#she makes sure to visit him at his castle every once in a while

[dreammfyre]

dragon rider ⋆ jacaerys velaryon

SUMMARY. You are the only daughter between Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen and Sir Harwin Strong. The war for the throne had begun and they had to be alert to any attack from King's Landing and the greens, which is why the queen ordered to send Joffrey, Aegon and Viserys to the Arryn Valley under the responsibility of Rhaena Targaryen. You and your older brother, the prince Jacaerys Velaryon are saddened, finding comfort in each other.

WARNINGS. +18 Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!oc. Targaryen incest (brother and sister) virgin!reader. +4000 words.

Jacaerys Velaryon had locked himself in his chambers after saying goodbye to his younger brothers, Joffrey, little Aegon and Viserys had gone to the Valley of Arryn under the tutelage of lady Rhaena Targaryen to keep them safe from the dangers of war by order of the queen Rhaenyra. Sadness consumed him and after embracing them for the last time before they go, he disappeared into the corridors of the castle, he needed to be alone for a while, nor did he seek to hide in the most hidden corner of the castle so he lay on his bed staring at the ceiling for a long time. Not even a night had passed and he missed them so hard, but he had to convince himself that even if the decision was painful, it was the best thing they could do to ensure the safety of the children.

How much more would they have to sacrifice?

Before falling back into another spiral of guilt and remorse, the door rang twice. He remained silent in the hope that whoever was on the other side would be convinced of his absence, but persisted.

"I will not attend to anyone!" he shouted angrily, an explicit order that anyone would have understood and much more importantly, obeyed. Once again the noise of the door got him riled up, annoyed he quickly got up almost running to the door, opened it ready to yell at anyone who had dared to disobey, but to his surprise he found the figure of his sister on the other side.

"Jace, you're here." You sounded relieved.

The prince leaned against the door frame watching you impatiently to enjoy the quiet solitude again.

"Yes, are you okay?" he asked unwilling to make conversation, but he wasn't going to take it out on you, you were his sister and had an obligation to take care of you.

You fiddled with your hands anxiously, not wanting to disturb your brother, nervous about the question you were about to ask. "May... I come in?"

Your brother frowned in confusion and concern then looked both sides of the hallway making sure no one was watching to avoid malicious rumors. It was frowned upon for a princess to sneak into her betrothed brother's chambers.

"Sure, come in."

You did the same as he did -tried to avoid being seen by foreign eyes, avoiding any kind of rumor- and entered quickly before being discovered.

"Are you busy?"

"No." He replied closing the door. Seeing you in his chambers was strange, it had been a long time since you had knocked on his door, couldn't even remember the last time. "Is something wrong, sister?"

It was hard for you to speak because you were so sad about the unexpected departure of your brothers and Jacaerys was the only person on the island who could understand that feeling. You were always the most sensitive of all Rhaenyra's children, tried to understand what was best, but you were going to miss reading stories to your broyher Joffrey, playing with little Aegon and Viserys who were beginning to say their first words, you visited them every day and said good night. Now, they were gone, the worst part was the feeling that tightened your chest, a horrible feeling that you would never see them again.

"I miss them... so much." You whispered looking down at your hands, twirling the gold ring on your finger. You took a deep breath to keep from shedding more tears. "I don't want to tell our mother, she has enough to carry."

Jacaerys felt a lump in his throat burn when he noticed you sad, you always had a kind smile that highlighted your natural beauty, but now and before him you looked dull, your appearance was enough reflection of your low mood, your eyes of a slight red color gave away that were crying not long ago. Jace took your hands between his, caressing your knuckles trying to comfort you with the physical contact, you closed your eyes letting a couple of tears escape that fell like waterfalls down your soft pink cheeks. Your brother hugged you immediately, his closeness did you good, Jacaerys always made you feel safe in your worst moments and this was no exception.

"It's for the best, sister. They have to be safe and unfortunately that far away from us." Though his words were more to himself than to you. "This will be over soon…I promise." He broke away only to look into your eyes and wipe your face himself with the gentleness you deserved to be treated with. Your gaze shone in admiration of Jacaerys' beauty, he looked so concerned for you that he had forgotten his own pain to heal yours. "Don't cry more, please." He begged.

Jace's hand on your cheek was gentle but firm.

"Did you realize that now it's just us left?" you whispered as a heart-breaking reality check. Your brother's face turned to absolute sadness, he had no encouraging words that even he couldn't believe. Jacaerys rested his forehead with yours closing his eyes feeling your scent, you were right, unfortunately you were only the only children of Queen Rhaenyra on the island.

Jacaerys' breath against your face felt so warm, he had his eyes closed in a quiet silence, it was just the two of you. Your brother sighed heavily, looked so peaceful, you had never seen him like that, almost vulnerable. Your hand went hesitantly to his face, caressing his skin with your fingers slowly, the prince didn't complain, he only felt a shiver in his body when you brushed his cheek very gently. Jace swallowed saliva with difficulty, trying to control his deepest and most forbidden impulse.

Impulsive, your other hand went to his curly hair, Jace still had his eyes closed because if he opened them he was going to give in to the temptation of your closeness. The truth is that you weren't thinking straight, for years your brother had been provoking things in you that you couldn't explain and other mens never, maybe it was the intense way he looked at you, how much he protected you or how inexplicably good you felt with him. That was one of the reasons why you decided to decline the request of your mother who had offered you to travel to the Arryn Valley to take care of your brothers and not suffer their remoteness, but you had to refuse because the real torture was going to be to leave Jacaerys in Dragonstone.

"Si-sister…" murmured the heir squeezing your wrist. "Don't do this to me."

Fuck. Your cheeks turned red realizing what was really happening. You took a step back to take distance almost falling over from your clumsy steps.

"I'm sorry, I didn't have to. I… I have to go." You apologized in agitation, unable to look your brother in the face because the shame that invaded your body after confusing you. You were a correct princess, daughter of the rightful queen, her blood, you couldn't jeopardize your reputation for an impulse you had managed to keep for years, much less an engaged prince. "Yes, I have to go."

Ashamed of your actions you walked towards the door dragging your long red dress, tearing yourself away from hell. You needed to get out of there before the situation with your own brother led you to make mistakes you might regret. You opened the door without waiting for a goodbye from him imagining that he must be paralyzed without understanding what had happened, however, Jacaerys closed the door preventing you from leaving.

"Don't go... please." His voice sounded more like a command than an invitation. You looked up meeting his dark eyes on you, you glued your back to the wooden door unable to take any more steps back. "And I don't want you to apologize."

Your heart was beating so fast you could hear it inside, Jacaerys carefully analyzing you.

"Jace, I…"

"You can do it." He interrupted needing you more than as a sister.

"It's not right." You tried to convince yourself, your eyes fixed on his parted lips waiting for you. "It's... stupid."

You were the most correct princess who had set foot on the island and that Westeros had seen grow, blameless in her actions and pure for what the knights fought for your attention. But your attention was on the heir, it was always with him.

Jacaerys knew perfectly you were never going to dare take the first step too guilty to live with regret, you were too attached to the rules to break them. So he took your waist breaking the minimal distance between you in a delicate and fragile kiss, a groping touch where his lips touched yours for the first time in a slow rhythm. The prince took your chin with his fingers holding it, he opened his eyes noticing your pink cheeks lit up and your lips moistened.

"Open your mouth." He whispered softly over your lips. You frowned in confusion, but Jace would never do anything bad to you, you trusted him to question it. "You're going to like it."

Jacaerys kissed you again, this time you listened fearing to do it wrong separating your lips a little more feeling his tongue entering your mouth invading your space, exploring and tasting you for the first time so hard that you clung to his shoulders. Jacaerys pressed you with his body against the door, you moved your tongue brushing it against his, had never experienced anything so incredible.

"Let me touch you, sister." He begged against your lips, running his hands down your dress, being the restraint he needed.

"Do it." Amidst the kisses and caresses you were spiraling into madness losing your princess modesty. Jacaerys had you cornered, he pulled your dress up just enough to slip his cold hand underneath, lifting your leg to the height of his hip, squeezing your skin if I understand your softness snatching a sigh from you. The prince's mouth left your lips and went down your neck, leaving traces of burning kisses, kissing your collarbones lost in the moment.

To both your brother and the people you were like a flower, the most delicate, the one Jacaerys always loved, you were his only sister and he had cared for you every day of his life repressing his deepest feelings. But always a dark seed was planted in his mind, he tried to make it disappear, but it clung to him growing, the desire for you.

"You're perfect." Murmured against your skin, intoxicated by your scent and your little moans. He pressed his body against yours in the perfect way for his erection to press against your center.

"Holy crap."

Those words on your lips sounded very wrong, but exciting to Jacaerys.

Just to fuck you he repeated it again, this time deeper, making your body tremble feeling it against you, he also couldn't help moaning against your skin when he pressed his hips against your legs open for him. He reached for your other leg taking you in his arms, started walking in the direction of his perfectly laid bed, you kept kissing him with euphoria, addicted to the sensation between your legs that he unleashed by touching you. Your thighs squeezed his body imprisoning him, one of your shoes had fallen somewhere on the way to the bed. Your brother sat with you on his lap, put one knee on each side of him, lying on his tense body.

"I can't take you, sister." He said caressing your waist, his labored breathing making it difficult to speak so neatly. "I can't do that to you."

You kissed his neck hungry for pleasure, ignoring his words full of reason. "I want you, Jace, you have to do it, not another."

Jacaerys closed his eyes clenching his fists over your dress as the prince heard you so needy, he was trying to push you away being useless, your kisses following a meaningless path.

"You are my downfall." He confessed enjoying your lips claiming his skin. He hugged you tightly around the waist, preventing you from pulling away too far.

"I think I like the sound of it." You responded with your lips millimeters from his, the heat of his breath on your skin sending a shiver down your spine.

And, fuck, it felt better than it sounded.

Jacaerys leaned into you and his lips finally met yours in a deep and passionate kiss. His hands on your back pulling tight against him as he deepened the contact and his tongue sought to enter your mouth again. You opened your mouth for him like the first time, he felt you lose control as you complied with his command.

"We can do it... another way." Jacaerys said breaking the kiss. He watched you for an eternal moment, your face flushed, your dark eyes with dilated pupils, your swollen mouth ajar desperate to keep quenching your thirst for him. Jace touched your face arranging a lock of crossed hair, your skin was burning, imagining his was similar. The heir was dying to make you his at that moment, had waited too long, but he couldn't disrespect his only sister like that. He felt walked into the abyss playing with your virtue and maidenhood wanting to take it knowing it wasn't right.

"What?" you asked with furrowed brows.

"Do you trust me?"

"T-tell me what you want me to do."

Did you want to kill him by hesitating like that? Jacaerys questioned, if only you had any idea of the effect you have on him, that he would give you anything to have you around.

"I want you to stay exactly here…" His hands found your hips underneath your dress, holding you tightly on bare skin, anchoring you to him like two pieces fitting together perfectly. You were comfortable in that position where you could feel a hard nub pressing against your sensitive center, Jacaerys moved your hips over his body slowly re-activating the sensation between your legs that ran up your body like a shiver. "Do it."

His imperative tone made you feel pressured to live up to expectations, wanted to make him feel the same way you were experiencing.

With your knees sinking onto the mattress you moved back and forth carefully feeling his length, never took your eyes off him at any moment too attentive to his reactions, the prince let out a deep sigh as your folds brushed against his throbbing erection for you. Jacaerys felt a surge of desire as you began to move over him gaining more confidence, the slow deliberate friction sent shivers down his spine. His hands on your waist held you steady not letting you go anywhere because that was your place, he encouraged your movements guiding you against him, his breath hitching in his throat as he watched you with burning eyes.

"It feels... good." You said with heavy breathing. You didn't understand the reason, but you couldn't complain, the rubbing between your legs against him wasn't something imagined possible.

"Gods, you have no idea." The prince murmured hoarsely and strained from the effort to contain his growing need to penetrate you if kept speaking in that dulcet tone of voice.

You were so wet that the fabric of Jacaerys' pants was immediately stained by you, you were so ready for him, but Jace was clear with his condition not to take your innocence. You leaned on his shoulders swaying faster rubbing your cunt against his member trapped in his clothing, a torturous but necessary barrier. With you on his lap the prince unraveled the simple ribbon on your back by simply pulling one end of a silk bow, taking the audacity to pull it down just enough to leave your breasts uncovered as you continued to sway your hips increasing the pace guiding by desire.

"I... I c-can't, Jace." You groaned clinging to his shoulder in desperation, your legs were starting to tire but it was the feeling taking over your body that wouldn't let you think straight, unaware of yourself. "Jace-" asked him for help sure he knew what to do.

"Like this… just… a little more." Gasped watching you so perfect on top of him, he wasn't going to be able to get you out of his mind nor did he know how many sluts he was going to need to satiate his desperate need to fuck you. He squeezed your ass leaving marks on your skin, your round breasts moving to your rhythm made him want to take them in his mouth once and for all, he looked at you one last time, the rubbing on his member only made him desperate, brought his mouth close to one of your breasts sucking just out of desire to see your reaction. You were fucking delicious.

"Jacaerys!" You called out to him, closing your eyes tightly. The warm sensation of his tongue circling your nipple made you move faster, claiming him for his foul play.

The correct prince heir could barely form a coherent thought as you spoke when you rode him like the wildest of the dragons, the sound of your broken voice sending another wave of desire through his tortured body.

"Just-a little more... Stay like this." He begged desperately for your mercy. His hands gripped your hips more firmly, guiding you against him, the friction between you was wet and delicious at the same time with a forbidden touch that only made it better. Your folds fit perfectly with his member, spanning his entire hard length, you opened your eyes for a moment finding your brother with his jaw tense and his head back as if instead of enjoying it he was suffering from his desires. For a second, you questioned where Jacaerys had learned to do these things, how long he had kept himself under the mantle of the right prince devoted to duty.

"Like this?" you asked innocently. The prince moaned at your question as the only way to communicate, he was ecstatic under your legs, grip on your hips tightened burying his fingers leaving marks. This time, the innocent tone of voice didn't fool him for a second, he could see the same spark of mischief and desire in your eyes.

You could ride him as many times as you wanted and he would find it insufficient, it was just a way of not feeling so guilty about what you were doing. He was so needy especially for you that he was about to give in to his orgasm just at the thought of pulling down his pants releasing his desire by sliding into your tight interior.

Jacaerys felt himself losing control, right now he didn't care at all if the door opened right now and he was found taking immoral pleasure in you. The feel of your body against his was something he had only fantasized about, the way you rode him letting out gasps at every movement, it was driving crazy. His hands roamed your body as if this was the last time, caressing it gently and squeezing it possessively, his breath hitching against your skin was the sign that he was about to come.

"You feel so good, love. So fucking good…" He murmured almost angrily, in a voice charged with desire you'd never heard coming out of him before, now his hips moved involuntarily in time with your movements. Couldn't get enough of you, he wanted you.

"I can... feel you." You said resting your forehead on Jace's who kept his eyes closed holding his release from giving you the pleasure you deserved. The truth of your statement was hard to ignore, the reaction of his body to you was undeniable. You could feel him very hard beneath you.

"Yes… you can feel me, sister…. I can't take it… not when you're like this…"

"But I want to feel you." Your request was only adrenaline for Jacaerys who obedient to your wishes lifted his lap with you on top so hard you had to stop to take it in, you felt his member harder than ever trying to enter being stopped by the fabric, this time you moaned differently, it was a different adrenaline. You squeezed your legs tighter taking in the sensation. "More."

"I'll give you anything you want… just… please…" he gasped with difficulty. "Don't stop."

You had become his most precious and wrong object of pleasure. Your brother let out another strangled moan, his head thrown back in ecstasy, his hands on your hips gripping tightly as he held on to the tide of pleasure that threatened to consume him. It was the first time Jacaerys had ever cared about female pleasure, specifically yours, wanting to give you the best with what little he had to offer at that moment.

"Oh, Jacaerys!" You exclaimed in a high pitched tone squeezing his shoulder, legs shaking moving fast on top of him so much it burned, Jacaerys lifting his hips in response only dragged you to orgasm, the friction of your body on him was driving him mad making question the fragility of his morals at the thought of taking you as his right there and then and stop fucking himself. Desperately knowing that at some point it was going to end, you sought his mouth to kiss him, however, both of you moaned echoing in your mouths waiting for the other to give in to let you go together. Jacaerys bit your lower lip trapping it between his teeth forcing you to stay close, he wanted to look into your eyes as you fell into sin, your hot skin was red from the effort and the rising pleasure rising from between your legs until a string of higher and higher pitched cries escaped your mouth as you reached the peak of pleasure, your body stopped moving over the prince falling in surrender and exhaustion. Jace let out a deep moan as he watched you reach orgasm feeling his crotch wet but satisfied.

You lay silently on top of him resting on his body, Jacaerys lifted your dress covering your nakedness. Your breathing needed regulating as you felt short of breath and heavy, the heir merely admired you, kissing your neck like a treasure that would soon dissolve from his hands.

"We have to report to the Council." You whispered, delighting in your brother's lips with the same guilt as at first time. "Our absence will arouse suspicion."

"I know… just one more minute." His arms still held you tightly against him, not wanting to let go just yet. He closed his eyes as you rested your cheek against his shoulder, inhaling deeply to take in your natural scent. "I cannot present myself in these conditions."

You laughed under your breath. The moment of calm disappeared when the door to Jacaerys' chambers rang another time. They didn't catch a glance as you immediately stood up and fixed your dress, your hands trembling as you tried to tie the damn knot but your fingers were so clumsy that Jace had to help you.

"One moment, please!" the prince shouted, fixing the messy hair he had been stroking for the last few minutes. The door rattled again, making them both desperate making the adrenaline rush through their blood again. "Just a moment!" Jacaerys repeated so angrily that even you were startled, he grabbed your hand pulling you with him to the door asking you to stand behind it. Your body trembled with fear, what if it was the queen seeking her heir and entering the chambers? They were a mess, their clothes gave them away, even the bed showed their sins. Jace approached your face as slowly as the soft whisper came from his mouth. "You have to be quiet, do you understand?" You nodded immediately, he couldn't resist leaving one last kiss taking advantage of the closeness.

He opened the door to find lady Baela Targaryen, his betrothed.

"Are you well?" She asked with genuine concern for Jacaerys. When you heard his voice, you had to cover your mouth with one hand to keep from saying anything.

"I feel... better, thank you."

