to have you squirming beautifully beneath him, dripping in heavy pre-cum while simultaneously having your cock lathered in his own fluid. He was enticed by your every movement, squirming and writhing confined by the state of slumber as you couldn’t stop him. You couldn’t stop the uncomfortable pleasure that was happening to you because you were dreaming a dream that refrained you from resisting your boyfriend.

I know you want it. Fuck… I know you want my cum, (M/N). He paused briefly to press his forehead into yours, sweat dripping off his face and onto your body in his maneuver, and breathed languidly against your lips to find the parting in order to breathe his lewd thoughts into you. Bruce was careless, dangerously brave as he slipped a tongue inside of you to spread your mouth open further. You made a sound, but he muted it with a swallow as he ravished you like honey on a spoon. Remnants of mint lingered on his tongue, and as much as he wanted to continue tasting you, he needed to relieve himself.

He was close.

Carefully, he dragged himself over your chest and kneeled over your chest. Bruce’s cock hung heavy above your slumber, dripping in thick strings of pre-cum from the plump tip—a shameful exhibit of how much this had turned him on, how much he had been deprived of this act for so long.

Open wide. It was morbid. Bruce never thought himself of ever once doing this obscene act, but the guilt that had been the cause of his apprehension was only fleeting the moment he pushed his cock into your sleeping mouth. 

“Oh, fuck…” He was careful with you. Careful enough to not stir you awake, but courageous enough to fulfill his sense of greed. Bruce pushed deeper, and deeper until he couldn’t anymore. His thick cock steadied your breathing and in favor, your saliva warmed him with complete gratitude.

Come on, I know you can take it… His eyes darkened at your inability to take his girth. As much as it sounded like a threat, it drove him delirious knowing you couldn’t. Even in your waking moments, it fueled a sense of pride when you gagged on his cock, covered him in bubbly thick spittle, and looked like an absolute mess while attempting to swallow him again.

Fuck, (M/N)... You’d pull him out when you had enough of gagging on his cock and jerk him off instead, catching your breath in the midst of it all. He never told you, but it was Bruce’s favourite part whenever you two did this together. The pure lust in your eyes, craving for a fill that you and him both know that he would deliver upon greatly. And somehow, as lewd as the act was, you both knew it was more than sex. You and Bruce were making love, fucking with a craving that you only have for each other because it was only you two that could bring this type of pleasure to one another. 

“Fuck—” Bruce paced himself, biting back an adamant moan, thrusting slow yet filling into your mouth as he held onto the headboard. The scrape of your teeth made him hiss, but the pleasure of your warm mouth was so fulfilling that it overwhelmed any painful feeling you’ve prescribed him to.

I’m close, (M/N)... Fuck, let me cum on you… On your body, on your face, I want it everywhere on you.

He released his cock from your mouth and took the heavy girth into his own palm, pumping the muscle with a sudden vigor that had been motivated to see you covered in his fluids. Bruce’s eyes rolled back into his lids, panting heavy and harder because he was so close—so fucking close. He could see you sticking your tongue out for him, on your knees, playing with your cum-covered cock as you would wait patiently for his reward. You would begin begging for it—his cum, his cock, him. You’d worship his body, mouthing at his toned thighs, then his abdominal muscles, licking the sweat off the gutters to briefly satiate your appetite for Bruce.

Until you were gifted with his indulgent desire for you and only you in the form of thick and creamy white ropes. “I’m comin—” Bruce’s stomach sucked in hard, his abs contracting while his thighs vibrated with tremors, then with a guttural push, he released himself with a strong grunt. His grasp directed his thick and heavy loads towards your chest and stomach, stroking his throbbing cock through the glorious sprays. He sucked in his teeth to control the sounds that were threatening to burst out of his throat and whimpered with a shudder when it was unmanageable, continuing to empty his balls until he could smell the heavy sex and musk off your body.

Scanning you from head to toe, Bruce was breathless. Despite his delirious stint, it was impressive to see you drifting off to sleep like nothing had happened. Or rather, it was impressive that he had a certain amount of control to not completely make love to you like a wild mammal, rousing you from sleep.

Nonetheless, he powered through the overwhelming need to sleep to clean you up, even if you hadn’t mind the mess. And like always, he never forgot to end his night with a kiss, pressing a chaste yet breathless pant to your lips.

“Think your way of ‘taking care of me’ needs more time in the workshop , but we’ll talk about it later.” 

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. andif you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

[requiemforthepoets]

paper crown of silver and gold 𖦹 CL16

leclerc!sister smau - part of the leclerc!reader series

SUMMARY: finally, it was your olympic debut—the one that you had been waiting for all your life. you had never expected that you’ll be advancing to the finals, battling for gold.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: my girl maxine was not able to move forward in the olympics, i’m hoping that she’ll compete again in 2028! the reader here (you) won, so just go with it lololol for the plot! i hope you’ll enjoy this one! :)

REMINDER: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect to the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WARNINGS: none

FACE CLAIM: maxine esteban + others that are found on pinterest. some are taken also from lee kiefer’s (another fav fencer of mine) ig posts.

ynleclerc

liked by pascale.leclerc.355, charles_leclerc, landonorris, lilyzneimer and 546,837 others

ynleclerc PARIS!! I’m ready for you! 🇫🇷

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arthur_leclerc GO FOR GOLD!! 🥇🇲🇨 ♡ liked by ynleclerc

ynleclerc already planning on it! 🫡 ♡ liked by arthur_leclerc

charles_leclerc we’ll see you in paris soon! gonna be bringing the gang with me! 🤩 ♡ liked by ynleclerc

ynleclerc pls lay off on the embarrassing signs 😁

charles_leclerc no promises, mon soeur

ynleclerc i’m telling maman 😤

charles_leclerc she couldn’t even stop me 😎

username1 Y/N OLYMPIC DEBUT LETS FUCKING GOOOOOO

landonorris WHAT ARE THOOOOOOSE! I’ll see you in Paris, loser ♡ liked by ynleclerc

ynleclerc i don’t accept any crocs slander in this household, norris. blocked!!!

landonorris I WAS JUST KIDDING 😔 pls don’t block me, you look very cute though

ynleclerc ikr

landonorris 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

charles_leclerc 🤨

username2 y/n is going to win gold, i can feel it

username3 to those people who’s hating on her just bc she transferred nationality, it’s on sight

pascale.leclerc.355 Mon Ange, I’ll see you in Paris, okay? Je vous aime 😘 ♡ liked by ynleclerc

ynleclerc yes maman!! love you!! 🫶🏻

username4 MY OLYMPIAN!!!

lilyzneimer can’t wait to watch you in action!! ♡ liked by ynleclerc

ynleclerc 🥺🥺🥺

username15 MOTHER COMING FOR THE GOLD 👏🏻

ynleclerc just posted a story!

viewed by 457,827 people

lilymhe I WONT BE ABLE TO COME BUT IM WITH YOU IN SPIRIT ♡ liked by ynleclerc

ynleclerc 😭😭😭 it’s okay!! i know that you be cheering for me :’)

lilymhe damn right i am 😤

ynleclerc OENDJSKS i love you!!

lilymhe I LOVE YOU TOO!!

lilymhe NOW GO WIN THAT GOLD, SUPERSTAR!

ynleclerc YES MA’AM! 🫡

lilymhe let’s spend a day together once olympics is over!!!

ynleclerc OMG YES

username5 GOOD LUCK QUEEN!

username6 I LOVE YOU

georgerussell Best of luck, y/n! ♡ liked by ynleclerc

ynleclerc thank you, georgie!

carmenmmundt Goodluck, y/n! We’ll be cheering you on, go for gold! ❤️ ♡ liked by ynleclerc

ynleclerc carmen!! thank youuu 🥺❤️ you won’t be coming to paris?

carmenmmundt unfortunately, we won’t be able to come to your match on time 😢 but George and I will see you soon! Love you!! ❤️

ynleclerc okay, love you too!! ❤️

teammonaco

liked by ynleclerc, charles_leclerc, lilymhe and 23,839 others

tagged: ynleclerc

teammonaco Thrilled to announce that ynleclerc has made it to the finals for the Women’s Individual Foil at the Paris 2024 Olympics! Let’s cheer her on as she aims for gold! 🤺🥇🇲🇨

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You have been waiting for this for a long time—some minor setbacks and emotional turmoil that you went through to get here was a testament of hard work. It has always been your life long dream of competing in the olympics and to represent Monaco on a global scale. Now that you have been given a shot in advancing to the finals and have a big chance of winning the gold, there is no holding you back from getting that gold, it is what you had been training for, and what you’ll continue training for in the coming years.

The Grand Palais had been transformed into a dazzling stage for the 2024 Olympics’ fencing competition. As you stood backstage, you can’t help but feel some nervousness bubbling inside of you. By just being stood behind the screens, you can feel the air of excitement as the crowd buzzed, eagerly waiting for your entrance.

Today for the finals, you are up against an old teammate from the Italian team, Sofia Rossi. You are good friends with her, but there’s just something about Sofia when she’s on the piste, she would sometimes get a little bit aggressive with her tactics when things are not going her way. So this made you a little bit nervous, but you kept a postive mind.

In the midst of of the charged atmosphere, the spotlight shifted to the entrance where you’ll be coming in, and the screen by the entrance had flashed your photo and the Monaco flag, causing the audience to erupt into cheers as the announcer’s voice boomed over the speakers, introducing you to the world.

“Ladies and gentlemen, representing Monaco, Y/N Leclerc!”

A wave of cheers and applause surged through the Grand Palais as you confidently stepped onto the piste. Clad in your fencing gear, with your foil clutched in your right hand. The crowd’s cheers grew louder as they caught sight of the Monaco flag on your breeches, a symbol of your new allegiance.

Glancing over at the stands where your support team was seated. Charles, Arthur, Lorenzo, and Pascale were all seated on the front, their faces beaming with pride, not missing how Charles had hollered together with Arthur, while Lorenzo and Pascale laughed at their silliness. Your close friends were also in attendance, Lando, Oscar, and Lily—who all waved at you enthusiastically, their support evident even from the distance by waving the obnoxious sign that they made. This had made you smile, it was F1’s summer break and they decided to come to support you on the first week of their vacation.

You made your way to your side of the piste, attaching the body cord and your coach bringing you your bag, grabbing your mask where it has been painted with the Monaco flag on it. The referee had signaled that the match is about to start, and give your coach a fist bump.

“You can do it. Just remember all your training, okay?” He reminded you and nodded at him.

The match had finally began, and it was intense, both you and Sofia are displaying remarkable skill and agility. Given with her aggressive tactics, she tried to catch you off guard with a low attack, but your reflexes were lightning fast and this is where your quick feet would come into play. As she lunged from below, you were able to leap away from her foil and managed to stretch out your arms so that you can touch her from the back, and this caused the crowd to gasp in awe at precision of the move—a remarkable display of tactical brilliance.

As the clock ticks down, you both are aiming to get fifteen points—locked in a fierce exchange of attacks and parries. Sofia’s attempt to close the distance, you performed a split to score a point, where you had managed to touch her torso with the tip of your foil despite her defensive stance.

With every touch, you could feel the excitement and pressure mounting. The final point ended up being yours, as the referee raised his hand signaling your victory, everyone in the arena erupted in cheers. You quickly removed your mask, tears are streaming down your face as you let out a triumphant scream—emotions are raw and the moment was palpable.

