#this is supposed to be relaxing ffs

[not-mary-sue]

Me: you know what? I'm getting quite confident. I'm going to book my first solo holiday.

My brain, the second I book my hotel: Hey, would you like some FEAR.

Me:...no

My brain: FEAR. DOOOOOM!

[noa-nightingale]

Just had to rip up two days worth of knitting and I want to CRY.

[spideysatan]

going again to the hospital bc this pain just wont go away

[satoruan]

FRIENDS WHO PLAY TOGETHER STAY TOGETHER ! ! — ARCANE

( tw ) f!reader. FF pairings. modern AU! masterbation. fingering. squirting. cunillings. dry humping. reader is kinda possessive in Vi’s. some yearning.

featuring. Violet, Caitlyn Kiramman & Mel Madarda

authors note. When you off that honey packet and ur home girl the only one in vicinity. Mel is so 🤭 I can’t she my type to a teeee. Anyways I’m about to go watch Act 2 WISH ME LUCK IM SCARED. Also idk how I feel about Kaits part I could do better 😔

VIOLET 

You and Vi were at another one of your friends' sleepovers. You didn't wanna come, you wanted to spend the Saturday just the two of you, alone. You hated sharing her attention, she was your best friend. You were each other's number one, why did you need other friends when you two were each other's everything. It was late now, almost everyone was sleeping or about to fall asleep when Vi crawled between the bodies of people to where you were laying. You didn’t notice until you felt the familiar embrace of her against your back. Despite yourself, you felt yourself relaxing against her body.  

“Are you still mad at me?” she whispered into your ear before placing a gentle kiss on your bare shoulder. “You know my favorite person. You have nothing to worry about.”  

“Yeah, whatever.” You grumbled. You weren't truly mad anymore but you knew what came next, what Vi did to reassure you that you were special to her. Her only best friend. You weren’t surprised when her hips rocked into your ass, when she pressed her tits against your back nor when her hand traveled underneath your oversized sleep shirt and cupped your breast. 

“Vi…” You sighed nuzzling into the arm underneath your head. She tightened her grip on your breast and rocked her hips into you. You push back harder and soon enough you guys find a rhythm. Your ass pushing down on her hips when she grinds up into you. Her callused palm grazes your nipple and you whine softly. She whimpers into your shoulder, finger going to your nipple when she pulls and twists. You wish her mouth was on you, you wish your mouth was on her. You turn your head to her “I love you the most. My favorite forever.”  

You feel her smile into your shoulder. “You're so beautiful, you know that?” translation: I love you too. 

MEL MEDARDA 

You couldn’t believe it. Your best friend’s tongue was inside of you. Licking you. Her lips were sucking on your clit, her teeth were biting your pussy lips. You could hear how wet you were—you could feel yourself leaking all over her face. “Mel!” You scream out into the dark room before slamming your hands over your own mouth. You don’t want anyone to see you—you don’t want her mother to see you, what a scene she would make. Seeing her daughter nose deep into her childhood best friend. Mel pulls her mouth off your clit with an embarrassingly loud pop. “Do you feel that? This is how you’re supposed to eat pussy darling.” She smiles when you just nod. Afraid that if you remove your hands from your mouth, you might confess something you don’t want.  

Plus, this was just a favor, strictly platonic, you were just friends. That’s why she was eating you out in the first place—you wanted to finally dip your toe into the dating scene but you were scared because you were inexperienced, you didn’t wanna leave your future partners disappointed in your nonexistence skills. And that’s where your best friend came in. Where you didn’t know anything about sex, she knew what felt like everything. Though you never saw her with anyone, she talked like she knew the ins and outs of men and women and she offered to teach you.  

“Now after you use your mouth and get them wet you wanna bring in your fingers, like this.” Mel grabs one of your thighs and pushes it down, giving her a better view of your dripping pussy before using her free hand and pushing a slender finger into you. You gasp. “I know you’ve fingered yourself before sweets, how many fingers have you shoved into this pretty pussy?” 

You whimper, hesitantly removing your hands. “T-two Melly.” You answer bashfully, using the nickname you gave her when you were children. She hums and adds another. You bite your lip, lower abdomen clenching when she curls them into your spongy g-spot. 

“Now pay attention to me alright?” She leans down to place a kiss on your pubs, leaving a trail of light kisses until she reaches your clit. She moves her hand out of you and a fast pace, fingers curling when she knuckles deep. You moan at the feeling of her hand pounding into you.  

She gives your clit a few kitten lips before wrapping her full lips around the swollen area. She bits hard enough for you to wince before she starts sucking. You feel yourself coming apart on her face before you can stop yourself. She hurriedly removes her fingers, mouth sucking you even harder when you feel liquid gush out of you. You grab the back of her head and scream. You can’t stop it, you don’t want to. You throw your thigh over her head and curl your foot into her back, still riding the high. When your pussy stops shooting the mysterious liquid out Mel’s fingers find themselves back inside, four this time. 

You feel tears collecting in the corner of your eyes, as she finger-fucks you. Mel pops back off your abused clit to whisper praises, good girl, you're doing so good, look at how well you take me, you feel heavenly, and when she goes back to playing with your clit you know you don’t want anyone to fuck you unless it’s her. Maybe you can ask her to teach you how to give hickeys next. 

CAITYLYN KIRAMMAN 

You were horny. Cait was horny. You both kept glancing at each other when you thought the other wasn’t looking, sussing out what the other was thinking. The movie you guys were watching was a rating away from being straight porn. When it was over you, both decided to call it a night. It was late she said. You guys had class tomorrow you said. When the lights turned off, you both said goodnight and laid down in your shared bed. You two were so close and loved being near each other that on the first day of the semester you pushed your twin beds together. Oh, how you were regretting that idea now. All you wanted to do was fuck yourself. You knew you weren’t going to fall asleep without an orgasm and so after twenty minutes when you thought Cait was asleep, you found your hand traveling into your boy shorts. You sighed in relief when your fingers grazed your throbbing clit. You rubbed it for a few seconds before shoving two fingers into yourself. 

That relief was short-lived when you heard a breathy moan that didn’t come from you. You tensed up and stopped. When you didn't hear anything—maybe she was making those noise in her sleep—you slowly started to move your fingers in and out, palm rubbing against your clit. You bite your lip to stifle a moan and turn onto your back. You could barely move your fingers in and out lying on your side. You part your legs and moan when you finally hit your G-spot. You're so horny but your imagination isn't cutting it. Opening your eyes you turn your head to find the outline of your best friend who was the star in some of your fantasies, her hourglass figure would for sure spark a fantasy. When your eyes adjust to the dark you're shocked to see Cait staring back at you, her blanket pooling at her hips when you could see her hand abruptly stop moving. Your Cait was masturbating too, in the same bed as you. A grin spreads along your face. 

“I-I’m not—”  

“I am.” You whisper, pushing your blanket off you. Her eyes immediately latch onto where your fingers are slowly pushing in and out. Your other hand comes up to your tank top where you push your shirt down. Your breasts spill out. Cait’s face turns into a tomato, eyes widening even more than they already are. She doesn't remove her gaze from your breasts when she starts fingering herself again. You watch her mouth part into a small O and her eyes roll to the back of her head. You imagine what she looks like riding your face and start to speed up. Your other hand twisting your nipples.  

“I-m gonna..” Cait whimper and spasms for a few seconds. You moan at the look on her face, so pleased with herself, and soon enough you're squeezing your eyes and coming too.  

[novaursa]

Firebound

- Summary: King Viserys I reconsiders whom to give your hand in marriage.

- Pairing: targ!reader/Harwin Strong

- Note: reader is referred to as Y/N, is twin sister of Rhaenyra, is bonded to a dragon and has striking resemblance to her grandmother, Alyssa. These events happen right after Chasing the Inferno. To read all chapters in chronological order, or more of my works, visit my blog. The list is pinned to the top.

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Word count: 5 335

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff

The small council chambers, typically a place of solemn decisions and whispered intrigues, now felt unusually silent as the last of the lords took their leave. King Viserys I Targaryen, his fingers tapping a slow, rhythmic beat on the polished wood of the table, watched them go with only half an eye. His thoughts were elsewhere, tangled in a knot of confusion and reluctant acceptance.

As the heavy wooden doors closed behind the departing council members, only two figures remained in the room. The first, of course, was the king himself, his brow furrowed as he leaned back in his chair. The second was Lord Lyonel Strong, Hand of the King, who was decidedly less relaxed. Lyonel's usual calm and thoughtful demeanor had slipped into something less certain. His hands clasped together tightly on the table before him, and his eyes shifted occasionally to the king, searching for a clue to the nature of this unexpected private audience.

Viserys let the silence stretch, giving him time to gather his thoughts. He knew he had to approach this conversation delicately, but the memory of what he had witnessed at Rhaenyra’s and Laenor’s wedding feast still played vividly in his mind. There had been laughter and merriment, to be sure, but his focus had been split. He had watched with the intent of a father seeking assurance for one daughter, only to find himself worried over another.

The way you and Harwin had slipped from the feast, the looks exchanged between the two of you, had been impossible to ignore. Viserys had spent too much of his attention on Rhaenyra, and now it seemed that you, his other daughter, posed a similar predicament. It was a problem he had not foreseen, though he supposed he should have. After all, you were Targaryen through and through, with the fire in your blood as surely as your twin sister. But fire, as Viserys well knew, was a tricky thing to control.

He sighed, finally breaking the silence. "Lord Lyonel," he began, his tone far softer than it usually was in these chambers, "I find myself in need of counsel of a rather... delicate nature."

Lyonel’s eyes narrowed slightly, though he gave a courteous nod. "I am at your service, Your Grace, as always."

Viserys allowed himself a faint smile at the Hand’s careful response. "You are a wise man, Lyonel. A man of honor, integrity... and, I hope, discretion."

"Discretion is often the better part of honor, Your Grace," Lyonel replied, though his voice betrayed a hint of nervousness. It was not often the king prefaced a conversation in such a way.

Viserys straightened in his chair, his gaze fixing firmly on Lyonel’s face. "Tell me, Lyonel... what is your opinion of my daughter? Y/N, that is."

There it was, the question that had been eating away at him. He saw the flicker of surprise in Lyonel’s eyes, quickly masked, but not quickly enough. It confirmed what he already suspected: Lyonel knew something.

"Princess Y/N is..." Lyonel hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "She is a lady of great spirit, much like her sister. She carries herself with the grace and strength one would expect of a Targaryen. She is... much admired."

"Admired," Viserys echoed, his voice carrying a subtle note of amusement. "Yes, I have seen as much."

Lyonel shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable under the king’s scrutiny. "Your Grace, if I may ask... what troubles you about the princess?"

Viserys considered his next words carefully. He could not afford to be blunt, not when the matter at hand was so precarious. But subtlety had never been his strong suit, and the memory of that stolen glance between you and Harwin gnawed at him.

"Lyonel, your son..." Viserys began, and immediately saw the flash of recognition in Lyonel’s eyes. "He is a good man. Strong, loyal, capable. A man who has served the crown well."