The silence that fell was so uncomfortable you'd rather faint than have to endure it. Seconds which guilt took hold of your body.

"Are you coming to the Stone Table?"

"Sure… I just need a second." Her answer sounded so matter-of-fact that Baela nodded, but deep down she felt that something didn't sit right with Jacaerys. "I'll introduce myself in a moment."

"Have you seen your sister? I'm worried about her state of mind after her brothers left."

You closed your eyes praying to the gods to get you out of that horrible situation once and for all. Jacaerys had to lie in a way he was going to feel guilty about for the rest of his life. He shook his shoulders appearing carefree and confident.

"Did you look in the sky? She must be with her dragon, I assure you, my sister is a very good rider."

[bajicantspell]

Kodzuken in my DMs ❕

Summary: Kenma trying (and failing) to make a move  → Warnings: cursing (Fluff) 🎧 This is part one, although both can be read as a one shot Part two right here

Despite his dislike for being recognized in public and the inevitable social interactions that fame entails, he couldn't deny that it came with its advantages. For starters, living in a big house in his early twenties wasn’t something he could complain about. Sure, it might have been just a rental and not in Roppongi Hills, but that wasn't due to any financial constraints; he simply chose not to. Kenma couldn't complain, he loved helping his loved ones. Whether it was sponsoring his friend's volleyball career or paying off his parents' debt, it felt nice to be useful.

Honestly he never expected himself to get this far this early in his life. It really felt like one day he was streaming in his old room for the ten people that happened to join and the next day he’s a ceo of a company. 

However, one thing that Kenma anticipated to be much easier, but found it wasn't, was dealing with women. Its not like the requests weren’t piling up; it seemed like every hour there was a new girl in his requests offering him everything lewd imaginable.

 Sure, meaningless sex could be nice once in a while, but lately he’s been feeling very lonely. Kuroo was always working, his parents lived far away, Hinata was in fucking Brazil. Aside from calls with them and the occasional visits, tedious work meetings, and interactions in his stream chat, he had no contact with anyone. Kenma also considered that it might be FOMO, but the fact that he had never had a girlfriend didn't help. In high school, he avoided women at all costs. In college, he went on a few dates, but nothing serious came of them—just one okay-ish hookup. Then he went viral, and dating became harder, because it seemed every conversation ended up being about him and his internet presence. 

Kenma sighed while scrolling through another dating app. Everytime he matched with someone and the first message they’d sent was “OMFG ARE YOU KODZUKEN”  he wanted to smash the phone screen just a little more. Giving up, he sank deeper into his gaming chair, taking a few deep breaths. He needed to be relaxed for the stream he was about to start.

If you could tell your awkward-ugly-duckling middle school self that you would one day have nearly ten thousand Instagram followers just for being pretty, she would have laughed in your face. Though you were extremely grateful, it wasn't as if your life was substantially different from anyone else's. You don’t get payed for posting, you’re still a regular university student, and aside from the occasional scammy sponsorship offer that you always turned down (and the creepy men asking you to start an OnlyFans), there wasn’t anything outstandingly different about your life.One thing you did brag about to your friends, however, was that the famous streamer Kodzuken had been following you for a couple of months now.  Part of you was convinced it was accidental though, since he never watches any stories or interacts with any posts. Bummer, you thought he’s really cute. 

“I’m gonna buy a fucking gun and shoot myself” Kenma complained to Kuroo during their weekly call. 

“You say while wiping your tears with money” 

“Oh fuck off, I’m serious! I tried everything. I swear I’ll resort to just fucking my hand for the rest of my life” 

Kuroo snickered, then he started thinking of solutions for his lonely friend. “Okay, instead of being a drama queen in her fucking castle lets try to be reasonable. What have you tried so far?”

Kenma sighed, “Mostly dating apps to be honest. Ain’t working. Also checked my requests and they all sound like the plots to a bad porno.” 

“Seriously? Like what?” Kenma could hear Kuroo’s smug smile through the phone.

“Dude there was one where she offered to lick my toes. Not gonna lie it was tempting.” Kenma joked, earning a loud laugh from Kuroo. 

“Damn, living the dream. Anyway, have you tried making a move though? Cause what I’m getting from this is you expecting the woman of your dreams to fall from the sky.” 

“How could i even do that? Can’t go outside without a crowd following me around. Can’t imagine a girl who feels comfortable getting hit on by a dude with an army behind him.” Kenma sighed. 

“I didnt mean that dumbass, I know that. I mean like shooting your shot through social media or something. There must be at least one babe that cought your eye.” Kuroo reasoned. 

Kenma paused and thought for a moment, his cheeks flushing the slightest shade of pink.

“Well there is one…” 

“Oh yea? Who?” Kuroo smirked. 

“She’s not like, famous or anything, which I like. It’s @(youruser). Found her a couple of months ago. Physically she’s exactly my type, like everything is exactly what i like in a girl; face, body, hair, style, the whole shtick. Followed her a couple of months ago, didnt have the courage to say anything though.” Kenma nervously explained. 

“I say send her something, what’s the worst that can happen? Getting rejected? So what? Then you move on.” 

“I don’t know…I think she’s really pretty, shooting my shot and then messing up means it’d be weird to still follow her. Don’t wanna make her uncomfy. She doesn’t post anything crazy, just selfies and outfit inspo, but she’s so fucking cute in every pic and video, drives me crazy.” Kenma sheepishly smiled. 

“Even if she does turn you down if you’re nice about it I doubt she’ll be uncomfortable. I say do it.” 

Kenma sighed, knowing Kuroo was right. He opened Instagram and searched for your profile, keeping the call with Kuroo active in case you replied quickly. 

*ding* 

 You were in the middle of doing some coursework when your phone buzzed. Glancing at the screen, you expected it to be a new follower. Your eyes went wide when you realized the notification said ‘@kodzuken wants to send you a message’.

No fucking way, you thought. 

You anxiously unlocked your phone, your focus completely shifting from your studies. 

What you didnt know is that  an equally anxious Kenma was patiently waiting for at least a ‘seen’ with his best bud on the line. 

You opened the message. 

Kodzuken: Hey :) 

Your finger hovered over the keyboard of your phone for just a second before replying.

You: Hiiiii

You cringed at your reply, it seemed to childish and dry at the same time. 

Kenma didnt think so, he was too busy panicking over the fact that you replied. Maybe he never got over his social anxiety after all. 

“Dude she replied.” He said, not fully believing himself. 

“Damn, that was fast,’ Kuroo smirked, ‘I’ll leave you lovebirds alone, gotta catch up on some work stuff. Talk to you later!” 

“Wait Kuro don’t-” before Kenma could finish his sentence the call was over. 

He clicked his tongue in annoyance- “Asshole”, he mumbled.  

He stared at the screen, unable to muster the courage to type anything. It was then that he realized this might be the first time he truly liked a girl, due to the anxious feeling that had left him since high school. With trembling fingers unable to type anything, he sighed and set his phone down, promising himself he would reply in an hour. However, that hour stretched into several, and then two days passed. He felt insanely pathetic. 

Kenma was on call with Kuroo again, Kuroo couldn’t stop complaining about the shitty meeting he had the day before.

“He was such an asshole, fucking bastard rolled his eyes everytime my colleagues and I talked. Like shut the fuck up. If you hate your job this fucking much at least don’t bring misery into ours.” 

Kenma could only hum in response, preoccupied with setting up for his stream while his mind was flooded with self-critical thoughts.

Kuroo noticed the uncharacteristic response from his best friend- If there was one thing Kenma loved, it was shit talk, and Kuroo knew that all too well from years and years of friendship with him, and the countless brutalities that Kenma would throw at him and others he was comfortable with. He would point out things in such a monotone way, you couldn’t even be mad. Kenma was a hater to his core, so not hearing even a snicker from the other side of the line was concerning. 

“Hey man, are you okay?” He asked.

“Yea its whatever.” 

Kuroo suspected what this might be about. 

“So uh.. how did things with the girl go?” 

“They didn’t fucking go.” Kenma let out a huff of laughter through his nose, tinged with self-pity.

“Hm? How come?” 

“I panicked and left her on seen. And I highly doubt I can recover that now. Like what am I gonna say? Hi sorry I left you on seen even though I texted you first, I’m just too fucking high and mighty to reply.” 

“Well definitely don’t say that.” Kuroo joked. 

“I seriously fumbled. Fuck,” Kenma muttered just loud enough for Kuroo to hear, running a hand through his hair.

“It’s okay, man. These things happen,” Kuroo said empathetically, his voice gentle and reassuring. “Everyone fucks up sometimes. You just need to give yourself a break.”, though he didnt get a response from the overthinker. 

“You’re gonna start a stream soon yea?” Kuroo changed the subject, he knew that the best way to make Kenma feel better was to distract him or piss him off a little. The second part was coming later. 

“Yea, almost done setting up. Gonna start in five.” 

“I might stay and watch a little today, I’m off work for the weekend.”

“Kay, I’m gonna hang up now. ‘Bout to start.” 

You checked the chat a couple of times during those two days, though the bitter ‘seen’ never changed. You couldn’t lie, you were a little disappointed. You didnt know much about video games, but you enjoyed his streams once in a while. He was a bit of a celebrity crush for you. 

It was the weekend, and with not much to do, you mindlessly scrolled through Instagram stories to kill time. You stumbled upon Kodzuken’s story, it was a picture of his monitor, with the text “streaming” and a link to his twitch. Although you were disappointed with the outcome of your “conversation”, you thought it couldn’t hurt watching for a bit. 

You clicked the link, and as you entered the stream, the first thing you noticed was his not-so-happy expression. His chat was filled with messages asking if he was okay.

You watched for a little bit, nothing particularly special happening. 

As you were about to click off, Kenma snapped at his chat. "Guys, I'm fine! Please stop asking." The irritation in his voice was evident. Despite his words, the tone of his voice betrayed him, revealing a hint of underlying frustration or perhaps even distress.

Another autogenerated voiced question popped on the screen, something that happens with every donation. “Okay man! Whatever it is, don’t worry, we won’t nag you.” The robotic tone of the voice did little to mask the genuine concern behind the words.

 Kenma’s shoulders tensed for a moment before he forced a small, appreciative smile. “Thanks,” he muttered, the frustration in his voice easing slightly. He ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath. “I appreciate it, really. Let’s just focus on the game, okay?”

You decided to stay for just a little longer, puzzled at the unfamiliar demeanor of the famous streamer. 

A few minutes go by, and another donation followed by the familiar robotic voice  “@KUROROROTETSU : don’t mind him he fumbled the insta baddie” 

Your cheeks flushed for just a second though you were quickly brought back to reality by the man on the screen in front of you.

“Fucking kill yourself. Like I’m not even kidding I need you dead on my doorstep.” Kenma cursed to distract you the audience from his embarrassment, his eyebrows furrowed and a huge shit eating grin plastered on his face.

The chat started blowing up with laughs and ‘Kodzu’s back guys’

Kenma added, “before anyone cancels me that was my best friend of twenty years, don’t take the clip out of context.” He laughed.

Your favorite comment was someone saying “guys kodzu gets not bitches he’s just like me fr”, it made you let out a small giggle.

You debated with yourself, engaging in a mental monologue. ‘If I send him a message and it turns out to be about me, that’s the best case scenario. The worst case is completely humiliating myself in front of someone really famous,’ you reasoned.

You decided that a little embarrassment was a risk worth taking this time.

Kenma continued playing as usual, engaging and laughing with his audience. He felt his phone buzz and saw the screen light up beside him.

@(youruser) : for the record, I don’t think you fumbled me <3

He glanced at the screen, reading the notification, and immediately turned beet red. His heart raced as he processed the message. Slowly, he lifted his eyes to the camera, his expression a mix of surprise and embarrassment, as if he were looking directly at you through the screen.

“I uh.. hold on guys i need to reply to this for a second.” He said as he proceeded to pause metal gear solid. 

Your screen was still open to your chat, and a surge of excitement ran through you when you saw the telltale indicator that he was typing.

Kodzuken : holy shit I’m so sry, didn’t know you were watching 

(Youruser) : ahahah dw its fine

Kodzuken : can I text you after I’m done? Totally fine if u don’t wanna tho

Well it wasn’t totally fine, he really hoped you’d say yes.

(Youruser) : I’ll be waitiiiing :) 

Needless to say, that was the longest a stream had ever felt. He could hardly wait to finish so he could talk to you; properly this time.

𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕖𝕤 ↓。

part two right here , also i found these banners on Pinterest, if anyone knows who made these pls lmk so i can give credit

[sulumuns-dootah]

Can I request a headcanon of whb king (plus any other characters you want) reacting to gn mc avoiding them for as long as she can because mc got dared to by some random demon

WHB kings' reaction to MC avoiding them because of a dare

⟡ Masterlist ⟡

A/N: Hi! This was so fun to write since each king had a completelly different reaction ^^ Sorry for the long wait though t-t

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Oh, Satan doesn't like this at all

The moment he notices your suspiciously long absence, he's on the prowl

Where are you and why tf are you avoiding him?

He'll even send out Amy and his group to look for you and bring you to him

Hopefully he'll during his search find out about the dare

At least hopefully for you

Poor demon who dared you will find himself homeless after Satan in his demon form destroys his place

Once that's dealt with, the next time you go outisde, you come face to face with Satan, leaning back against his bike

"Talked to that mf. The dare's called off :)"

    ༺☆༻

Mammon notices that you haven't been around him much, but he just chalks it up to you being busy

He's okay with it, knowing that eventually you'll come back to him anyway

Besides, if you needed something, you'd surely call him

After finding out that it's a dare, he's also curious how long you'll be able to keep away from him

If he ever gets worried about you, he'll just send one of his nobles to check up on you

Once you're back to him, he's taking you out for a dinner to congratulate you on how long you lasted

    ༺☆༻

Leviathan knew from the beginning thanks to Foras

You don't even get to leave the Hades castle so it's easier for you to avoid him when you get a message from the devil who dared you that the dare is off

It doesn't take a genius to realise that the poor demon had been visited by His Majesty himself and forced to end your dare early

Most likely, if you video-called with him, he'll be gasping for air, hung by a noose

The next time you see Leviathan, he acts like nothing happened, but you can feel his piercing stare when you're not looking at him

He's most likely not sure how to punish you yet...

But once he does...

Oh boy, now comes the moment to avoid him for the sole sake of your survival

    ༺☆༻

Funny :)

You think you can avoid Beel? :)

I mean, technically you could do that by hanging around in the Abyssos castle, but even then you can't exactly avoid Beel

If Beel wants to see you, he'll come and see you

Doesn't matter where you are or what you're doing

Even if it means that he'll have to sneak through his own castle to escape Bael's wrath

And even more so, if he finds out about the dare...

Oops, he just reminded he meant to take you to this place and booked it in advance and can't cancel it

Sorry, guess you'll have to spend the whole month with him :)

I guess the rule with Beel is that the more you want him, the less he'll be around

(True story with my pulls for his cards tbh T-T)

    ༺☆༻

Belphie would probably realise that it's been a while since you were there when he woke up, but eh...

Maybe you're just busy doing your work

No sweat

That is until Beleth accidentally slips up about the dare

Oh?

Now that is something different

Prepare to start dreaming about him every night

That'll eventually make you come back...

And if not, don't worry...

Belphie's ability can bring you back anytime, so enjoy your time away from him before he decides this little game is over

    ༺☆༻

Keeping away from Asmo is honestly your day-to-day task, so I don't think there's much difference

That is until you realize that it's time for another annual king meeting

The real challenge becomes coming up with a good reason to excuse yourself from it

And all the nobles are helping you at this point

Sure, you could just not go, but Asmo might then leave the meeting to come and see you since he was so excited to meet you after so long

In the end Leviathan coems to save the day and hides you inside his coffin for as long as the need be

Phew

You're safe for another year

    ༺☆༻

To Lucifer, not seeing you for a long time is a good thing

It just means you're healthy and safe

But he does eventually start to miss you

And then Gamigin talks a bit too much and mentions that you've been avoiding Paradise Lost because of a dare

So whenever you need medical assistance one of the nobles has to do a house call

...

A house call?

That sounds unsanitary

Who even knows what germs and bacteria you might catch

Lucifer better make his way over to you for a surprise visit to make sure you're doing well

And no apples can save you from this doctor

[physics-of-one-piece]

Since I did what Doflamingo does/says in I'll build castles for you, my love (look at me, not my brother) (Rosinante x Reader x Doflamingo WIP) I bring the aforementioned brother from the title and a snippet (which is before he dies but I wrote it and nearly cried, so I thought it was worth a share) with him:

Some NSFW mentions in the bulletpoints but nothing descriptive:

Gets into a first bath in a month with Law and bathes him, trips on the floor getting out the bath

trips and falls in his own house in a hurry to get the medicine for Law's fever

most softest 10 foot lover in the One Piece World but he absolutely can rock your world

always careful with his big hands

never holds himself to intimidate while home

has fun coloured sweaters and fun shirts

your favourite outfit of his is his blue dress shirt and white pants, he looks so FINE in that 👌🏻👌🏻👌🏻 also his marine uniform without the coat 🫠

watches you fuss over Law and cries

he kneels down to hug you, and always loves getting his hair ruffled by you

peppers you with kisses when he comes home

removes make-up and makes Law scream thinking he's Doflamingo

"Did you think my actual name was Donquixote Corazon? Cutee~"

when asked by Law who you are, Rosinante blushes, smiles goofily and chuckles, saying "She's... my wife."

insulted by Law saying to you, "You deserve better."

dances with you in the kitchen

finishes his jobs for Doflamingo early so he can spend the rest of the days he is supposed to be away with you, which means this man sails to you as much as he can

spent two weeks with you and got you pregnant in that timeframe

always bring a bouquet and chocolates and souvenirs from islands he visited when he comes home to you

puts you in a Silent bubble so you can scream your anger/frustration away

his Silent is literally your therapy and when you tell him his Devil Fruit is your favourite Devil Fruit, he grins so bright, the sun wishes it could shine like that

you meet him when he crashes into you

How many guys can say their clumsiness got them a wife? Not many. Exactly, Rosinante is built different.

cries every time you make him pancakes for breakfast

actually a solid cook, but he needs to be watched, always have water nearby

You call him Rosi or Rosinante

He blushes when you call him Corazón or Cora-san. Once roleplayed as his "pirate" persona, and he managed for five minutes before breaking character and you laughed for a good ten minutes

you can get as loud as you want in the bedroom within his Silent bubble 😉

you love his red hat

he can bake cookies and they're sent from heaven

has his own marine squad since he's a Commander and his crew is awesome (original characters but I like them, you'll see)

kills a Celestial Dragon that tries to kidnap you and makes it look like an assassination by pirates - Sengoku is on board with it

humble and sweet wedding day, Rosinante cried the whole time

loves cuddles & loves your cooking

cried of joy when getting a lunch box for his journey with Law from you

takes the secret he has a wife to his grave, never mentioned you to Doflamingo, never let Doflamingo find out about you (considering the chapters with Doflamingo that come, very clear why)

died not knowing you were pregnant, as even you didn't know it at the time (I'm so sorry 😭)

And here is the snippet:

Your face flashed in his mind.

