#speaking of airing grievances...

[kazehita]

when you go to click "show all" but you instead accidentally select one of the tags and are taken to the search page; you frantically hit the back button in vain, hoping beyond hope you will be taken to where you left off and feel the pure, drenching misery as it sends you to the top of your dash to posts you have already seen

[daniclaytcn]

personally, i think buddie should go canon for everyone except the people who badmouth kristen and call her homophobic

[crescentfool]

just put a one star review on the tumblr app 🤧

[transandor]

honestly i think capsize would get so heated she'd blame jordan for andor's wing thing (no one really brings that up) and she does regret it but she's also headstrong to the point where she doesn't apologize for saying it right then and there even when it clearly affects jordan and he just emotionally shuts down

[flowersandbirdsflyingfree]

And a Happy Festivus for the rest of us

[therealsirsticker]

uggggghhhhhh UGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH my fucking mom has been getting into goddamn ai art lately. And I can only offer my weakest and most casual points against it and only vaguely disapprove of it or else she’s gonna take it super way personally and we’d enter another Cold War argument and I am NOT dealing with another one of those. God, it makes me wanna chew my hands off. She’s so fucking annoying sometimes, I swear. No, I’m not going to coo and laugh at the shitty ai generated image of a cat in a pumpkin, I’m going to make my best casual discomforted sneer at it. And if I get into the actual problems with ai she’s going to get all defensive and refuse to admit she’s wrong. I don’t even think she’s done bad in using it! But she’s going to accuse me of thinking she’s a bad person for it! I know her! I REFUSE to just smile and nod though. I also refuse to get into another huge blow up cold fight with her again. So I will just continue to do my best casual discomforted sneer. God, I hate her sometimes.

[drdemonprince]

have you defined the meaning of “white woman brain” anywhere and if not, can you? /gen

Many Black and brown feminist writers have discussed this phenomenon and I encourage you to seek out a lot of writing about this subject, because there are a variety of perspectives, but to distill it, white woman fragility brain is a phenomenon that is not exclusive to either white people or to women, but is especially common among those who can weaponize white womanhood, and it consists of the following qualities:

A view of oneself as a helpless victim that is constantly in threat of being attacked, especially by strangers (even though statistically, this is not the case).

A refusal to consider oneself as capable of doing harm to others, especially a lack of consideration toward others' body autonomy or consent. (even while being highly concerned about one's own autonomy and consent).

A generally passive or passive-aggressive orientation toward the world: seeing oneself as a romantic or sexual object to be approached, but never wanting to initiate (or feeling that one never can), never feeling comfortable directly communicating displeasure or one's desires, believing that others instead must guess at it. (and then resenting people when they don't, but never expressing it).

A tendency to cry, excessively berate oneself, complain about being made to feel "unsafe," or give up when criticized or challenged, especially when challenged by people of color.

A tendency to associate a person's body type with how much of a threat they are. For example, feeling unsafe around people with penises and expecting a social space to accommodate that fear to cater to you, a fear of people who come from cultures where it's common to speak loudly, a fear of those who are large, assertive, and/or darker-skinned.

Instinctive fawning-type responses to stress, and a pattern of feigning happiness, agreeability, and ease when one is not genuinely feeling it, and expecting all other people (but especially other women) to feign happiness as well, paired with a deep-seated resentment of anyone who violates this illusion and expresses any negativity (being especially punitive toward women of color).

Instinctively "smoothing over" conflict between other people before it even begins, even when healthy conflict is necessary and not at all your business-- often performed by gossiping behind other people's backs, triangulating information when it is not yours to share, asking people to alter their behavior in order to avoid a reaction from somebody else, presenting your concerns as if they were somebody else's ("what will people think!"), tone-policing the airing of grievances, derailing hard conversations with more light-hearted topics, and excluding people who are known to be candid and assertive.

Here are some articles on elements of the phenomenon and why it is so dangerous:

Now, I single white cis women out a lot when I am describing this phenomenon, because they have the most to gain from exhibiting these qualities, but make no mistake: this is a pattern that many types of people can and do use. I have seen white trans women use white women's tears to silence critique. I have witnessed women of color being passive-aggressively derailed and silenced by a Black manager who was in a position of institutional power over them. Multiple of the women who sexually harassed me in the story linked above were not white. And LORD knows I see plenty of t boys falling back on this shit, as well as cis men from wealthy backgrounds. It's a mindset that has deep colonial roots and we all must be on the look out for it in ourselves and others, and we must be vigilant in uprooting it.

[tacticalprincess]

dad!könig has full on philosophical epiphanies while speaking german to his barely conscious, newborn baby :( the closest he gets to baby talk is softening his tone, something he can’t fight when met with the sight of her chubby, innocent face and large bright eyes, cradling her in his arms or hovering over her crib while he attempts to console her back to sleep at four in the morning. hes basically just talking to himself, but he likes to think his sweet little girl is somehow absorbing the more positive, concise things his half asleep brain musters up. showering her with compliments and crooning about everything ranging from her future to a g-rated retelling of one of his missions, his thick thumb soothing over her pudgy cheek or tummy. it’s his form of therapy, airing out all his grievances and contemplating life and getting nothing but the occasional coo or gargle in response. he always comes out of it more levelheaded than before.

[applejarjar]

If one more man I meet in this lifetime calls me shy I'm going to go straight genocidal

[thiswaycomessomethingwicked]

I always have some discomfort with Discworld, particularly the Watch Series, for these reasons. There’s plenty to enjoy, for sure, but there’s a lot that sits a bit awkwardly for me and for the most part, I've given up attempting to reconcile the situation.

But my non-linear, half-hazard thoughts are that TP never nailed down what he wanted to do with the series. Or, rather, he kept changing what he was trying to do and that made a bit of a mess of it all.

In the beginning it was attempted satire of late 80s High Fantasy, which includes the subversion of the tropes &c. Guards! Guards! and the early Witch books and so on are all in this category.

Then, he began using it more obviously as a sort of Sledge Hammer of Morality. He had his little crusades and they very much reflect the political thinking of the 90s, which means a lot of it didn’t necessarily age well. And, because he’s doing his crusades through a fantasy comedy series, the concepts are not deeply thought through nor fleshed out—at least on paper. No idea what he was like in real life in terms of how deeply thought through his views were, but on paper they’re pretty shallow.

And shallowness works in terms of being quippy and easily digestible, which Discworld is. But it doesn’t often hold up to time or deep thought.

On top of this, we also have TP trying to do proper world-building. But again, he started with a satirical series with very little thought through so the world-building suffers as a result of it. And that also makes for this awkwardness to the whole series. The Watch is the series that suffers the most from this, I think. The Witches not as much and Moist Von Lipwig books were written late enough to not have that tone switch.

(A really quick, off the top of my head example of nonsense world building: we have Ankh-Morpork being canonically, from the start, a mercantile city state. Trade (and lending, it’s implied) is its bread and butter. Yet they have a Thieves Guild and a Teachers Guild &c &c but no Merchant’s Guild until the series begins? You're telling me that Ankh-Morpork, the epitome of mercantilism, based on early modern London and Florence and Venice, has gone hundreds of years with other guilds but no Merchant’s Guild? That makes no sense. The internal logic doesn’t hold up. And I understand the Funny Plot Reasons, but they don't hold water. For me, at least.)

(In general, they're not a well crafted series of books.)

But yeah, trying to address political and social issues through the lends of a Cop Procedural necessarily lands us with Thin Blue Line-ness to the entire series. A bit of cop-apologia happening, even if characters are self-aware about the Issues of the System. There’s an inherent conservativism that runs through Discworld—unsurprising when one considers the context of the time and the author—that sometimes bumps, uncomfortably, up against the ostensibly progressive ideals the series is also trying to convey. It’s a bit of a muddle, that’s for sure.

I’m not going anywhere in particular with this, it’s just something I’ve thought about from time to time.

Rereading Night Watch, it's definitely Thin Blue Line-y; there's no getting away from that, as the Discworld Watch series started as a subversion of the 'medieval fantasy guards who immediately get killed' trope. But it's a book about Sam Vimes reforming the police, forcing them to deescalate instead of resorting to violence first, and to support protestors instead of opposing them. And- this is important- he fails. Or rather, he loses- he succeeds for a little while, then his superiors have all the good cops killed. And he reflects that even if he had won in that time and place, the force would have become just another gang. The real success lies in laying the foundation to try again in the future, once they have institutional support and an idealistic new crop of recruits.

I don't know if that makes it okay, but I can't stop thinking about it.

[7kh]

༉ ease your mind.

cw — wlw. ambessa x f!reader. ambesscock. that’s it that’s the fic. fingering. slight orgasm denial if you squint. pussy slapping. overstimulation. creampie. ambessa loves her stupid little wife (not outwardly said but. yk). ambessa has a huge cock and it almost kills reader (not clickbait!!!)

you stood at the balcony of your palatial-like room, the cold air of the evening hitting your cheeks as your brows furrowed. ambessa sighed at the sight. you were her prized possession, she cleared the rust from you and made you lustrous; now, you were gradually dulling. she couldn’t let that happen. “your performance reflects your effort, little one. you’ve been dragging your feet all week.”

you internally winced at her words. there was no getting around ambessa, no slick tricks or batting eyelashes could conceal how you really felt. “you’re spending too much time in your head. no more of this self-deprecating prattle; you’re fine.” she said finally.

“right..” you exhaled under your breath.

she huffed. if there was one thing she loved about you, it was your compliance. not that it started that way; you had thorns in your words, much to her chagrin. “you disagree,” she noted.

you were a bit too quick to answer, “i do not,”

“no?” she raised an eyebrow at you. another weird shot in your stomach at the slightly teasing tone in her voice. “it’s… it’s silly.” you gulped. “silly.” that was the word you decided? it surprised her even though it shouldn’t. “humor me.”

your eyes briefly flicked to her face for a moment before you looked back down, sighing defeatedly. damn her. “i.. have been dissatisfied with my performance lately. and i fear you have to.” you muttered, you almost thought she didn’t hear you and would coax you to speak louder. but she understood you just clearly. she just didn’t understand why. “so?” you raised an eyebrow at her, looking up at her, continuing as she didn’t let you get the chance to speak yet. “i would have said something to you if i had any grievances. do you doubt my methods?”

mouth slightly gape, you closed it and swallowed again, looking down at the white cement beneath you, “n..no.” ambessa smirked. “no?” she repeated. “then do not waste your brain on such frivolous matters. or do you need a reminder on who exactly you belong to?”