"Harwin is a good man," Lyonel agreed, though the tension in his voice was palpable now. "He is... devoted to his duties."

"Devoted, yes." Viserys leaned forward, lowering his voice. "And devoted, it seems, to my daughter."

Lyonel’s eyes widened slightly, but he did not speak. Viserys watched him, watched as the Hand’s thoughts churned behind his eyes, undoubtedly recalling every conversation he’d had with his son about this very matter. Lyonel had likely hoped this day would never come, but Viserys was not a man to ignore the truth when it was placed before him so plainly.

"Your Grace..." Lyonel began, his voice heavy with apprehension, "I assure you, whatever my son has done, it was never his intention to... to dishonor the princess."

Viserys held up a hand to stop him. "There is no dishonor in love, Lyonel. Not if it is true."

Lyonel blinked, clearly caught off guard. He had likely expected anger, outrage even, but Viserys had already fought that battle within himself. What remained now was a father’s desire to see his daughter happy—and safe.

"Your Grace..." Lyonel started again, more cautiously this time, "are you suggesting...?"

"I am," Viserys interrupted, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "You once mentioned a potential match between Harwin and Y/N. At the time, I dismissed it. My mind was too focused on securing alliances, on ensuring the strength of the crown. But now... now I see the wisdom in what you proposed."

Lyonel stared at the king, clearly dumbfounded. It took him a moment to gather his wits. "Your Grace, are you certain? A match between Harwin and the princess... it is not what most would expect."

"Perhaps not," Viserys admitted with a soft chuckle. "But it is what I believe would be best. Harwin, if what you say is true, cares for her. And I have granted Rhaenyra the courtesy of choosing her own match... it would be unfair to deny Y/N the same."

Lyonel remained silent, his expression a mixture of shock and something close to relief. The king’s decision was a blessing he had not anticipated, a chance to save both his son and the princess from scandal and perhaps, just perhaps, to see them happy.

"Harwin will be... most honored, Your Grace," Lyonel finally managed, bowing his head deeply. "I did not expect... that is, I am surprised by your generosity."

"Generosity," Viserys mused, leaning back in his chair once more. "Perhaps. Or perhaps I am simply weary of the politics, of the endless games. My daughter’s happiness... it means more to me than any alliance."

Lyonel nodded, though he still seemed somewhat dazed by the turn of events. "I shall inform Harwin of your decision, Your Grace. I know it will bring him great joy."

"See that you do," Viserys said, his voice carrying a note of finality. "And Lyonel, if Harwin wishes to speak with me... to assure me of his intentions... he is welcome to do so."

"Of course, Your Grace," Lyonel replied, rising from his seat with a deep bow. "I shall see to it at once."

As Lyonel turned to leave, Viserys allowed himself a small, satisfied smile. The matter was settled, and while he knew that the path ahead would not be without its challenges, he felt a sense of peace. He had done right by his daughter—both of them, in fact.

As the door closed behind Lyonel, Viserys leaned back in his chair, his thoughts drifting to the future. There would be more battles to fight, more decisions to make, but for now, he could rest easy knowing that he had given his daughter a chance at happiness.

And perhaps, in the end, that was all a father could truly hope for.

Lyonel Strong left the small council chambers with a brisk pace, though the thoughts swirling in his head made his steps feel almost unsteady. The king’s words echoed in his ears, and the disbelief that had settled in his gut still gnawed at him. It was one thing to hope for an impossible outcome, quite another to have it handed to you by the king himself. 

He moved through the Red Keep with purpose, nodding absently to those he passed, though his mind was entirely elsewhere. His destination was clear—he needed to find his son. Harwin had always been a steady rock, reliable and strong, but this... this news was bound to shake even him.

As Lyonel reached the courtyard, where Harwin often trained, the sound of steel clashing on steel rang out. Harwin was sparring with a few other men, his muscular form moving with the practiced ease of someone who had spent a lifetime wielding a sword. Lyonel paused for a moment, watching his son parry and strike with a fierce focus that made him proud, even now. But there was no time for fatherly admiration—this was a conversation that needed to happen immediately.

“Harwin,” Lyonel called out, his voice carrying across the courtyard.

Harwin disengaged from his sparring partner, wiping the sweat from his brow as he turned to see his father striding towards him. He handed his sword to one of the onlookers and moved to meet Lyonel, a curious smile on his face.

“Father,” Harwin greeted him, still catching his breath. “You seem... troubled.”

“Troubled?” Lyonel shook his head, though there was a hint of a smile playing on his lips now. “No, Harwin. Troubled is not the word. I’ve just come from the king.”

At this, Harwin’s expression shifted to one of concern. “The king? Is something amiss?”

Lyonel sighed, a mix of exasperation and amusement. “Not in the way you think. But it concerns you, and the princess.”

Harwin stiffened slightly, a wariness creeping into his eyes. “What about the princess?”

Lyonel took a deep breath, knowing that his son was not going to believe what he was about to say. “The king has decided to grant you a boon, Harwin. He has agreed... to a marriage between you and Princess Y/N.”

There was a moment of silence as Harwin stared at his father, blinking as if he hadn’t quite heard correctly. “A marriage? To Y/N? Father, that’s... that’s not something to jest about.”

“I am not jesting,” Lyonel replied, his tone serious, though there was a glimmer of humor in his eyes. “The king himself proposed it. It seems he noticed more at Rhaenyra’s wedding than we thought. The match is to be made.”

Harwin continued to stare, clearly processing the information. “You’re serious,” he finally said, though it sounded more like a question.

“As serious as the Iron Throne,” Lyonel affirmed, his voice taking on a more reassuring tone. “The king believes it to be the best course, and he has given his blessing. He’s even suggested that you speak with him, to ensure your intentions are true.”

Harwin let out a short laugh, though it was more of disbelief than amusement. “My intentions... true? I’ve been trying to hide my intentions for years, Father! I’ve done everything I could to ensure that the princess’s honor remained intact. And now, the king wants me to confess it all?”

Lyonel smiled, though there was a note of sympathy in his expression. “It seems the king is more perceptive than we gave him credit for. He’s seen the way you look at her, Harwin. And, it seems, he’s not entirely displeased.”

Harwin shook his head, running a hand through his damp hair. “This is... this is madness. I never thought...” He trailed off, clearly overwhelmed by the turn of events.

“Madness, perhaps,” Lyonel agreed, “but it’s the king’s will. And I would think you’d be pleased, Harwin. I know you care for her—perhaps more than you’ve admitted, even to yourself.”

Harwin looked at his father, the disbelief slowly giving way to something warmer, something more hopeful. “You’re certain of this? That the king truly means it?”

Lyonel nodded. “As certain as I can be, Harwin. The king is offering you his daughter’s hand. He’s offering you a future with the woman you love. I’d say that’s a rare gift.”

Harwin let out a long breath, his thoughts spinning as he tried to grasp the reality of it. “I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” Lyonel replied, placing a hand on his son’s shoulder. “But you will need to speak to the king. He’s invited you to do so, and I’d suggest you take him up on that offer. This is not something to delay.”

Harwin nodded, though there was still a hint of that disbelief in his eyes. “I will speak with him. But, Father... this feels like a dream. One that could vanish if I’m not careful.”

“Then be careful,” Lyonel said with a chuckle. “But don’t be afraid to take what is offered to you. This is the chance you’ve been waiting for, Harwin. And if you don’t seize it, I can assure you, the king won’t wait long to change his mind.”

Harwin nodded again, this time with more resolve. “I’ll speak with him. And... thank you, Father. For whatever part you played in this.”

Lyonel smiled, squeezing Harwin’s shoulder. “I only spoke the truth. The rest was in the hands of the gods—and the king.”

Harwin managed a smile of his own, though it was tinged with nervous energy. “Then I suppose I have a king to thank.”

“Indeed you do,” Lyonel said, stepping back. “And Harwin... don’t let your nerves get the better of you. You’ve faced down worse than an audience with the king.”

Harwin let out a short laugh, though it was clear his thoughts were already racing ahead to that impending conversation. “Worse, perhaps, but never more important.”

With a nod, Lyonel turned to leave, giving his son a final, reassuring glance. “Good luck, Harwin. And remember, this is what you’ve always wanted.”

Harwin watched his father go, the reality of the situation finally starting to sink in. He had always known that his feelings for you were dangerous, that they could lead to ruin if ever discovered. But now, with the king’s blessing, what had seemed an impossible dream was suddenly within reach.

It was madness, certainly. But it was a madness he was more than willing to embrace.

As Harwin stood there in the courtyard, his mind filled with thoughts of you—your laughter, your strength, the way your eyes seemed to spark with the same fire that burned in your dragon—he knew one thing for certain.

This was no dream. This was his future. And he would fight for it with every ounce of strength he possessed.

Harwin Strong was not a man easily shaken. He had faced down countless foes in the training yard, stood firm in the heat of battle, and bore the nickname “Breakbones” as a badge of his unyielding strength. Yet now, as he made his way to the king’s chambers, he felt a knot of anxiety twisting in his gut, tighter with each step.

He had known this moment would come eventually, though he had never imagined it would unfold like this. When he was with you, everything seemed to fade away—the weight of his duties, the expectations placed upon him, even the potential consequences of your secret meetings. But now, with Viserys himself summoning him, Harwin could not ignore the reality any longer. The king knew.

The guards outside the king’s private chambers stepped aside as Harwin approached, announcing his arrival with a simple nod. The heavy wooden doors creaked open, revealing the modest yet regal room beyond. King Viserys sat at a table near the hearth, a goblet of wine in his hand, his expression contemplative as he stared into the flickering flames.

Harwin took a deep breath, willing himself to remain calm as he stepped inside. The door closed behind him with a soft thud, leaving him alone with the king. Viserys looked up, a slight smile crossing his lips as he saw Harwin approach.

“Ser Harwin,” Viserys greeted him, gesturing for him to sit. “Come, sit with me. There is much to discuss.”

Harwin inclined his head respectfully before taking the offered seat. His heart pounded in his chest, but he forced himself to meet the king’s gaze, knowing that this was not a moment to falter.

“Your Grace,” Harwin began, his voice steady despite the turmoil within him, “I am honored to be summoned by you.”

Viserys waved a hand dismissively. “No need for formalities, Harwin. We are not in the council chambers now. This is a matter between a king and a man who has served him well.”

Harwin nodded, though he felt the weight of Viserys’s words. There was no escaping the significance of this conversation, no matter how the king framed it.

Viserys took a sip of his wine, watching Harwin over the rim of his goblet. “Lyonel has likely informed you of my decision regarding my daughter.”

“He has, Your Grace,” Harwin replied, keeping his tone measured. “I must admit, I was... surprised by your generosity.”

“Generosity,” Viserys mused, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Perhaps. Or perhaps I simply recognize what is right before me.” He set the goblet down on the table, leaning forward slightly. “Tell me, Harwin—how long has this been going on?”