Sorry, mi amor. thought Rosinante.

The red lenses that have by now become his brother’s eyes stared down at Rosinante coldly, red stained glass reflecting the falling snowflakes.

Guess I’m not coming back home this time.

Rosinante was going to make sure Law gets away. He could get himself to Eudai by paying a fisherman to get him there. He’d be safe there, and with any luck, he could then decide what he wanted to do with his life. He knew you wouldn’t ask Law to stay with you if Law didn’t want to. You were good at reading the kid like that.

Law was a smart cookie. He’d probably activate his Devil Fruit powers in an hour from now on and heal himself within a minute. Rosinante knew it. He believed in it.

Rosinante isn’t worried about anything, he isn’t afraid. He is grateful. He is so grateful to be here, in this moment, on the side he considers right.

Not on the marines’ side. Not on the pirates’ side.

On Law’s side. He was Law’s Corazón now, not Doflamingo’s.

You said such to him yourself. Law saw Rosinante as his guide, Law trusted him, had faith in him, just like you did. Law had become a part of Rosinante’s family, your small family Rosinante was the patriarch of, the protector of. Rosinante wasn’t fighting for the marines now, or for the pirates. He was fighting for a sick little boy because nobody else would, nobody else wanted to, nobody else thought to, except him and you.

You had guided him and supported him to become the man he is today, catching him by the hand before he could trip and fall the same way his brother did. 

He remembered the first time you tried to teach him how to dance with him, and he ended up stepping on both your feet. 

“I’m so sorry! Please give me another chance.”

You told him, “Just enjoy the dance.” before pulling him into your first dance together, and he did as you asked, letting his legs follow the beat and the song, and it turned out okay. He never stepped on your feet again.

Six months later, he was dancing with you every day in the living room of the house the two of you called home, pulling you into a dance on the field of blue forget-me-nots, your sweet, soft laughter caressing his ears.

Because of you, Rosinante knew he’d never lose his way. Because if he did, you’d set him straight, grip his hand so he doesn’t fall apart. 

You were the flag Rosinante carried in his heart.

He felt so lucky to have you. He was the clumsiest, luckiest man on the planet. He never thought his clumsiness would bring him to you.

Rosinante was happy. Donquixote Rosinante was the happiest man on earth. He didn’t need any treasure, or an army, or a country, or immortality, or the world. None of those things could ever make him happy as living with you and Law did.

And Rosinante realised it then; it was that Doflamingo lacked. He had a family, but he also didn’t. For a moment, Rosinante pitied his brother, even though his brother had done it to himself. To live without experiencing pure happiness, genuine happiness, without hurting anyone to attain it… 

It must hurt, Doffy. thought Rosinante sadly. You must be lonely.

Rosinante looks at his older brother, and for the last time, there is a pang of pain in his heart at the sight of what his older brother has become. 

Rosinante pulled out the pistol, aiming it at his big brother — at Doffy, at Doffy — pulling back the safety pin, knowing very well he wouldn’t press the trigger, and knowing very well his brother would.

Rosinante really wished he’d gotten to dance with you one more time. 

***

Word Count Report:

Currently, Rosinante's part (Part 1) is 8.4k words, Doflamingo's Part 2 is 13k words so that one might get separated into 2 parts to keep it a normal word count. Part 3 (also Doflamingo) is the shortest at 4k words but there is a lot left to write and plan for that part.

Taglist: @fanaticsnail

[linos-luna]

My Queen (Pt. 5) ❣️🔪

Yandere!Hyunjin x Fem!Reader

(Pt. 4) (Pt. 5) (Pt 6)

Warnings: Stockholm Syndrome, Yandere, delusions, 18+ SMUT, body worship

—————————————————— 👑

Being with Hyunjin has made you lose track of time. The days just seemed to blend together. Everyday was just so lovely and blissful. Hyunjin, your lovely boyfriend—no Fiancé!, treated you like royalty and perhaps you’re also falling victim to his delusions. But does that even matter?

So imagine your surprise when you woke up to Hyunjin telling you that it’s your birthday.

For the past week or so you’ve been so focused on your dream wedding. You were ecstatic about marrying the love of your life and had so many ideas. Hyunjin loved hearing them all and was in the process of figuring out how to make them all reality. Heck, you felt like you were in a dream.

One day your sweet prince sweeps you away from the cruel world and brings you home to the castle. That’s what happened, right? He loves and spoils you every day all day. He serves you like a queen. You didn’t give much thought to your past life. It was probably boring. It was probably bleak and mundane. No one loved you like Hyunjin. At least that’s what he said, and why would he lie to you?

You didn’t think about anyone else. Parents? Family? Who cares? Bosses? What bosses? Hyunjin says your family were abusive. Of course that’s why you don’t care. You can’t even remember some of their names. But they were awful to you! Your father? He would beat you! Your mother? She’d neglect you! You don’t remember it much but that’s what Hyunjin said happened. They never kept you safe! That’s why you need Hyunjin.

Friends? What friends? You had none that cared and didn’t think of them. Well… You did think about one friend…

The day you were proposed to… when was that? 2-3 weeks ago? You ran into your old friend Jihyo.