Sofia immediately hugged you and you hugged her back, congratulating her as well for winning silver. The moment you removed your body cord, your coach, family and friends rushed towards you, engulfing you in a hug. Grabbing the Monaco flag from your coach, you waved it high and proud as they lift you up in the air. Monaco had won its first Olympic gold, and you had been the one to make it happen.

The commentators were visibly moved and praised your performance with a heartfelt commentary.

“Unbelievable scenes here at the Paris 2024 Olympics as we witness a historic moment in fencing! Y/N Leclerc has secured the gold medal in the Women’s Individual Foil Finals, marking it the first-ever Olympic gold for Monaco! What an extraordinary display of perfomance from Leclerc. With incredible skill, precision and sheer determination, she had carved her name into Olympic history. The final bout was nothing short of a masterclass. The crowd is on their feet, and the emotions are high! This victory does not only brings home the gold but also writes a new chapter in Monaco’s Olympic legacy. It’s a moment of national pride and jubilation, and what a way to make history. Congratulations to Y/N Leclerc—you’ve made not only us proud, but you made the whole Monaco proud!”

As the crowd’s cheers and applause continued to echo through the Grand Palais, you soaked in the glory of your victory. It was a dream realized, a testament to your hard work and dedication. Little you would be very proud that you had achieved an incredible feat in your journey.

ynleclerc

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ynleclerc man, i love winning for the haters 🥰 mandatory pic of the gold with the eiffel tower! 🇫🇷

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lilymhe THATS MY GIRL!!!! CONGRATS ON WINNING GOLD OMG 😭❤️ ♡ liked by ynleclerc

username7 OUR FENCING QUEEN

username8 how does it feel that she bagged the gold against your fav team 😘 haterusername1

haterusername1 whatever, rossi should’ve won this one 🙄 team italia is still much better

username9 haterusername1 stfu, stop spreading this kind of shit when you know damn well that she’s still very much good friends with her previous team. such a bitter ass that you are omg

haterusername2 she just got lucky lmao she’s not even that good 🙄

username9 haterusername2 no, stfu. she won fair and square, she won bc of her TALENT. you need to shut up honestly, being bitter gets you nowhere, loser!!!!

username10 OUH MISSMAAM THE CAPTION 😮‍💨

scuderiaferrari FORZA Y/N! ❤️ ♡ liked by ynleclerc

oscarpiastri a well deserved win! ♡ liked by ynleclerc

ynleclerc thanks, osc!! 🥺

lilyzneimer that’s my best friend everyone!! ❤️ ♡ liked by ynleclerc

ynleclerc 🤩🤩🤩

alexandrasaintmleux you.are.amazing!!!!! ♡ liked by ynleclerc

ynleclerc ALEX!!! Thank you, thank you!! 🥺 missed you at the match ☹️

alexandrasaintmleux don’t worry, as soon as you get back in monaco, we’ll be celebrating! ❤️

georgerussell63 Well done, y/n! You had Carmen and I on the edge of our seat during the match! ♡ liked by ynleclerc

charles_leclerc THAT’S OUR GIRL!!! OUR OLYMPIAN!!! Can’t wait for the next summer olympics to defend your gold title 🤩 ♡ liked by ynleclerc

ynleclerc the next olympic is still far away, charles…you need to calm down 😭 wdym defend…i’m 😭 pls calm down 😭 i love you, but calm down 😭😭😭😭

landonorris TIME TO PARTY!!! 🥳🎉 ♡ liked by ynleclerc

ynleclerc as my head of victory party committee, you may now proceed

oscarpiastri this might not end well…

ynleclerc now that osc mentioned it…lando pls keep it pg 🥹

landonorris i’ll try my best 🤪

ynleclerc lando…🥹🥹🥹

username11 what a great time to be alive

username12 y/n winning the gold and becoming a gold medalist in olympics…you’re never gonna hear the end of me people!! PREPARE TO BE SICK OF ME 🗣️

username13 are you sure you don’t want to become an f1 driver, queen? your reflexes are INSANE yo ♡ liked by ynleclerc

ynleclerc i’m good with fencing! 🤣 my brothers can handle being an f1 driver on their own, we don’t need another leclerc in f1! 🤣🤣🤣

username13 ODKFMDKJSJS I LOVE YOU 😭 CONGRATULATIONS ON WINNING GOLD!!! 😭

lewishamilton Congratulations, y/n! What a phenomal win! ❤️ ♡ liked by ynleclerc

ynleclerc thank you so much, lewis! 🥺

username14 a legend, an icon, the greatest of all time!

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ynleclerc and time

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tagged: ynleclerc

time “Y/N Leclerc is not laying down her sword anytime soon”

“In a breathtaking display of skill and determination, y/n has made history at the Paris 2024 Olympics by winning the first-ever gold medal for Monaco in the Women’s Individual Foil Fencing. This remarkable achievement not only places y/n at the pinnacle of her sport but also highlights Monaco’s growing presence on the global athletic stage.” writes lucyfeld. “Her journey to this moment has been marked by relentless training, unwavering focus, and an unyielding commitment to excellence.”

“With the national flag waving proudly behind her and the gold medal around her neck, y/n stood as a beacon of inspiration and excellence. Her victory at the Paris 2024 Olympics is not just a moment of personal triumph but a milestone for her country’s sporting legacy, paving the way for future generations to follow in her footsteps.”

Read the full essay in our bio.

Photograph by Hannah Peters—Getty Images.

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ynleclerc thank you so much for having me. it was such a pleasure ❤️

ynleclerc

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tagged: time

ynleclerc thank you so much for the wonderful opportunity, time ❤️ also, a little surprise…i’ll be this month’s issue cover!! how cool is that?! for the meantime, you can read the essay—link is on my bio!

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[tevanbuckley]

some low points from the ry*an g*zman interview because i need you all to feel my pain.

when talking about his celibacy (yes he uses that word): "I haven't entertained any interactions with any other females" — gave me the ick 0/10

uses the phrase "a woman's touch," to explain why women are inherently good at interior decorating(?) and that this skill is how women are able to enrich a successful man's life — side note: at no point do they talk about how men enrich women’s lives.

immediately after this the religious imagery takes a left turn and exits my frame of reference, bc instead of just asking "do you think you still have things to work on?" like a normal person, the host says "I want to know what one Thorn is in your flesh." — someone raised more religious than i was needs to chime in on if this is normal christian doctrine or a sign he might be in a cult. (is it a reference to the thorns in jesus' crown?)

ryan makes a weird comment about how "you've seen civilizations built on [a man in love]" — genuinely idk what the fuck this means — but it leads into a tangent about like, men as providers and how "I would do anything for my women."

"peace is key yeah we got enough problems in the world outside the house and so long as I come back to the house and I get peace," — maybe i'm being pedantic but the way he keeps framing woman as belonging in the home is 🚩🚩🚩🚩

"for the next woman I would have in my life I can see that they navigate their their problems and still offer peace to their men." — again 🚩🚩🚩🚩🚩🚩🚩🚩

surprisingly claims he has been to therapy, which assuming is true, idk it worked.

the host: "women may be fighting internal battles you know kind of themselves do you believe that a woman still fighting those battles are able to still bring peace" — because remember ladies, no matter what you're going through your job is to bring peace to your man's home.

there's some more brief gender essentialist bs where ryan talks about how men "like to fix things," but are bad listeners, and how "problems within women are so specific to women that I wouldn't even try and and say that I have a grasp on them."

then the host randomly asks him if he thinks men need to be financially stable before entering a relationship or if dating a broke guy is a way to "present loyalty."

weirdly ryan actually kind of dodges this question, but ends up suggesting social media is a good place to get "great examples of what does and what doesn't seem to work." in relationships — and no. no it isn't.

oh and then he starts talking about conor mcgregor for some reason? and how it's bad he disrespected his wife by stepping outside their marriage — and i mean sure, although infidelity feels second to the rape accusations??

says it's harder for a woman to come into a man's life when he's already established because "now the man has proven to himself that he never needed a woman." — which, interesting given how later he talks about how women need to stop trying to do the independent woman thing.

he also gets weirdly possessive over his daughter at one point. does the classic "God forbid I find out that man disrespects my little baby." — idk, on the surface he talks about how he wants her to know her value, but it seems like he has a pretty limited view of what that value is.

the host drops lore about how she moved out of her parents house at 14/15 and how she had to "stop thinking like a woman and start thinking also like a man," but stay feminine and "know what a man wants and how to cater to that but also still be soft." — i mean good lord, i don't even know where to start 🤢.

this btw is the preamble to ryan's rant about "independent women."

and god the more i read the more i am deeply concerned about the woman hosting (i saw someone earlier say she's 21). this woman is barely an adult and has so much internalised misogyny, talking about how "us women don't know how to direct our emotions." and "in today's generation a lot of men are deprived of even the small things because a lot of women are takers."

this whole interview is utterly bizarre and i feel like it's taken years off my life. like i said earlier, this isn't a normal podcast he got weird on, this is straight up christian propaganda

[bueckers-sturniolo]

the alchemy.

paige x fem!teammate! reader

word count: 2k!

warnings: uhhh, cursing? literally one suggestive-ish comment, if i think of anymore ill come back and lyk!

authors note: HIIII! this is my first time ever writing anything whatsoever, and i can’t tell if i genuinely enjoy or really hate this. you gotta start somewhere though, right? 🤔🤔🤔

go read part two here!

this happens once every few lifetimes; these chemicals hit me like white wine…

you and paige were inseparable. it didn’t go unnoticed by fans, not by any means. you were a year younger than paige, you started playing for uconn her sophomore year. as soon as this was announced, paige followed you on everything, immediately commenting on any post the uconn instagram page made about you, commenting something along the lines of just saying your name in all caps with a bunch of emojis, or even, when she was feeling bold, “Theres our girl! 🤩🙌 (or, ‘my girl’ if she was feeling silly that day),” and even on your own, individual posts about yourself, she’d like and comment some form of encouragement or a subtle compliment just to hype you up, as she does the rest of the team.

she couldn’t deny her nearly unbearable attraction toward the minute she first had laid eyes on you. even if it was over a tiny screen. the first time she saw you was when geno had shown the team videos of you playing and explained to them who you are, where you’re from, what position you play, and all other things they should know. you were around 5’10, and you were a point guard. you had gotten a scholarship to uconn, and obviously, you took it up. the first time paige physically saw you play, she knew you two would become close. not only working together on the court, during games and practices, but also, off of the court.

and you guys did. by the time the season started, you were sure you guys were unstoppable. every practice, you guys were fully locked in, becoming an outstanding duo together. that is, until, she got a tibial plateau fracture. she sat out a whopping 19 games after her surgery, and it was sad to see. she was such a powerful player, and now one of your best friends. games and practices didn’t feel nearly as good without her, but she made you promise that you’d work everyday to improve your already very strong talent, to play for ‘the both of you,’ as she said. she’d come to practices, games, and even just to your personal training sessions to provide some form of support.

what if I told you I’m back? the hospital was a drag, worst sleep that I ever had, I circled you on a map; I havent come around in so long, but im coming back so strong.

as soon as paige was cleared by doctors to begin playing again, she worked several hours, every single day. she came back as a fucking beast. since the day she got cleared and started working her ass off, she earned the nickname ‘sniper’ from you. your nickname for her was ‘killer,’ which, is kinda where she got the idea for sniper. you both were very powerful point guards. every day since she came back, you were amazed by just how hard she was working to get back up to her already impressive level of skill. and as time went on, she got even better than before. from the wise words of your guys’ coach, geno, she literally ‘came back better than she was when she was named player of the year.’

so when I touch down, call the amateurs and cut ‘em from the team, ditch the clowns, get the crown. baby, im the one to beat. cause the sign on your heart said it’s still reserved for me. honestly, who are we to fight the alchemy?

one night, after a practice, you guys are sitting on your couch, scrolling on your phones in the living room of your apartment. she was over there often. you didn’t live in a dorm, but she did, so this is where you typically hung out. you didn’t get a dorm, for mainly one reason, living on campus is expensive. you personally thought that if you were gonna pay so much to live somewhere, might as well be somewhere bigger than the dorms at uconn. your parents somehow agreed, and helped you through paying for it your first few years. you’re now a junior, and paige is a senior. though, she was technically going into her junior year of playing basketball, but it was her last year as a uconn ‘student.’ over the past several months, it’s been…. flirty, to say the least. you’ve always been not ‘just friends,’ but, you never talked about it. it was just ‘normal’ to you guys. you had talked about to kk once, and the conversation didn’t really help. at all. not in the fucking slightest.