“i-i..” somehow, you were just now made aware of her very close proximity to you. maybe a little too close if you weren’t busy rubbing your thighs together at the mere idea.

“i think you do.”

—

a violent, shuttering breath came from your chest as ambessa’s thick fingers worked amongst your slit, teasing up and down slowly before she rubbed firm yet calculated circles on your clit. gripping the red silk sheets for dear life, and she barely even started. “isn’t this better, hm? a great difference than whatever nonsense you had in that little head of yours.” you sobbed at her teasing, quickly throwing your head back when she added a thick finger inside you. you already felt so full, what more could she have?

you tried your absolute hardest to not squirm and writhe under her when she added another finger, the lewd squelching of your aroused pussy echoing the sumptuous walls. “absolute submission suits you far better, darling..” she drawled while slyly adding a third finger. you nodded dumbly, agreeing to whatever eloquent words she cooed to you. they made your pussy drool hot, creamy juices that made her stomach churn in satisfaction. you pleaded and gasped, her scarred forearm never faltering when your nails dug into it.

to her truimph of having you exactly where she wanted, she removed her fingers, licking them clean shamelessly. messily. like she was sampling piltover cuisine again. except this time it was from your pretty pussy, which automatically made it 10x better than the diplomatic, ‘progressive’ city.

you whine at the loss, bucking your hips up to desperately chase the feeling again until a harsh slap met your cunt, making you squeak and close your thighs together instinctively. “don’t be greedy,” she growled, her blunt hands grabbing the supple skin of your thighs and spreading them wide open for her. you’d be embarrassed if you weren’t so incredibly aroused right now. “good girls don’t get rewarded if they’re inattentive. behave.” she leaned down to say firmly in your ear. you had no other choice but to nod your head, sniffling in compliance.

“your words, girl.”

“y-yes, ambessa.”

“good,” she smirked, leaning up again, lazily undoing her pants with an unreadable expression on her face. she knew you loved this sight of her, standing tall at the edge of the bed as you anticipated for what’s going to come next. it gave you a grueling feeling in your stomach, yet you chased it. chased her. with a scarred hand, she guided her cock out of the tight and inconvenient confines of her pants, mostly, if not already rock hard. dribbles of precum ran from her slit, making your mouth water at the sight, desperately wanting a taste. but not right now. was she twitching from the cool air of the room, or is she just simply built up and found the chance to finally fuck you? it was probably both.

she didn’t even let you breathe before you felt your knees rub against your chest and pulling you further to the edge of the bed, her slick tip sliding up against your slit, making you shudder. “let me show you how i value your excellence above anything else.” she finally sunk her cock into you, inch by inch, making you cry out. she wasn’t even fully in you yet. “breathe,” she cooed, guiding you through it was the least she could do. she held your legs steady as she sunk even further into you, biting your lip to alleviate the slight uncomfortableness. all of this, for you? the least you could do is just sit there and take it.

but, as soon as the pain faded away, you almost instantly became drunk on her cock, every snap of her hips knocked the wind out of you. your pussy salivated on her, smearing on her stomach and thighs and even on the bed, but she didn’t care. in fact, she encouraged it so much she forced you to look down at the sheer mess you were making. you were embarrassed, but the way you felt her cock twitch and hearing her groan when she saw the way she glided in and out of you made it worth it.

she made you pliable. a moldable, sticky mess, like you were designed by the gods to piece together perfectly like a complicated and difficult puzzle. “please, please please..” you whined, feeling her splitting you open. you were so full of her it was like you could fucking feel her in your throat, her cock kissing and bruising you in places you were unaware of until this evening. she was too big, you finalized— yet you could take it, she knew you could. each pant, moan and whine made that very clear to her.

“just fabulous..” she praised under her breath, appreciating how it earned a squeeze and twitches from your dewy, spongy walls. she knew you were getting close, dangerously so. she never relented her pace, having you babble and slur out nonsense, praise for her fucking you so good, thanking her for fixing your silly self-deprecating problems. she simply smirked and exchanged back filth to your slushed mind, but her smirk would slightly falter as she felt herself growing closer to release as well.

“‘bessa, gonna cum, i’m gonna cum, fuck—!!” you were only met with a nod, a final command as you followed it, like always. sobbing helplessly, a final, brutal slam made you gush everywhere, sinking herself down as you came unbelievably hard, your moans borderline whorish when you felt her cum deep inside you, a few shallow thrusts to ensure no drop escaped.

she barely even broke a sweat, yet you were under her fucked out of your mind, thighs twitching in mock-withdrawal in her hands, face ridden with tears and sweat. you were looked a mess, but you never looked more gorgeous in ambessa’s eyes.

her eyes widened softly as your arms wrapped around her neck and pulled her closer to you, but she made no attempt to pull away. she chuckled at your deprivation, rewarding you with a kiss on the side of your lips. “it seems like i hadn’t fail you this time.” you nodded and let out a meek “no” in response. you were too weak to speak at the moment.

you just wanted to selfishly bask in her embrace just a wee longer, wanting your skin to be hers for just a moment.

© 7KH 2024, all rights reserved — do not claim, modify, copy or translate my content.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Can I request headcanons for Vox Machina reacting to gn crush telling him/her that they had been told by their crushes that they're not good-looking and interesting please?

Vax thinks that’s an utter bollocks statement to make, especially since it was coming from someone you had feelings towards.

This absolute sweetheart would sit by you under a blanket of stars and keep you company until he thought you were ready to get back on your feet and show the fucker what they were missing out on.

‘They speak the universal language of bullshit.’ He’d say, which made you laugh in how he worded it. ‘I’m being serious! They don’t fucking know what they’ve missed out on, so don’t be too sad because they knew you were out of their reach and didn’t want to admit it out of their own pride.’ He adds as he allowed you to toy with his dagger

‘Still hurts though.’ You murmured as you tossed the dagger into the air and catching it by the handle as it comes down again. Vax frowns before nudging you in the side playfully.

‘Hey, it may suck now but sooner or later we’re going to look back on this and laugh at how much of a loser they were and how much better off you were without them to tie you down.’ He says and you look at him deeply before smiling. ‘Yeah they were a bit bland featured to be honest.’ You shyly admitted as vax laughed.

‘They’re bland as fuck and you are not, they’re a cunt and your far better then to let that twat have any ounce of power over you in any aspect, oh we can go see if I can pickpocket the bastard for everything their worth? Would that cheer you up?’ Vax asked as you mulled over the idea in your head, but it didn’t take long for you to want to see chaos ensue and you were quick to agree.

You and vax then ran off into the night like two giggling idiots, feeling a thousand times better then you were before.

Vex

‘Oh sweetheart that isn’t true, far from it.’ She’d say as she holds your face, wiping away your tears from your cheeks.

‘Then why would they say it.’ You said as you looked to her for answers within her eyes and Vex couldn’t help but feel her heart crack for you.

‘They’re not worth your tears, none at all if this is how they’re going to make you feel all the time.’ Vex told you as her bear companion huffed and cuddled into your side, sensing your sadness and distress and you were quick to run your hand through their fur in silent thanks.

‘I guess I shouldn’t have expected so much from them to begin with. After all nothing is set in stone.’ You murmured under your breath. ‘But it still hurts regardless.’

‘And it will my dear, it will hurt but sometimes it can motivate us into going the path we were meant to all along.’ Vex replied as watched you and trinket interact with hope in her heart that you’ll be okay, that you’ll be alright in due time.

‘Thanks vex, I really needed to hear that today.’ You tell her, only for trinket to huff as you laugh and ruffle their fur, ‘and yes thank you too trinket, thank you for the emotional support.’

Trinket huffed again but this time in triumph.

Percy wouldn’t know how to comfort you at first but would find it easier to just let you air out your grievances instead.

‘They said I’m bland and unappealing! Only to then call me childish when I showed that I wasn’t happy being called such, claiming I can’t handle the truth.’ You groaned as you fell in to the empty chair that awaited you. ‘What a fucking joke.’ You murmured.

‘What they said is uncalled for and rude on all accounts,’ Percy said calmly, ‘they claim it’s true but from the stories you’ve told me about them, they’re the most boring and unpleasant person to ever engage in a conversation with without feeling the need to bring up your topic of the weather.’ He adds and you snorted at his sarcastic tone.

‘Yeah, they do tend to find the most boring things and talk about them for hours, how I thought that was attractive I’ll never know, blinded I guess.’ You shrugged as you both began to shit talk about your former crush and nitpick at their every aspect with scrutinising detail.

‘They cannot tie a cravat properly to save his life.’ Percy quipped.

‘They avoid taverns because they don’t like the liveliness of them, nor the rowdiness.’ You add.

Percy scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. ‘Pretentious prick.’

You jolted forward in your seat towards him as though you were going to tell him a secret. ‘He’s not even from a well known enough family for that Percy’s they just wanna act like they are.’ You swore you saw Percy smile before he hid it behind his hand.

‘How embarrassing.’ He mumbles.

‘I know right?!’ You exclaimed as throughout the night you and Percy spend most of it together and shit talking the rejection away.

Keyleth would immediately try to disprove this by taking you out to her garden and showing you all the flowers.

‘Why am I here keyleth? To show how unappealing I am in comparison to pretty flowers?’ You asked.

‘No! I brought you here to show that every flower within my garden is no less loved than the other, all of them are watered and properly cared for regardless of how they look or what they smell like.’ Keyleth replied as she made you look at the daises, lavenders, chrysanthemums, water lilies, thistle, roses, Lilly of the valley and many more as thought they were a kaleidoscope of beauty in all its forms.