You know that Hyunjin said that you have no real friends and if you did, they don’t care but you knew that’s partially a lie. You can’t seem to remember any other friends or relationships but you remember Jihyo. She’s been your best friend since childhood. You trusted her and know she cares.

~~~~ 👑

“What do you want to do for your birthday, my queen?”

You were watching as Hyunjin made your breakfast, deep in thought before his voice snapped you out of it.

“Hm… not sure…” you replied. “Any ideas Jinnie? You know better.”

“Perhaps I’ll think of something.” He said with a shrug before putting a plate of French Toast in front of you.

“Actually…” you perked up as you had an idea. “I’d love to see my friend… remember Jihyo?”

“Friend?” He chuckled while cutting a piece of toast for you. “My love, you have no friends.”

“Well not true…” you said while taking a bite. “There’s Jihyo. My friend since we were little. Probably my only friend.”

“Really? Are you sure about that?”

“Yes Jinnie, I’m sure.” You replied with a frown. “If there’s one thing I do know, it’s that Jihyo is my best friend.”

Hyunjin was silent as he continued feeding you. He’s not sure why you’re bringing up this friend now. It bothered him. No one cares for you more than he does!

“Jinnie, I wanna see her for my—”

“No.” He interrupted.

“We maybe she can visit the—?”

“No!”

“Jinnie—”

“I SAID NO!” He snapped, slamming his fist on the table which startled you. It’s been a while since he’s gotten mad at you like that.

“I’m sorry, darling…” he said with a sigh when seeing your frightened expression. He took your hand and kissed it. “Don’t be scared…”

Once breakfast was done, Hyunjin was quick to clean up the kitchen while you went to brush your teeth.

“Never yell at the Queen! Never never never!” He whispered to himself as he washed the dishes, now feeling awful.

You just really wanted to see your friend… Why did Hyunjin get so mad? 

After you were done, you felt Hyunjin come behind you, putting his hands on your hips and resting his head on your shoulder. He was so soft and gentle, and his breath tickled.

“Would you like a bath, my love?” He asked sweetly. “I bought some new soaps that I think you’ll love.”

“Okay Jinnie.” You smiled. Hyunjin didn’t bathe you every day, mostly days he let you shower by yourself, but when he does bathe you, it’s always so nice.

Hyunjin was so gentle when bathing you. He had your hair braided and pulled away from your face as he gently scrubbed at your body. You sat in the tub, taking in the warmth of the water and lovely scent of the soap. He hummed softly as he cleaned you and smiled whenever you made eye contact, making you blush. How could this man be so handsome?

After bathing, your fiancé dried you up and put a fluffy bathrobe on you. It was warm and fluffy, so cozy and comfy. He pulled out some lotion and started moisturizing your body.

You briefly pulled out your arms briefly to let him put the lotion on before slipping the sleeves back on. Hyunjin had you lay down against the pillows and started with your legs. Going from your legs to your thighs, had him blushing.

So so beautiful. He thought.

His hands shook a little as he lotioned up your legs and stomach. You couldn’t help blushing when he was close to your inner thighs. Even after there was no more substance on his hands, he continued rubbing your waist and now your breasts, massaging them while rubbing his thumbs over your now hard nipple.

You moaned a little at the feeling and couldn’t help feeling a little wet between your legs…

“You’re so beautiful, my love.” He whispered while leaning in to kiss you. “Did you have a good day?”

“Mmhm…” you nodded with a sigh as he massaged your soft flesh.

The man kissed your lips and down your neck. He adored your small whimpers and went back to your lips to catch them.

“My Love…” he said between kisses. “Let me spoil you with my love…”

“You spoil me all the time, Jinnie…” you giggled while putting your hands on his shoulders.

Hyunjin kissed down your chest and soon to your breasts. He massaged the skin while kissing and now sucking on your nipple.

You moaned as he harshly pinched your other nipple, rolling it between his fingers.

You held onto his hair, tensing up as he nipped at the soft skin.

“No, darling.” Hyunjin paused while moving your hand. “Let me do all the work… let me worship you like the queen you are…”

Hyunjin made small groans as he continued sucking on your breasts, only letting off for air.

The man then rubbed down your sides and to your hips. Since you were just bathed, he took in the sweet scent of your body and kissed around your thighs. Your thighs were pretty sensitive and it took a lot for you not to move.

“My love…” He mumbled. “So beautiful…”

Hyunjin got closer to your cunt and you whimpered when feeling his hot breath on you.

Your fiancé started kissing at your cunt. It was slow and gentle, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t making you moan out loud.

“Jinnie— fuck—”

Your thighs were shut around his head; he squeezed them as he ate you out. It was hard for you to keep your voice down and your back was arched.

It was unexpected but you came fairly quick. But Hyunjin didn’t mind; instead he lapped up your essence before looking up at you.

You were pretty fucked out. Breathing heavily as you tried thinking clearly.

“Did you like that, my love?” He asked while gently rubbing your sides. “Shall I spoil you more?”

“Mmhm~” you said sigh. He just felt so good.

Hyunjin was quick to remove his pants and boxers. He kissed your lips before rubbing his cock against your cunt, making you cry out. He didn’t want to tease you much longer and thrusted right it. He loved how you were tight around him and he pinned your wrists to each side of your head.

His thrusts were slow. You thought maybe he was teasing you, but no. He was just getting you warmed up. It wasn’t long before he went a little faster… and deeper.

Soon enough, the sound of skin slapping was in the air and your breathy moans echoed off the walls. There was no volume control as your eyes were rolled back. He kissed at your neck while whispering praises in your ear.

“My lovely Queen~” his voice was soft and breathless. It had your head spinning. “so beautiful…”

“Fairest woman… purest queen… your body glows with beauty…”

As corny as his compliments were, they were always nice to hear.

He was close to his own high, losing some control as he went faster.

“Fuck—” he grunted while rubbing your clit with his thumb. “Fuck-… my love—”

“Jinnie-!” You cried out at the feeling of him thumb, bucking your hips to meet his as you were just as desperate. “Jinnie-… I wanna cum—”

Hyunjin only continued rubbing your clit some more until you finally let go. He was about to pull out when you grabbed his arm.

“Fill me, jinnie…” you whined. “I want your cum… I want you~”

Who was he to question you? Of course he’ll listen! He held your hand as he came, painting your walls white. And it felt so good.

You just knew the substance would be dripping out when he pulls out, you were stuffed as he stayed still to catch his breath.

He was amazing. With his handsome features and luscious hair, you wondered how you were able to find a man so amazing…

——— 👑

As you got dressed, Hyunjin was pacing in the living room. He felt bad; You wanted so badly to see your friend.

“She wants to… the Queen wants to…”

You paused, listening to him from the other side of the wall.

“I must do what the Queen wants… no but it’s dangerous…”

You were confused, as he… arguing with himself…?

“No— what if— no! No exceptions!” He snapped. “That girl… she’ll steal my queen away!”

That’s ridiculous. He’s probably just thinking out loud

“She wouldn’t… but maybe she would… I trust my Queen…”

Hyunjin rubbed his forehead in frustration. “Bring her to the castle… it’s safer— no! Away from castle— no not outside…”

You were a bit worried. He seemed really frustrated with himself.

“But she won’t be happy—… she has to be happy!” He blurted out now smacking his head. “She has to be! Happy! Happy! Happy!”

You came out as you could hear his frustration and ran to him when seeing him harming himself. “Jinnie stop!”

“Happy- are you happy?!” He yelled out while grabbing your hand and falling to his knees. “My queen must be happy! Are you satisfied?!”

It was a bit unnerving how frantic he was. He wasn’t even looking at you, instead staring at the floor while rocking slightly. He was distraught but not crying. He was even shaking a little as he squeezed your hand.

“I am happy, Jinnie—”

“Good! That’s good!” He interrupted while kissing your hand. “See she’s happy!”

It was hard to tell what exactly was wrong with him. You didn’t hear him talk to himself like this often… and when he did, you never knew what to do.

“Does my queen want to see her friend?” He asked, still looking down but holding your hand to his head.

“I-I… um… yeah…” you replied awkwardly.

“I’ll make it happen… anything for my queen… anything for her…” there was a moment of silence before he looked up at you with a blank expression.

“Jinnie?”

“Yes Love?” He replied with a smile as if nothing was wrong.

“A-are you okay…?”

“Don’t worry about me.” He said while standing up. “We should call your friend. Let me get your phone.”

“You… broke it… quite a while ago…”

“Really?” He asked sounding genuinely confused. “Perhaps it’s somewhere… can’t be that broken…”

After some quick searching through the drawers, Hyunjin was able to find it. He plugged it into a charger and surprisingly it turned on. The screen was practically shattered but he was sure to be able to get the number he needed.

——— 👑

Your friend was actually surprised to get a call from you. She was afraid he locked you up forever, never letting you out again.

“Y/n?”

“Jihyo! Jinnie says it’s my birthday!” You said excitedly. “He says we can hang out!”

“Oh… that’s great.” Your friend replied, taken aback. “Am I going to your house?”

“Jinnie says you can’t come to the castle.”

“Why not?”

“Because you can’t.” You replied with a shrug. “No one is allowed in the Queen’s castle.”

“But he’s allowed?”

“Yes because he rescued me silly!”

“Right…” she replied awkwardly. “So… where are we going?”

“Jinnie picked out a restaurant. To get late lunch and maybe dessert!”

“Alright then… text me the address.” She said with a sigh. “I’ll meet you guys there…”

Hyunjin was behind you as you had your little conversation, a bit nervous to how this outting would pan out. Sure he wants you to be happy, after all it is your birthday, but how is he going to keep your friend in check?

Jihyo also wondered how this would play out. Maybe she can snap you out of whatever spell this man has you under. Maybe she can save you from his brainwashing…

————————————————— 👑

Sorry to keep y’all’s waiting. I got busy 😅

[akumadayo777]

ok, so backstory time since I couldn't stop thinking about it. the brainrot has gotten to me lol

the day Pomni and Gummigoo met in the Digital Kingdom

Ten years prior to the events in the AU, Gummigoo had been traversing the streets as a visiting noble from the Candy Kingdom. I'm not certain of his age but I like to headcanon him as a couple of years younger than Pomni, so he's about 13 here while Pomni is 15. At this point in time, Pomni was somewhat of a poor street urchin. She happened upon a group of thugs ganging up on Gummi trying to rob him of any valuables, and being the scrappy street rat she is, she beat the crap out of them in the most slapstick of ways. Gummigoo was very grateful and felt in debt to her ever since, they formed a very fast friendship from this moment forward (and maaayybe some unrequited feelings)

Now Caine had witnessed the whole kerfuffle and was quite amused by her antics and impressed by her quick wit in a fight, and being Royal Advisor he saw fit to make her the Court Jester immediately. And so she's been living at the castle ever since. Gummi would visit the kingdom every once in awhile, but one day he stopped showing up and they haven't seen each other in years, which brings us to the present day. How did a sweet noble boy become the most notorious criminal in all the neighboring kingdoms? ...not sure yet still getting there lmao

also apologies if this looks awful, I'm not much of a scene illustrator, I'd love to make comics in general some day but I'm a total comic making noob, so this is the best I can do for now 😭

[towriteloveontheirarms]

Playtime´s over (Viserys I Targaryen x servant!reader)

synopsis: King Viserys calls you into his chambers for a favor.

warnings: DUB CON (power imbalance), age gap, very little plot, smut, oral (m recieving), p in v sex, unprotected sex

word count: 1.4k

A/N: This is technically my first smut in a while so please be nice. Also this can be read as a stand alone or as a prologue to my mini-series I could protect you

You are sitting on a blanket with Aemond, a book on one thigh and the six year old Prince on the other. Enjoying the warmth of the late summer sun high in the sky from within the gardens, as you read the Prince a story of old Valyria. It was his favorite place in the entire keep, he had frequently told you, to which you let out a chuckle. Alicent had just recently scolded you for reading those cruel stories to a six year old, but Aemond would not stop pouting and huffing until he saw you pull out the book he wanted. In all fairness you think she is just overprotective of him. It is magnificent how such a ´well-behaved´ child could be so insistent and headstrong at the same time. You shake the thought with a smile. Even in his young age it is clear that Aemond has not many friends as it seems and you are happy to lend him some company whenever he asks. He is such a smart and kind child. You often feel sorry that he and his siblings each seem to share a deep interest with their father, yet the man could not be more uninterest in them. Your voice is quiet as to not interrupt the peace around  the two of you, barely heard over the singing birds in the trees and bushes around as a maid approaches you. Interrupting you mid-sentence.

“My apologies, Aemond. It seems like playtime is over for now.” You set the boy down so you can stand up.

“The king demands to see you.” The woman simply says. Her eyes are trained on you with a look of pity in them.

You thank her with a nod. Immediately you can feel the perspiration on your palms and close your eyes to take a deep breath, in the hopes it would make the wish to chew down your fingernails again.

“Are you in trouble?” You hear Aemonds calm but concerned voice behind you. He looked so serious for a child.

“No, of course not. What would possibly make you think that, little dragon?” You put on a smile for the boy again. He doesn´t need to see the nervousness in you at what comes next.

“Whenever my siblings or I talk to my father we get yelled at.” The statement makes you click your tongue in disapproval of the treatment these children experienced.

“Don´t worry, Aemond. I have to leave now, but if you wish to, we can continue our reading in the evening. Hm?” you pick up your tone in the hopes to cheer the young Prince up again. Even if only a bit.

“I would like that.” He gives you a smile back.

“Perfect. I will see you later then.” You make your way towards the Maegor´s holdfast as quickly as possible, without running. Wondering what it would be that he would ask of you today.

Knocking quietly on the King´s chamber doors quietly you get called in in a matter of seconds. Viserys is sitting by his model, giving you some hope that today he had called you for something more innocent. You could not have been more wrong. Unknowing what his intentions for this meeting are, you stand by the closed door, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. You are sure you are not much older than the current queen, when rumors of her visits made their rounds through the castle´s staff.

“Your majesty called for me?” You bow your head in greeting.

“Yes. Come here.” The instruction comes in a calm tone and he doesn´t look up from his model.

“As you wish, your grace.” You go to kneel between his legs without any more words.

His leg muscles tense instantly under your touch as you let your hands rub over his thighs. Every stroke getting them closer to the hardness underneath the soft material of the clothing. Once your fingertips feel his manhood twitch, they waste no time to open the zipper to free his cock from its confines.

The two of you had done this countless times before. It never really got any easier, but you were always sure to find a present along with your moon tea. So, you start placing gentle kisses across his length, from the stones to the leaking tip. Which you grace with little kitten licks.

Viserys groans above you. One of his hands threading into your hair, tugging on it, at the roots. The action pulls a moan from your lips. You let his hand guide you. Your lips close around his shaft, taking him in as deep as possible without choking, hollowing out your cheeks to earn another groan. Viserys´ hand is not gentle as it guides your head up and down on his cock in a steady rhythm. He never had been. You don´t know why you still think it would change. His length twitches inside of your mouth. So you take him deeper, fastening the speed in which you bob your head up and down. It becomes harder to breath and you can feel your jaw starting to hurt slowly but surely. Then you here that moan and feel him twitch again. The telltale sign he is close to finishing. You pray for your knees that he comes quickly and start to play with his sac with the hand that isn´t wrapped around the base of his length.

Suddenly Viserys tugs at your hair again. Pulling you off him. You raise an eyebrow at him, but stay quiet.

“On the bed.” Comes his breathless instruction.

You follow it suit. Slipping the fine dress he had gifted you not too long ago over your head and rid yourself of your small clothes, before laying on your back in the middle of the mattress. Legs spread for him to see your cunny.

The corners of his parted lips go upwards with a huffed chuckle and you see the dilated pupils of those beautiful Targaryen typical lilac eyes travel downwards. Then with a deep inhale from both of your lungs he buries himself deep inside your tight heat. His breath fans over you face as he begins to move, but the way he ruts into your core is anything but romantic. It´s a cold way of satisfying his own needs without any regard for yours. A way to get rid of any stresses.

You make sure to hold on to his shoulders, gazing deeply into his eyes, that are focused on where he disappears inside of you. Soft and breathy whimpers fall from your mouth. Along with his huffs and hisses they are the only sounds in the room. The pace he sets at first is slow. Almost painfully so, with the lack of preparation, but when your hand finds its way between your legs to rub circles into the bundle of nerves sat atop of your cunt it gets easier. The motion sends sparks of pleasure through your body, the velvety walls fluttering around his cock. As a result Viserys picks up the pace with which he drives into you. The lewd sound of skin slapping on skin grows louder.

I doesn´t take long until you bring yourself to finish. Your walls tighten around him and in time with your shaking legs, you hear that telling groan from above you once more.

“Beg for me. Beg for my seed.” The kings breathless voice rings from over you and of course you oblige instantly.

“Please, my king. Spill yourself inside of me. Please give me your seed.” Your voice is high pitched and you look at him with the most needy look as your eyes meet.

With a few more rolls of his hips and a few more honey voiced pleas from your mouth, his forehead rests against your shoulder. You feel his finish paint your insides white, taking a few more breaths to calm down.

He is quick to pull his softening cock out of you and sit up at the edge of the bed, tugging himself into his pants to make himself presentable again. You do the same. Standing up to put your dress back on, with his seed dribbling down your thigh.

“Your majesty.” You curtsy once more when you are done. Closing the heavy door on your way out. Making your way through the corridors, to clean yourself up, before you returned to your proper tasks around the castle.

[dyns33]

Flufftober 2024 - 18 The Corinthian

If you asked the Corinthian if he liked his job, he would have a hard time answering.

Most of the time, he took great pleasure in being a nightmare. Most of the dreamers he visited were not good people. He was there to reflect their darkness, their monstrosities, their worst sides. Even if he was normally supposed to make them think and push them to be better, the Corinthian was mostly satisfied with seeing their terror.

But sometimes, he landed in the dreams of simpler, almost innocent people. Even if no one was completely innocent.

Again, he could find it amusing to scare these idiots who did not dare to live their lives fully, who respected the rules, taking no risks.

And then, there was Y/N. His exception.

If Morpheus had noticed that he had not done his duty well on several occasions on the nights he had to visit this particular human, he never said anything.

The first time, the Corinthian had wondered if there was a mistake. Why would such a pure girl need to dream of him ? Aside from making her cry and avoid sleep for several days, his intervention would bring nothing positive.

He couldn't explain why he didn't want that with her.

"Hello? " she had greeted him the first time she had seen him.

"Hello. Lost ?"

"I don't know. Where are we ? Do I know you ?"

"Not yet." he had purred, smiling.

"I feel like I know you. You seem nice."

Normally, the Corinthian would have found the remark stupid. Because he didn't seem nice, not at all, even when he took on an innocent face to approach his prey, who were simply too foolish to notice the dark aura that surrounded him.

But this time, with Y/N, he had frozen, losing his smile, thinking that he wouldn't mind being nice for once, being liked by someone, knowing her and becoming friends.

They had spent the night talking, until she woke up. It had been hard not to see her again for several months, even if time passed differently in the Dreaming.

The Corinthian couldn't even be sure that he would see her again one day. He could have visited her in secret, or escaped to go see her in the Waking world, without worrying about the trouble he might have.

It was a real joy for him to find her again. He thought he knew this feeling, every time he made a dreamer tremble with terror, but apparently he was wrong.

"Cori ! I'm so happy to see you !"

"Not as much as me, my angel."

Every moment spent with her was wonderful, he cherished them all, without realizing how important it was.

Because there came a time when it had been far too long since he had seen her for his liking. It could have been a good thing, that Y/N didn't have nightmares so often.

But when he visited Lucienne, pretending to look at the dreamers' books without any interest, he grimaced when he saw that Y/N's had an ending.

"An ending ? What does it mean, when a book has an ending ?"

"… You should go back to your post, Corinthian." the librarian sighed sadly.

"Answer me !"

"You know it very well, my nightmare. Don't yell at Lucienne because of the nature of things, she has nothing to do with it."

"… No."

While he couldn't blame Lucienne, or even Dream, Corinthian cursed his father Time, and his older sister, leaving the castle screaming. His master didn't stop him.

His eyes not allowing him to cry, the Corinthian simply sat near the place where he had been created. He then thought that if he was unmade, maybe Death would be kind enough to take his hand and take him to see Y/N.

Taking revenge on the other mortals, he waited for the moment when Morpheus would come. He didn't really want to be a nightmare anymore. He only wanted to be Cori.

[teecupangel]

I had an idea for an Altaïr that accepted Al Mualim’s teachings and became his true successor after he dies, basically keeping Masyaf the same after his death with the apple. What would happen if a reincarnated Desmond just appeared in Masyaf one day? I was thinking of Altdes but like super Yandere Altaïr

You wanna make it all the more morally questionable?

Altaïr finished what Al Mualim failed to do.

He managed to use the Apple to control everyone in Masyaf.

When Desmond is transported into the past, Altaïr had already gotten to Saladin and is slowly getting the men King Richard trusts the most under his command.

Desmond was reborn as a nobody in this land… is what he would like to say.

Unfortunately…

Or maybe fortunately?

He was reborn as Jalāl al-D��n Ḥasan III, the only son of imam of Alamut.

Meaning he’s 22 years old younger than Altaïr…

He was kept in the harem as a child and it was hard to run away from an entire castle filled with Assassins who knew their little prince liked to run away.

He had only met Altaïr once when he was growing up, being able to take peek even after his father ordered him to stay in his room while the mentor of Masyaf was visiting.

He had been sixteen years old.

And Altaïr looked just as handsome as he remembered.

Their eyes met and there was something in his eyes that made Desmond feel… something.

Something both enticing and… dangerous.

One of the Assassins saw him and escorted him back to his room before his father found out.

The following day, his father asked for him and he had been worried that he learned of Desmond sneaking in last night.

Instead, he ordered Desmond to show Altaïr around Alamut which he agreed easily to.

Altaïr’s stay in Alamut was short and Desmond savored every moment of it. He was a bit different from Desmond’s image of him.

More open in his curiosity of Alamut and…

Of Desmond himself.

He knew that Altaïr already had two sons by now.

But Altaïr laughed when Desmond asked about his wife.

He didn’t have a wife.

Desmond thought he was joking.

So Altaïr explained…

His sons’ mother was not married to him. She did him a ‘favor’. In exchange, he ‘assisted’ her in taking over the Templar Order. It’’s because of their ‘trade’ that Altaïr was able to secure an alliance with the newly reformed Templar Order.

Something was wrong.

Desmond has no idea why the timeline was this skewered. He sure as hell knew it wasn’t him.

It couldn’t be him.

He had been too young when Altaïr became a mentor to do anything even when he wanted to.

So he had to find out what happened to change the ‘past’ this much.

And the fact that he knew that there was something between them, something simmering under the surface with each graze of the back of their hands, of each brief touch on the arm, the shoulder, and back…

There was something between them that Desmond knew he was powerless to stop.

He didn’t want to stop.

So he asked his father if he could stay in Masyaf for a while, be some kind liaison or something.

He had been surprised when his father said yes.

He should have questioned it.

Instead…

He was just glad that he could stay with Altaïr longer.

.

[Why are you bringing that child?]

“Jealous?”

[You do not need that child.]

“He’s not a child, is he? He doesn’t feel like one.”

[He knows nothing.]

“No one does. Only we know how this past must become to pave way to a better future. Is he not part of your Calculations?”

[He is inconsequential.]

“Then it doesn’t matter if I have him then if that’s true.”

[…]

“He sounds a lot like you. But he’s more… not innocent. No. That’s not the right word… ‘mortal’.”

[Altaïr, do not forget your pact with me.]

“I prefer to call it our vows but what do I know? I am but the first of your many, aren’t I? But he… he’s mine and mine alone.”

[Do not let him distract you.]

“When have I ever failed you? I know what he is. I can see it in his glow. He’s like you… he is you, isn’t he?”

[…]

“Is he my reward for being your loyal puppet king, my dear Reader? Or is he an anomaly I can do as I please?”

[… do as you wish but do not forget who you belong to, Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad.]

“I belong to you but you do not belong to me. But he… Desmond. He will be mine.”

Altaïr stared at the Apple on his table.

The Apple glowed dimly.

[Fine. Do as you wish.]

“I will.” Altaïr tapped the Apple, letting it roll an inch away from him, “Relax, my dear Reader. Aren’t you curious?”

“Who decided to place your human self here in our fixed past?”

[cuffmeinblack]

Hi~ is it okay if I request a Fluffy oneshot of Ominis gaunt x fem Hufflepuff Mc?

Like she’s generally a very soft spoken girl (tho she got sass for days) and maybe Ominis stumbles upon her while she’s singing “Secret Garden- Sleepsong” in the undercroft, because it’s a family lullaby and she’s feeling a little homesick.. (Post good ending, Sebs spending the weekend with Anne & his uncle)

He’s so entranced by her singing.. he ends up making notes on when she seems to go down there to sing, just so he can listen to her.. (also he’s a bit nervous about letting her know, that he knows she can sing. So he’s done all this in secret.)

And maybe sometime later a mean-girl group from the frog choir corners MC, talking shit about how she probably has a trashy voice or something.. Ominis ain’t having that!!

He just blurts out that ACTUALLY she has the voice of a GODDESS!! and they aren’t even worthy enough to listen to a Dogbog snor!

Maybe MC’s a little confident after his little stunt so she gets super flirty~

Seb’s gonna be so confused when he gets back to an unusually flirtatious MC constantly making moves on a VERY flustered Ominis.. 👀 but he’s happy for them at least.. and won a LOT of Galions, but that’s beside the point!

Basically all cute shit.. Ominis deserves SO much Love.. 🥺

Two little words

Ominis Gaunt x f!reader

Tags: fluff | Hufflepuff reader

1k words

A/: Hello, thank for your request 🖤 I enjoyed writing this from Ominis' point of view. Hope you enjoy.

I'll sing you to sleep and I'll sing you tomorrow

Bless you with love for the road that you go

Ominis knew he wasn't alone as soon he stepped into the Undercroft—he immediately jumped back and pressed himself against the cold stone wall upon hearing the noise. Quite what made him hide, he wasn't sure, only that the moment he had stumbled upon seemed personal and intimate.

May you sail far to the far fields of fortune

With diamonds and pearls at your head and your feet

The voice could only belong to one person, the only other one who knew about the Undercroft besides himself and Sebastian. She sang with a gentle lilt, the melody was sombre and sweet and tinged with sadness. Ominis knew he should either make his presence known or leave, the longer he left it the more awkward his discovery would become, but he found himself unable to move, partially from fear but a greater desire to hear her sing more.

And may you need never to banish misfortune

May you find kindness in all that you meet

The sweet song stopped suddenly and Ominis' gut twisted uncomfortably when he realised why—she was crying. Her breath hitched and she tried to stifle the sobs, breathing deeply and sniffing through her nose. Ominis felt intensely guilty for intruding—he didn't think she would appreciate the intrusion, even though he wanted to comfort her, she had clearly come here for solitude. Regretfully, he felt his way along the wall and back out of the door.

Ominis knew she often roamed the castle or fled into the forest or Hogsmeade, she was hard to keep track of, but he started to notice a pattern to her behaviour. She would receive an owl from her parents every Monday, and that evening she would disappear, walking through the central hall and sneaking off to the Undercroft. The second time he found her, he had intended to confront her and offer his support, but once again found himself distracted and enchanted by her sweet voice. He knew she wouldn't willingly sing in front of him, and he so wanted to listen.

She sang a different song every time he visited, though it was often a sad and slow tune. Ominis thought she must miss her home terribly and wondered about her life away from Hogwarts—a shy and intensely private person, much like Ominis, she didn't often mention her personal life, preferring to devote her conversations to her studies and friends' lives. Every time he heard her sing, standing in the shadows, his heart raced and on more than one occasion he felt wet hot tears sliding down his face.

All good things must come to an end, and for Ominis that was on a Tuesday afternoon a month after he had first heard her sing. He walked across the courtyard on his way to Herbology, his wand held aloft and listening to the chatter surrounding him. His ears heard her voice, now so familiar and comforting, though it was full of hurt and anger.

"There's no need to be so horrible."

"We're just giving you some criticism, if you can't take it then you shouldn't be singing at all," a second voice rang, ugly and rough in comparison.

Ominis followed the conversation.

"Telling me I sound like a banshee isn't criticism, it's needlessly mean. I don't know what your problem is," she said, her voice breaking at the end of the sentence.

More voices, cruelly laughing. The second voice chimed in again.

"Just give up, you'll never make the choir with your voice."

Ominis leaned against the pillar of an archway, his hands shaking in anger.

"I happen to think she has the voice of an angel, and we can all agree I have much better taste than you," he drawled.

He heard a shuffle as the group found the source of the insult.

"Nobody asked you, Gaunt," the ugly voice said.

"I spend my life listening, and let me tell you that she would be the best thing to happen to your pathetic little choir."

The silence that greeted his retort let him knew he had won the exchange. Several huffs were expelled and he heard the sound of footsteps retreating. Her sweet voice filled his ears, asking a question he didn't want to answer.

"Thank you, Ominis. When have you ever heard me sing?"

Ominis blushed, trying to find words that wouldn't anger or embarrass her.

"I have to confess, I found myself listening as you sang in the Undercroft. I apologise for not showing myself, I should have."

"I thought you must have. Next time…tell me when you're there?" she replied.

"Next time?"

"If you want. I'll see you later, Ominis."

The response surprised him, and he spent the next few hours utterly distracted from his lessons, turning the conversation and his memories of the Undercroft over in his mind. Was it an invitation? Should he turn up next week? He wanted to more than anything, but he worried he had somehow misinterpreted her interest.

That doubt was put to rest by the time he reached the great hall that evening. He followed Sebastian to their usual seat, where she sat waiting. Some of the Slytherins despised that a Hufflepuff often sat at their house table for meals, but they didn't comment anymore lest they find themselves on the receiving end of Ominis' ruthless sharp-witted insults, or the end of Sebastian's wand.

"Hello, you two. Good afternoon?"

"Fantastic, blew myself up in Potions," Sebastian said sarcastically, "You?"

"Not bad, it got better after I saw you, Ominis."

Ominis blushed, the heat rising in his cheeks, smiling bashfully as Sebastian started choking next to him.

"I'm glad. I'm sorry they were so awful," Ominis replied, ignoring the coughing coming from his friend.

"My hero," she said in a breathy voice.

Yes, Ominis often found himself thinking about her singing but those two little words might have been the the most beautiful he had ever heard.

[estelofrivendell]

You’ve Got A Friend In Me (Aragorn x Female Reader)

a/n: clara actually posting a one shot??? shocker, right? anyway, i started this months ago and only finished it now. it’s not really x reader, but oh well. also, there may or may not be inspiration taken from to kill a mockingbird. i won’t elaborate and you will see it when you see it. i don’t really see this as a part three of “a change of heart” but you can if you want to. also, don’t question the toy storyesque title.

summary: you’re convicted of a crime you actually didn’t do and all the odds are against you because of your reputation. aragorn is the only one to believe you are innocent and does what he can to help you get cleared of all charges.

word count: 2,1k

warnings: none really other than mentions of murder

During your first meeting, Aragorn prayed to whatever God was up there to have you locked up for your crimes sooner or later. He never thought it would actually happen considering how lousy the whole system was. Yet the wishes he no longer held were answered, which he thought was only done to spite him. When news of the lords declaring you a fugitive, he prayed you would be guided into safety and away from the authorities before asking why they wanted you.

“Do you need to ask?” A considerably young ranger laughed. “That woman is a menace. It was about time those poor souls were brought to justice, and this is long overdue.”

Aragorn growled. “That does not answer my question.”

The young ranger laughed once more, holding up his arms. “Calm down. They say she murdered one of those great lords in cold blood. Witnesses saw her near the castle when all the mess was going on. Can you believe it?”

No, I do not. She would never do that, not anymore.

Finding you wasn’t so difficult anymore. You were a slippery little snake that it took Aragorn a while to master the task of locating you. Today felt strangely easier than it was and he wondered if that was deliberate and you had been hoping he would find you.

You sure did not expect his visit as you aimed your knife at him, the tip close enough to his chin that it made a small cut, but you lowered it the moment you realised who it really was.

“Aragorn? What brings you here?”

“I believe you know what brought me here. Did you do it?”

“Kill the lord? No, though I would love that honour. I cannot tell you I am entirely innocent in this matter.”

You didn’t change entirely, you see. You still took payments (especially when the money came from a high bidder) and you were more than happy to carry out the execution of the worst of men, and the lord was no kind man. He was someone no one wanted to be around and Aragorn didn’t need to be told that you would love to kill him, yet he felt it in him that if you were going to be arrested for any crime, this was not it.

“Well, it doesn’t matter anymore,” you said, turning away from him. “You need to get out of here. I don’t want you seen with me and I most certainly don’t want you to be involved in my problems, so do yourself a favour and save your sorry self from a conviction.”

Aragorn raised a brow. “You involve yourself in my affairs, why can I not do the same?”

You shot him a glare. “That is different, I was helping you. And if-”

“You don’t think I’m helping you? I’m telling you I believe you’re innocent, and no matter what you say to make yourself look bad, I’ll find a way to make sure you’re not tried for anything.”

“Then run away with me.” You offered your hand. “A life in the forests away from the city sounds nice. It’s what I always dreamed of as a young girl.”

If he wasn’t destined for something so big, he would not hesitate to take up your offer. Even then, he imagined a life with you and he believed it to be so cozy and perfect. He was no stranger to waking up beside you and he longed for your company that getting to do it every morning sounded like a utopia.

“I… cannot.”

“Why not? You have nothing going for you. Just the same old rangering, nearly getting yourself killed while the people you protect don’t thank you for your service. Would you prefer a life with me, where we have all the freedom we can get? We can explore the world together, unbounded by expectations and obligations.”

“I may not like what I do, but it is still my duty to protect the men of Bree.”

Hurt, you turned away from him and left. “Well, you made your choice and I have made mine. I am sorry they are incompatible, but there is no use to convince you. I wish you all the luck if there is any left.”

-

Each day, Aragorn misses you, but does not regret not following you. He would kill for you, but he would not pick you over the crown. It was the heaviest price he ever paid in his life and he is sure nothing else can compare.

Over time, his life is the same as it was before he met you. Hunt orcs, occasionally meet Gandalf, return to Rivendell, eat and sleep. Rinse and repeat.

It had been three months, shy of Midsummer when he heard about your whereabouts. Expecting neutral at worst news, he ensured to look like he was not paying attention and almost lost his train of thought when they started to go into more detail.

“Word has it that the woman thought to murder the lord had been found by authorities just last week. She put up a good fight, killing the guards and escaped the first time, but they caught her this time, not without issue though. She’s been brought back here for a trial.”

“Here? Why?” A young man asked, stupidly.

“Because this is where the murder happened,” said the man calmly. “I’m more surprised she’s getting a trial in the first place. Murderers like her deserve a lifetime sentence, plus 150 years, without the possibility of bail. In fact, the guillotine will do.”

A young woman around the same age as you spoke up. “There’s no way she’s getting a sentence lower than that. I mean, she steals a lot, and that’s not worth a death sentence in my book, and all those conspiracy murders everyone spoke of had no evidence, but this one did.”

“So, when is the trial?” The young woman asked.

“In two months time, assuming no delays.”

-

After a lot of difficult convincing on his end, side eyes he received, and suspicion that he was someone to not be trusted, Aragorn received the location of the maximum security prison and the specific cell you were held at. The guards asked him a lot of questions before letting him see you, let alone giving you privacy. 

When you saw him, you shot up and clenched your hands around the bars. A friendly face was long overdue. “It’s over, Strider. No point in making me feel better. I lost the moment they found me and there’s no turning back.”

“Don’t say that. Have some faith in yourself. I know you didn’t do it-“

“And do you have proof for that? God, I’m grateful to have you, and I’m grateful that you believe I didn’t do it, but you’re a delusional man. Go home. Find a woman to fuck, marry and have babies with. Forget about me. You’re smarter than this.”

“I know many people that can help you. I’ve been looking around and speaking to them, and they agreed to look into it. Some of them have been given permission to investigate.”

“Strider.” Only until now did you start crying, and Aragorn never saw you cry. He thought you crying was something he never thought he would see. “Stop that. You don’t have to do that.”

“What friend would I be?”

“You’re risking your own life for me.” You sobbed. “I don’t want you to jeopardise your own life to save mine. Please, stop this, go home. You have nothing to do with this.”

Suddenly, the door opened and two guards roughly grabbed Aragorn and pulled him away. “Time’s up,” one of them gruffly said to him as you mouthed “don’t resist.” He reluctantly listened. He was a lot stronger than everyone here combined and could knock them out in one hit, but if he wanted to finish his plan of ensuring you were proven innocent, beating up the guards was not the way to do it.

Once he was thrown out of the prison, he looked at the architecture and noted how miserable it was. He could tell you were losing your mind each passing minute and only hoped that you would recover as soon as you were released.

-

One of the people he paid to investigate the lord’s death had summoned him to a private place at night. 

“I think you need to hear this. Last night, we went over the body and we discovered enormous hand marks on the victim’s neck and marks on his right eye. The hand prints are too big to belong to a woman and the injuries on his eye could mean a left-handed man did it.”

Aragorn has met women with quite large hands, but the news only confirmed that you didn’t kill him, as he was aware you had small hands. You were also indeed right handed.

“With this proof in mind, it’s hard for me to believe she did it. I don’t know who did it, but I don’t believe it’s her.”

-

Aragorn snuck his way in your trial and watched from above, making sure to keep discreet. After the introduction and overview of your charges, and people fighting it out with you remaining silent, you were suddenly asked a question that piqued his interest.

“Can you read and write?”

“Yes, I can.”

Everyone present stared at each other, muttering amongst each other, shocked that a woman who was most certainly not noble and was uneducated knew how to read and write.

You were asked to write out what the judge said, word by word with both hands. The most eloquent speech with advanced words yet you had no struggle writing them down, with your right hand, confusing everyone.

The man that asked you to write remained calm the entire time, as if he was unsurprised, startling you a bit.

“You see, the woman here wrote with her right hand, with perfect handwriting, while her writing with her left hand is nearly illegible. This could only mean she is right handed. The lord was discovered with bruises on the right side of his face, which if we assume she is the murderer, would be probable if she is left-handed. But she is not.”

“Secondly, there were big handprints around the lord’s neck. The woman here has quite small hands. A woman’s strength could only do so much to try and choke a man let alone with small hands.”

The trial went on and on, but came to an end, a good one, since you were cleared of your charges. Due to the everyone’s shock and confusion, and how the evidence countered their expectations, no one cheered nor jeered at the decision. It was dead silent and everyone left without uttering a single word.

Aragorn only smiled to himself, but his smile fell when you ignored him.

-

And life in Bree went on.

Everyone spent a week talking about how they had wrong thoughts of you, while others were still convinced you didn’t do it. A couple others just didn’t care and were annoyed to even hear about you. But after a week, the chatter all died down and everyone minded their own business, unless it was something about their married neighbor beginning an affair with another woman. 

Aragorn found you at your place, cleaning your home with a lot of things packed.

“Going somewhere?”

“Finishing what I did not get to,” you said, not looking at him. “Why are you here?”

“I wanted to see if you are well.”

“I am… well, I suppose. I’m not in a shitty cell with a similar embodiment to hell anymore.”

“I don’t expect a thanks or-”

“Thank you,” you suddenly said, finally facing him. “I’m sorry for doubting you. I really did think it was over for me.”

“I don’t blame you for doubting me, but I am your friend. You helped me before and it’s about time I returned the favour.”

“I am still going away for a while. I do not think I want to come back to Bree after a short time with everything that has happened. I understand you do not want to come with me, but I will come back, I promise.”

“About that. I think I decided that I do want to travel with you. It’s that this time, we’re not running away from something terrible.”

You ran towards him to give him a hug, perhaps the biggest hug he ever had in his life, and he heard you start to cry again. This time, you were not crying out of desperation.

No, you were crying of happiness. Happiness because you get to travel around the world with your favourite person, and the only person in your life left that mattered.

[bumblesimagines]

When Fire Meets Fate

Part 4

Request: Yes or No

The pacing in this series is killing me istg