“well, i mean… yeah, we all notice it. she just…. acts so different around you…? it’s not a bad difference, per se… it’s just like, why the fuck is she so nice to you? she’s constantly like… on her knees praising you. it’s crazy, lowkey. but none of us wanna say that, so we kinda just have accepted it all season.” kk says, finally looking up from her phone at me, sitting on the edge of her bed, giving her a ‘please help me’ look.

i stare at her for a few seconds, then sigh. is it actually different? does she really do that, or is kk just exaggerating, like she always does?

“kk, i don’t- i don’t know, dude. i don’t notice it. it’s just- like-“ kk interrupts me, knowing i couldn’t find the words to explain what i was feeling, “normal to you?”

i nod, putting my face in my hands and letting out another sigh. “yeah, i get that. but, also… like, how do you not notice it? it’s like- remember that guy she said she had a crush on, like- 7 months ago or some shit?” she said, sighing.

“yeah, why?” i say, my eyebrows furrowing in confusion on where the fuck she could possibly be going with this.

“she literally flirted with you more than she flirted with him. then, she rejected him, and said there was ‘no reason behind it….’ is that not suspiscious to you? in that one picture of you guys and the weird ass dude she apparently liked, she’s leaning closer to you than she is him? does that not even slightly spark a tad bit of suspiscion?” kk says, getting frustrated that im not seeing her point here.

“i mean- no? i didn’t even notice it, kk.” I say, shaking my head in disbelief. “exactly my point,” kk says, sitting up to really try to get her point across. “she acts like she’s in love with you, and heaven forbid you notice it even slightly. i could name so many things that just, like- we have all noticed, and paige knows we’ve noticed. like, that time that one bitch was pushing you on the court the entire game, and paige eventually got pissed off and pushed her back off of you, then got a fucking technical foul over it…? or, how about when she gets drunk, she literally is all over you. like, hugging you, holding you, falling asleep on the couch with you literally on top of her? is that not somehow making you just use that little brain in your head?” kk says, and i just stare in thought. maybe she was right. maybe it is more than a close friendship.

you snap out of your thoughts as paige says your name, looking over at her. “yeah?” you say, trying to seem cool.

“are you okay? you just spaced out for like…. 10 minutes…” paige says, turning her phone off sitting her it down on her chest. “oh, yeah,” I say, chuckling. that’s fucking embarrassing, you thought. but why wouldn’t she notice it? she notices everything about you.

“y’know… you did really good today,” paige says smiling at you. you smile too, looking down at your hands, “thanks. you literally always do good, so. no point in boosting your ego any more than it already is.” you say, looking back up to meet her gaze.

“i call you killer for a reason, you know that, right? you’re fucking phenomenal.” and she meant it. you were a goddess, in her eyes. if there was any person closest to heaven on this earth. it’s you. everything about you. she couldn’t get enough of you, and if it was up to her, she’d show you just how perfect you are to her. you smile, shaking your head in disbelief. “you’re insane.”

“im literally complimenting you, idiot- how does this make me insane,” paige says, laughing. you shrug, shaking your head. “you know, you’re my bestfriend, right? like, the best, best-friend i’ve ever had? ” paige says, after a few seconds of silence. you look back up, your gaze softening, your big grin also softening into a sweet smile. kk was right, you thought. you knew what that was. you knew what she meant. she is in love.

hey, you. what if I told you we’re cool? that child’s play back in school is forgiven under my rule. i havent come around in so long, but I’m making a come-back to where I belong.

you sit in your room in silence, staring at the ceiling. you keep replaying things in your mind, things she’s said. things she’s done. you knew you liked girls, you knew you liked paige. but, at what cost? did your whole friendship form from the attraction you guys had from the start? was this random to her? were you guys ever going to talk about it? this whole situation is ridiculous. right now, paige is visiting her family in minnesota. you’ve met them before, and you loved her little brother, drew, like your own brother. he was precious to you. but, this time you didn’t go, you had to stay back and practice. which, sounds ridiculous to paige given that you’re already the best player in the world to her. but, you knew you’d been slacking on practicing and certain skills you were supposed to be good at. you didn’t want to let her down. or the team, of course. but, paige specifically.

these bloakes warm the benches, we’ve been on a winning streak. (s)he jokes that it’s heroin but this time with an ‘e.’

today, you guys had a game. you were always pretty hard on yourself, but, today was worse. paige noticed this, quickly. as she always does. right before halftime, you shoot a three. you make it, but, it still was kinda sloppy. not all of your shots were sloppy, of course. but, today you felt like shit and were on your period. you didn’t feel great, and you were pissed off that the girl guarding you was on your ass all damn game. the girl in question was no other than kate martin, who was always on your ass specifically, when you guys played iowa. it was infuriating, and not to mention that you kept getting fouls called on you by a ref who clearly doesn’t realize that kate won’t stay off of your case. as soon as half-time hits, you walk over to the bench, muttering a ‘holy fucking shit’ under your breath. you sit down, paige immediately following after you, sitting beside you.

“hey, killer…. it’s okay, i promise. you’re doing so, so good.” paige says, leaning closer to you trying to reassure you in a soft, gentle tone.

“doesnt feel like it.” you say, grumpily, grabbing your water and taking a drink of it. “i know, but hey,” she says, smiling. “you’re fuckin’ killing it. if it makes you feel any better, you scored and knocked her down because of how close she was to you, maybe she’ll back off. but…” she says, pausing. “do not get a tech because of her.” you look over at her, slowly nodding. “yeah, im trying. but, the next time she gets in my face, i’m knocking her to the fucking ground again.” you say, quietly. paige smiles, “no being too aggressive… i mean, yes, be aggressive. but, no techs.”

“yeah, yeah. okay, idiot face. i’ll try.” you say and paige smiles wider, shaking her head.

as the game continues, we’re up by a solid two points. youre now in the last 45 seconds of the game. iowa has the ball, clark scores a 3 on paige. of fucking course, you think.

kk gets the rebound, and we get the ball, finally. with now only 30 seconds left, you’re panicking. you’re losing by one damn point. geno calls a time out out to the ref, the ref granting him this and you all huddle over. paige leans over to you, mumbling a, “you’ve got this, killer. im leaving this up to you. you won’t let me down.” you smile, nodding. she smiles at you for a few seconds. she is so whipped, and it’s obvious. you’re addicting. you’re like heroin, but with a fucking ‘e,’ paige thinks.

shirts off, and your friends lift you up over their heads. beer sticking to the floor, cheers chanted, cause they said, “there was no chance, tryna be the greatest in the league.” where’s the trophy? (s)he just comes runnin’ over to me.

as the game resumes, the ball is passed to paige. 15 seconds. the time is ticking, so, so fast. paige does a pump fake, immediately passing the ball to you. you catch it, turning slightly so you can dribble around martin, who’s still on your ass. you nearly lose the ball. you’re wasting too much time time, you think. you glance up at the clock. 5 seconds. you try to think fast, then quickly preform a fake pass to paige, then as soon as kate turns her attention toward paige, you shoot directly behind the point the three-point line, and you make it. the buzzer sounds. you look over at the score counters, wondering if it’s able to be counted. they announce it is, and you feel like you’ve never been happier than in that damn moment. your entire team is screaming, all of the fans in the bleachers standing up and cheering. you place your hands on your knees, leaning down and panting while smiling. that’s when you see paige, her shirt is lifted up so her stomach is showing, still cheering. smiling ear to ear, she suddenly runs over to you from across the court. she hugs you, picking you up and spinning you around.

this type of shit only happens once every few lifetimes. who are you to deny your love for her any longer? who are you to fight the general chemistry between you two? who are you to fight the alchemy?

a/n: RAHHHHHH I HOPE YOU LOVED IT IM SORRY IF IT SUCKS ASS!!!! IF YOURE READING THIS RN I LOVE YOU SO MUCH

[unreliablesnake]

Surprises (Simon "Ghost" Riley x reader)

Summary: Price finds out at a family gathering that his favorite niece's new boyfriend is none other than Ghost. The lieutenant thinks he's in trouble. How bad can things be?

Note: A little fluff and angst. What do you think? / If you want to know when I post new stuff, follow @unreliablesnakefics and hit the get notifications button.

Simon knew he fucked up the moment he realized you were Price's niece.

The very niece he babysat several times when you were little, the one he talked so much about whenever they were discussing family. He loved you, he was proud of you, and despite you now being an independent young woman, he still treated you as if you were an expensive and rare piece of jewelry that had to be locked away.

So yes, when he attended a family event you invited him to and met the captain there, he knew he was in trouble. You had talked about your Uncle John before, sure, even joked about the two of them possibly knowing each other, but not even in his wildest dream could he suspect the two men being the same.

And now he was sitting there across from him at the long picnic table in the garden, his blue eyes piercing through his skull. Every time you intertwined your fingers with his on top of the table or leaned over to place a soft kiss on his cheek, he could almost hear the annoyed groan leave his lips.

You suddenly rested your head on his shoulder, smiling sweetly when he looked down at you. He couldn't help himself, he just followed his instincts when he leaned down to place a kiss on the crown of your head. That move made the captain snap.

"Simon, why don't you help me bring out some nice, cold drinks?"

He gulped before nodding, his entire body suddenly going rigid from the terror he felt. "Hey, he barks, but doesn't bite. You'll be fine," you assured him as you kissed his shoulder through his shirt.

With a sigh, he stood up and followed Price into the kitchen, carefully closing the door after himself. "Look, Cap, I didn't know she was your niece. I'm sorry. But trust me, I'm serious about this relationship. I really like her," he began to explain the situation without hesitation.

But Price didn't seem interested in his excuses as he was quick to raise a hand to stop him. "I don't care, Simon. She likes you too, it's obvious and she told me before, I just don't want her to suffer if…"

If he dies on the field. That's what he wanted to say, he knew that. Nodding, he leaned against the kitchen island and folded his arms over his chest. The two of them stood there in silence for a while, trying to figure out what to do now. Simon understood why Price was so worried about this relationship, but he also had to understand that he wasn't about to give you up.

"Would you be happier if she was dating a civilian? Some loser who doesn't even know what he wants to do with his life?" he asked to break the silence.