‘They are indeed all beautiful in their own unique way.’ You mumbled as you brushed one of the petals of a rose. Keyleth smiled as she put her hands on your shoulders and giving them a squeeze.

‘All flowers are loved by someone and you will find someone who will love you just as much as a Gardner loves their flowers.’ She reassured you in a sweet yet calming voice. ‘For you are worthy of love just like these flowers and you’ll find them, it just takes a little time and patience to happen. So hold on tight because someone is out there looking for the prettiest flower; you.’ She finished and you smiled back at her, resting your hands on top of hers, feeling reassured.

‘Thanks keyleth, I really needed it.’ You replied.

Grog

‘Well they’re stupid.’ He’d say in response.

‘but what if they’re right?’ You asked, defeated. ‘What if I am boring and unappealing?’

Grog huffs. ‘Bullshit. You’re far from either boring or unappealing, they’re just weak shit and cowardly because they know they can’t handle someone like you.’

You’d lean into his side and smiling softly. ‘Thanks for cheering me up Grog, I really needed it.’

‘No problem buddy.’ He smiles as he pats your head as a moment of silence passed between you two. ‘So…do you wanna fuck up some bad guys to relive the stress?’ He then asks and you smiled at him.

‘You don’t even have to ask.’ You tell him as you both set off to kick some ass.

[saucerfulofsins]

I love the juice bar scene as much as the next person. I especially love the juice bar scene in conjunction with the confession.

And yeah, the "I'm straight" is chekov's gun, and the chemistry between Eddie and father Brian too. I love the meta/spec/headcanons!

That's not what I want to talk about. Instead, I want to talk about how sensitive Father Brian has been to Eddie's needs. He offered Bobby help in the church, face to face, and that worked for Bobby because he's a religious man. Eddie went to confession, and got his grievances aired, but -

we know Eddie's relationship with the church and religion is more complex than Bobby's. It doesn't work.

And then Father Brian runs into Eddie, recognizes him although he probably only saw Eddie through the confessional's grate. He remembers Eddie's name, too. He cares! And I don't think that's a sexual/romantic thing at all - and I don't think it is religious either. Yes, religion is the context within which he works, but it's not the only context.

He's not technically on the job when he sits down at that table; he's away from the protection by the grandiose rituals embedded in going to church, confession, wearing robes. He does it out of personal care, affection for humanity; he fills the role of a social worker, a guidance counselor - and religion is one of his tools but it's clearly not his only tool. It's also his ability to observe, and to listen, and to reflect on things - putting his finger on the sore spot in ways no one else in Eddie's life has done. That takes guts, especially because he knows Eddie's in a vulnerable place.

And he does it not because he's interested in Eddie romantically/sexually - that is not the reciprocity he seeks, nor the reciprocity that fulfills him. He does it because he cares.

The setting certainly helps too. Eddie doesn't feel as intimidated, not like a fish out of water. Only his title marks Father Brian as a religious figure; he uses it to break the ice and mark himself as safe ("I am celibate"), and then finally invokes his position to speak to Eddie's Catholic guilt and get him to do something for himself.

I don't know. It just felt deeply human and caring and I enjoy that a lot, and I love how it all connects back to Eddie first realizing his Catholic guilt in 7x05.

[sturniolospumpkin]

matt’s — m.s. & c.s.

part four

(part one // part two // part three)

pairings: bf!matt x gf!reader x chris

summary: after last night’s events, you and matt have a conversation with chris.

warnings: MDNI. contains smut, oral sex (f!receiving), fingering (f!receiving), overstimulation, squirting, crying, angst.

disclaimers: this is all fiction. obviously the triplets are not like this in real life, these are just fics i write out of boredom. please do not republish my work as your own, and please credit me if using my writing as inspo <3

the unmistakable squeak of matt’s door pulls you from your sleep. turning to the other side of the bed, your eyes land on a shirtless matt, clad only in a pair of grey sweatpants. you watch as he quietly places a glass of water on his nightstand, still unaware that you’re awake.

“matty?” you croak, eyes squinted as you adjust to the bright sunlight that peaks through the windows.

his gentle eyes flicker to you, a soft smile appearing on his tired face.

“morning baby.” he greets, voice raspy as he climbs into the bed, pulling you into his warm chest.

his fingers along trace your back soothingly as he hugs you, placing a kiss on your forehead before resting his chin atop your head.

“did you sleep okay?” his raspy morning voice is low.

“mhm” you hum, still groggy as you nuzzle your head into his chest.

silence fills the room after you answer. your head moves with the rise and fall of his chest as he rubs your back. he’s so soft, so warm, but his embrace around you grows tighter, until eventually he’s clutching you for dear life. the silence persists, but he doesn’t need to speak for you to know what he’s saying.

“do you wanna talk about it? last night?” matt mutters after a few minutes.

“um—i— i dont know.” you stutter, throat suddenly going dry.

“we don’t have to. i just— i just want to make sure we’re okay. yesterday was a lot. i hurt you, and i understand if you’re upset with me.” matt explains as the memories of the previous night flood your brain.

you hesitate for a moment, unsure if you want to air your grievances, but matt’s soft touch on your back reminds you that you’re safe.

“i’ve just never seen you so— angry” you start, voice barely above a whisper, “like you hated me, like i was nothing to you. it was scary.”

matt lets out a shaky breath, before placing a kiss on your forehead.

“i know baby, i know. i’m so sorry, so fucking sorry for treating you like that. i could never hate you okay?” voice cracking as he speaks. “i didn’t mean any of that awful shit i said to you. i’m so sorry princess.”

you nod your head in his chest, trying to accept his words, but there’s one other memory from last night that you can’t quite shake.

“and then you just left. i thought you were going to break up with me. i thought i lost you.” you squeak.

“im so sorry baby, i really fucked up. but i will never leave you, okay? you will never lose me. i can’t apologize enough for even putting that fear in your head.” he sighs, pulling you back from his chest.

his teary eyes meet yours, pleading not for forgiveness, but for belief. he knew you wouldn’t forgive him immediately, and he didn’t expect you too, but he couldn’t stand the thought of losing your trust.

“okay.” you respond, feeling reassured by his words. you know he’s being genuine— matt has never lied to you.

“i love you more than anything y/n.” he whispers, “you are my everything. i’m sorry i made you feel any less than that. i don’t expect you to forgive me overnight, i just need you to know that it’ll never happen again.”

“i know matty, i love you too.” you nod.

“and i meant what i said— about you and chris.” he adds, “if that’s what you want still.”

you nod your head slowly, taking in the weight of his words, “are you sure? you aren’t just saying this because of what happened last night?”

“i’m sure. i wouldn’t lie to you baby. especially about you dating my brother.” he chuckles attempting to lighten the mood, eyes still fixed on yours.

“i don’t need to have both of you though. you know you’re more than enough for me matty.” you explain.

and you genuinely meant it. you would be more than happy with just matt for the rest of your life if that’s what the future held. he’s everything you could ask for in a partner. but he and chris complimented each other so well—no—complimented you so well. the dynamic between you and them was something you didn’t want to give up, but you would if you had to.

“i know you don’t need both of us, but you want both of us— and you deserve whatever you want. you have no clue how deserving you are baby. i mean it when i say i’d do anything for you.” matt tells you.

the room falls silent again.

“i don’t wanna hurt you though.” you whisper, “it’s not really fair to you.”

matt let’s out a soft chuckle, “baby you’re not hurting me. nothing would change really. chris already spends most of his time with us, and you guys have already had sex. it doesn’t mean less for me, it just means more for you, and more for him. it’s entirely your decision baby—i’ll be happy as long as i have you. i just want you to be happy and not hide your feelings from me because you’re afraid it’ll hurt me.”

your eyes are locked on each others as you take in his words, and then you feel it—tears flowing down your face.

“baby what’s wrong? please— i didn’t mean to make you cry.” matt shushes you, voice laced with concern.

but they aren’t tears of sadness, they’re tears of relief. you had been so worried about hurting matt, or chris for that matter. the feeling had weighed heavily on you since the day had sex with them both. you were terrified of what having to pick between them would mean for the three of you. but matt’s words send the fear and anxiety out of your body, leaving only gratitude as you bury your head in his chest, clinging to him tightly.

“i just love you so much. i don’t know how i got so lucky.” you cry.

“i ask myself the same thing.” matt chuckles, “you know i’m gonna love you forever right?”

you nod your head before responding, “i love you forever too matty.”

“y’wanna go talk to chris?” he asks.

“chris, you up?” matt follows his question with a few knocks on chris’s bedroom door.

there’s no response on the other side of the door, and for a moment you wonder if he’s even awake. the two of you exchange a glance before the door suddenly opens, revealing a disheveled chris. his eyes are puffy and bloodshot—he’s been crying. his gaze finds you first, lingering for only a second before shifting to his brother.

“yeah?” chris’s voice is hoarse.

“can we talk? all of us?” matt gestures between the three of you.

chris’s eyes go wide, shooting you a worried glance before giving matt a hesitant nod. he turns around, taking a seat in his desk chair as you and matt make your way over to sit on his bed. the room is nearly silent, only the sound of chris’s leg bouncing on the floor—a nervous habit of his that you’ve noticed—fills the room. his eyes dart between you and his brother as he gnaws at his lip. you want to tell him that everything is fine, but you yourself are too nervous to speak.

“you were right, we need to establish some uh— boundaries going forward.” matt’s voice pulls your attention.

“what?” chris questions.

“boundaries? like y’know, what lines can and can’t be crossed.” matt clarifies.

“no—i mean, i know what boundaries are,” chris shakes his head, eyes landing on yours, “but, i mean—you want to—matt you’re saying you’re okay with—” chris struggles to form a coherent sentence, letting out a shaky sigh.

“go ahead baby, tell him.” matt gives you a reassuring nod.

you’re suddenly aware of how fast your heart is beating, and how sweaty your palms are. you try to compose yourself under their gazes, taking a deep breath before speaking.