~~~

The flames seemed to flicker at every movement, hot wax pooling at the bottom of the candles and mixing with the hardened wax spread across the table. The smell of smoke and incense filled his nostrils, an overwhelming smell that only brought memories he'd rather keep buried. (Y/N) reached out, fingers hovering over the flames. They licked at his skin, heating the metal of his rings and burning his flesh. He only pulled away to avoid marking himself. 

"It's been a while since I last saw you here, (Y/N)." Alicents' soft voice reached his ears, feeling her hand touch his shoulder. "Have you come to speak with Mother?" She asked, turning to look down at the candles, the orange of the flames making her olive skin glow. It was often Alicent who found herself at the Sept, whether praying for someone or silently speaking to their mother. But as her time as Queen grew longer, her visits grew shorter. Yet, like her love for their father, her faith never wavered.

"You should be resting, Alicent." (Y/N)s' gaze dropped to her belly, or rather lack of. As per the maesters' prediction, Alicent had entered her labors and successfully bore a daughter just two months prior. A little girl with silver curls named Helaena. She'd come without any fuss or hassle, apart from the typical pains of labor, and she'd proven to be easier to care for than Aegon, although she protested when held for long periods. Naturally, Alicents' body still needed rest to recover, especially since she'd no doubt be carrying another in months time. (Y/N) could only hope the ones that followed were as easy to manage as his newest niece.

"I only wished to see you," Alicent murmured, running her hand over her clothed belly and dropping her gaze to the floor. After spending so much time pregnant, (Y/N) could tell missed the feeling of a babe within her. "But perhaps, you can escort me back?" She asked and smiled when her brother offered his arm for her to take. She linked her arm with his, tilting her head to rest it against his arm. Clergies murmured their greetings and bowed their heads, blessing them with health and happiness as they walked past. The carriage awaited them and (Y/N) helped his sister climb inside, watching her plop down on the soft red cushion. She released a sigh of relief and leaned back into the pillows, legs slumping. Alicent smiled tiredly and tucked a strand of her brown hair behind her ear. 

"You mustn't push yourself." (Y/N) reminded, sitting across from her as the carriage began to move, taking them back to the castle. "The maesters said-"

"Yes, I know. It's just..." Alicent trailed off, nails scraping against the back of her hand. "Lonesome." She finished quietly, rubbing her thumb between her fingers, nails threatening to pick at the skin around it. "You must feel the same with Rhaenyra away on her tour." She forced a smile for him, tearing her eyes away from her hands to look at him.

"I'm sure in due time, you'll find yourself surrounded by good company."

"Perhaps with some nieces and nephews." 

"You have some already, Alicent. If you wish to see them-"

"You know what I mean." Alicent pushed herself up to sit straighter, lifting her brows. "I know you prefer Helaena over Aegon but I can assure you that Aegon brings nothing but joy. Children are a blessing." (Y/N) hummed. He'd heard Aegons' last hissy fit had lasted more than an hour. The little Targaryen had been passed around from maid to wet nurse to Alicent without any sign of stopping his tantrum. (Y/N) had steered clear of the hallway leading to the room, for even just hearing the distant crying and screeching sent a wave of irritation through his body. But he remained silent. He knew better than speaking ill of a child in the face of their mother. "Once you pick a bride, you can have a brood of your own. In fact, I know some ladies-"

"I know I will have to eventually marry and have enough children to satisfy the families my bride and I were born into. But now, I wish to spend my time enjoying the peace before it's disrupted by a wife and screaming babes." (Y/N) interrupted her, speaking gently. His sister pursed her lips, sighing softly.

"You know I only wish the best for you." 

"I know." (Y/N) responded softly, feeling the carriage slow to a stop. A guard pulled the carriage door open and offered his hand which Alicent graciously took, carefully stepping down and smiling apologetically at the maids as they rushed to her side, fretting and lightly scolding her for leaving without a guard.

"We must get you prepared, Your Grace. It appears Prince Daemon has returned from the Stepstones!" One of the maids explained, ushering Alicent up the stairs. "King Viserys has called everyone to gather and witness the arrival of his brother."

"I should get going, then." (Y/N) spoke and his sister nodded, dismissing him with a wave of her hand. He ascended the stairs, heading down the hall and joining the crowd as they shuffled into the throne room, taking their places on either side of the room. (Y/N) weaved through the crowd, listening to the hushed whispering and muttering. Prince Daemon had been away for years with little support from his brother. One could only assume what he'd say or do. Fingers lightly grazed against his arm and before (Y/N) could turn his head to address the person, a chin rested upon his shoulder, and silver hair drooped over his shoulder. 

"You should've come with me," Rhaenyra whispered, smelling of sea salt and citrus. She fell back onto the heels of her feet and cheekily grinned at him, moving to stand by his side. She wore a long red dress with an equally long and thin black coat covering her. Appropriate clothing for a trip across the sea. She glanced in the direction of her father only to quickly look away, gnawing on her bottom lip.

"You're supposed to be on your tour, Rhaenyra. Or have you found a suitable husband?" Her brows raised and she gave him a knowing smirk. "One that isn't a Hightower, I mean."

"If you'd been there, you would've come back too." Rhaenyra raised her hand to toy with her necklace, the one her uncle had given before the passing of Queen Aemma. The red gemstone twinkled in the sunlight and drew his eyes to it. "One of the men spoke of my great-grandmother, (Y/N). He knew her. Why would I even dream of marrying a man older than my father?"

"Surely there were younger men."

"Ah, yes. There most certainly were! A child closer in age to Aegon than he was to me." Rhaenyra scoffed, finger rubbing over the gemstone. She opened her mouth to speak once more but fell silent along with the rest of the people gathered when Prince Daemon strutted into the room, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword and a makeshift crown placed on his head where his formally long hair had been cut short. Rhaenyras' fingers wrapped around (Y/N)s' wrist and she pulled him along, falling in step with her uncle as he walked further into the room. Prince Daemon never broke his stride until he reached the knights, lip curling when they drew their swords. He looked up at his brother and lifted the weapon he'd been carrying, lifting his brows slightly.

"Add it to the chair." The crowd erupted in low murmuring as the sword clattered against the smooth stone floor but King Viserys didn't take his eyes off his brother, and neither did Prince Daemon. 

"You wear a crown." King Viserys noted, a hint of amusement to his tone. "Do you also call yourself 'King'?" 

"Once we smashed the Triarchy, they named me 'King of the Narrow Sea.'" Prince Daemon responded and more murmuring spread. "But I know there is only one true king, Your Grace." He added and bent the knee, bowing his head. His actions brought on a perplexed look to Otto's face and he shared a glance with King Viserys.

"My crown and the Stepstones," Taking his crown off, Prince Daemon lifted his head. "Are yours." King Viserys lips formed a smile, albeit a confused one.

"Well, where is Lord Corlys?"

"He sailed home to Driftmark." His brother responded and King Viserys' brows furrowed.

"Who holds the Stepstones?" 

"The tides, the crabs, and 2,000 Triarchy corsairs staked to the sands to warn those who might follow." Prince Daemon answered cooly. King Viserys walked forward, a clang echoing through the room as the tip of his sword made contact with stone with each step he took. (Y/N) looked away from the brothers, watching his fathers' figure follow King Viserys from a distance. Otto broke focus to look back at him, gaze shifting downward. (Y/N) slipped his wrist out of Rhaenyras' hold and ignored the glance she sent his way instead looking forward only to notice Daemon already looking in his direction. The prince eyed him for a moment before returning his attention to King Viserys, watching him hand the crown off to Ser Harrold. 

"Rise." King Viserys ordered softly, eyes following Daemon as he stood. A beat of silence passed before King Viserys smiled fondly, patting the side of his brother's arm before resting his hand on his shoulder. The tension in the room dissipated when Daemon stepped forward, affectionately dropping his head down onto King Viserys shoulder. Those in the room began to clap at the display, despite their previous distrust of the prince.

With the brothers officially united, the crowd waited for the two to depart to the courtyard before dispersing, some following them and others leaving to attend to personal business. Rhaenyra strayed behind, intertwining her fingers. She undoubtedly knew she'd be chastised by her father for cutting her tour short two months early, especially after he'd given her the privilege of choosing who she wished to marry. And while Rhaenyra had the perfect husband in mind, it appeared he felt differently for her. Her eyes lingered on (Y/N), his relaxed figure tensing in the presence of his father. Ottos' gaze flickered to her and he tilted his chin up.

"Princess, I believe your presence will be wanted in the courtyard." He called. A subtle way of telling her to leave them be and so she hesitantly did, leaving the throne room and heading toward her bedchambers to change into something more comfortable. The servants helped her dress, taking her coat from her and setting a new dress on the bed. They held her hands, keeping her balanced as she slipped into the dress, adjusting it and making sure she looked presentable. Her shoes were put on for her and she brushed her hair on her own, taking one last glance at herself in the mirror before leaving the room and joining everyone in the courtyard. She made brief eye contact with her father, fingers rolling her ring back and forth around her skin. King Viserys broke eye contact first, a frown settling on his features. 

"You'll push your father into an early grave at this rate, Rhaenyra." Goosebumps ran down her arms when his familiar voice cooed teasingly in her ear. She looked back at (Y/N), chuckling softly when Otto passed them with a disapproving glance. 

"I could say the same for you." She replied, approaching the table and looking over the snacks that had been provided on such short notice. 