Harwin’s heart skipped a beat. This was the question he had dreaded, the one that would force him to confront the truth he had kept hidden for so long. He hesitated for a moment, searching for the right words, but found none that could soften the blow.

“For some time now, Your Grace,” Harwin admitted, his voice quieter now. “I did not intend for it to happen... but I could not deny what I felt.”

Viserys’s expression remained unreadable as he listened. “And what is it that you feel, Harwin? What is it that has driven you to take such risks?”

Harwin swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. “I love her, Your Grace,” he said, the words coming out more easily than he had expected. “I love her more than I have ever loved anything or anyone in my life. I know it was not my place, but... it is the truth.”

Viserys leaned back in his chair, regarding Harwin with a mixture of curiosity and something else—something softer, more understanding. “Love is a dangerous thing, Harwin. It can be a source of great strength, but it can also lead to ruin. I’ve seen it happen more times than I care to count.”

“I know, Your Grace,” Harwin replied, his voice firm despite the vulnerability he felt. “I have tried to protect her, to ensure that no harm comes to her because of our... relationship. But I know that I may have failed in that.”

Viserys sighed, his gaze drifting back to the fire. “I should have seen it sooner. I focused too much on Rhaenyra, on her future, and I neglected to see what was happening with Y/N. I thought I could control everything, that I could arrange her future as easily as I arranged her sister’s. But the truth is, I cannot control matters of the heart.”

Harwin remained silent, sensing that the king was working through his own thoughts as much as he was addressing him.

Viserys’s eyes flicked back to Harwin, sharp and probing. “Do you know how I came to realize the nature of your relationship with my daughter?”

Harwin’s blood ran cold at the question, but he forced himself to nod. “At the wedding feast, Your Grace?”

Viserys let out a short, dry laugh. “Yes, at the wedding feast. But not just because you both slipped away, though that certainly drew my attention. No, Harwin, it was the way you looked at her. The way you looked at each other. You can tell a great deal about a man by how he looks at the woman he loves.”

Harwin felt his face flush, but he did not look away. “I did not mean to be so obvious, Your Grace. But... I could not help it.”

Viserys waved a hand dismissively. “There is no shame in it, Harwin. You are not the first man to be caught in the thrall of love, and you will not be the last. But I must know—can you be the husband she needs? The husband a princess deserves?”

Harwin straightened, his resolve hardening. “I swear to you, Your Grace, I will do everything in my power to protect her, to care for her. She means more to me than anything. I would die before I let any harm come to her.”

Viserys studied him for a long moment, as if weighing his words. Finally, he nodded, seemingly satisfied. “I believe you, Harwin. You have served the crown well, and you have shown your strength and loyalty time and again. I believe you will make a good husband to my daughter. But remember this—your love for her will be tested. You must be strong enough to withstand whatever comes your way.”

“I understand, Your Grace,” Harwin replied, his voice filled with determination. “I will not fail her. Or you.”

Viserys nodded, his expression softening ever so slightly. “Then it is settled. You will be wed, and I will see to it that the arrangements are made quickly. There is no need to delay what is inevitable.”

Harwin let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, relief washing over him. “Thank you, Your Grace. I am... honored by your trust.”

“Honor and trust are fragile things, Harwin,” Viserys said, his voice tinged with a note of warning. “Do not take them for granted.”

“I will not, Your Grace,” Harwin assured him, his voice steady.

Viserys nodded, rising from his seat with a weary sigh. “You may go, Harwin. But remember, this is only the beginning. The road ahead will not be easy, but if your love is true, you will find your way.”

Harwin stood as well, bowing deeply. “Thank you, Your Grace. I will not forget your words.”

As Harwin turned to leave, Viserys spoke once more, his voice softer, more reflective. “Harwin... I hope you understand the gravity of what you’re undertaking. You are not just marrying a woman; you are marrying into the Targaryen legacy. There will be expectations, pressures... and dangers. But if you truly love her, if you are as devoted as you claim to be, then you will find the strength to face them all.”

Harwin paused at the door, turning back to face the king one last time. “I will, Your Grace. For her, I will find the strength to face anything.”

Viserys gave him a small, almost imperceptible nod. “Good. Then go, and prepare yourself. You have much to do.”

With that, Harwin left the king’s chambers, the weight of what had just transpired settling heavily on his shoulders. But beneath that weight was a sense of purpose, of clarity. For years, he had hidden his love, guarded it like a secret treasure. Now, that love had been given the chance to flourish, to become something more.

And though he knew the road ahead would be fraught with challenges, Harwin felt a fierce determination burning within him. He would marry you, he would protect you, and he would ensure that the love you shared would stand the test of time.

As he made his way back through the corridors of the Red Keep, Harwin allowed himself a small, private smile. The most difficult conversation of his life was now behind him, and with it came the promise of a future he had only dared to dream of.

He would make that future a reality, no matter what it took.

The corridors of the Red Keep seemed to blur as Harwin made his way to your private chambers. His heart was pounding, but not with fear or anxiety as it had been earlier—now, it was filled with a heady mix of excitement and anticipation. The king’s blessing, the prospect of marriage, the realization that the love he had kept hidden for so long was finally allowed to flourish openly—all of it felt almost too good to be true. But it was true, and Harwin could hardly contain himself.

He reached the door to your chambers, pausing for just a moment to steady himself. He had always approached you with caution before, always mindful of the delicate balance they had to maintain. But now... now, everything was different. He could finally tell you how he truly felt, with no fear of repercussions, no need for secrecy.

Harwin knocked lightly on the door, waiting just long enough to hear your voice bidding him to enter before pushing it open.

You were standing by the window, the late afternoon sun casting a warm glow over your form. When you turned and saw him, a smile broke across your face—a smile that sent a thrill through him, knowing that soon you would be his, and he yours, in every way that mattered.

“Harwin,” you greeted him, your voice light and filled with affection as you crossed the room to meet him. “I didn’t expect to see you so soon. Has something happened?”

“Something has happened,” Harwin replied, his smile widening as he reached out to take your hands in his. “Something wonderful.”

You tilted your head slightly, curiosity alight in your eyes. “Tell me, then. What is it?”

Harwin took a deep breath, his heart swelling with the words he was about to say. “I’ve just come from the king. He has given us his blessing. We are to be married.”

The look on your face was priceless—shock, disbelief, and then an overwhelming joy that made your eyes shine. “Married?” you repeated, as if you couldn’t quite believe it.

“Yes,” Harwin confirmed, his hands tightening around yours. “He knows about us, about our feelings, and he has agreed to our match. We will be wed, Y/N. We will be together.”

For a moment, you simply stared at him, the reality of his words sinking in. Then, with a sudden, joyful laugh, you threw your arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight embrace. Harwin responded immediately, wrapping his arms around you and holding you close, reveling in the warmth of your body against his.

“I can’t believe it,” you whispered against his shoulder, your voice filled with emotion. “I never thought... I never dreamed this would happen.”

“Neither did I,” Harwin murmured, burying his face in your hair and breathing in your familiar scent. “But it’s real, Y/N. It’s happening. We don’t have to hide anymore. We don’t have to pretend.”

You pulled back just enough to look up at him, your eyes bright with unshed tears. “I’m so happy, Harwin. I’ve wanted this for so long... I love you.”

Harwin’s heart skipped a beat at the words, though he had known them to be true long before you ever spoke them aloud. “And I love you, Y/N. More than anything in this world.”

For a moment, the two of you simply stood there, holding each other, letting the reality of your impending marriage settle over you. There was a sense of relief, of joy, but also an undercurrent of anticipation, of the future that now stretched out before you—one that you would face together.

Finally, Harwin cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing gently over your cheeks as he looked down at you. “There’s nothing I want more than to spend my life with you. To be the man who stands by your side, who loves and protects you. And now... now we have that chance.”

You smiled up at him, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “And what will you do with that chance, Ser Harwin?”

Harwin grinned, his heart swelling with love and desire. “I’ll make you the happiest woman in the Seven Kingdoms,” he vowed, his voice low and filled with promise. “I’ll love you every day, with everything I have.”

Your smile softened, and you reached up to brush a strand of hair away from his face. “Then kiss me, Harwin. Kiss me as if we’re already wed.”

He didn’t need any more encouragement. Leaning down, Harwin captured your lips with his, the kiss starting soft and tender, but quickly growing more passionate as the reality of your impending union fueled his desire. His hands moved from your face to your waist, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss, pouring all the love and longing he had felt for you into that one, searing connection.

You responded eagerly, your hands sliding up his chest to grip his shoulders, your body pressing against his as if you couldn’t get close enough. The kiss was everything he had ever wanted—intimate, intense, filled with the promise of a future together.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting against each other as you struggled to catch your breath. Harwin’s hands roamed up and down your sides, as if reassuring himself that you were truly there, that this was truly happening.

“I’ve dreamed of this,” you whispered, your voice soft and filled with emotion. “Of being with you, without fear, without having to hide. And now it’s real.”

“It’s real,” Harwin echoed, his voice husky with the depth of his feelings. “And it’s just the beginning. We have so much to look forward to, Y/N. So many moments like this.”

You smiled, your eyes shining with love as you reached up to touch his face again. “Then let’s make this moment count,” you said, your voice filled with a playful challenge. “Show me how much you love me, Harwin.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. With a growl of desire, Harwin captured your lips again, his hands sliding down to your hips as he pressed you back against the wall. The kiss was hungrier this time, more desperate, as if he was trying to make up for all the time you had spent apart, all the moments you had stolen in secret.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as you returned the kiss with equal fervor, your body arching against his. The heat between you was undeniable, a fire that had been kindling for years, now finally allowed to burn freely.

Harwin’s hands slid down to your thighs, lifting you effortlessly as he pressed you against the wall, your legs wrapping around his waist. You gasped against his lips, your hands gripping his shoulders for support, but there was no fear, no hesitation—only a shared, burning desire.

“I want you,” Harwin whispered against your lips, his voice rough with need. “I’ve always wanted you.”

“And you shall have me,” you replied, your voice equally breathless as you clung to him. “All of me, Harwin. Now and always.”

The intensity of your words, the truth of them, sent a thrill through Harwin, and he captured your lips once more, the kiss growing more frenzied as his hands roamed over your body. Every touch, every caress, was a promise of what was to come—a future filled with love, passion, and the unbreakable bond you shared.

The world outside your chambers faded away, leaving only the two of you, lost in each other, in the love that had been denied for so long but was now free to flourish. It was a moment of pure, unfiltered joy—a moment that neither of you would ever forget.

And as Harwin held you close, his heart swelling with love and anticipation, he knew that this was just the beginning. Your future together was bright, and he would cherish every moment of it, starting with this one.

In the quiet of your chambers, with the sun casting its golden light over the two of you, Harwin finally allowed himself to believe in the happiness that was now within his grasp. And as he kissed you again, slow and tender this time, he knew that he would spend the rest of his life making sure you felt that same happiness, every single day.