Price drew in a sharp breath that he let out while running a hand through his hair. It was easy to tell he was dying to light a cigar, but his sister had a strict no smoking in the house rule. So he settled with the second best option and began pacing in front of him.

"You, as a person, are not the problem, Simon," he began. "You're a good man, I know that. The problem is our line of work. And the fact I'm your higher-up, and now I have to think about you not only as my right hand, but also as the boyfriend of my favorite niece. Every time I send you somewhere dangerous, I'll have to consider how she would react if something happened to you."

With a loud gulp, Simon considered his reasoning. He was right. Everything he said was understandable. "If you think it would be better if we broke up, just say it," he told him eventually.

There was no response for a while, they stood there in silence once again. But then Price shook his head and extended his hand. "Just make her happy, that's all I'm asking for," he said with a smile. "And don't tell her that we know each other. I don't want her to worry."

Hesitantly, but Simon shook his hand. He had no idea what made the captain change his mind, but he didn't have an issue with that as long as he was okay with him being with you. He then opened the fridge and began to put a selection of drinks on the counter next to it.

Once they made it back to the family, you immediately gave him a worried look, silently asking for a story he wasn't about to give you. So he lied like Price had just asked him to do, even if it hurt like hell.

"Everything's fine, he just wanted to get to know me," he told you with a smile before giving you a quick kiss. "We're good."

"Sure?" you asked with a suspicious look on your face. Simon nodded. "All right, if you say so. I'm glad he likes you," you noted with a smile on your lips.

Before he could say anything, Price raised a hand. "If I might add, you chose well, kiddo," he said with a smile before flashing a smile at the lieutenant.

"I know," you said with a triumphant smile before giving Simon a kiss.

[makethatelevenrings]

Day 11: Lingerie w/ Bruce Wayne

Kinktober Masterlist

“You’re trying to kill him,” Diana mused from beside you. A smirk settled across your lipstick stained lips and you tried to cover it up by bringing your champagne flute up.

“I have no idea what you mean,” you hummed. It was Bruce’s idea to hold a charity gala on your wedding anniversary. You were just playing the part of a good, doting wife.

“You’re the only person able to fuck with his head so, frankly, I encourage it. Besides, you look good.”

The Amazonian’s eyes darted over your form appreciatively and you nudged her with your elbow, your grin firmly settling into place.

“Now, Diana, you’re testing him.” You were well aware of the stares you were garnering, especially the heavy gaze of your husband. The diamond on your finger caught the light and gleamed at him from across the room. The diamond he had placed years earlier and, conveniently, forgot the date when planning this gala.

“I could take him in a fight,” she muttered into her wine. Your laughter echoed through the ballroom and even more faces turned to stare at you. You winked at a couple standing nearby and the man flushed a bright red.

Listen, maybe you were playing with fire.

But maybe your husband made you play dress up on the one night a year you made him stay home and dote on you. So sue you. He might be vengeance, but you weren’t a simple flower either. Bruce married you because you were one of the only people that went toe to toe with him without backing down. Some might call him foolish. Tabloids stated that he should have settled down with a quieter woman.

Bruce was delighted by you, sharp tongue and all. In fact, he regularly let you loose on anyone who pissed him off. Lex Luthor was your usual target but you had yet to see his shiny head.

“Oooo, here he comes,” Diana sang. “I’m going to steal some hors d'oeuvres. Have good sex.”

  You raised your champagne flute in farewell and cheers. “Will do.”

Bruce made his way through the crowd, his blue eyes fixed on you. With a dismissive wave of your hand, you turned around and started to walk towards the doors that led to the main part of the manor. You knew that he would follow. His pursuit was nearly silent as he slipped through the crowds easily. He was Bruce Wayne yet, at the same time, the Batman was helping him melt in the shadows and away from the people milling about who wanted to ask him inane questions.

You slipped out of the ballroom and into the hallway that led to the main foyer and then up the stairs to the family portion of the manor. The top of the line security system recognized you instantly and didn’t trip any alarms. You drifted down the hallway towards the main bedroom, noting that the sounds of footsteps had silenced.

A hand enclosed around your elbow and you turned to face Bruce. The light from the chandelier framed you, a halo of light licking at your head and crowning you with gold. It lit up the thin metallic filigree that lined the edges of your dress and dipped against the deep v-cut of the top that went down, down, down, revealing the lacy black bra you wore underneath.

“You will be the death of me one day,” he whispered, reverence in every word. Bruce reached up and touched your neck where the diamond necklace he gave you last anniversary rested.

“I hope not,” you hummed. “I plan on keeping you around for a long, long time.”

You pulled away from him and continued your walk to your bedroom. As you walked, you reached up and clasped the zipper that rested low on your back. Unzipping it, you let your dress pool at your feet, revealing the black teddy you wore underneath.

The lace pulled snugly across your breasts, cupping you in the right places and adding lift, and draped across your stomach before the hem ended just at the lack of fabric covering your pussy, an open cutout just for him.

“Happy anniversary, Mr. Wayne,” you said. “I bought this with your card, by the way.”

His hands reached for the tie wrapped around his throat and you smirked before heading towards the bed. The door slammed behind you, lock clicking into place.

Worked every time.

[meganmeyers]

POMEGRANATES & WINES

ACT TWO: DRIFTWOOD THRONE

jacaerys velaryon x aunt!targtower oc

word count: 11.5k

previous part: part one

masterlist: intro

warnings/includes: fighting, internalized religious trauma, body dystrophia, angst, self loathing, psychological trauma, alicent is an awful mother and gives averillia all her issues, sexual awakening (not smut she’s like a little baby still.), eye fucking across the dinner table but not really and it’s really awkward, jacaerys causes intense sexual tension but doesn’t realize it because he’s kinda an idiot, averillia is lowkey a freak and severely touch starved, but she’s also afraid of intimacy(?), jacaerys is also a freak but he’s a teenage boy going though puberty so cut him some slack, first kiss, borderline freakiest kiss between two hormonal mid puberty teens i’ve ever seen.

Summary: Princess Averillia Targaryen was the 5th born child of Viserys Targaryen and Alicent Hightower in 117 A.C. Close in age to her nephew Jacaerys Velaryon a close friendship formed in between the two vicious families.

Note: Hello everyone! Thank you for the love on the first part! I’ll mention now that this part will get into some more darker themes. I’ll probably be rewriting the first part of this series as well, I’ve felt that I could have added more to the story than what I had done. Also! This next part is not canon timeline accurate! Instead of six years it will be four years!

Princess Averillia was not seen by the royal court much after the incident at Driftmark. The Princess was hidden in her rooms or upon the skies with her dragon mount. Nobody saw the young princess roam the halls of the Keep or even attend meetings of the court. Some believed that Queen Alicent Hightower had locked her away in her bedroom as a punishment for being involved in the maiming of Prince Aemond Targaryen. As if the princess receiving her first ever course was not enough humiliation for the young girl. The people only saw the princess when she was dragged to the Sept by her mother. During those rare times in public the princess did not ever look happy, more terrified in fact. She would stand as far behind or away from the Queen as appropriately possible. The maids in the Keep gossip on how the only people ever seen entering and leaving the princesses apartments were her personal maids and the lady in waiting she was given. Some noble girl from the Dornish lands of house Dayne, quiet the spectacle considering the relations between Dorne and the conflicts in the stepstones against the crown. The girl was no older than ten maybe when she arrived to the Keep. She was a small girl who was quiet and always kept her head down, the queen must have liked her quiet nature to keep her around in the Keep after these many moons. The only thing the small Dornish girl received from home was pomegranates. The reddish and pink fruit grows in warmer and dryer climates. The girl did receive many fabrics and dresses at times, but no letters or ravens ever arrived for the young lady, many in the court speculated something scandalous happened but in Dorne and that’s why the young girl was sent to serve in enemy territory.

“My Lady, you mustn’t stain your dress now! I don’t need to hear anymore from your maids about how awful it is the try and scrub the juice from your skirts!”, The young darker haired lady complained to the princess. The young princess turned to look at the girl from her couch, “How many times have I told you Elia! It’s Illia to you not ‘My Lady’. You are my only friend not someone my mother and father employs.”. “Friend or not, you still mustn’t stain your dresses.”, The young girl hit the princess on the top of her head with a letter. The darker girl made herself comfortable on the opposite end of the couch across from the blonde princess.

“I’ve found some news that shall brighten your day. Possibly get you to stop lounging around your room, draped in fabrics that barley cover you.”, The girl had teased the princess for her habits. She did indeed lounge around in her room draped in fabrics Elia’s family sent her. Modesty was lost on her return from Driftmark, especially after the princess had Elia arrive as a lady in waiting for her services. The two girls had shared stories with one another during the early nights in each other’s company. Elia had told her about how women and men dress and act down in Dorne and the differences of women and men here in the crownlands. Averillia had found the stories fascinating and thought the fabrics in the dresses Elia wore were the softest fabrics she’d ever felt. The princess often wore the fabrics in lounge wear or had them made into the underskirts of her dresses. The fabrics were very sheer, only to be worn in the privacy of her personal staff.

“What news do you bring me that will, as you say brighten my day?”, Illia ended her sentence in a sarcastic tone. “Court is to be held on the legitimacy in the driftwood throne on who will inherit, now that the sea snake has fallen ill. W-“ The lady had been interrupted by the princess letting out a loud and annoyed sound of disgust. She rolled herself off the couch and over to the table filled with drinks and other treats to pour herself a glass of wine. “Must you drink now? Gods Illia, its barley mid-day and I haven’t even finished the news. You may grow a gut like Aegon’s if you intend to drink this much.”. Illia turned around towards the girl who now leaned over the arm of the couch she had just been resting upon, a disgusted face greeted the girl when the princess turned. “Never compare me to that disgusting drunkard again! Gods do you hate me so to wish that fate upon me?”. Elina had rolled her eyes at Illia’s dramatics and just went back to the letter, “Because court is to be held, the princess Rhaenyra’s family will be arriving in Kings Landing on the marrow and be staying for a weeks’ time while court is being held. Isn’t that exciting Illia? You’ll get to see Rhaenyra, Jacaerys, and-“, “I’ll have to watch my mother and grandsire completely belittle my sister and nephews again because of some resentment my mother and sister hold. Sounds like another fight waiting to break out again.”. The blonde took a long drink from the glass of wine she poured, “Illia why can’t you see the good in this? All you do every day is lounge around and read books or work on silly needle work.”. “My needle work isn’t silly! You’ve told me many times that it’s beautiful and quiet elegant and that its even more elegant than Helaena’s work!”.

Elina was often seen asking the Queen for permission to either leave the castle grounds for errands for the princess or sitting in court without the princess to hear of what news and gossip is shared among the ladies in high court. While she’s out she does often run into the Queen in Princess Helaena’s chambers with the two young children the princess carried. She’s seen the beautiful needlework Illia’s sister created that decorates the twin children’s clothes and blankets during her few times in the chambers of the elder princess.

“Illia can you at least try and see the good in this? For an entire week you get to visit with your eldest sister and those two boys of hers who adore you! So quit being such a poisonous viper and enjoy their company while they are here.”

“Fine. Whatever, but if my mother makes any comment- “, “Oh gods Illia! I’ll be right there with you, I won’t let you face that cruel women alone.”

The family arrived half by ship and the other half by dragon back on the following marrow. The dragon shadows that had flown past her windows confirmed the princess’s waiting’s.