“i want both of you.” you blurt out, voice so quiet you aren’t even sure chris heard you.

you watch his face contort, brows furrowing and head tilting in confusion, until it all clicks for him. his mouth falls open, eyes widening, and you swear you catch a small smirk start to form before he shakes his head.

“what do you mean?” chris asks.

“i have feelings for matt, and for you.” you respond, voice a little louder this time.

“so when you say you want us, you mean like—” he pauses, eyebrows raised at you.

you nod, “i wanna be with you both. if you’d be okay with it.”

“and you’re okay with this?” chris asks his brother in disbelief, considering his actions less than 24 hours ago.

“as long as there are boundaries.” matt nods.

“jesus christtttt” chris draws, a hand running through his hair as he leans back in his chair, eyes trained on the ceiling, “thought you were coming in here to tell me to move out and never speak to you again.”

chris sits back up, eyes shifting between you and his brother before locking on matt.

“and instead you’re telling me the best news of my life.” chris smiles before letting out a chuckle, “you need to work on your delivery.”

“so you have feelings for me too?” you squeak, heat rising to your cheeks.

“sweetheart,” chris practically scoffs before standing up and walking over to where you and his brother sit.

he reaches a hand out to touch you, but abruptly stops himself, remembering what matt said about boundaries. he didn’t want to cross a line before even starting.

“you already know the answer to that. i’ve had feelings for you since the day i met you—sorry matt.” chris confesses.

“hard to blame ya’.” matt shrugs, flashing you a quick smile.

“so what sort of boundaries?” chris’s question is directed at matt, but his eyes stay on yours.

“i don’t know exactly, i think we all just need to be on the same page and communicate. and if we think this is ruining shit between us, we all agree to go back to how things were before?” matt suggests, pulling a nod from you and chris.

but your heart stings at his last sentence for a reason you can’t entirely understand. it’s not like being with matt wasn’t enough, or that you weren’t happy with him.

“so you don’t care if we’re alone together?” chris presses, needing reassurance that something like last night won’t happen again.

“chris she’s just as much your girl as she is mine. as long as she’s okay with it, we can share her.” matt looks to you for approval, to which you nod.

chris exhales, burying his face in his hands as he tries to process the conversation. he quickly picks his head up, turning to meet your eyes.

“my girl” he mumbles to himself with a smile, eyes shifting to his brother,“you know how fucking insane this is right?”

“yeah,” matt sighs, “you telling me you don’t want her though?”

“you kidding? c’mere sweetheart.” chris pats his lap for you to sit.

you happily oblige, plopping yourself in his lap, legs hanging over his. his hand finds your lower back, rubbing gentle circles.

“you sure you want this?” chris asks softly, his eyes flickering to your lips.

your eyes shift to matt, seeking his reassurance once more. he gives you a nod, his smile soft and genuine. you can’t deny your nerves though. your mind spins at the thought of everything that could go wrong. but you also can’t deny your feelings. you want them both— you love them both. so you nod your head.

“words sweetheart?” chris requests.

“i’m sure. if that’s okay?” you respond.

“more than okay.” chris chuckles before connecting your lips in a soft kiss.

it’s the first time you’ve kissed him since the night you slept with him. this kiss is much more brief, but just as passionate. chris pulls away only moments later, prompting matt to speak again.

“i think i owe her an apology for last night, you wanna help me out?” matt smirks, your heart racing in anticipation.

“fuck yeah” chris nods breathlessly, pupils blown with lust.

“sit her up against the headboard with you.” matt directs his brother.

chris taps your hip gently, signaling for you to stand up. he props himself against his headboard before pulling you back onto the bed to sit between his spread legs. you watch as matt situates himself between your legs, ridding you of your sleep shorts. his soft fingertips drag across the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. chris’s hand tangles in your hair gently, tilting your head to expose your neck as he leaves a trail of wet kisses, whispering praises with every kiss.

“gonna make you feel so good baby. gonna show you how sorry i am, okay?” matt’s blue eyes are locked on yours as he waits for your permission.

his mouth is on you the moment you nod your head, tongue gliding through your folds, exploring every inch before plunging into your hole. his movements are slow and deliberate, low groans leaving his lips when he removes his tongue from your hole to suck on your clit. meanwhile chris’s free hand has wandered to your breast, massaging gently through the fabric of your shirt. you let out a moan when chris’s hand grazes your nipple, causing your hips to buck forward on matt’s face.

“that’s it, such a good girl.” matt praises with a hum.

chris lifts your shirt over your head, revealing your bare chest. the tip of his finger gently circles your nipple, chills dancing down your spine before he rolls it between his thumb and forefinger. moans fall from your lips as the two boys pleasure you. it’s not long before the familiar feeling grows inside you, causing you to squirm under their grip.

“you gonna cum for us?” matt asks— but he already knows the answer.

you let out something of a squeal as the coil inside you snaps, your pussy spasming against matt’s mouth. pleasure courses through your veins as chris attempts to holds you in place, but your hips practically grind against matt’s face.

“i love you, fuck, i love you, i love you so much, you’re perfect, i love you.” matt repeats as he laps at your juices.

“dude you gotta have a taste of her,” matt suggests, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “always tastes so good.”

chris nods, getting up from behind you and switching places with matt. you’re still coming down from your high, eyes widening as you process what’s about to happen before chris’s mouth connects with your core. a whine of overstimulation leaves your mouth as you try to squirm out of place, but matt, now sitting behind you, holds your legs open for his brother. chris’s tongue circles your sensitive clit causing you to throw your head back.

“shit baby, look at him.” matt grabs your face, his grip firm but gentle, tilting it to where chris is positioned between your legs.

you let out a moan at the sight beneath you. chris’s eyes are shut, his moans muffling against your pussy as he devours you. you’re completely soaked from the combination of your arousal, matt’s spit, and now chris’s spit.

“you a happy girl hm? got us both to yourself.” matt coos.

you nod your head, unable to speak.

“my baby always gets what she wants huh?” matt whispers, “’cause you deserve the world.”

his tone is so sweet it makes your stomach tingle. his lips are pressed against your ear as he speaks softly to you, the vibrations and warmth of his voice only add to the sensation. chris suddenly pulls his mouth off of you, but before you can protest you watch as he spits directly onto your pussy, his fingers coming up to drag the spit through your folds before plunging into your hole.

“oh fuck” you let out a high-pitched whine.

“gonna cum for chrissy?” matt asks.

“yeah sweetheart? feels good?” chris peers up at you, “like when i spit on you like a dirty girl?”

his words send you over the edge, your orgasm washing over you as he returns his mouth to your pussy, tongue fucking you through it. when you finally come down from your high, chris removes his face from your core, pressing a kiss to your thigh before sitting up to grab a tissue to wipe his fingers.

“such a good girl.” matt praises, lips pressing against your cheek.

suddenly he reaches his fingers in between your legs causing you to whimper at the sensitivity, having already cum twice in all of 10 minutes.

“one more baby? wanna make it up to you please, wanna make you feel so good.” matt pleads.

you nod your head before he slips two fingers into your wet hole, a choked moan escaping you. chris sits face to face with your pussy, mesmerized at the way you take matt’s fingers.

“what a good fucking girl.” chris hums, his fingers trailing your thigh as he makes eye contact with his brother.

you’re almost certain you feel matt nod behind you—to what, you aren’t sure. until chris returns his gaze to your pussy and lines two of his fingers up just below matt’s, pushing into your soft walls. you gasp at the unexpected intrusion, chris smirking below you as he begins moving his fingers in tandem with his brother’s. whines leave your lips and you squirm under matt’s hold as they finger you.

“you like that sweetheart?” matt asks with a kiss to your jaw.

you nod rapidly, glancing down to take in the sight. matt’s arm is draped over your waist, fingers curling up into your pussy while chris’s chin rests on his arm, eye level with your pussy as he fucks the fingers of his free hand in and out of you.

“fucked soaked sweetheart, making a damn mess.” chris chuckles as your arousal drips onto his bed.

“not my fault.” you mutter, barely audible.

“what’s that baby?” matt asks.

“’s not my fault.” you whimper at their fingers, “can’t help it, you— you keep making me feel good.”

“oh we know sweetheart, not your fault at all.” chris coos.

“we just can’t help ourselves baby.” matt adds, thumb connecting with your swollen clit to rub slow circles, “just love making you cum for us.”

the added stimulation sends you reeling, and you struggle to sit still as you the boys continue their actions.

“close sweetheart?” chris asks.

you nod your head before matt slides a third finger inside of you, a loud moan leaving your lips as you squirm in pleasure. you’re impossibly full of their fingers, the sight alone nearly pushes you over the edge. desperate whines leave your lips as they continue thrusting their fingers in and out of you.

“look at that, taking five fucking fingers in your pussy. that’s our good girl.” matt praises.

“so perfect, bet that feels so good doesn’t it sweetheart?” chris’s glazed eyes are locked on yours.

“yes— fuck” you moan.

“gonna cum for us aren’t you baby?” matt asks.

you nod your head rapidly, an unfamiliar sensation growing in your abdomen. you feel yourself tipping, heart racing as you realize what’s about to happen.

“i think i’m gonna—” your sentence is cut off by a yelp as matt and chris speed up their fingers, only exacerbating the feeling.

“that’s it, let go baby.” matt hums.

“cum all over our fingers sweetheart.” chris chimes.

and to everyone’s surprise, you do exactly that, liquid shooting everywhere as your orgasm washes over you. tears of pleasure flow down your cheeks as a slew of moans leave you, the boys never stopping the movements of their fingers.

“holy shit—” matt starts.

“did she just—” chris begins before exchanging a glance with matt.

you think you’re finally coming down from the most powerful orgasm you’ve ever had when matt and chris increase the pace of their fingers, matt’s other hand moving to rub your clit. the sensation is incredibly overwhelming and you yelp as the feeling in your abdomen returns.

“i—” you start to protest before matt cuts you off.