[kangmoon27]

The Boy | Jungkook ff

Pairing: Bhrams Yandere Jungkook x babysitter Y/n

Summary: they paid you a huge amount of money just to babysit their son who turned out to be a doll named kookie not knowing the real kookie is actually all grown up and living behind the walls where he always watches you.

You're the new babysitter and a caretaker of the house of Jeon. You though it's just a normal thing but when you got to know who you're supposed to babysit. You're shivering in fear.

You saw a doll sitting on the chair. Height as a five years old kid and to your surprise the doll is the one that you will babysit. Feed him, bath him, get him to sleep but could a doll even do that?.

Well you couldn't complain more. The money offer is huge and you couldn't afford to be payed that much even if you will have 5 part time job.

It's been a month since you're staying here. You can say it's creepy. The whole vibes is little got you shivering in fear. The noises from the walls. The way the doll is changing position and sit on other places as if it can walk on its own and your clothes that always went missing. It's crazy. You wanted to leave but their is something that always stops you.

You came back to the kitchen after collecting the groceries that Malcon dropped and as always. You found the place empty when you're pretty sure you filled it with a lot of foods.

Walking to the doll and stare at it. Sighing before you grabbed the table napkin from his lap and wipe his mouth on it. You turn around and unpack the groceries when you suddenly felt a present of a person standing behind you.

Hesitantly, you turn around and found no one. No one even the doll. It always happen but yet it's still terrifying. You wanted to cry and leave but you just can't. Your feet seems like stuck in this house.

You slowly made your way to the living room and saw the doll sitting on the piano chair. Looking at the clock you find out that it's time for you to play piano for him. Slowly making your way next to him and sat.

You hummed while playing piano. Closing your eyes and started feeling the remedy, it's making your brain relax for a bit. Just then the wall made a huge noise as if someone just bang behind it.

You quickly get up and grabbed the doll along with you. Your breath started hitching, your heart is beating too fast. You heard foot steps, each and every step is making a huge bang. You can say it's like a huge person is running behind the empty walls.

The running foot steps fades away. Walking upstairs and went inside your room while holding the doll in your hand. Putting him down on the chair behind closing your eyes in frustration. You're so scared.

Soon you open your eyes and found the doll staring at you. Slowly walking towards it and grab him, putting him up high before asking. "What the fck are you tryin do huh? Are you doing this could you wanted me to leave? Fine!! It's that's what you want then I'm leaving!!. I'm done!!."

You throw the doll away as you grab your luggage Under your bed. You place it in your bed and walk towards the closet. Before you could even pick up you clothes. The room of your bedroom shut making you startled.

Staring in horror you found the doll already missing from your sigh then the banging on the walls started. Your eyes is filled with tears. You sat on the corner of the room crying, hugging yourself while covering your ears.

"S-stop. Stop!! I said stop I'll stay!! Please, I won't go anywhere just please stop!! I'll stay!!" As soon as you said you will stay the banging sound stop.

You cried silently. The door of your bedroom slowly open and saw him sitting Infront of your room. You wipe your tears away and walk towards him. Picking him up behind going to his bedroom and put him to sleep.

Closing the book after finishing his bedtime stories. You pick up the blanket and cover the boy doll with it before placing a kiss on his forehead.

You look at him for the last time. Wondering if it's posses or what but you knew there is something about this doll that keeps on getting in your nerves.

"Good night kookie" you sigh and get up from the bed. You look at him for the last before closing the door behind you.

As soon as you entered your room you saw the bathroom light is on so you walk towards it and attempt to switch it off but before you could even do it. You found your used clothes again missing not only your clothes but also your undergarments.

You search everywhere but there's nothing. You found nothing.

Meanwhile. A man with a mask is laying on his dirty bed next to the pillow that is dressed up with your favorite red dress that he stoled.

He's been living behind the walls for years since he's only five years old till now that he's grown man. The incident really changed his life. He accidentally k'lled his childhood friend and burn down their house that made everyone thought he's already gone but he isn't. He's fully alive and now a grown man but his existence is hidden that his parents made a doll that looks like him and eventually treated it like their own child while the real kookie is living behind the walls

He's breathing heavily face is covered with sweat under his mask. Trying so hard to not make any loud noise nor m'an out while his huge veiny hand wrapped around his l'ngth. It also added pleasure as your freshly used undergarment is Under his nose smelling it while pumping himself upwards and down.

"U-ughhh Y-yn more" he keep on m'aning while tightening his grip on his c'ck as he continuesly moving his fist up sidd down.

His groan gets louder after feeling himself c'mming. Soon a white liquor squish out of his m'mber making his breath heavenly. A soft chuckles came out of his mouth after making himself reach his high.

He sniff your undergarments and smiled. He turn around and kiss the pillow that he dress up like you while imagining it is you. H get up and made his way to your room inside the wall and peek through the small hole where he watches you sleeping.

To be continue

[Yes this is my version of the "the boy" movie. I just really really love the yandere idea of that movie and I'm literally obsessed with it!!]

Second Part

[thisismeracing]

PLEASE write a fic/blurb about how to mentioned the idea of staying up for mick to get home after his long night in the sim and just cuddling and comforting him and listening to him rant 🙏🏾

I love it when you guys read my tags and bring something out of them hahahah ❤️ I adjusted the idea a bit, hope u like it!

Based on my reaction to the sim work video (here)

word count: 0.6k

pairing: mick schumacher x reader (she/her pronouns)

warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, not proofread, mentions of food, and lack of sleep.

It was past two AM when Mick got home after the whole day at the Merc factory doing sim work with the team. He was tired, although he had a can or two of an energy drink, almost giving up and adding a cup of coffee to the list by the end of the night.

The apartment was silent when he unlocked the door, most of the lights were switched off, except for a small lamp between the living room exit and the kitchen entrance, the flickering light illuminating the corridor that took him to the bedroom. Yn would always leave a light or two for him, and it warmed his heart, it felt like her saying she thought of him before going to bed, that she knew he would come home to her before the sun was up in the sky.

Mick made his way to the bedroom, stopping by the threshold. Right in the middle of the bed, Yn was sound asleep cuddling one of his pillows, her hair in a satin bonnet to protect the braids she got recently, her phone still between her fingers probably waiting for a message or call from him.

He smiled.

Nothing would ever beat coming home to her.

He was exhausted, his head pounding and his body full of knots, but seeing her there, just taking a look at her, was enough to lift half of the weight of the world from his shoulders.

Mick made quick work of taking off his clothes and climbing into bed beside her. Yn stirred when the mattress dipped and she felt the familiar warmth engulf her body. In her hazy sleepy state, eyes still closed, she extended her arms looking for any limb she could grab and hug. Her boyfriend chuckled lightly and positioned half of her on top of him, her hands quickly finding his torso and shoulders.

"What time do you leave?" she mumbled, pecking his chest.

Mick sighed, drawing patterns on her dark skin.

"In a couple hours."

"Wake me up when you do, we are still supposed to have breakfast together," she reminded the German and he kissed her forehead before weariness knocked them out.

It was just three hours later when Mick woke up. He tried his best to leave the bed without waking Yn, but the second his body shifted to move her, she opened her eyes.

"We can have breakfast tomorrow, Liebe, it's not a problem," he whispered, easing her back into bed, but Yn sat up rubbings the sleep out of her eyes.

"I can go back to sleep once you leave, let's enjoy our hour together, mkey?"

He smiled, and although the morning was a bit cold, his body and heart felt warmer than ever.

Yn helped Mick check all his documents and small stuff he tended to forget at home, and they cooked a quick breakfast together, all while he ranted about last night's sim work and how excited he was for the race later today. Yn listened attentively, eyes never leaving him. Every once in a while she would drop a comment or hmm in agreement, but Mick did most of the talking and she took the time to enjoy the gleam in his eyes while talking about what he loved, his relaxed posture though his body was visibly tired.

She loved to be on the receiving end of that passionate talk, especially when breakfast was finished and they sat in the living room to eat and cuddle.

When it was time Mick left for the airport and promised to text her as soon as he landed. She knew he would because he always did. And just like that she went to sleep with the lights on again, knowing that in the morning he would be back home to her.

taglist: @sachaa-ff @ferrariloverr @mellowpizzapuppy @kenanlotus0 @mickslover @dalsuwaha @formulakay3 @mishaandthebrits @iloveyou3000morgan @crimeshowjunkie @chaoticevilbakugo @carojasmin2204 @wondergirl101ks @smiithys

[thesamoanqueen]

Happiest Girl

Raiting: 18+

Warnings: SMUT; Fluff(?); Choking, Spanking.

A/N: it was supposed to be a tender and romantic ff, but Y/N has lost control so... nasties

She never woke up so early. But it had happened that morning, and she wouldn't regret it for the world, because Roman was there.

After months, next to her, occupying almost the entire bed and sleeping. His hair curled all over the place, his breathing relaxed and that hoarse gurgle, sort of like a hibernating bear that Y/N had joked about every time they'd slept together for the last year. He was there, motionless, with one arm firmly anchored on her side, even though he was on his stomach, holding her from a run she woud never attempt.

She never got tired of Roman, never felt disappointed or regretted something with him. And maybe she should have, maybe that break before WM should have taught her something, maybe what they have was too much, but this was where she always wanted to be, this was the feeling Y/N always wanted to feel. She was happy. Sincerely and purely happy as a little girl.

Life had taught her with hard lessons to value things. And this reason, she had given value and weight to everything, especially to herself and she had always kept feet firmly on the ground even when could have let go and waited for the flow to carry her. She had held on to him too, she had tried not to expect anything, see things only for what they were, but Roman had pulled her down mercilessly.

And she was happy that he did so. She was so infinitely happy…

She kissed his cheekbone and another kiss on his nose, receiving a murmur from him that widened her smile. Fingers worked their way through his dark hair, moving a couple of strands finished on his face to give him another soft kiss on his forehead and another on the shoulder. She continued on his stubbled cheek, one more and another one, lightly, but quicly, until Y/N found his mouth shushing his gurgling. Roman mumbled something and Y/N laughed softly against his big shoulder, watching him move a bit in the covers when he no longer felt her under his arm.

He was incredibly clingy to her if they were alone. Made him nervous not keeping his hands on her, but that day it was her turn and so, Y/N ran her fingers over him, working her way up Roman’s arm and up to his back. Slowly, she climbed on top of him, careful not putting too much pressure on his back where doctors had placed bands to help him recover. Her hands began to trace the line of the tattoo, massaging muscles and planting kisses on his skin, up to the nape of his neck. For a long moment, eyes closed, Y/N breathed his scent and listened to his breath, hands that kept stroking between his shoulder blades.

- … right there – he mumbled against the pillow, voice even hoarse than usual and Y/N straightened up a bit, stopping immediately for spite.

- I thought it was impossible to wake you up

-There's power in those hands of yours – he said after a second, a little more awake than before, turning heavily, to look at her.

His face was beaten from sleep, but still straddling him, Y/N couldn't find a reason to stop looking him straight in the eyes. The same eyes that had already regained their sparkle and were now holding her own, still and hungry, like the night he had refused to listen her doubts.