Two carriages had pulled into the courtyard of the Red Keep while the Princess was seen sprinting and hopping steps in a blur of light blue, white, and golden honey blonde with her Lady following in close proximity in a blur of dark blues and gold with black hair flying behind her.

The family was exiting their carriages, while waiting for them was the Queen dressed in a dark color of green and her three other children dressed in the similar shades of greens. Other members of the court stood waiting to greet the royal family. As they had settled themselves on the ground and had their traveling cloaks and dress covers removed, they turned back to the members of the court. The doors of the castle opened quickly and an out of breathe Princess Averillia and an equally out of breath Lady Elia Dayne had rushed to stand in line with the green-styled family. Frantically adjusting their hair and dresses, trying to at least be a bit more presentable.

Prince Jacaerys Velaryon wouldn’t have recognized the princess if it wasn’t for her opposed color palette to the rest of her family. Her hair had gotten longer, and her face slimmed out of the childish fat he had last seen her with. She had truly grown into a more women body for a girl at the age of three and ten. Her hips had widened, and her breasts had gotten into a larger womanly shape, but they might just only look bigger compared to the slimness of the rest of her, he could see her collarbones from across the courtyard and her ribs were slightly visible through her gown. She was still beautiful, nevertheless to him. The girl next to her was a girl he did not know. She was a slightly darker skinned girl with black hair and purple eyes, she looked Dornish, but the eyes did not resemble the color of Dornish people. She had on a gown of dark blue fabrics with golden lace decorations and goldish color necklaces and headwear. She had a dark blue veil on as well. He did not recall a girl that looked like her during his years at the Keep.

“Princess Rhaenyra! Welcome back to Kings Landing. I hope the journey here was not to much trouble?”

Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen was dressed in a dark red gown decorated with black trims and lace; in her arms she held a bundle wrapped in a blanket. Prince Daemon Targaryen stood next to her holding a small white-haired boy, Illia had heard the news of her sister and uncles’ marriage but nothing about children born of said marriage. Next to them four children stood, three boys with black hair and a girl with white curly hair wrapped into a updo that looked like something Illia would not sit through. Her eyes had turned to Jacaerys, He had grown sense she’d seen him last. He had gotten taller and slimmed himself down, his jaw was more angled than before and his cheeks he had were gone. His hair was short but had curled locks upon it rather than the thick fluff of hair he used to have. He was holding a small boy who also had dark hair, it had to be Joffrey Velaryon. She remembers seeing him the day of his birth but never again, not even at Driftmark four years ago.

“Thank you, Your Grace. It is unexpected to be back so soon.”, Queen Alicent had given a smile and quickly rushed her children dressed in greens back inside with members of the court following, leaving only Averillia and Elina in the courtyard. The princess waited for the doors to be closed before starting off sprinting at Jace. The teen prince quickly handed his younger brother to Rhaena before capturing the golden-haired princess in a tight embrace. He had taken a couple staggered steps back at the force of the impact from the teenage princess but nevertheless held her close. A few laughs were heard from the elder couple at the princess’s excitement. Lady Elina had walked up to the royal family offering her greetings.

“Princess Averillia, I believe there are other members of the party who also wish to greet you.”, the princess had loosed her embrace on the teenage boy and turned to her friend with a very unamused face, which in turn made the lady laugh at her friend before pointing her head towards the eldest sister. Illia had broken herself from Jace’s arms and walked to Rhaenyra and hugged her, avoiding crushing the small bundle in her arms. “Is this your mothers old dress, little sister?”, the girl had given a small smile before confirmed her eldest sisters’ suspicions.

“Come sweet girl, we must catch up. It’s been far to long sense we’ve spoken.”

The family had gotten comfortable in the elder princess’s old apartments, maids had hurried to bring in sweets and refreshments for the royal family before making their leaves quickly.

“Now sister who are these two children? I don’t believe we’ve been introduced!”. “This one is Aegon, and the newest one is Viserys.” Rhaenyra had passed her sister the small infant to hold. Elina leaned over Illia’s shoulder to look at the infant closely. The babe slept peacefully in the princess’s arms, “Sister when shall you have a girl? You’ve had far too many boys, I may be sick of seeing boys between my brothers and your sons.”. Rhaenyra laughed at her sisters jokes knowing in truth she was correct. Jace and Luke who had been sitting on the opposite couch let out a few remarks back towards the princess who in turn just poked her tongue out of her mouth. “Now who is this lady sitting next to you, Illia? I’m afraid I don’t recognize her.”

“I am Elina Dayne, of House Dayne in Dorne, Your Grace. I am Lady in Waiting to Princess Averillia Targaryen, Your Grace.”, Illia turned to her friend with only a few words to reply. “Quit calling me Averillia, It’s to much of a mouthful.”. The family had all laughed at the girls’ antics, “She is also my only friend and companion here in this dreadful place. Isn’t that right Viserys?”. The girl had talked to the young babe in a silly voice to try and entertain the babe, but he just kept sleeping peacefully. “Sister, I must retire now. I have lessons to attend, and Gods forbid I miss them.” The princess handed her youngest nephew back to her eldest sister before making her way out the door.

“Elina, you can run any errands you need too. My lessons will take up much of my time.”. The dark haired girl nodded before going in the opposite direction of the princess through a different corridor. The girl made haste to her own apartments after her friend left her sight. Closing the door of her room closed, she found nobody inside her chambers. “Thank the Gods.”. Illia had looked towards her desk at the stack of papers, scrolls, and books from her Septa. She hated many topics they taught her, they bored her entirely. She would rather fall upon a sword than be stuck learning forever.

Her complaining would not make the books and scrolls go away anyways, she has learned that the harder way. She just grabbed her needle hoop and went back to the blanket she was decorating. She found a place along one of her rooms windows and had gotten comfortable. The window gave her a clear view of the training yard which was always much of an annoyance hearing the men yell and the metal hit against one another constantly but it’s different when she caught a glimpse of Jace and Luke standing along the outskirts. Even from up high she could see how much Jace had changed in the last four years. He had indeed grown into a handsome man. His curly hair did amplify his looks and aided well with his face shape. Gods she has not seen a man look so handsome in years, or possibly ever. His Valyrian features was one of the seller points for her sudden attraction towards him, his jaw, cheek bones, and the dark purple eyes had made him look even more like someone to belong to the Gods than with Man. She did wonder what was hidden under his doublet, did he also lose the boyish fat and built muscle along his upper torso and arms? Did the Gods bless him with such beauty for the rest of him as they had for just his face?

“Ouch!”

She had stuck herself with the sewing needle in her realm of thinking. Blood droplets quickly collected to the surface on her finger and dripped down to the floor.

“You foolish girl! You’ve ruin yourself for your future!”

She flung herself from the cushions she had been sitting on and quickly examined the cushion. No blood.

Those were the last words Alicent ever said to her. Months after the incident Alicent could not even be in the same room as her, she would just walk out of the room or have someone remove Averillia from the room. It was always one of Alicent’s maids to enforce her to get dressed to go to the Sept with her after she had gotten over herself. The entire trip she would not speak a word to her. She would just give the girl certain looks when she would do certain things. Dinners had turned sour fast, if the girl spoke any words or do anything unproper she would give Averillia this intense stare. If Alicent was angry enough she had the guards remove her from the table and sent to her chambers without being able to finish her meal. Soon she had started to be subjected to eating alone in her chambers. Isolated completely. Sometimes her father would have her join him for a meal in his chambers where they would have small discussions; but his condition has worsened, and he was unable to make it to the table. She was soon invited to her fathers’ chambers just for discussions, but her mother soon found out and forbade her from attending her own fathers company.

Complete Isolation.

After Driftmark her Septa, this older woman whose chin hung far over her neck covering; had taken her to the Sept for prayer, but not the normal prayer. Prayers that had talks of purity and virtue and how sacred such a gift is, how giving it to a man you’re not married to will destroy you. How the stranger will take you away and burn you for your sins. Pleasure and lust were sins against the Gods and blood was the punishment and shame for such a girl to bear if she ever thought and engaged in such sins. The girl cried during such prayers and sermons for still being shaken up by the events just mere weeks earlier. She had been isolated from her sister Helaena during this too. “She is to be a married women and lay with her husband before the Gods as a virgin maiden. Do not corrupt her as you have done for yourself.” She had not been allowed to Helaena’s wedding either due to that fact. She had that Septa for two years until Averillia had knocked over a lit candle stand causing the Septa to catch fire and soon strike the girl across the face with her hand. Her father had removed the Septa from the princesses’ services and replaced her with younger and peaceful Septa. She would sit and work on needlework while Averillia worked on her own studies and never brought her to the Sept for prayer.

Aemond would not speak to her ever. He never admitted to the truth of what happened that night either. The only family member she was able to speak to was Daeron. She would send ravens at least once every few weeks to him in Oldtown considering he was the only sibling who would even speak to her. She had the fear that her mother was going to ship her away to Oldtown for what she had done but her father did not allow it. Her grandsire Otto never spoke to her, even so he never did before anyways. He just hid in the shadows along the walls like a spider in a dark corner.

Illia was used to so little company that she did not need any at all.

Elina had returned hours later carrying in gowns and a bright smile, “Illia! You will never believe it.”. The girl had taken the gowns and thrown them on the couch before joining Illia on the mattress. “Rhaenyra had stopped me in the corridor, and she had insisted that you join her family for supper tonight! We must get you ready!”. Before Illia could even refuse the offer, Elina had dragged the girl from her bed to her washroom to an already filled tub of warm water. “Take off your clothes before I wash you with them still on!”

Elina had scrubbed her skin and covered her with soaps and oils with warm scents from the Dornish lands. She dried the princess and then started her hair and using even more oils to have her curls be more prominent. She had seen Elina do it to her own hair but never hers. Elina had made her standby her long mirror exposed before going and finding a gown suited from the ones she had just picked up today. Illia had laughed at her friends’ antics before turning back to the mirror. She looked at herself before moving downwards. “Elina? Have my ribs always been this exposed?” No answer came. She had traced each individual rib under her breast, and her collar bones had now shown more prominently than before. Elina had come back with arms filled with a pile of dark blue and gold fabric. “It’s the perfect gown.”. The gown was of golden fabric underneath dark blue, a long train skirt and sleeves that draped from her elbows to mid skirt. Gold needle work lined the trim of the gown. Elina insisted on a golden belt for her waist and a golden pendant for a necklace.

A knock came from the door of her chambers to which both girls had whipped their heads too. Elina quickly rushed to see who had been outside and in hush whispers had spoken to the stranger outside. The girl beckoned Illia to join her at the door. She opened the door wider to find not one but two boys standing before the doorway. Lucerys Velaryon and Jacaerys Velaryon were standing outside her chamber doors. Lucerys was dressed in a lighter blue doublet, similar to the color of her dress earlier in the day, with white tunic sleeves. Silver detail covered the doublet. Jacaerys had on a black doublet, it was more fitted than Lucerys was. The shoulders had been more set to give him a wider frame and black detailing lined the collar and chest. Dark black fabric hung from one should and across his back in a cape like motion. It complemented him more than the black and red doublet he had on during his arrive. Jacaerys hair had been put more together than after his journey on dragon back here. It also hung in defined curls, hardly longer than the nape of his neck and past his ears. He did not stink of dragon either, he smelled of salt and smoke in a way. He looked even more handsome up closely than at a distance from her window.