“more baby.” matt demands, eyes completely entranced on their soaked hands, the wet spot on the bed, and the loud squelching of your pussy.

your whines and babbles are incoherent. it feels so good that all you can do is cry in pleasure as the dam breaks again. liquid gushes all over, adding to the mess between the three of you. their fingers slow this time, relief washing over you as you catch your breath.

“there we go” matt hums in satisfaction.

“you are fucking amazing.” chris groans.

“fucking perfect.” matt corrects, “did so good for us baby, squirting all over. look at the pretty mess you made.”

you shift your eyes down, gasping at the wet spot soaking through chris’s comforter, their shiny hands, and chris’s glistening face.

“i’m sorry, i couldn’t—” you whisper.

“don’t apologize.” the two of them respond in unison before chuckling.

they pull their fingers out of you slowly before chris gets up to grab a towel. matt rubs soft circles on your thigh, placing kisses to the side of your face.

“such a perfect girl, we’re so lucky. did that feel good baby?” matt asks.

“really good matty.” you nod your head.

“i hope you know how sorry i am for yesterday. i will spend the rest of time making it up to you.” matt whispers, his head dropping into the crook of your neck.

“i’m okay matty, you’re okay.” you reassure him as chris returns with a towel to wipe you up before tossing the towel to his brother.

“think i’m gonna need to wash my sheets sweetheart,” chris chuckles, “y’wanna go take a shower then we’ll watch a movie or something?”

“yeah c’mon baby let’s get you cleaned up.” matt nods, climbing out from behind you to get off the bed before picking you up bridal style and carrying you to his bathroom.

matt sits you on the edge of the bathtub before turning on the shower. once he rids himself of his clothes, he reaches his hand out for you to grab. you take his hand, but your attempt to stand is unsuccessful as your wobbly legs cause you to lose your balance, nearly falling over before matt’s hands catch your hips to steady you.

“woah” he chuckles before guiding you into the shower, a smile of pride spreading across his face, “i gotcha princess.”

after showering, you find yourself on the couch, head resting in matt’s lap, legs sprawled out as chris enters the living room in new clothes, his hair damp from showering. he smiles at you, making his way over to the couch and lifting your legs up gently to take a seat before placing your legs over his. his soft hands rub along your calves as he searches through netflix. matt’s hand finds it’s way into hair, fingers gently rubbing your scalp. the duality of their soft touch causes your eyes to shut, an exhale of relief leaving you. this feels so perfect.

chris puts on an episode of criminal minds before tossing the remote next to him and leaning back. his eyes scan your figure, spread perfectly across him and his brother.

“this is going to be fun to explain to nick.” chris laughs.

“oh my god” matt responds with a chuckle, “his head’s gonna explode.”

the two of them exchange laughs at the thought of their brother’s reaction. but chris’s words don’t amuse you, they scare you. reality sets in, fear trailing in it’s path as you realize they’re right, nick is going to freak out— and if their own brother is going to freak out, how will everyone else react? you know what will the public reception will be, you know what will be said about you, what will be said about matt and chris. your mind spirals at the thought of hurting their public image, or worse, their careers entirely. you sit yourself up, suddenly feeling like you’re going to be sick.

“you okay baby? what’s wrong?” the concern in matt’s voice pulls chris’s attention to your face.

“what’s everyone going to think—say—about… us?” you mumble, eyes dropping into your lap.

matt sighs at your question, exchanging a glance with his brother before leaning his forehead against the side of your head. he knew it was only a matter of time before this conversation came up, but he hoped somehow it wouldn’t.

“honestly baby, i don’t know.” his voice is soft as his fingers play with the hem of your shirt, trying to calm his own thoughts, “i’m sorry.”

his words offer no comfort to you as the room falls silent, the three of you processing your situation.

“honestly,” chris speaks up, “i don’t give a fuck what they say.”

you and matt turn to look at him, taken aback by his bluntness and the small smile that tugs at his lips.

“but—” you start before his arms wrap around your waist, leaning forward to kiss your cheek.

“i don’t care. this is the happiest i’ve ever been in my entire life. i’m not letting anyone take that from me— from us.” chris states matter of factly.

“chris is right.” matt nods, “how ’bout we just keep it private for now? just between the three of us. i don’t want other people involved in this part of our lives.”

both of their words calm you, but chris isn’t pleased with his brother’s suggestion.

“i mean, that’s not fair matt. i’m not hiding my girl.” chris responds.

“it’s not hiding, chris, it’s protecting.” matt’s tone is sharp.

“we’re not protecting her by pretending people aren’t gonna have negative shit to say.” chris retorts.

“we’re not pretending anything, i just don’t think we need to immediately subject ourselves, especially her, to that.” matt explains.

“so what, we don’t even tell nick? and i’m just supposed to restrain myself when he’s around? pretend like we’re not— together?” chris continues.

you feel tears brim your eyes, guilt washing over you as you sit between the bickering pair. this is exactly what you feared, you’re already a source of tension and causing issues between them. matt’s hard expression softens when he notices your glossy eyes, a hand instantly reaching to cup your cheeks and wipe your fallen tears with his thumb.

“hey, hey, it’s okay, you’re alright baby.” matt coos before pulling you into his chest for a hug, his chin resting atop your head. “let’s not talk about this right now okay?” he suggests to his brother.

chris nods, rubbing your back softly for a moment before he too wraps his arms around you from behind. he places his head in the crook of your neck before a soft voice leaves his lips.

“i’m sorry sweetheart. we can do whatever you want, okay? always.” and you know he means every word.

a/n: hope you guys enjoyed part 4! this is going to be the last chapter of this series, BUT i will still be writing small blurbs for this series. i just don’t want to drag out the storyline by continuing to write long chapters if that makes sense :)

✧ tags✧ @m1zzi3 @pepsiisgoatedasf @courta13 @2muchofaslvt @monroesturnns @emmaweasley @iloveduckssm @tahliama @ellajane2332 @riowritesitall @izzysturniiolo @angeliijay12-blog @brianna-grace12

(if i missed you on my taglist or you want to be added, please lmk!)

[halfvalid]

Hey! I was wondering if you could do a live action Zoro smut where it's enemies to lovers (boy X girl). I don't mind how hardcore smut (18+?) but I would love if there was some tension (argument or fight!) 😁

speak teeth

ABOUT

| 18+ | smut | explicit |

alternate title: i need the lord

rating: explicit

characters: live action!roronoa zoro | fem!reader

pairing: live action!roronoa zoro x fem!reader

word count: 4.9k

description: you and zoro have never gotten along. after a incident in town escaping from marines, you resolve to sort out your issues with unconventional means. (aka sex.)

tags: strawhat!reader, female reader, enemies to lovers, except it's more like frenemies to frenemies with benefits, kissing, kiss to distract trope, no use of “y/n”, reader calls zoro "roronoa", penis in vagina sex, creampie, pwp, cowgirl position

author’s note: thanks for the request! i kind of lost the plot on this one because i'm terrible at writing enemies-to-lovers and there's not much 'lovers' involved in this since i couldn't exactly fit that into a oneshot. hopefully you still like it anyway? i tried my best.

tags make it seem so much worse than it actually is.

Roronoa Zoro did not like you. 

The feeling was mutual, so you didn’t mind the fact, really. Zoro was annoying, with his three swords, and that stupid low voice, and how he never seemed interested in conversation unless it was either about alcohol or beating someone up. You were undoubtedly annoying to him for various reasons not so different in number to your own grievances of his personality. You two didn’t like each other. It was fine. It was normal. 

It was pissing off the rest of the Straw Hat crew. 

In your defense, you were never outwardly aggressive towards the man. You didn’t purposely exclude him from conversations or avoid looking at him if he dared haunt a room you were in with his presence. You just… didn’t speak to him unless spoken to. And maybe you had a tendency to roll your eyes or mutter some insults when he was talking, but it wasn’t that big of an issue. 

Zoro, on the other hand, was a master of discord. He’d killed and hunted so many people it only made sense for him to be, but it seemed he hadn’t skipped his lessons in petty fights either. Because he was bullheaded and a buzzkill and always opened his big mouth when you were around. Those sarcastic remarks of his were common, sure, but when you were in the room they were tenfold and laced with genuine venom. 

You weren’t sure who’d even started the strife between you two. It had been so long that you’d forgotten. While everyone else had seemingly bonded after your journey together, you and Zoro remained firmly in the stage you’d been while trapped in Buggy’s green room—antagonistic. Obviously you didn’t hate each other—when Zoro had nearly died to Mihawk, you hadn’t been happy—but you didn’t get along, and both of you were just fine with that arrangement. 

Nobody else was, though.

And so obviously you didn’t like it when Luffy announced, as you were docked, that you were assigned to scout the surrounding village together. Your lips twisted, but you refrained from saying anything up until Luffy finished his speech with: “And that’s the plan! Any objections?” 

There were head shakes from all around the deck of the Going Merry. You eyed Zoro in the very corner—his arms were crossed, and carefully he raised a hand, just barely lifting it into the air as he motioned. “Why is she coming with me?” 

You bit your tongue, suppressing the irritated sigh that threatened to escape. “Because,” Luffy said, bright as ever, “You two need to learn how to be friends. Think of it as a bonding activity!” 

“I’d really rather go with Sanji,” you optioned, trying to be more civil than Zoro at least. “He could use a hand carrying the stock barrels.” 

“Nope,” Luffy chirped. “It makes most sense for the two of you to be the one to buy the weapons, anyway.” 

“He’s right. You both are the most knowledgeable on the subject,” Nami whispered, though she gave you an apologetic look. You sighed. Zoro opted to say nothing. 

“Fine. Let’s go, Roronoa,” you said, getting up off the Going Merry’s railing to start walking off the ship. You heard Zoro grumble from behind you, but he soon caught up. You said absolutely nothing to each other for the first few minutes of walking, keeping to yourselves until you eventually reached the market. 

“What kind of weapons are we looking for?” you asked, glancing over your shoulder at the man who trailed just barely behind you. “I know Luffy wants backups, but did he say specifically what?” 