- Just my hands? please… my hands…- Y/N joked, caressing his chest, while his fingers roamed slowly on her thighs, up and down - my hair… - magic undone curls that swayed on her back following the head movement - my lips…

She smiled, leaning into him for a new kiss, her back arching naturally as she felt Roman moving over her thighs and the hem of her – his – shirt, worn to sleep. He squeezed her soft hips, grabbing her ass shortly after and Y/N moaned inside his mouth, giving him permission to enter and explore. She rocked slowly, circling only with her hips, his morning boner pressing against her and tongue caressing hers. Her belly was already heating up, a reaction that she couldn't control with him and lost in that sensation, Y/N shamelessly sucked his tongue, pulling his bottom lip between her teeth when the need for air became for both of them too much. Roman grinned, hands still caressing her rounded buttocks and Y/N quickly gave him another kiss.

- Pretty confident, huh?

-Im happy – she admitted, feeling a strange discharge go through her body, seeing him lighten up at that revelation and she straightened up, slowly scratching his abs -… so dont you dare messing up things, ya understand?

She trusted him and her good purpose on that relationship . Still it seemed absurd, however, that after the only crisis between them, after having tried by all means to keep things as they were, they had come to that point. And now, now that she really had it, she didn't want to let go of him. She didn't want to lose him.

Roman nodded slowly, hands squeezing hers for a moment, then moving again to rock her back a bit and sink into her bare hips.

- There was actually something I was planning to messing up – he confessed, scanning her with his brown gaze and Y/N stifled the smile to give him a menacing one.

- You better do it – she threatened, leaning down to kiss him once more.

She felt him laughing against her lips, eyes following her, as she slid down in a trail of kisses.

- You liking a lit bit too much this bossie role, babygirl. You lucky you're cute.

The slap on her ass made Y/N jump and she looked up at him, who hadn't moved at all, but was now caressing her skin right where he'd struck.

It was all she wanted. Everything she had always looked for. Nasty sex and someone to hold her. A kiss on her forehead, that would give nothing to him and nothing to her, except care and comfort. Laughing after being eaten and losing her voice. Knowing she could be alone, but feel better when he was around. Have power and still be willing to drop to her knees to see that sparkle on his eyes. Someone who treated her as she deserved, with respect and loyalty, without forcing her to ask and who also knew when to throw her somewhere and make her forget everything.

With itchy skin, she slid further down, kissing his stomach and abs, slow and tenacious, every inch down to the strip of hair that emerged from the sheet. She felt his hands come up from her, caressing her ribs slowly, exposing her lower body, still naked after the night. The air against her cunt sent a pleasant shiver up her stomach, her back now fully arched, as fingers pulled away the last barrier between them to finally release his manhood. Roman stroked his thumb down her cheek and Y/N brought her eyes back to him, licking the length of his shaft and bringing out a different gurgle from him. Without depriving him of her attention, Y/N licked her lips and took him into her hand, his hot weight warming her all over and making her hips rock.

- I want you all - she whispered against his tip and Roman pursed his full lips, watching her hungrily swallow more than half of him without problems.

- Take me

The taste of him flooded her mouth, as unmistakable as the quickening breath and the heat building in the pit of her stomach. She scratched her nails up his strong thighs and up his sides over Roman’abs, sucking on him and feeling his hardness increase against her tongue. She focused on the head, moaning as he dug his hand into her hair, growling menacingly at the treatment.

-Like that-

Y/N shivered over him in amusement, her throat almost taking him all, her tongue rubbing against the protruding veins. She felt him tug at the new sensation again, this time encouraging her to do more and she bobbed her head up and down, eating him hungrily, sucking him dry, not slowing until Roman throbbed inside her mouth, precum messing her tongue. Y/N pulled back with a loud pop, pledging to suck him one last time, hard, before standing up again and seeing him swinging in front of her, shiny and fully hard.

She bit her lip, satisfied and proud, but the warmth inside her body was too much to remain admiring her work and her hands went to the edge of the shirt was wearing, making it pass over her head.

-Ya definetly have a talent for this – Roman noted, staring at her as she brushed hair off her shoulders and pressed his lower stomach to stand up.

- Strip? - slowly, she slid forward, her center leaving a wet trail on his thighs.

- Drive me crazy

The hunger in his voice left no room for doubt and as she felt his fingers on her round ass, squeezing and spreading to help her take him, a new shiver made her body vibrate in anticipation.

- Good…-she murmured hot, climbing on top of him -… cause I want you addicted big boy – she gasped together with him, feeling the tip open and crawl inside her without difficulty.

-Aint complaining… but ya late– he growled under her, holding her hips when he was all inside her.

It didn't matter how few hours had passed since the last time or that they had collapsed after who knows what round. It was never enough for her when they were together, her body craved to feel him inside her, his warmth, his company, his aura. She'd never been so wet for anyone else, no matter how much they'd done or what, it was a spontaneous reaction, as was his always willing to satisfay her. It was comforting, exciting.

She felt him pulsing between her folds, filling her perfectly and streching her like the first time. Hands resting on his midsection, Y/N circled her hips, Roman inspiring lunges as she enjoyed his big intrusion. Her nails dug into his skin, scratching softly and somehow remembering that thousands of people would see him that night, fingers trailing, back hunching. They had started everything slowly, with kisses, massages, but Y/N didn't want to wait anymore, wasn't able to wait anymore. Roman stroked her butt, trying to grab as much as possible when she lifted a bit to welcome him back inside herself completely. He held her even if she didn't need it, as he always did, as he did everywhere and as he promised to do in the future.

- Ah… fuck… you streach me so we-ell- once, twice, slowly, before increasing the pace.

She felt his head sink past her curves, rubbing against the spongy walls, pulling at the skin and settling with every jolt. Up and down, swift and merciless to herself, clamoring and craving more with each slimy sound that began to rise from their union.

-Ruin yourself with Daddy's cock… mmh… dont hold back – his voice, hoarse and low, had the ability to charge her as much as his big hands.

Bracing herself on her knees, she kept only the tip inside each time she rose and then fell, hips spinning furiously. Lost in that warm feeling, she closed her eyes, head tilting back, mouth open to fill the room with moans. Her mind emptied more with each lunge, pussy wanting to melt and when she finally found the right angle in her cunt, her head fell forward.

- A-ah! Fuck! Y-yes… ah! – she meowed shamelessly, mouth hanging open.

- That's it… g-good girl, harder – growled Roman, slapping hard her buttock.

Pain made her wince, in contrast to the visceral pleasure from feeling him strike on her sweet spot. But soon that one became pleasurable too and Y/N leaned forward, rubbing her button of nerves against him, her ass slamming at an unnatural pace. There was nothing else in her head, just Roman and the heat building fast, hand moving back up to her hips and then up her stomach. He gripped her boob, his thumb playing with her dark nipple, twisting it from side to side, as she did with his cock. When he pinched and squeezed, something else about her tightened the grip on him and Roman moaned in response, growling and pulling her closer to meet her jolts.

The silence of the room at that hour was now filled by their hot breaths and the slimy sound of colliding bodies. Concentrating she could have felt their bed as well, shaking because of them, but it was impossible to focus on anything other than the heat was now building in her stomach and threatening to make her chest explode. It felt like it was dripping down her legs and it probably was, her body was covered in a sheen of sweat and so was Roman's. She stared at the line of the tattoo, abs contracted, hair plastered to his forehead, chest heaving. Her hands began to wander, feeling the tension coursing under his skin, hips thrusting, walls pulsing, riding him. Roman suddenly stopped torturing her nipples, to forcefully pull her against him and Y/N smashed her mouth against his full one, immediately feeling Roman invade her with his tongue. That umpteenth intrusion brought her one step closer to the edge, she moaned his name, stomach now seeming to rise in her chest and melt between her legs. Her folds vibrated out of control, gripping him every time Roman spread her, every time she pounded herself, unable to slow down.

- Fuck me until you can't think straight-yes! Thats it! Yes – Roman blew into her face, lungs ready to explode and Y/N smashed a hand into his chest.

- Lemme-aahn!

Legs shaking, she straightened up again, his enlarged cock throbbing fully inside her again, meeting the heat that had built up in her stomach. She was a mess, a beautiful mess only him, knew how to reduce her and when his hand spanked her ass again, making her shiver, Y/N crumbled on top of him. Her climax shook her from toes to head, eyes narrowing, lip between teeth and an unspecified scream welling up from her chest. Her pussy refused to let go, squeezing as if to strangle him and taken into the moment, Y/N didn’t understand where that sensation began and where Roman's hand, that now had grabbed her throat.

- R-Roo-mmh! - she gasped, gaze back on him who was now sitting up.

She was still shaking as he kissed her, biting and licking her mouth, chest pressed against her breasts.

- We've found a… new kink- he grinned pleased, throwing her on the bed, to climb partly on top of her – my messy whore – the adoration with which he had whispered in her ear brought Y/N to curl up against him, body, weak for the climax, that still didn't stop shaking.

Her mind was blank, she felt his kisses along her face, fingers squeezing enough to hold her still, but not enough to choke her. He was still inside her, still lodged in her throbbing center, smeared all the way to her length and as he started pounding her hard, not holding back, the familiar feeling of overwhelm washed over her.

-P-plea-ase – she pleaded, clinging to his arms-… aah, please- moans now similar to cries.

-I gotchu hush-hm… Daddy'll wreck y-you- she wasn't sure what she was begging for, the intensity of the climax had made her hypersensitive and her whole body was on fire at that point, but Roman was ready for both.

He pulled one of her legs up onto his muscular shoulder, spreading her as wide as possible and with his fingers around her throat, he quickened the pace, his lips pressed against her temple. Y/N clearly felt his hardness pulsing near her spot, tip torturing her most sensitive point, causing her to writhe beneath him. She gasped for air, room spinning over her and the only anchors seemed to be Roman's arms. Y/N heard him ranting something, moans growing more furious above her and she closed her eyes again, losing herself in another climax, as he came inside her, sinking with obstinacy and the intention of fill her.

For long seconds her mind was filled only with the sound of her crazed heart, strength drained. She was never as vulnerable as in that moment, when she let go of everything abandoning herself to the flow, the world spinning, running around her and her forgetting it. Eventually though, Roman came out of her with a satisfied grunt and before he could fall back into their covers, Y/N clung to him again.

Roman’s laughter, amused, low, tired, rang above her head as he planted his usual kiss on her forehead.

- … is my happy girl still happy?

- Happier - she confessed, his hand stroking her back.

- We'll work on the happiest, whatchu say?

She raised her head, eyes meeting him, unable to hold back the smile that his arrogant face brought on her.

She already was the happiest, but it was better not to tell him or it would have been the end of everyone.