“My Lady, the princes have come here to escort you to dinner.”, Elina had given her a look before gently guiding her out the door. Jacaerys had been the first to offer his arm to her with a slight bow of his head, “My Lady, would you be so forgiving in allowing my brother and I to escort you to dinner this evening?”. Staring at him with wide eyes she had only given a nod before taking Jaceaery’s arm in hers. Lucerys was quick to take her other arm, putting her in the middle of the two brothers. “Well then, we shall be off My Lady.”

Daemon, Rhaenyra, and Rhaena were the only other ones in attendance for supper that evening. Jacaerys had led her to her seat and pulled her chair out before pushing it in and making his way back around to the other side of the table to sit across from her. Rhaenyra was sat to her left and Rhaena was sat to her right, while Daemon and Lucerys sat across from them. Cups of wine were poured for the parents and two older children while water was given to the younger two. Maids and Servants filled the families’ plates with meats and vegetables. The family had started to quietly eat their portions of the meal while Averillia sat with her hands in her lap. She had touched nothing in fear of angering her sister or her uncle.

“Illia? Are you not going to eat?” The girl’s attention went to Jace who had been putting his wine glass back down, staring intensely directly at her. He had licked his lips getting off the dark red wine residue that had been left behind. Rhaenyra had looked to the girl and she had looked guilty of being caught of something. “Illia? Sweet girl, are you alright?”, the older women grabbed the girls hand to get her attention. Her head whipped quickly to her and ripped her hand away, starting her in the process. “I- I am sorry!”, the younger princess was quick to say aloud. “Illia, you have done no wrong to warrant an apology. I was just making sure you are feeling well, you have not touched anything on your plate.” The older women ran her hand over her younger sister’s hair in attempt to comfort her. “Oh, sorry ‘Nyra. I was just simply lost in a thought.” The girl had quickly picked up her fork and started to pick at some of the vegetables on her plate. The women had not quiet believed the girl, especially when a young servant boy had walked up from behind Daemon and whispered a few words into his ear while he filled the older prince’s glass of wine. Daemon’s lips had tightened into a fine line before he drank more of his wine. A conversation was indeed meant to happen later about what had been shared.

“Father? When will Baela and Grandmother be joining us?” Rhaena was quick to change the topic of conversation, “On the marrow before court is to be held.”. “Oh Averillia! You must show me your needlework, I was told you have quiet the talent for it.” The white blonde had turned herself towards the golden blonde during her talk, “Please Rhaena call me, Illia. We’re family.” The girl drank from her glass of wine while the younger girl let out a giggle and falling back against her chair. Illia had forgotten the girl next to her was only two and ten. Such behavior was to happen, even if Illia was only a year older than her.

The girl had gone back to her plate of food only to look up and see Jace staring right at her. He looked away after a few pauses. That is how supper had continued, a few conversations were held with one another and stories were shared, and Jace and Illia had been sneaking glances back and forth across the table.

Once supper had ended and the two younger had been ushered to their chambers, Jace had offered to escort her to her chambers himself. Illia had said her goodnights to Rhaenyra and Daemon before being pulled out the door by Jace. He had walked a few paces before stopping the pair, “How would you like to show me the gardens?” She had turned to him at the request, her lilac eyes wide and her mouth parted open. “What?”, “Oh please Illia! It will be fun, just like old times sake. Come on let’s go!”. She did not even have time to refuse the prince before he pulled her through halls to the gardens outside.

The night sky was quite clear tonight, Illia could see almost every star in the sky and the moon all clearly. The gardens were tall bushes adorned with flowers and vines in an elaborate maze placement. “Come on Illia!” Jace had let go of her arm and taken to running ahead of her into the gardens entrance. “Jace wait!” the girl cried, she watched his cape disappear behind a wall before picking up the bottom of her skirts and running in behind him. She heard his laughs and encouragements for her to keep following him. She had truly lost the boy, she must have taken at least two wrong turns before coming upon a deadened wall. She had thrown down her skirts and let out a frustrated cry.

“Jacaerys Velaryon, this isn’t funny!” She cried to the sky before turning around. In a moment Jace had ran towards her and grabbed her under the waist, lifting her into the air while going around in circles. The golden haired princess let out and terrified shriek and cursed the boys names. She had thrown her hands against the prince’s head and back in fits of rage. He had just laughed at her as he placed her back down on the ground, before he could settle his footing the girl had given him a rough shove causing the prince to fall upon his rear onto his back. He laughed even more at the actions the girl had taken to him. “Oh that’s it Averillia Targaryen. You better run.”

The girl didn’t hesitate to start running. She gripped the front end of her skirts turning corner after corner not remember the way she came. She heard the prince’s heavy footsteps behind her getting closer. She made the fatal mistake to look behind her, she had unknowingly slowed down enough for the prince to grab her dress skirt and pull her to him. He wrapped him arms around her and had thrown her over his shoulder. Defenseless against the older boy she just wiggled her body to try and make her escape. He walked her through the maze to the opening in the middle of the garden. He placed her onto the dirt and untangled himself from her, in the struggle she had kicked his one supporting leg and caused him to fall right onto the blonde. Pained grunts were shared between the two before Jace supported himself again, face to face with the blonde under him.

“How do I look from down there?” he asked her. The blondes face had been flushed a bright red from underneath him, she just stared with her mouth agape staring at him. Her chest started to feel very hot in the moment, unsure from the embarrassment or attraction. The boy had let out a loud laugh and rolled himself onto his side. Illia sat up after Jace rolled off of her and had gone to fix her skirts. Once Jace had his laughs did he sit up and notice the girls pout. “Oh Illia, I’m sorry. I was just trying to brighten your mood from dinner. Something was obviously troubling you. Please don’t be mad at me.”

The blonde had turned to him and saw him looking up at her through his curled bangs a slight pout on his lips. She took a sharp intake of breath at the sight of him. She looked away faster than she had originally looked. Her ears must be red at this point from him. Jace did not like the answer she gave him and instead got up behind her and hugged her. She let out a small quiet squeak from the embrace. “Illia. Please forgive me.” The boy had whispered in her ear. She felt his hot breath on her neck and his arms tighten around her waist. “Jace, you must not do this. Someone will see.”

The boy removed himself to be sitting next to her and facing her during it. “Illia, we are doing nothing wrong.” He grabbed her face in his which was equally as warm as his breath on her skin. She closed her eyes and held his hand making him drop it from her face and instead lay in her lap. “I have missed you ever so dearly, Illia.”

“I have also missed you quiet dearly too, Jace.”

“Daemon what had the servant boy tell you?” Rhaenyra had been changed into her night dress undoing her hair when she asked the question. Daemon turned to her to see her looking at him through the mirror. “Exactly what the green dressed woman had put Averillia though during theses past four years.”. “What would you mean by that?” Rhaenyra had turned her entire body around on the stool to look at her husband as he started to tell her about the temperament Alicent had with the girl after Driftmark.

“I- I must go speak with my father.”

The blonde women rushed out of the from their shared quarters and the door closed quickly behind her.

The bright light of morning followed soon. Elina had wasted no time in getting into her ladies room as soon as the dawn broke. She had ripped open shades letting the bright morning light shine directly onto the princess. Illia had let out a loud groan at the unannounced sudden light that blinded her. “It’s time to get up my lady! Court in to be held today and you must attend!” In turn she had pulled the princess from her warmer sheets to get her into the bath. She had made Illia sit through a torturous twenty and two minutes of defining her curls and leaving a braided hairband crown onto of her head to pull her hair away from her face. “I should be receiving a hefty price for putting up with your antics my Lady. – the girl had turned towards the box of jewels and headwear before continuing - You sit worse than a small child does.” The princess in offence had taken the hair comb and thrown it at the lady hitting her straight in the chest. An eyebrow raised in return to the girls pathetic attempt. “You’re now acting like a child. A girl of ten and three should not be throwing fits over having their hair done.” “You pull hard!” Illia had replied but Elina had already turned her back towards the wardrobe. “You are just tender headed, my lady!”

The bigger fight was the dress Elina had made for Illia to wear. “That is to extravagant Elina! What makes you think I will wear that?”  The gown was of a fuller skirt of light grey silk under a dark greyish blue overdress of satin. A corset had also needed to be worn for such a cut in the neckline. The sleeves just feel into what looked like waves from her elbows. Silver needlework decorated the bodice and sleeve cuffs. Small silver chains decorated the neckline in pairing. The gown looked like a torturous contraption for Illia. “You are to be presented in front of the entirety of the court and more importantly it is blue. No green, a silent support for prince Lucerys Velaryon today.” The princess still was not sold on the idea, no matter how much she knew it would make her mother lose her mind. “Also if you do care to know, A maid friend of mine told me that the elder prince is to be wearing shades of greys and reds and he looks quiet charming in his outfit.” Elina knew just the right words to make the princess agree to her minor demands. “You are a cruel woman, Elina Dayne.”

“The princess looks more like she would belong to the houses of Velaryon or Arryn in her color choice in gowns for heaven’s sake! She fits better to be a princess of King Viserys and Queen Aemma then the lady Alicent Hightower.”

“Is that the Dayne girl with her? Why would his Grace the King allow such a girl into our lands?” “I heard she had been casted out for killing her own baby brother in his sleep! How would they allow her to be in Keep with the Princess Helaena’s children here?”

“I am surprised they kept the simple princess even near the family! Did you not hear about what she had done to prince Aemond with his grotesque scar?”

“My word, my Lady. I thought I had seen more vipers in Dorne, but I fear I’ve been mistaken.” The princess let out a snort at her companion’s comment. A few heads of the court turned to her before looking back away. “You are quiet right, my friend. About more than on thing.”

Elina followed her friend’s eyes to see them land upon the royal family across the room, specifically at the eldest prince in the pack of dragons. “Oh, my Lady. He could have been dressed in nothing covered in sheep’s dung and you still would have found him charming.” Illia had turned around to face her. Eyes wide and her cheeks and ears a bright pink tint. “You mustn’t speak like that in public Elina! Someone may hear you!” The Dayne girl laughed at how easily she had made her friend flustered by a simple image.

The princess huffed at her friend and turned back around towards the front. Her eyes slowly went across the way to Jacaerys. He did indeed look charming in his attire. The darker grey doublet was once again fitted to his form, it was trimmed with red fabric and grey needle work was decorating the red. He wore a belt on his waist and a sword hung from the belt. He hadn’t had one on the day before and in her eyes it made him look more grown. His hands rested on the hilt of the swords handle, veins protruded from the tops of his hand being very visible in the light shinning through. The same hand she had held the night before in the garden. Illia had wished later on after she had retired to her chambers that she hadn’t moved his hand. That they still held her cheeks for the entirety and did not let her go. Oh how she wished he had held her longer in the embrace they had shared before she had forced him to break it. Averillia felt a tightening and intense heat in her breasts, her breathing labored as she felt the tightening feeling crawl up from her breasts to her neck. Choking her in a way. Oh how the Gods would punish her for thinking of such sinful thoughts.

“Though it is a great hope of this court that lord Corlys Velaryon survives his wounds, we gather here with he grim task of dealing with the succession of Driftmark. As Hand, I speak with the King’s voice on this and all other matters. The crown will now hear the petitions. Ser Vaemond of House Velaryon, please start us off.”