"Yes, well," Rhaenyras' breath hitched when she felt a hand on her lower back, (Y/N)s chest brushing against her arm as he leaned over to pick up two grapes from the gold platter. "Only one of us hopes it'll happen to their father." He pulled away from her, popping the grapes into his mouth, either oblivious or straight up ignoring her reaction to his actions.

"Otto surely cannot be as bad as you make him seem." Rhaenyra breathed, feeling a wave of hot wash over her face. She prayed it wouldn't be noticeable, fingers picking at some bread.

"Have you greeted your uncle yet? I'm sure you're still his favorite." (Y/N) smirked at her and she grunted softly, looking back toward her father and uncle. Alicent stood with them, smiling and nodding along to the conversation. (Y/N) watched Rhaenyra sigh and step away from the table, approaching the trio and being pointedly ignored by her father until she spoke. Even then, all she received was a glare. The amusement bubbling in (Y/N) died down when he noticed his sister speak, followed by the older men laughing together. Rhaenyra and King Viserys went back and forth before Rhaenyra stepped away, annoyance written all over her face. (Y/N) looked back at his sister and nodded his head toward Rhaenyra. A slimmer of hope sparkled in Alicents eyes and she excused herself from the men, following Rhaenyra and sitting down with her. 

"If they were to rekindle their friendship, there'd be no reason for you to refuse a marriage proposal," Otto muttered as he drew closer to his son, looking over the food and picking up a slice of bread.

"Rhaenyra will choose for herself, Father."

"You and I know very well King Viserys will ultimately have to choose for her." Clasping his hands behind his back, Otto glanced back at the brothers, warily watching Prince Daemon. "She's as stubborn as you are."

"I'm sure he'll choose wisely. Unlike some, he truly has his daughter's best interest in mind." (Y/N) turned toward his father, holding his icy stare. "But it seems King Viserys' is one of few fathers who care for their children. Rhaenyra is lucky her father doesn't view her as a puppet he can control whenever he feels like it."

Exhaling through his nose, Ottos' gaze fell to the cobbled ground. "It appears I've made you feel unloved in recent years. You should know I care-"

"You love me enough to involve me in your plans, but not enough to care for my happiness. That is what you've shown in recent years. I loved Mother because she loved me, cared for me, and showed me what a parent is supposed to be. You've only shown me the worst parts of fathers. I didn't need you then, and I certainly don't need you now." (Y/N) sneered, turning away from his father and feeling his gaze burn into his back as he exited the courtyard.

                    ✶        ✶       ✶       ✶       ✶       ✶

Slipping through the halls of the castle, Rhaenyra kept her pace swift and her feet light. Her head still felt woozy, reeling from what she'd seen and what she'd heard in the city. She'd witnessed a side she'd never expected from the very place she thought she'd known her whole life. Daemon had given her advice, encouraging her and even taking her to the Street of Silk. Watch carefully, he'd smirked, for when you finally convince that Hightower boy. Rhaenyra felt her ears heat at the thought, and yet she found herself going down the hall leading to his room. Only to find him walking toward the door, his guard nowhere in sight. 

"(Y/N)?" His head turned in her direction, brows furrowing at the sight of her. Rhaenyra quickened her pace and (Y/N)s' eyes swept over her attire, brows only furrowing further. 

"The hour's late, Rhaenyra. What are you doing up?"

"What are you doing up?" She shot back, taking note of the state of his disheveled clothes, and then she spotted the book in his hand. Her hands reached out and she snatched the book from him, pushing her back against his door and turning the handle, slipping inside before he could protest or stop her.

"I saw Lady Byrch reading this the other day." Rhaenyra whirled around, eyes narrowing. A twinge of jealousy shot through her veins but she swallowed it down, a playful smirk appearing on her face.

"I asked if she had a copy." (Y/N) answered, slowly shutting the door behind him to avoid making noise. "She did not."

"So...." The princess squinted, urging him to continue.

Licking his lips, he shrugged. "So, I borrowed it." (Y/N) stepped toward the princess, pausing when she stepped back in return. 

"That's it?" Rhaenyra pressed the book to her chest, fingers tightening around the edges of it. "You just... asked?"

"She might've said she needed convincing... It's quite a lovely book, you see." 

Rhaenyra raised her brows, slowly nodding. "Ah, convincing? Is that what you call you lords call it these days?" 

"Yes, Rhaenyra. Now, what were you up to at this hour?" (Y/N) asked, walking toward her, picking up his pace when Rhaenyra giggled and ran from him. She rounded a table and stopped at the other side, grinning slyly at him and drumming her fingers against the book to taunt him. The adrenaline from the events of the night pumped through her veins, keeping her alert and giddy.

"Daemon took me down to the city and showed me what it is like during this time of night." She explained, watching (Y/N) press his palms flat against the table as he studied her movements. 

"What's it like?" He asked, slowly moving around the table, the tips of his knuckles dragging across the surface. The moonlight illuminated them, providing enough light for them to keep an eye on each other.

"Lively." She breathed, following his movements until she reached the other side, taking his previous spot. "Especially the pleasure houses."

"Pleasure houses? Rhaenyra-"

"Nothing happened between Daemon and I." She assured him, blowing hair out of her face. She swallowed, finding her mouth and throat abnormally dry. "Have you ever been to one?"

"Gwayne took me once a few months after Mother passed. He claimed I needed to lighten up." He answered, darting around the table and narrowly catching her but she evaded him, leaping out of reaching and slapping a hand over her mouth to silence her laughter. However, with the lack of something keeping them apart, (Y/N) easily caught her by the waist, wrapping an arm around her and pulling the book out of her hands. Rhaenyra wiggled out of his grasp and spun around, attempting to snatch the book back but he held it out of reach. Her shoes smacked against the stone as she jumped, but her smaller structure prevented her from even getting close to the book. Using his forearm, (Y/N) pushed it against her collarbone, backing the princess up until her back pressed against the doors.

"Rhaenyra, it's late. If you wish to play games, you'll have to wait." (Y/N) exhaled, lifting his hand higher when she made another leap for the book. Rhaenyra puffed out her cheeks and (Y/N) snickered, the sound bringing a small smile to her face.

Shoving down any nervousness she had, she tilted her head. "I might need some convincing." She grinned and her skin warmed, arms slipping behind her back to grab the doorknobs, blocking him from accessing them. (Y/N)s' lips parted and an amused chuckle slipped past them, head shaking. 

"Rhaenyra-"

"Someone once told me you cannot live your life in fear, or you will forsake the best parts of it. You fear the throne, I see that now. But I can assure you, you will not become your father. When I become queen, I will send him far away and you'll never see him again. I promise you that." His eyes found hers and she held her breath, waiting for something, anything. She'd already been rejected once, she could handle it again. But she wished for a slimmer of hesitance. A sign he wanted her the same way she wanted him. He stared at her for a moment longer, lips pressing together to form a line. Rhaenyra bit the inside of her cheek, racking her mind for something else to say. But then, his face grew closer and their foreheads pressed together. 

"You are the most irritating princess I know." He muttered.

"I'm the only princess you know." She couldn't help but giggle, fingers releasing the doorknobs to grasp at the collar of his shirt. "And I find myself to be quite charming." 

"Quite stubborn."

"That too." She tilted her head slightly, gently bumping their noses together. She stared into his (E/C) eyes, her stomach twisted and turning. She could feel his breath on her skin, on her lips. So close... 

"The hour is late, Nyra." Her heart fluttered at the nickname and she rubbed the cloth of his shirt between her fingers. 

"If we were caught..." She trailed off, hands leaving his collar and instead resting on his shoulder. His arm fell from its spot against her collarbone, fingers instead brushing against her arm. 

"Our fathers would be furious. They know we're better than that." 

"Another time, then?" She asked and the corner of his lips twitched upward, pulling into a smirk. He lifted his hand, touching her cheek and rubbing his thumb back and forth over her warm skin. She leaned into his welcoming touch, eyes never leaving his until they fluttered shut when his lips pressed against hers. A fleeting kiss. A promise for something more if she were patient, if she played her cards right.

"Go, Nyra." He muttered, turning the doorknob. The deer creaked open and Rhaenyra glanced back into the hallway. "Go before I ruin the wedding night for your husband." Heat spread through her body and she stepped out of his room, finger running back and forth across her lips. She looked back at him one last time before heading down the hallway, the adrenaline now mixed with a new feeling.

But, the cause of her feelings felt differently. (Y/N) closed the door, fingers digging into the leather of the book. "Fuck," He hissed, tossing it to the side and hearing it slide across the room. He ran a hand through his hair, sitting down on the edge of his bed and resting his arms against his knees. Sneaking out, a stroll through the Street of Silk, a visit to a brothel. Being in his room at an hour no lady should've been up at. Daemon had resented Rhaenyra the moment she'd been named heir over him, but to possibly coax her into giving her virtue while unmarried? Perhaps he had no ill intent and he merely wished to vex his brother by encouraging his niece to pursue her own adventures, even if it meant risking being spotted by one of Otto's many spies. 

Sighing heavily, he kicked off his shoes, letting them scatter across the floor before he leaned back into the pillows. He stared up at the ceiling, teeth digging into his bottom lip. Otto swore his loyalty to King Viserys, but those who knew him knew he would only ever be loyal to himself. He had no regard for Rhaenyra. Squeezing his eyes shut, he prayed for the first time in ages to the gods above. If only they cared.

On the morrow, the doors to his bedchambers swung open. The young man flinched, eyes squinting through the sunlight pouring in from his window. His fathers' familiar figure greeted him and he dropped his head back on the pillows, practically smelling the irritation rolling off him. The doors closed behind his father, courtesy of (Y/N)s' nervous guard, and Otto cleared his throat.

"It is far too early-"

"Rhaenyra was spotted in the bowels of a pleasure den late in the evening, though I am sure you are aware of this." His fathers' tone had been laced with ice, eyes narrowing as he watched his son. (Y/N) swallowed and propped himself up onto his elbows, meeting his gaze before forcing out a huff.

"I've just woken up, Father. How could I possibly know of her whereabouts when I haven't even seen her?" (Y/N) tossed the blankets off to the side, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and rising from his spot. His father approached him in long strides, hand roughly grabbing the jaw of his son and forcing him to look at him.

"A servant." He spat. "A servant spotted Rhaenyra leaving your bedchambers in the hour of the owl, (Y/N)! If Daemon hadn't been seen taking her to that brothel, King Viserys would be demanding your head! You're a Hightower. You know better than to be this careless." Otto released him with enough force to make (Y/N) fall back onto the bed. (Y/N) rubbed his reddening skin, eyes focusing on the cracks on the floor as his father shakily sighed.

"Look what you've brought me to, (Y/N). If only you were like Alicent or Gwayne, none of this would've happened." Otto muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

"Nothing happened-"

"I don't wish to hear another word from your mouth unless it involves your compliance." Otto gritted his teeth. "You've missed your chance at being a king. You could've made this family proud for once in your life. King Viserys will be forced to wed his daughter to Ser Laenor of House Velaryon. You've disappointed me gravelly, (Y/N). It's time you begin acting like a Hightower."

[silver-dragonborn]

I have this Rhaena-centric fanfic idea where she decides to go on a little shopping spree in Spicetown but finds herself distracted by a book supplier and is so engrossed in the various books and scrolls that she doesn't return to Castle Driftmark on time. Team Black, who have visited Driftmark, notice that Rhaena's not at the dinner table. Worried for his betrothed, Lucerys leaves the table and heads toward her room. He knocks once, twice, three times, and even calls her name for good measure, but she doesn't answer. Lucerys slowly opens the door and peeks inside only to find her chambers empty and a few things gone. There's a deep misunderstanding and suddenly, the whole family thinks that Rhaena took the gold she'd been saving and ran away. The Blacks start panicking and nearly tear Castle Driftmark apart in their search for Rhaena before mounting their dragons, flying across the sea, searching ships, and ports, and frantically posting rewards for anyone who might have seen her.

While chaos ensues, Rhaena is happily continuing her little shopping spree and is in the process of buying new fabric to make a new cloak for Lucerys when one of the guards gets a clue and escorts her back to Castle Driftmark where she's being hugged and kissed by her family who acts as if she died and swear to do better by her. Poor Rhaena is just so confused, and everyone in the family has appointed themselves her personal bodyguard, growling at anyone who looks at her funny. They hover over her, practically riding her back

Poor Lucerys throws himself into training like never before and dedicates himself to his studies because he can't be Lord of Driftmark if his betrothed isn't safe. Joffrey clings to her and becomes her little shadow, wielding a wooden sword and poking anyone who dares to come near her without his say-so.

Rhaenyra attends every single one of Rhaena's lessons and then sweeps her away to join her for long walks on the beach where they search for beautiful seashells.

Jace hires a taste tester for Rhaena's meals and escorts her to her chambers during the night to make damn sure that she won't disappear in thin air.

Baela drags Rhaena with her to the training yard so that she can keep a close eye on her while she's practicing her archery (Rhaena is disgruntled but cheers whenever Baela makes a perfect bullseye).

Corlys gently takes Rhaena by the hand and shows her his ships or regales her with LONG tales of his adventures. Rhaenys reads dragon lore with her in the castle library and brushes her hair or has her try out Laena's old jewelry.

As for Daemon, Rhaena doesn't need a sworn shield anymore since the guards have proved themselves incompetent and has taken it upon himself to drag Rhaena with him EVERYWHERE. Oh, someone needs killing? Okay, but Rhaena is coming with me. He'll commission a twin murder hoodie for Rhaena and she accompanies him on another mission to have someone killed. In the mood for dragon riding? Daemon plops Rhaena in front of him on Caraxes and they enjoy a flight in the sky. Why are you sitting so far away? Sit right here next to me. Daemon makes sure that Rhaena sits riiiiight next to him during dinner.

[gakmaurepot]

My PCs on various saves~

Rambles below

Alice and Ellis are just alternate versions of the same person. But i'm thinking of making them twins or something.

Alice feels like she's an empty person. She acts the way she thinks others would want her to act, saying and doing things to get the best advantage out of the situation. All is about money in the end. She doesn't even spend it on anything for herself other than clothes, just to pay debt and fund construction eveywhere.

She has no hobbies, no dreams but to survive, no real life goals and is as dependant to robin as he is to her, although she's pretty sure she loves him the most, she sometimes silently resents him for the double payment, because she thinks he's not trying hard enough when she's out risking her life for him everyday. Also the way he more often than not won't stood up for her in dire situations like with bailey or whitney. I like my fluffy ship a bit bittersweet..

She does like being near sydney but is ashamed of her own behaviors she thinks are unholy, so she kept a distance from him. She fights whitney on sight. About kylar.. she is weak to pathetic people so she protects him from bullies every time yet.. he's kinda making it hard for her to defend his more freaky stuff, she knows of his stalking and arrow shooting but is somewhat happy for the protection and free money (?) She wanted to be protected once in a while because all these years she is the one doing the protecting, she's probably about to snap one day

She gets hurt a lot physically and mentally, so she frequently gets sent to the hospital. She hated going there, but she never learned to fix her bad habbits. Harper is fascinated and thinks of her like an adorable guinea pig, that likes to hiss and bite, or something.

She miserably yearns to be held normally by a parental figure. Her relationship with bailey, avery and morgan is the farthest thing from that, though. Still, she strangely upped her efforts sometimes solely for their validation.

Hawk thinks she's her wife and she just goes along with it. She visits her once a month. While Alice knew the hawk is not malicious, the situation is just too weird for her to process.

She never encountered the wolf or eden, for now. She gets the f out at the slightest bad feeling in the forest, this way she also almost never really confronted the wraith. (Habits of staying up all night) (they still hunt her though because of the necklace)

At first i gave her red eyes because rabbit but perhaps it has something to do with the wraith.

Recently i've started the farm quest so maybe i will add more lore.

I'm thinking she'd have a few outcomes at the end, happy end with robin where they killed bailey and escaped the town somehow, living normally somewhere not here. Happy? End with hawk where she never left the castle forever. Happy??? end with her settling in the assylum as harper's nurse. Bad? End with her just spirited away by the wraith and was never seen again, etc.

About my PC2, Odette, she is a bit older than Alice, she acts like her big sister figure. But one day she's just, gone, sold to the farm. Her hair turned white because of stress, She escaped at one point but never returned to the orphanage. Alice and everyone else thinks she's dead. She just lives at the home of a certain huntress... they're pretty happy together, maybe.

[kalembappe]

cry baby| e.h. 9

Part 2 is out!

word count: 8278

 

"You ruined it!" Your eyes looked big. Like how your head was. He thought about how much funnier it made you look, it looked like it would inflate and grow twice as bigger every second he ticked you off. She looks stupid

The young boy then stared at the ball that was set atop your creation. Or what remained of it.

"You should be happy that wasn't your head," The boy replies dismissively.

There was an audible silence in the air before you replied, "You won't even say sorry?" The pitch in your voice raised, turning higher with your fit of rage, eyes following the boy picking up the football. He smiles to himself while wiping the sand from it before flicking off a singular seashell with a huff. You watched, feeling a tremble on your bottom lip.

"It's just a tower, not big deal." He says, looking up from the ball in his hands with an unamused expression. Despite his broken English he manages to elicit so much anguish and rage in you. It was a small, stupid argument. You were a small stupid child.

Cry baby your mother would say. You should stop crying all the time about the littlest things. But you hate how you are when you get mad. You feel no relief from it. You can't shout loud enough to break your voice or punch something strong enough to make it disappear. So you cry because something comes out of it without you having to be violent. You try to bite back that wobble on your lip, but ultimately fail as you feel your eyes begin to water.

The boy's eyes went from slits to a wider version of his normal ones, "Why are you crying? " He heard a hiccup escape from you and a piece of his heart fell. "It's a CASTLE YOU SASQUATCH." You yelled with glossy eyes, the boy's widened with his head recoiling back. He didn't know what that word meant but he knew he should be offended.

"SASS-KWAT?!" In your fit of rage you missed the confusion in his also enraged tone. He squinted at the sun burning his eyes, it's a funny sight from afar. Two sunburnt kids arguing and yelling (despite it clearly being one sided, he's sure his memory never betrayed him).

"Haaland!" A familiar voice that made both your heads turn shot from afar. Jean, your brother walked down lazily, his feet leaving prints on the wet sand as he got closer. "How long does it take to grab a ball?"

"This child kept me here." He spat, forgetting that he was only 3 years older.

"What? Oh you met my sister." Jean turned to his friend, hands grabbing the soccer ball from Erling's distinctly bigger ones.