Tag squad: @sunnyfleur23 @racerchix21 @alyyaanna @wickedsunfire @romanreignsdefencesquad @romanstheory @thiccc-rider-mcintyre @keybladeofsteel @iovereigns @msbigredmachine @nayys-world @gobbersworld @utika151209 @cumxxslutt @civildawn @romanmydaddy @triscillal @papireigns-05 @helensanders92 @ichdrachenfrau @darqchilddaydreamz @meggylynnloves @unfriendly--blvck--hottie @nicolewoo @wrestlezaynia @reignsx @reigns-central-blog @kianaleani @daguenoire @extra-11 @thedonsfactory @snowpanda18 @brattyfics @mzv11 @romanreignseater @namjoonspinkytoenail @tribalchiefdaily @2baddies2furious @vebner37 @raeluvshammett @depressedneedingrevenge @cyberdejos2 @thewarlordsworld @jeonmahi1864 @jxtina-86 @harmshake @harlem11680 @jeysuso @joanoai @southerngirl41

[poetryandfluffycats]

Hiii how are you? :D can I request Natsume teasing a soft dom reader who is usually very innocent and dense until they snap and punish him? Like they're all "I don't wanna hurt you are you okay with this are you sure? :(" so Natsume's just like "just rail me ffs" and purposely getting on their nerves so they act up afhgahfgaf I hope I made myself clear ^^"

A/N: I cant tell whether I hate this fic or love it

Pairing: Natsume Sakasaki x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW, choking, teasing, degrading(natsume to reader), prasie(reader to natsume), marking/biting, hair pulling, oral over clothes, natsume is a head pusher, finger sucking, handjobs, fingering(reader to herself), rough sex, riding, soft dom reader turned mean, kitten used as petname, reader is mentioned to be taller than natsume

Content: Its been a long day, all you want to do is fall into your bed and rest. That's until your boyfriend shows up offering a... different way to relax.

Words: 2.8k

NSFW oneshot under cut!

Punish me~

Collapsing onto your bed, you let out a heavy sigh, the events of the day weighing on your mind. Its not like it had been a horrible day, per say, just one of those days where everything seemed so dull and exhausting. With idol work, school, and your after school job, you were so stressed and completely burnt out. There was nothing more you wanted to do than curl up in your plush sheets and drift off into a nice slumber-

"(name)? ArE yoU home?"

Ah. Right. Natsume was coming to the dorm tonight, wasn't he? How could you have forgotten? It was a plan you yourself had made! And he had been so excited about it too, talking about how he couldn't wait to have fun with you...

Yet here you were, already half asleep in your nightgown, having completely forgotten about your dear boyfriend. How selfish were you? You had cancelled your previous plans due to idol work so many times, and when you finally had time you couldn't be assed to remember you invited him!

"Y-yeah! In here!" You called out, forcing yourself to get out of bed. The least you could do for him was keep him company for the night, considering you forgot about him and all. Quickly, you made yourself presentable, straightening out your gown and rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.

You opened the door, allowing the red headed man to walk in and make himself at home. Compared to you, he looked immaculate. Hair brushed to perfection, not a single wrinkle on his school uniform, even the pendant around his neck looked shinier than usual. He scanned your figure, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

"AlreaDY in your nightwEAR? How scandalOUS" He teased, standing up on his tippy-toes to press a chaste kiss to your lips. You smiled, leaning down to make it a bit easier for him.

"Sorry Natsume... I'm really tired from training today" You admitted, giving him an apologetic smile and ruffling his hair.

He swatted your hand away with a small "Hpmh!" and smoothed out the mess you had created, returning his hair to its original form. The childish action earned a sheepish smile from you. He had always hated it when you did that, saying it only reminded him of how much shorter than you he was. It was adorable.

"Hmm, is thaT so?" He intertwined your fingers together as he led you over to the bed, settling the two of you down on the edge. "I suppoSE I don't minD a slEEpy girlfriEND"

Another small smile tugged at you lips as you scooted closer, resting your head on his shoulder. He was so warm, so comfy. his scent was a mix of salty sweat-most likely from his own idol training-and the tea leaves he commonly used in his spells. It was a smell solely unique to him, one you found comforting.

"YoU know, I might have a waY for yoU to reLAX, (name)" His voice was low, huskier than usual.

The hint of sultriness in his voice was undeniable, causing a warm blush to take over your cheeks. Was he really suggesting that? Right now? You couldn't help but feel impressed by his level of boldness, since you were usually the one to take initiative. It also warranted a bit of concern however. The last thing you wanted was to be taken advantage of because you were stressed out-

"YoU look scarED, kittEN. WhaT'S so scary aboUT a massAGE?"

Oh. That made more sense. Of course he wasn't trying to be suggestive, he was being sweat! You cursed your stupid mind for immediately going there, the embarrassment still lingering on your face.

"R-right, sorry, I guess I'm just a bit on edge today" You gave a nervous chuckle, moving your head back from his shoulder and shifting onto your stomach. "A massage would be lovely, Natsume"

The weight of the bed dipped beside you and you soon felt a pair of slender fingers tracing the bumps of your spine. He slowly moved up to your shoulders and neck, kneading the tensed flesh of your back between his digits like so. His movements were slow, calculated. Clearly he had some sort of experience with this. A pleasant hum left your lips as he worked on the muscles in your shoulders, easing the tension you didn't even know you had been feeling.

"Feels gooD, righT?" He cooed, leaning down to press a delicate kiss to the nape of your neck. You possibly would have noticed the hint of seduction in his tone if you hadn't been so blissed out by his touch.

You could only muster a hum in response, closing your eyes and feeling sleep creep up on you. Natsumes hands trailed down your back once again, removing all the knots and kinks he came into contact with. It made you feel like heaven, like you were the luckiest person in the world to have such a wonderful man with you. You could feel yourself drifting into unconsciousness...

"Natsume!"

The feeling of him lifting up your gown and giving a firm squeeze to your butt cheeks pulled you out of your massage induced trance. You crawled to your knees and whipped your head around, staring at him with wide eyes. Here you had been thinking he was simply trying to be kind, when he was just as pervy as you had originally thought!

"You're not being very good right now, you know..." Your futile attempt at scolding him fell on deaf ears as he crawled onto your lap.

"Am I noT? Hm, maybe you neeD to puniSH me"

He picked up your hands-which had previously been resting by your sides-and brought them to his neck, intimating being choked. Almost as quickly as he had brought them there you pulled them back, trying your hardest not to give into his advances.

"My love, that's dangerous. I could really hurt you doing that, and I'm too tired to take care of you if I do" You sent him a smile, hoping he'd back down from the idea.

Instead, he crawled further into your lap, wrapping his arms around your waist and settling himself right on your crotch. The thin layer of his pants did nothing to hide the throbbing tent poking against you, and the way he pressed himself down against you was not helping the matter.

"StuPID, I can handle iT. Or are you scarED?" A smug grin played at his lips as he continued to grind on you, the look in his eyes growing intenser by the second.

Shit. He knew you all too well. Knew your weaknesses, your turn-ons, and most importantly, how to press your buttons. There was no way you'd back down from a challenge-and you were fully aware he'd never let you forget it if you chickened out-even if this could have some negative consequences later...

It wouldn't hurt to try, right?

"You want it so bad, don't you?" Your voice dropped an octave as you grabbed his hips, swiftly flipping the two of you over so you could be on top. He looked up at you with half-lidded eyes, that painfully annoying smirk still plastered on his face.

"What a silly quesTION, kittEN. Why else would I asK for iT?" He mused, eyes glistening with mischief.

You brought a hand to his neck, testing the waters with a gentle squeeze to the sides. A small moan was torn from his throat, followed by a giggle as he placed his arms behind his head and closed his eyes.

"That all yoU goT? HurrY up alreaDY"

His voice was laced with annoyance and boredom, but the growing budge pressing into your thigh told another story. Clearly, he was enjoying himself, you didn't need to be a genius to figure that out. How much he was enjoying this... it almost made you want to stop out of spite. Make it a real punishment for him, one he'd never forget and have trouble walking because of...

"This is taking too loNG" Natsumes whiny voice broke your train of thought. "Just fuck me (name)-aH!"

Before he could finish you wrapped both hands around his pretty little neck, pressing down hard on his pulse points. The gasp that left him, the way his eyes widened, the way his hands flew up to meekly pull at your own, it made your head spin. His face turned a pale shade of red as you grinded your hips against his clothed erection, his chokes and moans only fuelling you on further.

"You wanted this, take it" You hissed, leaning down to nibble softly at his mouth, scraping and grazing the sensitive skin. "Take it like a good boy"

You released your hands from him, only to pull him up and crash your lips against his. It was a sloppy and harsh kiss, more teeth than anything else. You bit down on his bottom lip, creating a sea of drool and blood to drip down his chin. Tangling your fingers in his hair you yanked him forward, deepening the kiss and giving yourself more area to explore.

He eagerly returned the kiss, grabbing onto your hips and fiddling with the hem of your panties, pulling them down to your ankles with ease. You shimmed out of them without breaking the kiss, throwing them somewhere on the floor. You could deal with that later, being too indulged with him to care now.

"Take this off" Tugging on his tie, you pulled away from the kiss, earning a whimper from Natsume and a whine of protest. "Now"

He didn't waste much time. His tie and shirt hit the ground before you could blink, and his pants came quickly afterwards, leaving him in just his boxers. Whilst keeping your eyes glued to his body you mimicked his actions, striping yourself of your nightgown and exposing yourself fully to him. His eyes trailed up and down your figure, taking in each curve and crevice. He simply adored your body, and clearly so did his cock. It stood up proud in his boxers, a wet patch of pre-cum already seeping through the fabric.

"So cute, so desperate" You cooed, tracing a finger over the wet spot and palming his throbbing member. "Aren't you a cute little boy? Getting so worked up for me"

You lowered your head, resting your chin on his thighs and blowing your hot breath on the cloth of his boxers, drawing out a straggled moan from the trembling man. Licking your lips, you inched closer to his covered length, giving it a few small kitten licks before mouthing at it and sucking out the moisture of his pre-cum. His hips bucked upwards, suffocating your nostrils with his musk.

"Stop teasING!" He spat, grabbing a handful of your hair and pulling downwards, forcing you to take his clothed cock further in your mouth. "Use that mouTH for something usefuL!"

Was he really trying to take control? You didn't like that.

With one swift movement you slapped his hand away, climbing on top of him to wrap your fingers around his throat. Using your free hand you hooked a finger under his boxers and pulled them off, finally freeing his swollen erection. The tip was a glowing pink colour, shiny with pre-cum and tiny droplets of your saliva.

"Don't fucking talk to me that way" You used all your strength to push him down hard against the pillows, tighten and loosening your grip on his neck. "Brat"

He opened his mouth to respond but his words were quickly replaced with a raspy moan was you gave his shaft a firm tug. You released his throat, opting to silence him by shoving two fingers down it instead.

"Suck"

The command was met with an eye roll from Natsume, which you put a stop to by shoving your fingers even further down his throat, causing him to gag and spit up on the tips. You gave his length a few lazy pumps as he hesitatingly compiled, a cocky grin appearing on your face.

"See, that wasn't so hard, was it?" You cooed.