“Probably a few guns, maybe some swords,” Zoro replied. “A katana for me. Extra staff for Nami, in case hers breaks.” 

“Right. Nami gave me five-hundred thousand berry. Let’s spend it wisely. No pit stops.” 

Zoro gave you a look. “It’s not like I’m going to slip into the nearest tavern and abandon you. Luffy said we go together, so we go together.” 

“Right.” You turned away so you could roll your eyes in private. You had to appreciate that, at least; Zoro’s loyalty to Luffy at least meant he wouldn’t be a bitch to you if Luffy told him not to, and Nami kept you more or less under wraps too. “Pistols first. Let’s just get two, and save the rest for a sword because those are more pricey.” 

Focusing on business was fine. You could be a responsible adult and not be petty. And it really did go okay for the first half-hour, wherein you bartered one of the weapons sellers down to a reasonable price for two pistols and also picked up a bo staff on the way.

You were just heading towards another district of the town when Zoro slowed to a stop. You glanced over to see what he was looking at—a wall pasted with bounty posters, various pirates plastered on paper with big numbers shouting out their worth. 

“Look, it’s Luffy,” you said, eyes catching a bundle of posters near the top. Sure enough, all six members of the Straw Hat crew were there. You noticed with distaste that Zoro’s bounty was higher than yours.

Zoro tore all of the posters off, and you were almost surprised when he took yours off too. He crumpled them up into balls, about to toss them behind his shoulder before you grabbed them, carefully tucking them away in your bag. “What’s that for?” he asked. 

“So I can shoot darts at your face,” you replied. “Come on. Should finish and get back to the ship before anyone recognizes us.” 

Zoro shrugged, but followed you as you led him to the closest armory you could find. The shop was small and rickety, and a silver bell announced your presence as you entered the building. There were blades of every kind in the shop; you could see a table of knives and daggers, along with a stand full of long swords by the front. Near the back, you glimpsed some hanging rapiers, and—

“Katanas,” Zoro muttered, pushing past you to slip to the back of the store. You sighed, but followed, glancing over the array of jians instead. Zoro was already picking one up and pulling it out of its sheath, checking the quality of the blade. 

“Don’t—” you hissed, and he glanced up at you, brow raised in question as he spun the blade around in his hand. “You’re going to knock something over.” 

Zoro sheathed the sword, a satisfying click filling the room with the motion. “Calm down.” 

“I am calm,” you snapped. “If you’d just stop stomping around with those big boots of yours, though—” 

Zoro looked far less affected by the entire ordeal than you did, and that pissed you off even more. Logically, you knew he didn’t show much emotion in general, and even his annoyances tended to be deep and quiet—but still. He strung the katana back up where it belonged. “I am not stomping.” 

“Yes, you are—” You cut yourself off as the bell of the store rang again, announcing the arrival of more patrons. These two were whispering to each other, gruff voices that sounded almost scared. “He came in here, right?” One of them asked the other. “Are you sure it’s him?” 

“He tore down his own wanted poster!” The other hissed back. 

You caught onto what was happening quickly, letting a sigh out from between your teeth and grabbing onto Zoro’s arm to yank him further back into the store. You turned a corner, where a narrow hall cut off at a dead end, a wardrobe of swords blocking off the area to any prying eyes. “Now look at what you did,” you grumbled, before you could stop yourself. “You’ve got fucking bounty hunters after us.” You glanced through the stands of swords for a double take—the pair were standing at the front, outfitted in familiar white-and-blue uniforms. “Scratch that, even worse. Marines.” 

“I can take them in a fight,” Zoro muttered, hand going to his swords. You grabbed his wrist and gave him a look. 

“No. We’re not due to leave the docks for another two days,” you snapped. “Can you figure out a way to get out of a situation without stabbing someone?” 

“How can you be sure it was him, though? The Demon?” The more timid marine asked. They’d started moving, and you shoved Zoro into the corner, attempting to hide his ridiculously broad figure with an armoire of weapons. He scoffed, but made no move to adjust, back flat against the wall.

“He had the three swords. And the three earrings, too. Of course it was him,” the other one replied. You rolled your eyes. 

“Ever try being a little less obvious, Roronoa?” you muttered, shooting another glare in Zoro’s direction. “You’re like a flashing red light for every marine within a two-mile radius with your stupid swords. I’m Roronoa Zoro, the pirate hunter!” 

“I don’t hear you yelling at Luffy to take his hat off,” Zoro hissed back. 

“They’re coming this way,” you answered, entirely ignoring his retort. “Hide your stupid swords. Shove them behind a stand or something.” 

“I don’t see why we can’t just—” 

“No fighting.” You swiveled around, tugging his holsters off his belt and tossing the swords behind him with a graceless clatter. Zoro just sighed. “Shit,” you muttered as the marines turned at the noise, starting to move towards the back of the store.

“Now look at what you did,” Zoro mumbled, mocking your words straight back at you. You glared at him. 

“Shut up and stay put,” you snapped. “Let me think of something.” The marines were coming closer, and you huffed out a nervous breath. Zoro watched you from his position. 

“They know your face, too,” he said carefully. Almost derisively, like he was looking down on your idea; making you seem stupid. “Just let me fight them. It makes the most sense.” The footsteps grew louder, then, the marines moving towards the back of the store. 

“I think I heard voices,” one of them muttered to the other. You shushed Zoro, unconsciously moving closer to him until your arm bumped into his. You startled, and then looked up, finding Zoro’s chest just inches away from your face. 

“Is this some new sort of hiding tactic?” Zoro asked, voice dry as a desert. “Are you trying to melt us into the wall—” 

The voices tapered off as the marines moved closer. Your hand shot up to cradle Zoro’s face, covering his dangling gold earrings with your fingers to hide them away. “Fuck this,” Zoro muttered, leaning back to pick up his swords. You shushed him, and he stopped, bent halfway over you so your faces were just inches apart. 

“Just trust me,” you snapped. Zoro opened his mouth to argue, but then the marines’ footsteps got louder—they’d turn the corner any moment now. 

“Fine,” he breathed. “But if it doesn’t work, I’m taking out my swords.” 

Your mind ran a million miles a minute trying to figure out what to do. The marines were just around the corner now, and your breath caught, eyes meeting Zoro’s as you wracked your brain for something, anything that might distract the marines away from the two of you. Zoro’s lips parted, a split-second away from undoubtedly whispering some grand insult when the marines finally turned the corner.

You were kissing Zoro before you could even think. 

“Oh,” one of the marines said, as your fingers nearly pinched Zoro’s earlobe, still covering his earrings. Zoro was frozen for a moment, but the marines behind you seemed startled enough that he realized it was working. A rush of satisfaction filled you for a moment—see, Roronoa, you don’t have to stab shit all the time—before Zoro was kissing you back.

And. Well. You’d started it, but you had not anticipated this. 

Zoro was almost rough, his hand curling around the nape of your neck and tugging you down closer to him. His other hand came to rest on your waist, so impossibly big around your torso that you shivered. What had started out as a simple kiss slipped into one all messy, your breaths coming out in sharp gasps as Zoro barely gave you a moment to breathe. 

His teeth dug into your lip, and you groaned into his mouth, tongue darting along his gums with the motion. He snickered at that, and you felt a little bundle of vexation starting at the pit of stomach at the sound. You ran your tongue into the crevices of his mouth, licking into him with ease. Another rush of satisfaction filled you as Zoro’s grip tightened on your waist. You were winning.

He fought back just as hard, practically merciless as his tongue slid against yours, prying into your mouth like he was trying to bare you empty of secrets. You felt stripped raw like this, but it wasn’t a terrible feeling—the opposite, actually, soft whimpers leaving your lungs as he dug more fiercely into you. Zoro sucked on your lower lip with teeth, and you barely managed to suppress the stuttered sound it tugged out from the back of your throat. 

There were hasty footsteps receding somewhere behind you, which was the only sound that snapped you out of your motions. You were the first to break away—another score gained there—glancing over your shoulder to ensure the marines had really left before fully detaching yourself from Zoro. The silver bell rung again, signaling the marines had made their exit, and you let out a relieved sigh. 

Zoro glanced over your shoulder, straightening his clothes as his tongue ran along his top teeth. The top teeth you’d had your tongue on just seconds ago. “If you wanted to kiss me, you could’ve just said so.” 

“I did not—” You sucked in a breath, all your general irritated feelings towards the man coming back at full force with just that one sentence. “Shut the fuck up. I got us out of the situation, didn’t I?” 

“You have questionable methods,” Zoro replied, leaning over to pick up his abandoned swords and strap them back along his hip. “Don’t think about that all night.” 

“You were not that good of a kisser,” you snapped, though you could feel your face getting hot. Your mouth tingled, like you could still taste him on your tongue; on your teeth; in your gums. There was a vaguely empty sensation at the curve of your waist you tried your best to ignore. “Don’t be so full of yourself. Roronoa. Now pick a sword to buy so we can leave already.”

Zoro seemed irritated, but he complied, brushing past you to inspect a few more of the swords before picking out one. You paid for it as quickly as possible, in a rush to get back to the ship; not even trying to talk the salesman down from his price like you usually would. 

Zoro followed you languidly, absolutely nothing urgent about his motions as you trailed after you back through the village. You wanted to uppercut him so badly. 

“Oh, there you guys are,” Usopp said upon stepping foot back onto the Going Merry. You shot him an apologetic smile before breezing past, beelining for your bedroom without a second thought. “Uh—okay! You good?” he called after you, but you were too far away to respond at this point. 

You slammed the door of your room shut upon entering, heaving out a breath of jumbled emotion all in one go. Fuck Roronoa Zoro and his three stupid swords and his three stupid earrings. He was the most lumbering, bullheaded oaf you’d ever had the displeasure of engaging with. 

He’d been a ridiculously good kisser. Now you hated him even more. 