He must drink a lot of milk

Jean turned back to you after giving Erling your name, "C'est mon ami, il joue au foot aussi!"

You pull yourself up from the ground in you're sandy flip flops and wet hair. Your tears were suddenly the last thing on both your minds.

"Your name is Holland?" Erling couldn't have looked more confused. "You look like you ate the whole of Holland." You remarked, a smirk building on your face. Erling's jaw slacked, taken aback once again. You had a lot of insults for a six year-old. Just as he was about to throw a profanity at you, he heard who you assume is his mother, call him from a distance. She wasn't far, you could see her bright grin and her big sun hat from where you stood. Their family visits Nice every summer where they have a home, your brother said. You couldn't be less ecstatic about the news. But you smiled looking forward to most likely never having to interact with that brat any time soon. Sighing, you pick up the shell he flicked off from your sand castle, looking down at it in reminiscence. Jean walked over to you, seeing your melancholic expression. "Aww… Vous vous disputiez à cause de votre tourelle?"

You hid the shell behind in your fist, cheeks heating up. "IT'S A CASTLE." * Puberty has not been kind to you. Your skin was as sunburnt as it always gets, but your hormones aren't helping when you feel pimples appearing under your chin or your forehead. You're already moody self had just gotten more moody and to make matters worse, you got your first period on a beach. You sat in the restroom, head in your hands and stomach hunched on a toilet seat. You didn't know what to do. Your mom's not here to help you, you can't call Jean because he probably knows jack shit about monthlies or whatever this is, even if you're not sure.

"Hello?? I need to piss." OhmygodOhmygodOhmygod

You cursed anyone and everything. Surely, you didn't upset anyone (God) for this to happen. "Fuck off, I'm busy." You yelled, trying to keep your voice together as you started to feel dread wash over you. "Where do you think I should go?"

"There's an ocean outside. Find someone who got stung by a—fuck —sea urchin?" You hugged your stomach, silently groaning and trying to find relief while shifting positions on the toilet seat.

"Did you eat a lasagna?"

"What? No."

"Then I am lost." "This is none of your business, argh." You mask the groan as one of irritation for Erling, but it was remarked towards the ache in your stomach. Your hands found their way to your hair, clawing at it and pulling the front behind. Your breathing starts to feel uneven and your vision goes blurry. You hated this. You feel humiliated and disgusting. There was this boy you saw washing his sandals on a hose and he looked cute and you bought this black two piece because you thought you'd look good and you do but now you had your period and it ruined everything and don't know anything about it and you're already fourteen and why did Eve have to bite that fucking apple that made God so pressed- You heard a soft knock on the door.

"WHAT?!"

A sigh could be heard from behind the door. "Do you...want me to call my mom?" He heard the lock click from the door, eyes peering down at you. Your nose was as red as your eyes, you looked sick. He wanted to ask if you were okay, which you obviously weren't so he decided against it. But he mostly decided not to because he didn't really care, this was just a stomach bug probably but he couldn't shake that feeling that tugged in his chest.

The first time he felt it was that day on the beach he knocked your castle down. That face you made like you were about to burst like a dam and that pout you had on your lips made him uneasy. It's the same face you have on now only you didn't have that bad short haircut or that mean look on your face anymore. Your face grew softer and your lashes batted at anyone who looked into your eyes. He almost curses himself for thinking that of you. What he's trying to say, is that you grew into yourself. That's it.

He's quick to store the thought away in the back of his head. He needs to lock it in a box and throw the key in the ocean. At the end of the day, you are a loud, whiney, nosey, brat and despite your face turning less stupid with time, your intellect did not.

"Stop crying, you look stupid."

"Stop standing there and call your mom." Erling huffed as he turned around, you could see how his head bobbed as he mocked you. You didn't have enough energy to muster up another insult anyway, instead you rolled your eyes in silence.

You silently shut the door and walk towards the sink, looking up at the mirror you find that you were smiling to yourself.

  * "So can you pick me up? Please?" Your knee was jittering, and your chest heaved. The rain made it hard for you to leave so you sat in a cafe, your phone pressed against your ear, a finger deafening your left so you could hear properly on the other, asking your brother to get you out of there as soon as possible.

"Ange, I cannot do that, it's Mariella's last day here and I promised to take her out. I'm so sorry. Can you wait till five?" Your stomach sank. Cursing at yourself, you bump your head back on the wall of the booth you sat in. You completely forgot about Jean's girlfriend. He met her two summers ago. A nice lady, one from Italy. She cooks well and she's got a sense of humor. She's beautiful too. Maybe that's what you need to be so your date doesn't stand you up. To be perfect.

At this point your thought process was to burn every man you see on the stake and run away. It was embarrassing to get stood up but even worse that you have to call your brother to pick you up. Jean heard the deep sigh you let out, feeling nothing but pity in his stomach. At this point he even told his girlfriend what happened and the sound of her insisting that they both pick you up made it worse for you. It had gone silent from his side but that's when the waiter came to their table for their order and his eyes breezed over a photo of a lasagna. --

You counted the raindrops that fell on the window, looking out with your both hands curled into each other, sweaty and jittery. You used every distraction at your disposal. It's been almost a year since you last saw him. He spent his time with his dad last summer and you haven't spoken since. It was weird not having dinner with his family and having to be forced to socialize only for it to turn into a debate that makes you feel sour towards the end of night. But it was even more weird not having anything to argue about now since you both don't talk much outside of the bickering and glaring. You both itch to fill the silence but only know to communicate in a limited way, but you're both quiet, thinking of another way to spark anything without having to create a dumb argument to just talk. So you both sat with the silence filling the space between you. The air felt thick but you weren't obligated to telling anything to Erling about your life. Just like he didn't tell you he was leaving. You wouldn't say you were mad, you just expected at least something.

You were his friend, right? That sounds weird. What didn't help the tension was that you could feel him staring at the back of your head. Your hands held together tighter, a beat of silence passed. "We're friends right?" "What's his name?"

You both cut yourselves off, maybe you both had something to say. "what?" You muttered, a faint line appearing between your brows, finally gaining the courage to look at him.

"What do you mean ‘what’? " It was his turn to be confused, he shifted in the car seat, the leather squeaked while his eyes kept on the road. But that doesn't tell you why his grip on the wheel tightened.

"Never mind, it was a stupid question." You felt colder, the hair on your arms rose. You tucked your arms to your chest when the traffic lights turned red. Erling's eyes found the side of your face, he felt that pull on his chest. His head turned back towards the road and cleared his throat. "Crying again?"

 "I'm not in the mood for this."

"You're never in a good mood."

"What does that mean?"

"That means you're always mad around me."

  You look back at him who's still looking at the road. His jaw was fixed, and his hair was wet from a shower. "I'm sorry." You whisper, trying to keep your voice steady.

"It's just a boy. They're all immature." You wiped your nose,

"And What about you?"

"I'm the best so that doesn't apply."

"The best at losing your swimming trunks after diving?"

"I was a small kid."

"You were thirteen!" he looked back at you with a scrunched face, "And 5'7." You added.

"At least I hit my growth spurt, flatty."

"Oh, I'm flat? Did you miss the mirror on your way out the shower?"

"I don't show my goods to just anyone." Then something unexpected happened, you snort. The snort bubbled into a giggle and then to a laugh in a span of 5 seconds. Most of your laughs towards him were either sarcastic or mocking but this one threw him off. It threw him off so badly that he accidentally pressed the car honk, scaring the person who walked by in front of you. Both of you jolted then end up laughing harder. Out of amusement (but mostly embarrassment) Erling laughed with you. He hasn't heard anything like it. He stared at how your eyes looked brighter. He couldn't look away, watching from how your hair fell on your face to when you pushed it back. He was sure 5 years ago that he said you laughed like a horse (or maybe even looked like one if he was feeling creative). He tried to ignore that now it started to sound like bells. *

You hated family dinners. You didn't know anyone here and Jean was preoccupied with attending to Mariella. You watch them from where you sat, feeling a sense of longing and loneliness. You wondered what Erling would be doing right now. He's in Spain with his dad. It's been a couple months since you've seen him. His mother and sister decided to spend Christmas here, something about how there wouldn't be snow this year but the pissing down rain back home.

The restaurant wasn't loud but it wasn't quiet. You could hear the bustling of the staff members faintly, the light chatter of people not too far from your table, and of course the ladies chatting.

"So how's Erling doing? He's getting really serious with his soccer, I hear."

Maybe he's playing soccer with his friends, People he probably prefers over you. You stiffen when you realize that you hate that you hate the thought.

What are you doing?

Maybe it was boredom or there was someone gassing the air that night.

"He's been talking about this girl, actually." You hear your aunt and your dad react, probing questions and ensuing the conversation.

"Oh and she's really pretty." His sister adds, a mischievous glint in her eye appeared as she nudged her mother.

You grabbed the glass of wine that was placed a little farther to your left, it was already half empty but you're drinking it all anyways when your dad turned around. You bring your lips to the oversized goblet, gulping down the red liquid. This action however, was not missed by your brother.

"Allez-y doucement avec le vin." Jean says behind your right ear. You choke, coughing excessively. The whisper catches you off guard. You immediately flush, your whole face turning warm, hearing chuckles from the ladies and some people outside your table turning their heads at your direction.

"Êtes-vous bien?" Your aunt's patting your back. You cover your mouth with the back of your hand, clearing your throat and nodding, unable to say anything, wanting nothing more than to be swallowed by your chair.

After everyone settled down everything turned back to normal, except for you. In silence, your stomach twisted. As everything around you moved, you stilled.

What were you even thinking earlier? Or even worse, all this time? Feeding into your delusions again. You haven't seen him in a while and It's not like you even like him as a person. You don't know how you feel. No, you do know. You hate him. You always did, always will. You're convinced. At the end of the day, it's just a boy.

Your throat closed up but you swallowed back.

They're all immature anyway. *

You stood by the bleachers, cursing at the cold with your left foot tapping on the ground while you hugged yourself. Your dad was late, Jean said he'd pick him up. So you stood there in a loud, cold, and big arena. You were nervous. Why would you be nervous? You tucked your hand tighter under your arms, if you could dig a hole in your chest to stay warm for a few minutes, you would. This weather wasn't helping at all. How could players play in shorts and move without their muscled stiffening? That you will never understand. You cut yourself on your silent rambling. You knew why you were doing it the second you caught yourself saying more in your head than you normally do. You needed a distraction. Like instinct, your eyes scanned the field, it's hard not to miss him. The second you say that to yourself, you find him already staring at you. You look away immediately. He stood there with a black windbreaker and his hands were in its pockets. His hair was a bit longer than last time, a little over the brow but he− it looked good. You curse at yourself again. You always do when he's mentioned.

That fucking giraffe

You sat yourself down, ignoring the fact that he probably could still see you. You'd pull out your phone but your hands were too cold to move. After a short minute, your eyes slowly trail back to where you last saw him, and he's no longer there. You ignore the small flicker of disappointment you feel.

--

He's nervous. First game jitters, his dad likes to call them. His knee wouldn't quit jumping up and down in the locker room, he kept rubbing his hands together to warm them. Yes, it was cold but the air on the field is different from anywhere he's been. He walked in there, heart pumping and all smiles. He was ready.

What he wasn't ready for, was seeing you by the bleachers, with his parents no doubt but for now you stood between empty seats. You sported a jersey that was too big on you, arms crossed over you from where you stood. You always do that. Your cheeks were red and you looked like you were looking for someone. You're still an idiot, he thought to himself. You always get cold fast but you're wearing a shirt (hopefully pants too) and nothing else.

He felt his heart beat faster, Just nervous, he tells himself. But this time he wasn't sure of what.

Your eyes finally found him, your mouth opened but closed immediately. You turned around so fast that he nearly missed it with how he blinked.

He took note of how you sat down, trying to disappear from the crowd.

You really are dumb.

He blinked, looking at how you were on the second row. He hasn't seen you in nearly a month. He tried his best to avoid you. But he can't. It's probably because of your nagging loud voice that replays in his head. But when it's quiet, his mind drifts to the sound of your voice, your bad singing or your dumb laugh before he feels guilty for thinking of you at all.

He was about to walk away when the last note on the national anthem played. He was benched for the first parts of the game, the seats were under from where you sat, allowing him to set his focus on his debut game. He already forgot that part for a split second. From where he stood, it started to clear. People began to sit down, and the spaces around you began filling up. He let out a long sigh as he got closer, ready to store any thoughts including his best friend's sister in the back of his head till the night ended.

But all thoughts of that crumbled when he saw someone approach you. His whole body stilled at the sight. You stood up, welcoming this person, arms out ready to take an embrace. So you brought a friend? Big Deal.

His eye twitches. This gUy grabs you by the waist and lifts you slightly.

They must be close.

A kiss on his cheeks.

Very close.

Erling didn't know what he felt. He's used to feeling mad around you. Annoyed-mad, or angry-mad, now he doesn't know what kind of mad. He wanted to punch his face. This dude was the complete opposite of him. He had a bleached buzz cut. He decided he hates men who bleach their hair and have buzz cuts. He can't believe it. Not like you owed him to spill your life right now but there’s other people you could’ve gone for. Like with a guy with good hair for one-

"SIT DOWN" He hears someone from his team yell. Some of them laughed, but he didn't have time to feel embarrassed. He walked away with a scowl on his face, brows furrowed. He was mad.

--

"You played like you were mad!" Jean shouted, shaking Erling's shoulders as he pulled away from a hug. He's been overwhelmed with all the praise. Some people called it one of, if not, the greatest debuts in football. 2 goals in 23 minutes. This isn't new ground for Erling though. The praise, he means. He's had his share of it his entire life but never at this rate. He was worried about today, he felt unfit from not playing for a while but all of that washed away when he heard the sea of people scream for him. At first, he was so preoccupied with what other insults he could come up with for a guy that he hasn't even met that he ended up scoring a goal in the process.

He wasn't even looking at the net, it was just him and the ball and the occasional thought of "you know what he looks like?" But when he did score, the yelling of the crowd got louder and that was the only thing that mattered from then on until he saw you there too, screaming with that potty mouth of yours when the referee called a penalty. For a second he'd forget why he was mad and almost broke his expression from how serious you looked up there.

His team was celebrating after a family dinner, he decided to drag Jean in, who could not decline and out of "kindness" he invited you and your friend. But your friend politely declined, and with a kiss on both his cheeks, he left. Erling felt his teeth clench and his jaw tick, turning around with a silent roll in his eyes as he walks toward the faint sound of music not far from where you just ate dinner, while the boys walked towards the bar, you got in your brother's car for a change of clothes you had for moments like this, not having it with the cold weather getting to you.

Erling waited outside until you came back then walked into the club, his head was above the sea of people he walked by, like a buoy in an ocean. You didn't have to push through too much, and this wasn't your first time in a club so you sort of knew what to do if you got set apart from the others. But it's not like you wanted to stay. You only did go because Jean has been suspicious of you ever since that night you had dinner for Christmas last year. If you refused to go with no valid reason, his suspicions would only grow and so would his ego, thinking he was right all along. BUT HE'S NOT. Obviously.

Jean joined Erling with the guys from the team but you didn't stay long with them, having no one to talk to and the only thing Erling had said to you that night or at least indirectly was introduce you to his teammates. You tap your brother's shoulder, shouting over the music that you'll get a drink and he seems to understand when he nods his head while talking to another person. You didn't know where some of the boys went, including Erling.

Unfortunately most of the guys that came had no girlfriends you could get acquainted with. The men seemed polite, no doubt, but you just didn't have it in you to try harder to relate in conversations with them.

So you sit by the bar with your phone, playing a word game until you see a glass place down on a coaster in front of you. The bartender smiles at you, says it was from that guy on the left booth. You could hear him, not loudly though, but you could read his lips perfectly. Instinctively, your head turns. You see someone already standing, walking towards you. This guy looked visibly older than you. He wore slacks with a belt the same amount as your salary and an open white dress shirt, his hair slicked, reeking of some strong cologne you'll have to rub off with coffee as he approached closer.

He introduced himself, giving your hand a light shake with a flash of his teeth that look brighter than they are under the colorful strobe of changing lights. From across you, Erling's smile disappeared from where he was once laughing with his friend, staring at your back as some guy with probably saggy balls shook your hand. He saw how his fingers lingered on your palm. His breathing got deeper and the alcohol in his system gave him enough courage to visibly disapprove of the sight unfolding at him. Don't you have a boyfriend? Or you're just throwing yourself around like a desperate-

"You good?" He heard from a friendly voice. With the scowl staying on his face, he downed another shot before replying, "Just something stupid."

--

It's 12:34 when you decide that you should call it a night. The guy that offered you a drink didn't last long, leaving as soon as you told him you had a paper due on Monday. You decided to text your brother instead of going to find him, too lazy to possibly get pressed in between people and their sweating bodies. You also remind him to congratulate Erling for you before grabbing your jacket and heading towards the exit, leaving your drink watery and untouched.

From what you expected to be an uneventful close to a night however, changes when you feel a grab on your wrist. You pause and shut your phone off, hoping that it was your brother but as soon the shadow behind you got closer and it still remained bigger, the beat of your heart began to raise.

He spun you around, pushing you against the wall of the club, his movement although slurred, firm. Your eyes widened.

We are in PUBLIC

Although there were people around they could care less about how this is happening in a club, save for the people who couldn't see because either they were vomiting in a bin or making out inside cars in the parking lot.

He points a finger in the air while trying to fix his stance, holding your shoulder for leverage. You were too nervous to speak, being the only one who hasn't drank anything between you both. You were stiff. Even if his eyes were shut, you could feel how his thumb was on your collarbone and palm rested between your neck and your shoulder. Unlike your hands, his were warm. You never had the chance to feel his hands on you, you relished in it , your knees almost giving out.

Erling peels his lids open, looking down on where his hand rested. His eyes trail from his hands to your neck and to your face. His lips parted slightly, it was if he was seeing you for the first time. He brought his hand down, brushing against your jacket. Under the yellow street light, your eyes seemed to shine and your lips looked dangerously pouty when you sucked in a breath from the cold, a cloud escaping in the air from your mouth.

He leaned in, with a different look in his eyes. He stared you down, his hands cupped your elbows as the space between you shrunk with each step he took, holding onto his forearms to stop him from falling on you. You could feel his hot breath on your cheek, shutting your eyes before he utters;

"Sidewalk rule."