The redhead whined in protest, swirling his tongue around the digits, successfully coating them in slick. Satisfied with his performance, you continued pumping his cock, starting out with a fast and harsh pace. He gasped at the sensation, moaning and whining around your fingers like a whore.

Once they were properly lubed up, you retracted your fingers from his mouth with a nice "pop!" sound. You brought the hand down in between your legs, pressing them up against your entrance. You eased them in slowly, making a sure to make a show of groaning in pleasure to work him up. The way his dick twitched in your hand at the sight was almost comical.

"Stupid bitCH. S-stoP playing with yourseLF! Hurry uP!" There was a primal lust in Natsumes gaze, one that showed just how much he wanted-no, needed-to-be fucked silly. You simply chuckled, pushing your fingers in deeper and increasing the pace of your hand on his cock.

"Oh? I can always stop, if you don't like it..." You taunted, teasingly releasing your grip. "It would be such a shame though, I feel so good right now. I could cum just by fucking myself. Agh~ Fuck!~ Yesss!~"

You threw your head back in mock ecstasy and arching your back, putting on the most erotic display you could muster. The sound that left Natsumes mouth was near animalistic, so desperate and needy. He almost sounded in pain. It was a beautiful view, and it only edged you on further.

"Just let mE stick it iN alreaDY! You'RE wasting your timE!" He wailed. His tone was on the verge of being borderline aggressive, as if he was trying to swap the roles by throwing a temper tantrum. It was adorable.

"Huh? Wasting my time? Darling, aren't you the one who wanted this?" You dragged your fingers out of your dripping hole, using them to jerk him off with both hands. "Didn't you want to be punished?"

Without giving him time to reply you climbed back on top of him, positioning yourself right above his needy tip. You rubbed it in between your folds, mixing his pre-cum with your juices. Natsume bucked his hips and grabbed onto yours, digging his nails in deep and pulling you down ever so slightly. His patience was wearing thin, too desperate to care about your little show.

You took one hand off his cock, using it to brush a strand of hair behind his ear. "I'll give it too you now, okay?"

"Fucking finaLLY"

You dropped down, taking him in inch by inch with ease, hissing as he stretched you out. He fit inside so smugly, like your cunt was moulded for his cock. A low growl left his lips when you took all of him in, your hips falling flush against his. That full feeling, it was one of your favourites.

You didn't spend much time getting adjusted to his length before you lifting your hips up and slamming them back down, creating a fast pace to ride him at. He clawed at your hips as you bounced up and down on him, using his dick as a toy to get off on. You gently wrapped both hands around his neck once again, using it as leverage as you rode him.

His head flew back onto the pillows as a loud, broken moan torn from his throat, hips snapping to meet your movements. His face was twisted with pleasure and pain, mouth wide open with a string of drool hanging out the side and tears forming in his eyes. It was pathetic, you loved it.

"Ngh~ so fucking good" You grunted, feeling your climax coming closer and closer each time his tip grazed over your cervix. "So prefect for me"

He couldn't even response, only letting out another lewd moan, this one even louder than the last. His whole body was trembling like crazy and the small gasps and grunts that left him were straight up sinful. It was clear he was getting close too.

It wasn't long until your walls were clamping down around him hard, the pleasure you were feeling coming to an explosive peak and your juices spraying all over his cock. You were so caught up in your own high that you didn't even notice when he came too, his hot seed filling you to the brim. It all felt so good, like you were in heaven.

Only when you had come down from your brain-numbing high and your brain had regain proper function you noticed just how tight you were squeezing Natsumes neck. The poor boy looked like he was about to pass out. You released your hold in an instant, adrenaline kicking in as you quickly hopped off him and began checking his neck for any damage.

"Shitshitshitshit! Natsume? Natsume! Are you okay?" You cursed yourself for being so careless with him. How could you let this happen?

Your concerns were met with a cough and a small giggle from the man, a small but genuine smile forming on his face. "I'm finE. Told yoU I could handLE iT"

[memberment]

GOOD MORNING EVERYONE

So the Trinitarians brain worm is back and Morning Glory is now longer and biting the dust as far as my focus goes.

But like, I genuinely want to talk to anyone who's invested in what's to come as far as part two goes. SO PLEASE. I IMPLORE THE FOUR OF YOU WHO PERPETUALLY TAKE NOTICE OF MY SCREAMS INTO THE VOID.

We're all aware that Trin is a time loop fic. That is confirmed.

BUT THE PROBLEM IS HOW I'M GOING ABOUT DOING THAT. AND I NEED INPUT FROM PEOPLE THAT ARE NOT ME AS FAR AS PLEASES AND SPARKLES GO, YES?

Because like sure I'm writing it and like fuck everything else, let me tell my story. But it's the how of it all like if I'm gonna throw another 200 give or take hours into this I would at least like one person to be having a wonderful time drinking and driving (I have since remembered this is not a common phrase, I do not mean this in a literal sense, it's an expression) with me right?

Part two is going to be 50 chapters, give or take. (Part one is about 37 for reference.)

So the plan for part 2 rn is (ROGUHLY):

(1-10) is the second timeline. There are a lot of importants and I cannot just glaze over it all more than that. But we're also working in a bit of a shorter time period than the original events of the story and introductions do not need to happen again, right?

(11-40)ish would be me running through the next timelines in a set up structure -> what changes -> the results of said changes and then inevitably what sends our looper backwards. It wouldn't be running through all the timelines but the more notable ones in kind of a four chapter structure, I am not fully sold on four, but rough estimate yk.

And then 41-50 would be the finale of part two. It's literally the last timeline in its glory and then the epilogue which kicks off part three.

COULD AT LEAST ONE OF Y'ALL SIT THROUGH THAT OR DO YOU GUYS HAVE ANY NOTES AT ALL BECAUSE LIKE

I personally kinda like it but if not a soul is reading this I am throwing myself on the curb with the rest of the garbage LMFAOOO.

I NEED THOUGHTS. OPINIONS. COMMENTS. CONCERNS. ANYTHING.

Anyways, I'm going to work. I have off tomorrow and I broke the ff investment seal for today so insanity and updates will be here tonight and homework will be tomorrow.

HOPE EVERYONE HAS A GOOD DAY <3

(9:30) I am literally falling asleep as I lazily write this angel based on Danse Macabre. Expect all of maybe one more update tonight if the tacos I am abt to receive don't wake me up LMFAO.

Also, I am almost saddened by not having something to post tm. Anyone want an early chapter of something that isn't Genesis/Desolation bc they're both on Monday?????? (I am feeling like a menace rn)

(10:19) tacos and the absolute yap session I just had did wake me up a bit. MAAAYBE might write some more. Idk I slept like three hours last night and went to work I'm kinda dead. But we're at 98.2k!!!!!!🥳

(11:06) okay we made it to 99.6k everything besides the flashback for 31 is done. I'm about to relax and watch something and figure out mechanics of some of this because god this series is A BEAST. Like, I still have six planned chapters left.

Pure insanity. I love it here. I hate it here.

Holy shit wait I just came to the realization that I started this fic exactly one month ago. I have belted out 99.6k for THIS FIC ALONE. (Moreso if we're including future shit that hasn't happened yet)

IN ONE MONTH.

THAT IS FUCKING CRAZY WHAT HTE FUCK LMFAOOOO

I may or may not be cooking we’ll find out in 6-26 business hours

(5:28) So I just had a very interesting past few business hours. I read a fic I've been waiting ever so patiently to finish. That's cool, right. I go for a walk at 4 in the morning because I'm insane. Fantastic. I get home at five and I'm like ohhhh well what do I do now it's not sleep time yet. Oh write I'm supposed to be drawing.

Nope I reread the epilogue of morning glory and realized Tweek's first address is for my morning glory and Craig's last sign off is your morning glory and now I'm ready to throw myself on the curb with the garbage as I sob. Someone call a trusted adult for me thanks.

[olderthannetfic]

Jeez, this entire drawn out convo is embarrassing and done to death. BL is romance. It's bound to the same romance tropes as MF and FF, id-driven as many of them are. If you don't like how a male character is written, that just means you don't like the story; move on. A lot of romance and horror both function on the premise of "romanticizing" and "fetishizing" things that wouldn't be desirable in real life. Yes, horror movies do portray murder as something fun for the audience. That's why people like slashers flicks from the 80s, 90s, and early 2000s. It even became a trend that people would watch the intro of the slasher to see which teenagers are the most annoying, so it's fun when Jason or Freddy or Michael Meyers, or whoever kills them gruesomely. That's why we love the Final Destination films! That's why we like Saw! It's why we like The Evil Dead! It's why we like Wrong Turn! It's why we like Scream! Friday the 13th, Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Child's Play, Halloween! They're tropey horror slashers with elaborate, gorey murder scenes that become such spectacles of themselves that by the end of the franchises, there's so much blood and viscera that the scenes are parodies of themselves. They're beloved all over the world. And people cheer for the murders in theaters! People love cheering for Freddy Krueger and Michael Meyers, and Jason when they disembowl some 15 year old who was probably just off drinking illegally with their friends. People love cheering for them so much, that there're are crossover films so we can cheer as they fight each other. These are such well-known tropes in horror that they've become cemented in popular culture, so movies like Cabin in the Woods are made. It's popular, extremely so, and I don't know how someone can go 20 years of life and not realize this. Just like how people like reading Twilight wherein Edward basically stalks Bella. Women don't want to be stalked in real life, but they like Edward because it's just a story. No one wants to date a man like Christian Gray in real life, but he's hot in a story. No one wants a guy like Ryouma Ichijou in real life, but it's fun in a tropey BL. The audience is supposed to like him because they want the main couple to get together. If it's not your thing, just don't watch it and move on to something else. The world will keep spinning.

And a lot of people like stories from the antagonists' perspective because it's interesting. This doesn't appear often in things made for children because it's for children, so it has some small responsibility of modeling behavior... because it's for kids. Things for adults don't have all these restrictions because as an adult, you should be able to judge right from wrong in real life, so you can just relax and watch Hannibal Lector abuse and manipulate Will in Hannibal without having an existential crisis about the moral fabric of society decaying. If you can't handle it, you should leave the training wheels on because genre fiction for adults will not always hold you hand--because you're an adult, and you should have common sense to know "murder/sexual assault/stalking/harassment/etc is bad in real life." Children below the ages of 4-5 aren't supposed to watch things like Spongebob for this same reason: they can't tell the difference. If you're an adult, you should be capable of that much, at least.

BL studies is an established academic field that discusses and examines BL across the world in different media forms: manga, manhwa, manhua, anime, donghua, live action, etc. from different countries. Read articles from professionals. Learn about BL and geicomi since apparently it also has to be reiterated that the characters in BL--yes, even the thin, waifs--look like straight men in East Asia. They're ikemen. There are different stereotypes of what queer men look like all over the world, wild concept, I know. The stereotype of what gay men look like in E. Asia are chubby bears, like plumbers, or super ripped men, like the body types typically featured in geicomi, the stories made by men for a male target audience.