“The seas foulest serpent gets to place his poison.” The lady Dayne had whispered just loud enough for the Targaryen princess to hear. She delivered a small smack with her hand to the girl next to her causing the two to break into small audible giggles. The eldest black dragon prince had looked over towards the two girls draped in blues when he heard the giggles. They had both been looking at the sea snakes’ brother who was walking up to the front of the court. He furrowed his brows in confusion on what could be so funny in this moment, the lady of house Dayne had seen the princes confused look and had taken her two fingers and curled them over. She made a sharp motion with the two fingers as if she were piercing something. He was even more confused at the girls action, he had clearly missed the joke shared.

“The history of our noble houses extends beyond the Seven Kingdoms to the days of Old Valyria. For as long as House Targaryen has ruled the skies, House Velaryon has ruled the seas. When the Doom fell on Valyria, our houses became the last of their kind. Our forebearers came to this new land, knowing that were they to fail, it would mean the end to their bloodlines and their name. I have spent my entire life on Driftmark defending my brother’s seat. I am Lord Corlys’s closest kin, his own blood. The true, unimpeachable blood of House Velaryon runs through my veins.”

The princess has certainly had enough of Lord Vaemond’s words. The show he was putting on had almost made the princess turn and leave the court room. She looked to the dragon brothers and saw Lucerys scared face and his elder brothers face had also seem to have had enough of Vaemond’s words.

“As it does my sons, the offspring of the late Laenor Velaryon. Or have you forgotten that in your own ambitions?” Princess Rhaenyra had interrupted the man before he could continue.

“Maybe if the sea serpent did care so much about his own houses blood, he would not be so bold in spreading his venomous accusations against its rightful heir.” The girl next to Averillia had commented, but clearly she had spoken to loudly as the mans eyes had turned around right towards her as well as both families in black and green. “Lady Dayne, do you care to repeat yourself and share loudly of your witty comments?” Vaemond had asked the lady, a clear look of evil in his eyes.

“Of course, Ser Vaemond.” She stepped out from around Averillia closer to the middle of the group. “I had said, ‘If the venomous Sea Serpent did care for his own houses blood, he would not be so emboldened in to spreading such poisonous accusations against its rightful heir’. Must I make clear what fatal accusations you speak of? His Grace, King Viserys would not take kindly to such accusations against his own grandson, his own heirs second born son. Would your brother Lord Corlys Velaryon take such gratitude in your rebuttal against his own heir that he’s upheld sense the boy was born from his own mothers womb?”

“What do you know of accusations, Lady Dayne? Considering you come from Dornish land where men lie with men and women lie with women. Men and women produce bastards and they get to inherit still. Your people know nothing of our customs – the man had gotten closer to the young lady, chest to chest talking down to her - and for such an opinion of a dornish girl, what do you know of Velaryon blood, Lady Dayne? I could cut my veins and show it to you and you still wouldn’t recognize it.”

“I shall gladly provide you the blade, Ser Vaemond. Maybe in that case you can remove your tongue with the same blade for the king and I’ll present it to him on a sparkling silver platter!” The eldest princess had pushed herself between the two tempered people as Prince Jacaerys had pulled the lady Dayne and the princess Averillia behind him with the help of Prince Daemon.

“Princess Rhaenyra, you will make your own petition for your son but have the courtesy of allowing Ser Vaemond’s to be heard. I also apologize ser Vaemond for Princess Averillia’s lady in waiting and her out of turn words. She will be sure to keep her lady in check.” The Queen Alicent had walked over to guide Vaemond away from the princess Rhaenyra and continue on the conversation.

“Of course. My Queen and my Lord Hand, I humbly put myself before you as my brother’s successor, the Lord of Driftmark and Lord of the Tides.”

“Thank you, Ser Vaemond. Princess Rhaenyra, you may now speak for your son, Lucerys Velaryon.”

Rhaenyra walked up to the center of the room after Vaemond had walked away. She looked in the embodiment of a dragon. Draped in a black dress and dragon fire like needlework and beads designed the bodice. “If I am to grace this farce with some answer, I will start by reminding the court that nearly 20 years ago, in this very-”

“King Viserys of House Targaryen, the First of His Name, King of the Andals, and the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm.”

The crowd had turned to see the king enter in. He walked with a club foot like limp. He would try to stand tall but would go back down with every limp. Coughs racked him into stopping and taking a hard lean onto his cane as he walked. “Father…”

The princess draped in blues was fast to go to her fathers aide with her lady following quickly behind her. Both girls standing on each side of him to help him stead himself. “I will sit the throne today.” The weakened king had called out to his Lord Hand. The king looked to his youngest child, “I have always delighted in when you wear blues, my dear girl. You look much like my late Aemma.”. The princesses eyes had gone wide and gathered lightly with tears at his words. The girl has not seen her father in almost two years because his condition was worsening. He has mistaken her mother for his late wife Aemma Arryn a couple times, but he never compared her to the late queen before that moment. He smiled to his daughter before turning to his daughter’s lady in waiting, “Lady Dayne, please allow me to walk myself. I will be fine.” Averillia and Elina shared a look of uncertainty before letting the old king walk himself.

He continued his path up to the throne before having yet another coughing fit. He hunched over himself having the Targaryen crown fall from his brow to clatter on the floor. The girls in blue were quick to aide the old king but his younger brother had beat them to his aide. Daemon had signaled the girls to back away in which they were lead by Rhaenyra and Jacaerys back towards the pact of black dragons.

Daemon helped his brother to the seat of the throne and placed the golden crown on his brow.

“I must… admit… my confusion. I do not understand why petitions are being heard over a settled succession. The only one present… who might offer keener insight into Lord Corlys’s wishes is the Princess Rhaenys.” Behind the pact of dragons came out the Princess Rhaenys, followed behind her was the young Baela Targaryen. The girl had grown into a beautiful girl since Driftmark, she had grown taller and filled into the brighter blue dress she wore.

“Indeed, Your Grace. – she had taken a pause before continuing - It was ever my husband’s will that Driftmark pass through Ser Laenor to his true born son… Lucerys Velaryon. His mind never changed. Nor did my support of him. As a matter of fact, the Princess Rhaenyra has just informed me of her desire to marry her son Lucerys Velaryon to Lord Corlys’s granddaughter, Rhaena Targaryen. A proposal to which I heartily agree.” Both Rhaena and Lukes heads had turned to the other one after that statement. Luke was quick to turn away after Jace had given the boy an encouraging shoulder bump, face flushed a bright red color. Illia had only turned to the younger girl and gave her hand a squeeze and a gentle smile.

“Then the matter is settled. I hereby reaffirm Prince Lucerys of House Velaryon as heir to Driftmark, the Driftwood throne, and the next Lord of the Tides.” The king broke into another coughing fit before a voice spoke up.

“You break law… and centuries of tradition to install your daughter as heir. Yet you dare tell me… who deserves to inherit the name Velaryon. No. I will not allow it.”

“”Allow it”? Do not forget yourself.”

The man had walked closer to the pact of dragons making the children take a few steps back, “That is no true Velaryon, and certainly no nephew of mine!” Elina Dayne had been the one to step up to the hot tempered man before he had gotten closer to the younger prince. Rhaenyra had quickly put herself before the girl, “Go to your chambers. You have said enough.”

“Do not lose your tongue Ser. You are only no more than a second son of Driftmark.” The Dornish lady had a pause before the hand of the Sea Serpent had struck her across the face. “Elina!”

“You may run your house as you see fit! But you will not decide the future of mine! My house survived the Doom and a thousand tribulations besides. And gods be damned, I will not see it ended on the account of this!”

“Say it”

“Her children – he had paused and taken in a deep breath – are bastards! And she is a whore!”

Gasps had been heard from the court before the king demanded the mans tongue.

In an instant Daemon had moved to the man and swung his sword, Jace was fast to push Illia behind him with his younger siblings. Blood had flown through the air from the blade of dark sister falling onto the children. Jace and Illia being covered the most after the body fell and the blood had sprayed from the mans exposed inner skull. Jace’s boots had fully been soaked and the entirety of Illia’s skirts had been covered. The blood went from the fallen body through the stones cracks right to the bloody blondes shoes.

“You foolish girl! You’ve ruin yourself for your future!”

Averillia’s chest started to tighten and taking in rapid breaths. Her hands had started to tremble and her eyes darted from the body to the trail of blood that led right to her. This was how the Gods punished her for such impure thoughts. Her sins are paid in blood.

“Illia!” Her eyes snapped to the prince who had been trying to get her attention. Blood had gotten onto his face across his cheekbone, his eyes looked at her with complete concern at her labored breaths and trembling hands.

“Sins are paid for in blood. You mustn’t touch me!” The princess pushed herself from the prince. She backed faster to turn to the door and quickened her pace.

“Averillia?”

“My Lady!”

“How good is it to see you all tonight, together.”

The table had been set for all 13 family members. A family divided by black and green cloaks and gowns. Both of the head women sat on either side of the king across from their children. She had been placed on the end next to Aemond. Why the seating had to be so she did not understand. She was across from Rhaena and Luke so she had a familiar friend at least. Baela was next to her and Jace was sitting between her and Aegon.

Jace had changed from his bloody court wear into a finer doublet, it was another black one, it had from even halfway down the table fit him nicely. The hook clasps of the doublet were of silver and the draped fabric along the back had been of a dark purple, almost black. Darker than her own purple dress but matched the beads and needle work along the collar of the dress and also the bands at the bottom of the shoulder puffs into long tight sleeves.  The gowns neckline was square cut but had dipped lower than some of her other gowns. When the gown was tightened to the proper tightness it made her breasts more prominent. Elina had insisted on the gown for dinner that night. Illia was starting to suspect the minor connections in their outfits had been more intentional than her friend was letting on.

He was quiet a beautiful man, in the candlelight his face held more definition. His eyes looked much more black than purple in the dimly lit room. She had started to wonder if they would still look like this blackened shade if he was in the moonlight that casted through her chamber windows right onto her bed. Would the curls of his hair cast such shadows on his eyes or would he had his hair pushed back for her to get a clearer look at his face as he laid under her in the moonlight? Would he have held her in a warm embrace without the feeling of clothing layers blocking them. Before Illia had been able to indulge deeper into her sinful dreams her father had interrupted with his speech.

“My grandson, Luke will be the future lord of the tides with his cousin Rhaena by his side. Further strengthening the bond between our families. A toast to the young couples betrothal!”

“Hear, hear”

“I also have another celebration to announce.” The eyes of the table had once again turned to the old king. “I have decided… to betroth my grandson, Jacaerys Velaryon to my last daughter, Averillia Targaryen. A strong future king needs the right queen by his side and I am certain that Averillia will stand by faithfully.”

Averillia had taken in a quick breath at her fathers announcement. She looked to Jace who had already been looking at her, he formed a smile before turning away and drinking from his glass.

“Husband, you cannot be truthful. You never consulted me on a choice of husband for our daughter.” Alicent had been quick to rebuttal the kings news. “The daughter you have not spoken a word to in about four years? I wasn’t going to wait around for our daughter to become a spinster because you can’t seem to forgive her for a accident that happened when they were children. I wish to be present watching all my daughters be wed and happy with their new families before I am cold and dead in my grave.” The elder women had been taken aback by her husbands outburst as had the rest of the table. Nobody spoke of the woman’s grudge for her own daughter.

The king let out a loud sigh before continuing, “Let us no longer hold ill feelings in our hearts. The crown cannot stand strong if the House of the Dragon remains divided. But set aside your grievances. If not for the sake of the crown… then for the sake of this old man who loves you all so dearly.”