Your eyes open and you immediately shove him off with a curse. You regret soon after his steps falter and you're forced to catch his weight. Your neck hurts, regretting that you had no alcohol in your system to have an excuse for "accidentally" throwing him on the road and having him run over by a moped. Maybe the sidewalk rule would have applied then.

"Oh my- Pull yourself together, Haaland." He's laughing now, finding your struggle amusing, his entire arm was over your shoulder, you grab it while trying to steady the giant. He was mumbling something you didn't understand, still snickering.

"Du ser så søt ut som sliter" he snorted, brushing your hair back when you reposition his arm on yours.

"You're a fucking 5 year old!" a stranger heard from the distance then spotted you two, longing in their eyes. *

It may have taken longer to drag him and pull him in the taxi than the drive back to your flat will take. You didn't know his address, nor did you know what the password to his phone is . So you did the inevitable and asked the driver to take you to your flat. Erling's head leaned on the window, pressed against it, mouth open while he slept. You'd take a photo of him, knowing that you likely wouldn’t see him like this again, but you’re much too occupied with the thoughts swirling in your head. You could feel yourself blush at the thought of his hands on your arms. Why was he there in the first place? He probably wanted a ride. But he knows you don’t have a car??

You shook your head, blowing a cold breath into the air. Again, DELUSIONAL. You’re nursing this thought and it’s becoming too big to leave unacknowledged. You feel Erling shift, brushing his hand on yours while turning his entire body away from the window. He groans from how heavy his head was as he feels the car swivel too far into a curve. His hand palmed his head, and laid down without a second thought. You gasp on the sudden weight on your thighs. You were frozen once again, unable to move a nerve while you stared straight ahead. His head bobbed a lot and you convince yourself it’s out of pity before reaching for him and laying your palm flat atop it forehead, then brush your fingers through his scalp. You smiled to yourself, treading it lightly, you wondered how he'd looked like if he grew his hair longer.

You come to an abrupt stop and pull your hand back as if you were burned. Erling had a blissful look on his face, unaware of anything he’d been putting you through. The taxi felt smaller and you wanted nothing more than to get out.

--

It was the same process dragging him into your apartment, excluding for the part where you had to slap his face lightly to wake him up, in which he overreacted . You look down at both your feet as you walk towards the path leading to the building you stayed in. You took your time, following which foot moved for Erling, too tired to shout which leg should go first knowing better than to add to the amount of struggle you should put yourself through. You feel his arm slip from your shoulder, so you grab onto his hand. Erling had been slurring about his game earlier, how he should’ve done something he didn’t during his play. You didn’t understand the terms like hat trick or save so you just hummed and agreed with everything he said, counting the steps you’re taking till you reach the elevator.

  “...but you look extra pissed when that referee waved the yellow card. So did that boy you brought.”

Confusion takes over your face as you turn your head to him. He was awfully close, you backed up before his cheek brushed against yours, turning back towards the path of your flat. You’re almost there.

  “What? Mathew?"

He doesn’t answer, he stays there quiet, shifting his weight to his other leg as you wait in the elevator. He no longer had his shoulder around you, instead your arm “carried” his back, just to keep him from falling backwards.

There’s a ding that reminds you to get out, relief starting to fill you as you walk towards your flat’s door before dread settles when you push it open. You stood there, not knowing what to do from here. Were you throwing him on your bed and just leaving? Where do you sleep? You could put him on the couch. Would he even fit?

Before you could think to answer a single question, Erling ran to your kitchen. You call him but he’s already opened the fridge.

His whole body folds when he inspects the contents of your chiller, normally you just duck down. He cranes his neck up to where you are, “Where’s the milk?”

  With a huff, you shut the door on his face, the refrigerator light disappearing with a snap. Just as he was about to protest, you cut him off. “I’ll get the milk just…don’t touch anything.”

He rolls his eyes, droopy as they were . His cheeks looked flushed, but not as flushed as they seemed to be earlier. He must be sobering a bit. Good. You let him wander around the flat knowing you’re spent trying to keep him in one place.

  After getting the glass of milk from the microwave, you check around where he's probably gone, switching the lights in the areas that had theirs off. You soon find him lying on your bed, hugging your pillow tightly, face pressed against the linen.

You grimace, seeing that he was sprawled out, taking most of the space. Guess you’re taking the couch. Sighing, you place down the warm milk on the bedside table beside Erling.

Just as you are about to walk out of your room, you hear Erling mutter in the silence.

“I miss you.”

Everything stopped, including you. The air grew thick, suddenly so did your tongue. You couldn’t speak and you could breathe. He’s obviously dreaming and talking. You try to stop your mind from thinking that he’s maybe— probably dreaming about her, but the thought still grazes your head. You ignore the small falter in the beat of your heart.

  “It’s late Haaland, you can talk to her in the morning.”

It take him a while to say anything but he does before you're given the chance to breathe. “But I wanna talk to her now.” There’s a sting in your eyes, and you curse yourself. He’s been testing you this entire night and this is the moment you might finally break. If you were driven into your brink, you might think he was doing this on purpose.

Your hold on the doorknob grew tighter. You swallow your pride, breath getting more shallow at every thought that settles in your stomach.

  And then, release.

“Then what am I supposed to do?” You yell. Turning only your head around, you see his eyes wide open in the dark, the only light coming from the city outside your window.

“Talk to me.” he replies calmly.

There’s a flicker of light in your chest you immediately blow out. Repeating to yourself; No not today. None of that.

“You’re tired, go to sleep.” “I miss you.” “Stop saying that.”

The lamp switched on, you see him now. He’s sat up mid argument, his hair’s a mess but now he’s a lot more conscious than you liked. “Then what am I supposed to do?” He echoes,

“How about you start by not mocking me.” “I’m running out of words here.”

You nearly laugh, even when he’s barely sober he’s a smart-ass. “Then think.”

There was a brief moment of silence, the air only filled with cars passing by the highway till they disappeared. It felt peaceful, for once.

  “You want me to think?“ The silence was short-lived. You half expected him to throw an insult, and half expected him to tell you to leave. What you didn’t expect is that he was able to walk himself out of bed in a straight line. A line straight towards you.

“You want me to think?” He repeated again only softer, standing from a short distance from you, but it shrunk by each step he took. Slow yet distinct. A step closer with every word. “Personally, I say I think too much. I sit and think too much and watch everything happen in front of me. I think I spend too much time thinking about what I’m going to say for a conversation that hasn’t happened. I’ve been thinking for years and still have nothing good enough to say. Fuck. It’s the same thing every night and I find something wrong in what I say. I never had words for anything at the right time and the one time you’re here, and I’m letting myself say something you tell me to think?” He stood in front of you now, and you don’t know whether to meet him where he stood or to push the door open behind you so you can disappear.

You’re drunk. You’re crazy. You’re stupid. You want to tell him, even shout it to the mountains but your body stands planted to the ground as he closes the distance between you, warm and tall like the waves back home. You close your eyes, hand finding the pace of his heart, a palm to his chest to create a space you both don’t want to be there but need.

“Please. Just for now,” A breath escapes from one of you, you feel his hand cup your jaw, tilting your head up. “Don’t make me think.”

His forehead touched yours, hands beginning to sneak your waist, pulling you closer to him. You didn’t know who leaned in first, who pushed or who tugged but your lips brushed lightly and that was enough to make you melt into each other.

  He leans down as you sink from the kiss, the hand on your back exploring the size of your waist. You felt yourself turn liquid in his hold, your arms wrapped around his neck, both wanting to feel closer but never feeling close enough. His hands find the back of your thighs, he squeezes it lightly and it makes you gasp, briefly pulling back from this kiss. He lets out a small laugh, his smile makes its way to your face. Erling hoists you up with ease before walking back to your bed, you don’t know how he’s able to keep you both on your feet as if he hadn’t struggled with his earlier.

  His touch starts to get more aggressive as soon as he lays you down, grabbing your hips, or sliding his thumbs up your waist till he feels them brush the underside of your breasts. You breathe into his mouth, nervous and unfamiliar with the touch yet craved it as if it was always meant to be there. Your hands clutch his hair, the pull eliciting a groan from the man. The sound sends ripples down your stomach and an embarrassing heat pools down your core. You feel his head dip lower, lips mouth at your jaw, sucking and nibbling at the expanse of your throat. His hands are wandering lower, it’s everywhere but it’s not enough to satiate you. That’s when you realize that his touch was there to linger, to tease. You squirm when his nose drags between the valley of your chest. You tilt his head up with a desperate look on your face. Your lips look swollen, and your hair stuck to the sides of your neck, your shirt rode up to your ribs. He wanted to remember you this way.

“You had so much to say earlier, baby.” His tone was smug and so was his face, you’d groan out of annoyance if you weren’t trying to coax him to feel you more. “You want me to touch you?" You nod, "I am already touching you.” His palm lands flat on your stomach, thumb brushing up and down.

You blush, your eyes shift to the ceiling, too ashamed to look at his eyes.

“What do you want me to do for you? Tell me.” He’s smiling even in his tone, and you hate how quickly you fold.

“Do anything.” With your eyes shut, trying to steady your breath, you didn’t see how his eyes darkened at the words.

  You’re glad you open your eyes when you feel him pry himself off you. He’s already peeling his shirt off him, and you try your hardest to stop yourself from crossing your thighs. The lamp had probably been tinkered with to work with his body. The v-line on his hips growing more inviting with each moment your stare longer. Erling helps you undress, taking his time to let his hands linger in the areas he’s yet to explore more later. His eyes oggle shamelessly, drinking you in with a thirst he only felt after getting his first taste.

His stare makes you anxious, you cross your arms over your chest, tucking it in. Erling couldn’t contain himself, his hands were everywhere once again, only hotter, on your skin. You’re flushed red, and press your lips on him to hide in shame. His fingers trace the seam of your underwear, it makes you squirm. He chuckled at how adorable you look, a desperate blushing mess, kissing your temple as he rubbed the dampening cloth between your thighs. A moan leaves your lips, and it catches you by surprise.

“Erling.... I’m not, I don't know-” Before you know it, everything stops. His hand is on your stomach and his head is off your neck, now staring at your face, a concerned look etched on his. “I haven’t…” You stammer over your words, unable to say it with a straight face. You groan, “Please don’t make me say it.”

There’s a brief moment where all is quiet, waiting till one or the other says anything to break the silence. Erling’s expression immediately shifts, turning soft as he watches you sink into the pillow. He can’t believe you’re letting him do this. Him out of everyone. “Do you wanna stop?” You shook your head.

“Just go easy on me.” A smile graces his lips, and he leans down to meet yours. Gentle and pliant. It’s more than words could say right now and it’s enough to get you to stay.

Erling pulls back the lace from under your legs, leaving a kiss on your knee before he sits back up. His hand presses your thighs against your stomach, his breath hot on your core. You didn’t expect him to act so quickly, leaving an open kiss on your clit. Erling mouths on the skin around and you nearly groan when he sucks on the center, tongue lapping again and again until your hips buckle before sinking into the duvet. Earling is groaning, drinking you up like water and he’s only been in a desert all his life. He sounds as if he was the one getting off from this, and silently he was too. He folds your legs up, hands gripping your ass, the grip drew bruises on your skin but you wanted more. Your voice breaks, a silent wail replacing it. Your body starts to feel less like yours and more like an instrument for your brother’s best friend. Just as you thought you couldn’t handle more, you feel his finger prodding at your slit. He remembers to go easy on you like you told him, so he laid your hips to rest back on the bed.

  It’s either Erling’s fingers are thick or you’re very tight. He spits square on your clit, and you jolt. His thumb spreads the spit around, teasing you. Your legs are flaccid when he adds another finger inside and begins to pump it in you. Your moan died in your throat, unable to think. The split second of silence is filled with his hard breathing and the sound of your wet core squelching around him, inviting him. His pace doesn't falter, reaching areas you didn’t know you had. He could feel how much tighter you got, cock swelling at the thought of how you could suck him in. You’re more vocal, more unsteady. Your thighs are trying to close but his leg is hooked over one, holding it open. He hears you let out a moan louder than normal but sees you're hiding your face behind your arms.

“Look at me, baby.” He stops completely. Your hands pry from your face, revealing the mess he’s made. He took your wrists in his hand, holding it against your chest. He’s painfully hard in his boxers watching your breasts squeeze.

  You’re fucking perfect.

  He pulls his fingers out, just as you were about to protest, Erling shuts you up with a rough kiss, so close that your teeth click. Releasing your hands from his grip, they immediately crawl to his hair. His kisses turn softer from your jaw to your neck, lingering on your throat when he pulls out his cock from his boxers. The tip flushed a bright pink, rubbing against your center and collecting slick. Erling leaves your neck with a wet pop, sparing a glance at the forming bruise before keeping his eyes on you.

  You wrap your arms around him, pulling him close, he mumbled something you couldn’t hear, or couldn’t bear to listen to, focused on holding your breath as he pushed in. The stretch is unfamiliar to your body, it stings but it doesn’t hurt, you need more. He’s a little less than halfway when you feel him leave a kiss on your cheek, whispering sweet nothings to your ear. He shamefully thought of this for so long. He wanted you for so long. Thought about you for so long and now he had you, he didn’t want to let go. He pulls back slightly, before pumping back in. Slowly, he’s setting a pace.

“Erling…” The sound of you whimpering his name finds a special place in his head. Always calling him by his last name ever since you were kids. You only ever did call him by his first name when you were mocking him, usually followed by his full name. But now, you weren’t kids. You were here, under him, and he was fucking ruining you.

  The bed creaks, and your short breaths turns into moans, echoing louder after every buck of his hips. You’re trying to find purchase on his arms, already on edge from a while ago. “I need…I’m close,” Unable to complete sentences just as you’re unable to form a single coherent thought.

  Your body writhed under him, glistening in sweat, you were close again. He made things worse by sneaking his hand between you two to thumb your clit. He groaned when he felt you clench around him, he curses to himself. The coil that’s been pulling on your stomach finally snaps, a sob escaping your lips. You babbled nonsense, you thighs shaking and sensitive, completely fucked out but Erling was relentless, like a machine. He bites his lip, his hair falling on his face. It took everything in him to not completely break you.

Your moan would break at times and it would just be a cry and the lewd sound of skin slapping. Erling felt his climax approaching, hips gaining much faster while you cursed at his tolerance. You went limp under him, not like you weren’t for the majority of the time. He did all the work, but now he was using you like a toy, holding your hips up and getting himself off. Erling lays you lower before he pulls out, his hand on his cock quickly jerking him. You used your remaining energy to shove his hand off, replacing it with your own, both hands working on the member and the tip. He thanked whatever made him tall enough to see you from this view. With a loud moan bubbling from his throat, he came on your stomach watching the white stripe reach the soft flesh of your breasts. You lay on the duvet, breathing heavily with his soft member laying on your abdomen.

  –

  There was the sound of a belt buckling. You woke up, feeling cold. As you sat up, you saw someone’s back facing you, they stopped moving.

“Erling?” You say above a whisper. He doesn’t turn around, he just stood still, hand on the doorknob. You ignore the feeling that loomed over you, remembering the events of last night. A blush creeps your face. “Are you leaving?” No response. “You could stay for breakfast. I don’t think you got to drink the-”

“I’m sorry about last night.”

He was fully dressed, the complete opposite of you. You clutch the sheets closer to your chest. The gray cloud over your head starts to shadow over yourself.

“What do you mean?” He stayed there, staring at the door, his body stiff but it didn’t slouch, it didn't look like he was turning around either. He couldn’t even look at you.

“I wasn’t thinking.”

[pocketramblr]

I'm still on a fairy tale kick! Please give me 5 headcanons for a Sleeping Beauty AU where All for One made up a story about his brother being cursed to prick his finger on a spinning wheel and die as an excuse to keep poor Yoichi locked up and isolated. Maybe he even faked an evil fairy incident. Thank you!

1- Yoichi loves fairy stories, always has, and the beautiful illustrations of them too. AfO has not, because when Yoichi is paying attention to the books, he isn't paying attention to him. When Yoichi asks him why he hates fairies so much, AfO says it's because they ruined Yoichi, cursed him. Gave him his tendency to be ill, and awkward, and that before his sixteenth birthday, he'd be pricked with a spindle and die.

2- Yoichi is pretty sure he made that up, but unluckily for him he's in the au where AfO gets to have a despotic boyking era, so when the prince asks about fairy stories the staff all nod along because he's sweet, and when AfO glares at them, they agree the curse happened. Every regent or advisor who's attempted to control the kid has ended up very dead, so everyone just kinda hope the boy grows out of it. And well, no one's exactly expecting Yoichi to live even to twenty anyway.

3- When the boys are thirteen, the carriage is attacked by someone jumping out of nowhere in a strange mask, holding out a spindle and lunging for Yoichi. AfO knocks them back and the fae flees. AfO announces it's clearly too dangerous for Yoichi to leave the castle grounds. When the boys are fourteen, Yoichi is enjoying the gardens and picking a flower when a lose spindle drops out of the bush, missing where his hand was by inches. He watches from the window as dozens more are found. AfO declares it too dangerous for Yoichi to go outside. When Yoichi is fifteen, something with glowing eyes half crawls through his window before being chased out, the spindle the only thing left. AfO moves Yoichi to a basement room with no windows.

4- Yoichi tolerates it for a time, before telling his brother that once they turn sixteen, this can end, he'll have beaten the curse. AfO remarks that he must have misheard- the curse was before his sixtieth birthday, not sixteenth. The next time that AfO visits, he finds Yoichi despondent, not reacting to anything, including him. AfO has to threaten to kill random servants and guards before Yoichi will eat, but he only speaks to ask to be released, and AfO finish the story. AfO always refuses.

5- eventually, the servants and guards have had enough. A maid flies into AfO's rooms one morning screeching that there are no guards downstairs anymore, only frogs in tiny suits of armor, and she couldn't find the one with the key to the prince's room. AfO races down with his key, the maid not following but slipping outside, and on opening the door finds Yoichi's bed empty. All that's on it is a spindle, wrapped in silvery hair, not thread, and a piece of paper with a drawing of Yoichi, eyes closed in sleep and wearing a crown of tiny golden spindles, with mirrored writing that says "Don't invite the fair neighbors where you don't want them to step."

+1- while AfO has his breakdown, Yoichi and every guard who'd worked down there is already smuggled out of the palace. For his own part, he's in a cart of straw, listening to Bruce complain that they should have saved a couple of the little suits of armor they'd all worked together to make for the frogs his cousin Hikage had helped collect, and Kudo telling him to stop complaining.