You locked yourself in your room for the next four hours, busying yourself with various tasks whilst simultaneously seething over Zoro. It wasn’t even that he’d done anything specifically to you in the past. You just—didn’t get along, really. He was irritating, and stupid, and always tried to solve his problems with a blade rather than attempting to use his wits. Not that he had any wits of any kind. He was—

He was, as you were starting to find out, kind of attractive. Which. Okay. You’d known his face was at least easy on the eyes, despite his personality and general attitude not retaining the same qualities. But this was an entirely unappreciated development. 

Someone knocked on your door, snapping you out of your irritated haze. The sun had nearly set, a kiss of dusk coming in from outside as you shuffled over to the door. You yanked it open. “What—”

Zoro was standing in the doorway, arm propped against the side and keeping your door open even as you attempted to close it on him. “Roronoa.” 

“You’re hiding,” Zoro said, a tinge of mirth just barely visible in his eyes. You glared at him. 

“I am not.” 

“Do you have to disagree with everything I say?” Zoro asked. He was still wearing his swords even now, though he’d dressed down as the hour grew late. “You skipped dinner.” 

“Leave me alone,” you muttered. 

Zoro took that as an invitation to step fully into the room. “I told the rest of the crew about the marines,” he said, and you flinched. “Not about that. Just that we got away. Nami wants to leave tomorrow evening now, so we’ll be busy.” 

You stared at him, suspicious right from the start. “And you care enough to tell me? Did someone put you up to this?” 

Zoro stiffened. “I just thought you might want to know.” 

Your eyes narrowed. He looked as normal as ever—face blank, leaving no expression to be seen. But his muscles were tenser than usual, and the veins running up his arm were prominent, like his hand was tightened into a fist where it hid away in his pocket. “You have ulterior motives.”

“You’re so annoying,” Zoro muttered, but he didn’t budge. You scoffed. 

“What, are you here to admit that you were wrong and my plan really did get us away from the marines?” you asked, voice sugary sweet as you riled him up. His jaw clenched, a vein tracing up his neck bulging with the pressure. “You don’t need to inflate my ego—”

Zoro moved across the room swiftly, and you stumbled back in surprise as he pinned you to the wall, hand tight around your arm. Your words died in your throat as his lips sealed over yours with a bruising kiss. His fingers dug into the skin of your bicep—tight, but not tight enough to hurt. 

“I don’t need to inflate your ego,” Zoro snapped, finishing your sentence from where it’d died on your lips. “You do that enough yourself.” 

You stared at him, the tingle of his lips still left as an afterthought on your mouth. “If you’re going to make out with me, take your fucking swords off.” 

Zoro barely suppressed an eye roll, hands working at his belt to slide his holsters off from his hip. “What’s your problem with them?” 

“I think your emotional dependency on a bunch of oversized butter knifes—”

Zoro’s head jerked up, eyes dark when they met yours. “Don’t call them that.” 

You couldn’t resist the quip off your tongue. “You asked.” 

Zoro slowly made his way across the room again, steps careful and languid as he moved closer. “I take it back,” he said, voice a near whisper, every word crisp on his tongue. You shivered. 

This time, you expected it when he kissed you. He wasn’t careful with it, and you didn’t want it any other way—your arms wrapped around the back of his neck, tugging him down closer to you. It got aggressive quick, his fingers coming down to clutch your waist, one of your hands tight around the locks of his hair as you pried open his mouth with your tongue. 

Neither of you complied easily, both trying to get the better of the other. Zoro’s tongue forced itself into your mouth before you tugged on his lower lip with teeth. Both his hands came to wrap around your waist, now, hoisting you up and onto your hanging bed in the center of the room. His fingers dug in hard enough to leave bruises. 

Zoro abandoned your mouth in favor of your neck, biting open-mouthed kisses into your jawline before moving down your jugular. Each one was more hasty than the last, wet and warm with licks of tongue and scrapes of teeth. You didn’t bother moving to give him better access—he had to do that himself, a large hand coming to rest on the back of your skull and pulling your head back to bare the rest of your neck to him. You heard him mutter something in Japanese—probably some obscenity, which pleased you more than you’d like to admit. 

His kisses stopped at the hinge of your neck and shoulder, Zoro pausing to lean over and work his fingers up your spine. They danced over the clasp of your shirt, and you had to choke back a wry laugh, surprised. “I thought the Demon just took what he wanted,” you murmured. 

Zoro didn’t seem to like that. He started unfastening the buttons going down the back of your top. “At least I was polite enough to ask,” he muttered. 

“Just take my clothes off already,” you said, and he stopped his work, leaning back to glare into your eyes. You let out an annoyed sigh, and he rolled his eyes, going back to what he’d been doing. “Are we going to talk about it?” you asked, eyeing Zoro’s chest in front of you. 

You pressed a kiss to his neck, sucking at the skin before grazing it ever-so-slightly with your teeth. His throat hitched under your mouth. 

“Nope,” he grunted, finally unclasping the last button and pulling your top over your head. Since you didn’t have an issue with that arrangement, you didn’t say anything, even as Zoro practically shoved you flat on your back. 

“Rude,” you muttered. Zoro didn’t bother apologizing; he just leaned down to take your breast in his mouth, tongue circling around your nipple. You weren’t fast enough to suppress your gasp this time—a point in Zoro’s favor then, one you allowed with a bitter taste on your tongue. Zoro’s mouth formed a smile against your skin. You brought your knee up between his legs, shoving into his crotch in retaliation. 

“Stop,” Zoro hissed, the consonants of the words brushing across your skin when he spoke. You ignored him, and he let out a groan, hand clamping around your thigh to keep you from moving. “Do you have to be such a brat?” 

“I am not a brat.” You hooked your ankle around his, causing him to slip from where he lay suspended above you, mouths mashing in another too-aggressive facsimile of a kiss. “You’re just a gigantic manwhore with an overinflated ego.” 

“You did not just call me—” You shut him up with another kiss, teeth digging deep into the inner gums of his lip. You ran your hands up the sides of Zoro’s figure, trying your hardest to ignore the stiff muscles of his ribcage. He wasn’t that well-built. He wasn’t even that attractive, you tried to convince yourself. Still, you found the buttons of his shirt, trying to unfasten them quicker than Zoro had with yours. 

One of them caught, and Zoro had the audacity to laugh. You grumbled something incoherent under your breath, tugging his shirt off all the way and tossing it somewhere behind you. “Shut up.” 

“You’ve been the one complaining this entire time,” Zoro replied easily. He leaned down, tugging at your trousers to pull them off, pressing sloppy kisses down your torso now. You resisted the urge to say something in response, knowing it would just give him the satisfaction of being right. Were your points tied now? You couldn’t remember. 

Zoro had pulled your pants down to your knees by now, and you kicked them off all the way, watching as he pushed them off the bed and leaned down to work at the inward slope of your hip. You shivered, legs trembling as you felt your core grow tight, the cloth of your underwear already wet with anticipation. Seeing the ever-steadying tent in Zoro’s pants made you feel just a little bit better, and you were nice enough to let a stuttering moan out as his tongue licked down to the band of your panties. 

He pulled your underwear all the way off, then, but to your distaste completely ignored your fully exposed core to unbutton his own pants instead. “I hate you,” you muttered. 

Zoro stopped in the middle of what he was doing, pants halfway down his thighs and length already out. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he said, voice careful—you could still hear the mocking tone beyond the coolness of his voice, though, and your jaw clenched in irritation. “Did you want something?” 

“Yeah, for you to shut the fuck up.” You pushed yourself up by the elbows, grabbing one of Zoro’s arms and yanking him down onto the mattress. You used both hands to strip him of the last of his clothes—God, his legs were long—before returning to press your own open-mouthed bruises along his neck. His hips bucked up against yours, insistently chasing any friction, but you tightened a grip on his thigh to get him to stop. “Give me a second.” 

“I don’t like that I’m suddenly under you,” Zoro said drily, and you could feel the words as they formed in his throat, still biting hickeys into his skin. You rolled your eyes, lips disconnecting from skin with a dull pop.

“Deal with it, Roronoa. I’m not moving.” With that, you finally reached down to coax his legs apart, hovering your core over his hips as you lined your entrance up with his length. 

There was an audible hitch of breath on Zoro’s part as you sunk onto him. Point. 

One of his hands tangled in your hair when you started moving, the other coming to press on the small of your back as you worked yourself up and down around him. For the complaining he’d done about the position, he didn’t seem so bothered about it, pulling you into a rough kiss. 

You bit back with force, breath escaping you as your hips bucked against Zoro’s. The wet pool in your lower belly only grew stronger with every thrust, pressure building up inside of you as Zoro’s tongue ran across your teeth. You moaned freely now, too lost in the daze of your pleasure to remember to be annoying. Evidently Zoro felt the same way—he swallowed every one of your gasps up, grunting as you pulsed around him.

Your hips stuttered, thigh muscles contracting with the effort as you clenched down on Zoro. Still, you pushed through even as your muscles started to tire, encouraged by the deep, throaty sounds that escaped Zoro's lips between each kiss. He was big, filling you up damn near wholeheartedly, the crevices inside of you seeming to mould to his skin as you worked yourself on him.

Zoro started moving against you, and you gasped as his angle changed, somehow reaching farther in your body and causing tingles to erupt all along your skin. Your mind buzzed as he thrust into you with renewed vigor, core pulsing as you felt yourself come closer and closer to the edge. 

You came all at once, teeth biting down in Zoro’s mouth before you parted from him. You let out a gasping moan, attempting to toss your head back as stars burst across your vision. Zoro’s hand in your hair dragged you back into a kiss, though; this one was slower, less teeth this time, like him coming had lessened the urge to bite. 

Your movements slowed, coming to rest against Zoro’s skin, warm and—although you wouldn’t say so out loud—almost comfortable. His hand hadn’t budged from where it was pressed against your lower back, holding you tight to him. 

There was a sticky wetness spreading fast by your thighs, and you grimaced, lifting yourself off of Zoro and rolling beside him on your back in one fluid motion. He stifled a groan at the movement, clearly irritated at the fact you hadn’t given any warning. 