Everyone at the table had gone silent with awkward glances around the table to one another before Rhaenyra had moved to stand up, “I wish to raise my cup to Her Grace, the Queen. I love my father. But I must admit that no one has stood… more loyally by his side than his good wife. She has tended to him with… unfailing devotion, love, and honor. And for that, she has my gratitude… and my apology.” She seated herself back down before Illia’s own mother stood, “Your graciousness moves me deeply, Princess. We are both mothers… and we love our children. We have more in common than we sometimes allow. I raise my cup to you… and to your house. You will make a fine queen.”

The table seemed to be at peace until Jace had slammed the table and jumping from his seat, a certain glare at Aegon. He quickly grabbed his glass and held it up for a toast. “To Prince Aegon and Prince Aemond, we have not seen each other for a few years but I do remember the fond memories in our shared youths, and as men – he paused for a moment before continuing – I hope we can see eye to eye and place any harmful intentions behind us to possibly be friends and allies for our families good health, dear uncles.” A smirk had played on his face before sitting himself down.

Illia had let out a quiet giggle at his joke. Unaware of Aemond’s small glance at her. Attention had been changed to Helaena who had stood herself up. “I would like to toast to Averillia and Rhaena. They’ll be married soon. It isn’t so bad. Mostly he just ignores you… except sometimes when he’s drunk.”

Illia had realized what her words meant and quickly drank her glass of wine. Music started to play in the background as her heartbeat was in her ears. Would her father have her marry at three and ten as they had done with Helaena? Will she have to carry heirs at such an early age? Will she perish just as Lady Laena did in childbirth?

A hand poking at her wrist had changed her attention to the man next to her, Jace was standing there holding out his hand to her. She took his hand as he quickly guided her to the open area of the floor. “Are you feeling well?” He asked her as they walked. She gave a quick nod with her head before the dance started. They spun around and taken little hops together to the song that played. He also in the moment taken to catching her waist and spinning her around in a few fast circles in which the girl had burst into giggles.

A bang had paused any movement in the room. The young couple had stopped dancing to see Aemond standing having all the attention drawn to him. “Final tribute.”

“Aemond.”

“To my sister and nephew, Averillia and Jacaerys. They are to be married soon, let us drain our cups to my sisters health and usefulness in delivering him healthy and… strong boys.” “I dare you to say that again.” Jace had straightened himself out putting Illia behind him. “Why? ‘Twas only a compliment. Do you not think my foolish sister won’t be able to understand even the act of making a child correctly?”

That was the final straw for Jacaerys when he walked up and landed a blow right to Aemond’s jaw. He hadn’t moved but he pushed Jace backwards a few steps. Aemond was ready to throw his punch into Jace’s jaw but Illia had gone to try and catch her betrothal and instead caught Aemond’s fist to her forehead. The young couple had been knocked to the stone floor. Baela had been quick to jump from her seat and come to Illia’s aide as Jace jumped right back onto his feet, bring the unbalanced Aemond to the ground and was quick to get a couple hits back. Daemon and a guard had grabbed the dragon prince and pulled him off the one eyed prince. The boy wiggled free from the men’s hold and went straight to his betrothal.

“Cease this fighting at once!” The king had yelled aloud to the room. “To think that you’ve all grown you yet still act like children! It shall be final. Jacaerys Velaryon and Averillia Targaryen shall be married a moon after her six and tenth nameday. No later. Aemond Targaryen shall be sent to reside on Storms End until the wedding. I will not allow theses acts of violence to continue occurring in my own home.” King Viserys of house Targaryen had fallen back against his chair in exhaustion.

Back in her chambers the princess was being closely looked at by her lady in front of her vanity. “Elina I am fine! Please stop fretting over me.” “Illia you had been hit to the floor by your own brother, back home my brother would have had his hand cut off for striking his own sister.” Illia had rolled her eyes at her friend, “Well the boy already is missing his eye. You can’t take a limb from the man too. Now please just let me go to bed, it’s late.” The girl had let out a huff before agreeing to the girls pleas.

Illia watched her walk out the door before she started to undo her own hair from the elaborate style Elina had put it in. The girl went to take out the blasted dangling earrings that caused her great discomfort before a knocking sound was heard. She turned to the door, not expecting a visitor for how late in the night it was. She opened the door to find no one in the corridor. She closed the door unsure why a knock had been heard. Not a step later, another knock was heard. She opened the door quicker and found not a single soul again. She walked to her wardrobe and opened the double doors to find only gowns and cloaks hanging. Averillia let out a huff in annoyance. For the night she has had, she was especially not in the mood for jesters.

“Did you know it’s rude to not answer your betrothal when he knocks upon your wall?”

The princess had turned around quickly to find Prince Jacaerys in her chambers leaning against her bed post still in his attire from dinner.

“What. The. Fuck.”

“I did not know that my betrothal used such vulgar language.” He had a smirk upon his face at her utterly shocked face.

“How the fuck did you get in here?”

“The wall?”

He moved and pointed to the corner of the room where a chair had now been moved. A corner with two stone walls.

“The wall? I may have been hit in the head but I am not a dimwitted fool, Jacaerys Velaryon.”

The boy had rolled his eyes at her attitude and walked closer to the girl. He reached into her wardrobe and pulled out a black cloak. “Put this on.”

“Why?”

“Must you ask so many questions?”

The girl had listened to him and thrown the cloak on, it covered her entire body with arm hole slits in the front. She had finished tying the cord around the neckline to find him leaning against the stone wall in the corner.

“Do you trust me?”

“What?”

In an instance he had opened the wall as if it was a door and had gone through. Illia was fast to approach him and walk through. She looked around before the door closed behind her.

“Follow me.”

The pathways lead the couple all the way outside the castle to a open plain of grass. “How did you know about those tunnels?” “I had found them before we left for Dragonstone.” A sudden sound of two dragons landing had made the girl turn to see both Vermax and Silverwing waiting for the couple. “Would you care to go on a dragon fly with me to the little islands?”

“Race you!”

The princess had shoved the prince back before taking off into a sprint to her own dragon.

“No fair!”

The dragons raced through the cloudy night sky across the open body of water towards the collection of small islands. They were to small of land for anyone to live but the dragons seemed to enjoy resting on the islands during their flights. Averillia and Silverwing had beaten the boys to the island in record time. Vermax let out a little huff of fire when he landed, obviously the dragon had known he’d been beaten and wasn’t happy about the lost. “You cheated!”

“I did not! You’re just a sore loser!” Illia had screamed back to the prince at his accusation towards her. The prince was fast to grab the girl and tickling her restlessly. “Jace no! Please don’t! I am sorry! Please no!” the boy had gotten on top of the girl and tickled her sides relentlessly while she begged him to stop. “You have to admit you cheated and then I shall cease the tickling.” “Anything else! Please!”

“Ok fine, You have to kiss me than!”

“What?!”

“Those are your only options, Princess. Either admit your wrongs or kiss me, that’s the only way you are getting yourself out of here.”

The girls giggles sounded louder as he kept tickling her. “Okay! Okay I surrender!” Jace had stopped his hands for one moment to look at her. The blonde princess had wiggled herself to sit upon her bum and grabbed his face and placed a kiss on his cheek. It had been a quick peck upon his cheek, but still a kiss none the less. He had frozen up still at the girls kiss and stared her in the eyes. The moon which started to shine through the clouds shined right upon her. Jace had thought she looked of a goddess in the moonlight, her hair was a beautiful golden color as if a halo around her and her eyes had almost shined pale purple in the light. He had taken her all in and noticed how milky pale her skin was, it looked to be a soft feeling. Her neck looked as if every breath she took was going to break her, her shoulders went up with every intake of breath she took and down with every outtake. She had been leaning back on her hands which exposed her chest in fuller view, He had seen her lower cut dress at dinner but he did not seem to mind, especially not now. Her breasts looked as if they were to spill out from her gown with how much father the gown had been pulled down. He knew it was not polite to stare, especially with how many times his mother had enforced that rule but gods how could he not. She looked of utter radiance and she was to be his, and his alone.

Illia wondered if the prince above her was feeling well. He had been staring at her for a few good minutes without staying a word. “Jace?” The boy had rested his palm against her waist before following the seam of her bodice up to her bust, her neck, and ending on her jaw. “Jace? Are you feeling well?” He had taken his other hand and held the back of her head. “Jace? What are you doing?” her hand held his wrist that was on her jaw. He was freaking her out with how hard he was staring at her. “Do you trust me?” His eyes jumped between her eyes and lips as she gave a slow nod. He didn’t hesitate to bring her lips to his. It was an awkward feeling for the girl, having never kissed or been kissed by anyone before. Slowly she relaxed and had started to enjoy the feeling.

Jace was far to excited to function properly. Her skin was indeed soft, most likely the softest thing the prince had ever felt. Her lips had a comforting warmth to them that he does not think he could find anywhere else. He had inevitably pulled away from her to catch his breath. The girl under him was truly the most beautiful thing ever in this world. Without any hesitation, he again pulled his hand that was tangled in the back of her hair to him in another kiss. He had laid her down in the dirt once more and continued kissing her. His hand moved from her hair down to her waist as her hands had moved to his bicep and his own hair. She had pulled him deeper into the kiss with a small moan escaping her mouth. Jace had felt his trousers tightening at just her simple sound, if he could he’d never wish for her to stop that sound. He had felt her break away from him and quickly flipped him so he was the one in the dirt and she was on top. He pulled her closer by her waist and brought his lips to her jaw, her neck, her clavicle, and end at her breasts. As soon as his lips touched her gown collar, she had thrown herself from his lap and pushing his upper body straight back into the dirt.

She had been only a foot away from him when he sat up, her chest was breathing rapidly, her hair had been a mess, her eyes wide like a doe, and her lips swollen covered in her own spit. “Illia, oh gods. Illia I am sorry, I did not mean for it to be taken so far, and it was not even my intents to bring you out here just for that. I just wanted one moment alone with you before we go back to Dragonstone on the marrow. I-“

“You’re leaving again? But you’ve only just arrived?”

In Jace’s rambling she had herd the words that made her heart sink into her stomach. Tears had welded into her eyes at the sudden news. “You’re supposed to be here for five more days? Why are you leaving me again?”

“Mother thinks its best considering Aemond’s temper.”

“Take me with you! Do not leave me here with those awful people! Do not leave me, Jace! Please do not leave me again!”

The tears had started to consistently stream down her cheeks. “Illia, please do not cry. I can not stand to keep watching you cry like this. I do not want to leave you so soon either. I had begged my mother to take you but she knew it wasn’t possible. Your mother wouldn’t have allowed it.” He crawled over to the girl to try and console her. She had attached herself to him, hoping holding him longer will make him stay.

They sat in that spot for hours that night trying to find comfort in the departure between the two but there was none.

Jacaerys Velaryon, the dragon prince and Averillia Targaryen, the simple princess were once again pulled apart from one another once dawn had broken though over the sea line.

endnote: Thank you everyone for reading! The next part shall take me some time to write but if you’re still interested in reading the story please like or reblog to bring you back to them! (Did you guys also see the Epic reference I put in??? I believe it’s the most fitting lyric in the entire musical) also I had changed Jace’s appearance in this time frame, I love my man but the curls eat more then his season one wig. The finale part to this trilogy shall be released sometime at the end of next week or two!