You lay there, breath heaving, rising out your high and making no move to touch the man laying by your side. 

After you’d regained some of your dignity, you sat up, eyes narrowing at Zoro. “Get off my bed.” 

Zoro gave you an exasperated look, but he didn’t argue; he just climbed off your bed, retrieving his clothes from where you’d tossed them about the room. He donned them slowly, like he had all the time in the world. Your eyes traced along his figure while he did, and you only felt sort of annoyed by it. 

“I still hate you,” you snapped, after he’d finished changing. Zoro just scoffed, picking up his swords and slinging them across one shoulder. You could see a bruise purpling by his neck. At least you’d done damage. 

“Fine by me,” he replied, straightening his shirt and giving you a look—not quite irritated, not quite sarcastic. “Dinner’s still waiting for you.” 

You glared at his back as he opened the door to your bedroom. “Get lost, Roronoa,” you said, and that was that. 

© halfvalid 2023

[captainamericasmotercycle]

Can I request one for Jacaerys Velaryon where Rhaenyra betroths him to his twin sister and they're both super awkward about it. You can write it as you wish.

warnings: i didn't make them twins so interpret her as you'd like, targ!cest (unintentional?), aemond and aegon taunting jace, high valyrion (i'm not fluent forgive me), takes place in 1.08 (lord of the tides), more angsty than awkward, aemond x reader if you squint really really hard?

“Her children are bastards! And she is a whore,” Vaemond Velaryon spoke with vemon on his tongue.

You and your brothers shared a glance of embarassment with one another.

Viserys hobbled up from his seat on the throne, “I will have your tongue for that.”

Before Viserys could get any further Dark Sister flung through the air, taking Vaemond’s head with her. Everyone in the room jumped back, your mother pushing you behind her, as your younger brother gasped.

“He can keep his tongue,” chaos erupted with the King’s guard.

“Disarm him!”

Daemon wiped the Velaryon blood off his sword and sheathed it, ushering you and his daughters out of the room, “No need.”

-

Later in the dining hall, you and your estranged family stood around a large table, Viserys was carried in and sat in between your mother and Alicent, “How good it is… to see you all tonight… together.”

One he was situated, all sat in the respective places, you between Jacaerys and Lucerys.

Alicent looked to her husband, “Prayer before we begin?”

“Yes,” your family was not the most religious, you looked to Jace, you looked back at you with an annoyed expression.

“May the Mother smile down on this gathering with love. May the Smith mend the bonds that have been broken for far too long. And to Vaemond Velaryon, may the gods give him rest.”

Viserys was the first to speak, just barely lifting his cup, “This is an occasion for celebration, it seems. My grandson Luke, will marry his cousins Rhaena, further strengthening the bond between our houses. A toast to the young Prince… and his betrothed! Hear, hear!”

The rest of the table rose their glasses and toasted to your younger brother.

Aegon, sitting next to Jace leaned over and spoke quietly, “Your younger brother bests you once again. Laying with a women before you.”

Viserys spoke again, “Let us toast as well Prince Lucerys… the future Lord of the Tides. Hear, hear!”

You smiled at him, squeezing his hand, “You’ll be great.”

Aegon continued on with him, “You do know how the act is done, I assume? At least in principle? Where to put your cock and all that.”

“Let it be, Aegon,” Helaena chastised him, tired of his jokes.

“You can play the jester if you wish, but hold your tongue before my sister,” Jace defended you.

Your family sat in tension, your grandsire felt the need to clear the air, “It both gladdens my heart and fills me with sorrow to see these faces around the table. The faces most dear to me in all the world… yet grown so distant from each other… in the years past.”

He takes his mask off his face and drops it on the table, “My own face… is no longer a handsome one… if indeed it ever was. But tonight… I wish you to see me… as I am. Not just a king… but your father. Your brother. Your husband… and your grand sire. Who may not, it seems… walk for much longer among you.”

He breathes heavily and struggles with his next words, “Let us no longer hold ill feelings in our hearts. The crown cannot stand strong if the House of the Dragon remains divided. But set aside your grievances. If not for the sake of the crown… then for the sake of this old man who loves you all so dearly.”

Your grandsire sits and the room was filled with silence, your mother arose from her place next to him.

“I wish to raise my cup to Her Grace, the Queen. I love my father. But I must admit that no one has stood… more loyally by his side than his good wife. She has tended to him with… unfailing devotion, love, and honor. And for that, she has my gratitude… and my apology.”

Alicent smiles solemnly to Rhaenyra, “Your graciousness moves me deeply, Princess.”

She stands and raises her cup, “We are both mothers… and we love our children. We have more in common than we sometimes allow. I raise my cup to you… and to your house. You will make a fine queen.”

Each at the table took turns toasting to the family, each aggrivating Jacaerys more.

Aegon, drunkenly, rose, turning to Luke, “I, um… I regret the disappointment you are soon to suffer. But if you ever wish to know what it is to be well satisfied, all you have to do is ask.”

Aegon smiles and turns to Jace now, “Ask me, of course. Your older brother would not know how to guide you.”

Jace stands, slamming his hands down on the table, you grab his wrist, “Jace.”

Sternly looking at him, he glances to you before raising his glass, “To Prince Aegon and… Prince Aemond,” Aemond’s face hardens, “We have not seen each other in years, but I have fond memories of our shared youth. And as men, I hope we may yet be friends and allies. To you and your family’s good health, dear uncles.”

Jace sits and Heleana stands, “I would like to toast to Baela and Rhaena. They’ll be married soon. It isn’t so bad. Mostly he just ignores you… except sometimes when he’s drunk.”

Aegon rolls his eyes in embarassment, Viserys smiles at his youngest daughter, and Daemon gently laughs.

Viserys feels ill and is taken out of the room. Only the Hightower side of the family is left.

You’ve always had a strained relationship with your uncles, but you did love Helaena, often times strolling in the gardens with her, or her teaching you some embroidery tricks.

Aemond glances at you from across the table, a dark and hungry look in his eyes. You look away from him and to your mother. She nods at you, as a way of saying that she would take care of it.

The pig comes out of the kitchens and is brought to the table, Luke chuckles at the sizzling pig. Aemond slams his fist on the table, capturing everyone’s attention.

“Final tribute. To the health of my nephews: Jace… Luke… and Joffrey. Each of them handsome, wise… hm… strong,” he looks to you and smirks, “And my niece, you are of age now, luck to you in finding a husband. Perhaps someone strong, maybe you will find home in the Riverlands.”

“Aemond,” Alicent warns.

You can see Jace fuming from beside you, but you gently nudge his foot under the table with yours. You keep your composure.

You hum, smirking back at him, “Kirimvose, yn nyke gīmigon nyke kostagon become tolī than sepār mirtys’s riñnykeā ābrazȳrys… Kepa.” Thank you, but I know I can become more than just someone's lady wife… uncle

“Kostilus se ābrazȳrys hen nykeā darilaros?” Perhaps the wife of a prince?

“Nyke unyishishk jorrāelagon daorun tolī than naejot sagon se ābrazȳrys hen dārys's tȳne tresy.” I would love nothing more than to be the wife of the king's second son.

Aemond’s face hardened. Only you, Aemond, your mother, and Daemon fully understood the words exchanged. Your mother and Daemon shared a look of pride.

Alicent looked at the interaction with confusion and furrowed brows.

“What are they saying?”

“Aemond has proposed a marriage it seems,” Rhaenyra speaks.

Jace looks at you almost angrily, “What did you say?”

All eyes were on you, “What she said is not important,” your mother interrupted.

She cleared her throat, “What matters is that my daughter will wed her brother, Jacaerys, heir to the Iron Throne. She will become queen one day; something more than someone’s lady wife.”

Everyone’s eyes widened. You felt heat rise to your cheeks. There is no way that your mother would have you marry your brother?

Aemond’s hardened grin turned to a smug one, “Well then, congratulations is in order to my niece and her strong husband.”

Jace stood and walked towards the center of the room, challenging his uncle, “I dare you to say that again.”

Aemond stood with him, walking to him, “Why? ‘Twas only a compliment,” he leaned into Jace, whispering into his ear, “Do you not think yourself Strong?”

Without hesitation, Jace swung at Aemond, getting in a good punch onto his jaw. Everyone around the table gasped, your mother yelled sternly, “Jace!”

Aemond reached for his blade, but his mother’s voice stopped him, “Aemond! That is enough!”

“Go to your quarters. All of you go, now.”

You stood and watched Jace walk out. You didn’t follow him to his quarters to check on him. You stayed in the hall and waited for your mother.

As she came out of the dining hall, you caught up with her.

“Mother!”

She turned to you, “Were you telling the truth… about me.. and Jace?”

Holding your face in her hands she stroked your cheek with her thumb and smiled gently at you, but you could not meet her eyes, “You will make a great queen one day, my sweet girl.”

She tugged at your chin to force you to look at her, “But now, you need to rest, we have quite the journey ahead of us back to Dragonstone, tomorrow.”

You nodded before heading back to your quarters. Nodding at the guards standing at your door, you pushed them open.

Jace, who was waiting for you on your bed, stood at your entrance. You sighed and rolled your eyes.

“Jacaerys, it is not proper for you to be in here… not anymore.”

“Please just listen.”

You walked around the room, releasing the maids of their duties, “Leave us.” The maids were quick to exit.

“I did not know she was going to say that!”

“I did not know Aemond would try to wed me tonight.”

“I’m sorry. We do not have to wed if you choose to take someone else’s hand—”

“No,” shaking your head, “It is.. our duty now, as the future queen’s eldests.”

“I promise to be a good husband—”

“Jacaerys, I do not wish to speak of this any longer.”

He spoke your name softly, “I’m sorry.”

“Leave me, Jace.”

He said your name more sternly now.

“Leave me, your grace.”

He sunk into himself, hands on his sheathed sword, nodding at you, “As you wish.”

You watch him leave, the door slamming behind him. You groaned in frustration, running your hands over your face and through your hair.

How are you supposed to marry your brother of all people?