Yes, many popular youtubers/breadtubers say convertly puritanical talking points in their videos. Few, if any, actually have media literacy. And few are actually transgressive or nuanced in their discussions of fiction or fandom. If they were, Google wouldn't promote them. You should try reading up more about radfem/TERF theory to recognize these talking points. Everyone who thinks these things isn't walking around around with a neon sign. You should know, since you actually share many of their harmful beliefs, but I doubt you'd call yourself a TERF or a radfem. Read Nancy Friday books like My Secret Garden to learn more about taboo sexual fantasies are how normal they are.

Read BL studies articles to actually learn history, read some Nancy Friday books to get over this weird projection of morality and kink in fantasy, and actually listen when people are correcting you because there's decades if not centuries of research refuting all your "points." No one is saying you have to like these stories for yourself, but you do have to realize the world doesn't revolve around you, and other people will always like different things and that's fine. These stories and discussions have always happened and they're fueled by misogyny and homophobia, as well as a desire for censorship. Read some Oscar Wilde essays too or even more recent BL manga/hwa/etc. BL anime doesn't get produced often because animation is expensive. It's 2023. Why are we pretending that Love Stage is representative of current trends in BL across different countries in different mediums, genres, magazines/publishers since Love Stage came out in the early 2000s?

--

[theworldibuilt4you]

[Addie had been squeezing their tail to soothe the background, gnawing anxiety they had been feeling, and the intital silence almost made them relax their grip. It seemed like they had been worried over a whole lot of nothing, until...]

O-oh my god, Sonny!! Are you okay?!

[They immediately tensed, pulling extremely close to their monitor, confusion and fear abound in their eyes as their blood ran cold.]

Shit, shit, shit! I-is this supposed to happen?! D-did I do something wrong...?!

[They hovered their hands around their monitor hesitantly, unsure of what to do with themselves. It was out of their control, now... And they hated that. The sound of the fans spinning in their computer began to increase in volume, and definitely weren't helping to de-escalate their concern.]

-Addie

[Sonny's form wouldn't stop shaking, gritting his reformed mouth tight as he tasted something vile on his tongue. This... This wasn't right. Why did it hurt so bad..? He.. He knew it was going to be uncomfortable, but this..?]

"HH---hhhn-- Ff-f--uck- Ohhh ff-f-fucking- Gggck--.."

[He knew it was supposed to be at least a little rough- His code had to adjust to being given such a high priority after being neglected beneath the system for so long... But the rest of this... It has to be from how unstable this server is. What has he DONE to this place.?]

[Chamberlain stumbled over quite roughly, bracing his arm against one of the borders. His skin felt like it was on fire, rippling on his back down his spine. He could barely open his mouth to explain-]

[He was going to be fine, but this was going to suck.]

[anotheroceanid]

I don't know why but I can't post a review on ao3 so I want to share my thoughts here if that is ok with you! I didn't really enjoy the giants in HOH, Gaea was too easy to kill, she was awake for like five-six pages and that was all (Kronos was a better ennemy imo) BUT I think your Gaea seems more strategic, patient and dangerous! She takes her time and I'm curious to see what you've planned for her!

I also hope the triplets won't be too mad with Percy keeping them away from the real world, like she has imprisoned them somehow :( I really enjoy the codependency between Percy and her sons (especially Luke, but I do think Milo and Hector are too) - I really like codependant relationship in ff! I hope they'll protect their mama and I can't wait to see them more powerful hehe.

I do not know if I missed it, but do we know Dennis' mom?

I hope you are ok and you had the time to relax yourself after this last big chapter you posted!

I felt the same reading HOH 😅 She’s supposed to be a bigger threat than Kronos, but the giants war feels much more rushed and it’s even hard to tell what’s going on sometimes. Like, I keep rereading HOH to remember things that I have to write, because a lot happens so fast and/or simultaneously. Gaea in WTHB is really taking her time in WTHB, and so far she got the gods to self-destruct while she does her things. However, she is taking some things for granted and they’ll come back to bite her 👀

In a way, all the boys and Percy are codependent of each other one way or another, and they’re deeply connected. Their growth in the story is deeply connected to finding their own sense of self (in Percy’s case, retrieve hers).

Dennis mom was a nymph follower of Dionysus. But he was never very close to her, Pollux being his primary caregiver until his death. Then he became Annabeth’s heir and, technically, foster son.

Thanks for commenting 💕

[aliahsarchives]

┊𝐢'𝐦 𝐭𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝

miguel o’hara ; spider-man: across the spider-verse

pairing: miguel x gn!reader (you do not show up though)

warnings: (vague) breakup emotions, angst

request: n/a

summary: inspired by ‘i’m tired’ - labrinth & zendaya

a/n: kind of worded like a poem (sorry I love writing poetry and can’t stop)

character credit: spider-verse movie series

w/c: 456

'Hey Lord, You Know I'm Tired.'

It is like clockwork really – the way Miguel goes about the day.

Home: The place for basic necessities that couldn’t be completed at headquarters. The place where he was supposed to yearn to go to at the end of each day, yet the place where he rarely ends up. It is less of a “home” and more of an unnecessary residence, for your presence was fading faster than he cared to acknowledge and to keep outside the walls was to keep you in.

Work: The Arachno-Humanoid Poly Multiverse, he would call it by no other name because that is exactly what it is. A multiverse. Multiple realities converging and connecting through the means of spider-people. If he had a home, and he uses if very wisely, he would consider headquarters the living room that he never occupies; always trapped in his own hideaway for means of work, “play” does not exist in his vocabulary – not anymore at least. The enjoyment of downtime had withered away once you had left, leaving the quiet that relaxation had brought to accept the racket of his misfortune.

Missions: When Miguel was not in one of the two listed places, he was surely on a hunt of his own. He does this a lot now, taking on assignments himself. Though he has timelines to monitor and canon events to oversee, he finds that hands-on pursuits block out the noise more thoroughly than any desk duty. He takes every hit and assault, willingly putting himself in harmful positions in hopes that the ringing in his ears will drown out the distant echo of your laugh.

He can no longer carry weight of his own memories.

So this cycle repeats. In various orders and never through allocated time frames, but using these three places, using these three environments Miguel allows his days to choke on the air that lacks of your scent in hopes that the sounds of his own suffering will drown him.

‘It is all I got, Is this Enough?’

He likes to remind himself that he tried his best, that he held on to the breaking strings of your relationship for as long as he could.

But did he really?

Surely if he did he wouldn’t be wishing for you gone from his mind while simultaneously wishing for his memories to draw fresh.

He does not wish for you back.

He does not wish to witness you breaking again, because that is exactly what would happen. He would never be able to give you what you deserve – what you desire most and he does not wish to watch you walk away again.

He wouldn't be able to erase the memory once more.

short little drabble to get me back into writing,, also ahhhh first spiderverse ff after being obsessed for MONTHS (my requests are open!)

[siriuslychessi]

Day 02 - Quizzical

AO3 || FF

There was a knock on the door. It didn’t sound urgent but it was persistent. So persistent that it had woken up Sirius from his nap on the sofa.

He had had a long night chasing some false tip on a Death Eater and he had sat to have a drink, which ended up with him falling asleep on the spot and the drink served but untouched.

Sirius barely registered the knocking at first, until finally he went to the door, guarded about who might be on the other side.

Grabbing his wand he stood next to the door asking: “Who is it?”

“Marlene, I’ve known you since you were 11, and we went to have matching tattoos last week, not even James knows. Now open the door.”

Sirius sighed in relief and opened the door, getting to look at a recently dyed brunette Marlene, lately she had a different coloured hair almost every month. He supposed it was her way of going through the recent events. 

Her blue eyes on him, looking at the bags under his eyes, he was almost sure of it.

“You look like rubbish,” she said, pulling him close and pecklink his lips, “I’m glad that you’re back.” she added softly, like saying it outloud would make her break. 

Sirius his arms around her, “Rubbish tip, nothing happened, just a lot of non sleeping, you just woke me up.” he pointed, pressing his forehead on hers and closing his eyes for a moment, letting his body relax, he had been tense before opening the door. These days no one could be sure of who might come to visit.

“No wonder your breath stinks, like something died in there” she joked, pulling away just a bit. “C’mon, help me with something.”

Sirius looked at her, frowning at the comment, it didn’t sound urgent. “Can it wait? I’m beat.” he admitted.

“No, someone might take it before you wake, it’s just downstairs.”

He rose an eyebrow, like asking ‘what the fuck do you want help with?’ which she replied by taking his hand and pulling him downwards to the street. There was a desk, next to a pile of literal rubbish, which made Sirius consider Marlene’s sanity for a second. 

He looked at her, “Why are you sorting through rubbish?”

“It’s not, the desk is in good condition, and I would have levitated it to your flat, but you decided to live in muggle London.” she replied carefully, taking the pieces of glass from it. “You always say you need furniture. Here you have some for free. Now help me get it up.”

Sirius frowned, “You know I have money right? To buy a new one?”

Marlene rolled her eyes, “Yes, but you never have time, this is right here, and with the right spell we can make it new. Now stop being an arse and help me.” Sirius didn’t move, he just stood there staring at her, like she had grown a second head. “Not everything needs to be brand new. Some things can be a little broken and still be beautiful, if you give them a chance.” she offered, “Also you can’t not have just a sofa and a bed, that’s not a home.”

It doesn’t feel like one. He admitted to himself, before sighing, “If you give rats into my place you are getting rid of them.” He grabbed an end of the desk.

“I thought you like rats, you always hang out with Pete.” she teased, grabbing the other end.

Sirius rolled his eyes, a smile on his lips, “That’s different, Wormtail is family, there would be unwelcome guests.”

And with that they made their way back to the flat.

[novaursa]

To Win a Princess (dragon's favor)

- Summary: Once you come of age, the realm seeks to curry the King's favor once more by seeking a hand of his younger daughter. You. 

- Pairing: targ!reader/Tyland Lannister

- Rating: Explicit 18+

- Previous part: the dance

- Next part: watchful

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround

Tyland’s lips move fervently against yours, his hands possessive, almost desperate as they trace the familiar curves of your body. There’s an urgency to him tonight, a fire that burns hotter, more intense than you’ve ever known. It feels as if he’s trying to lose himself in you, to drown in the closeness of your embrace.

His fingers weave into your hair, his mouth claiming yours with a hunger that sends a shiver down your spine. The intensity of his touch stirs something deep within you, and as you respond, matching his fervor, you wonder what storm could have driven him to such desperate passion. He presses you closer, as if holding you tightly enough could protect you both from whatever shadows linger in the depths of his mind.

When, at last, he pulls back, his breath mingling with yours in the quiet aftermath, you look up at him, searching his face for any sign of what has stirred this change. His gaze, normally so composed, is dark and shadowed, as though weighed down by thoughts he has yet to share. You reach up, your hand resting gently against his cheek, your thumb brushing softly across his skin.

“Tyland,” you whisper, your voice gentle, steady. “Is everything all right?”

He hesitates, his jaw clenching slightly before he lets out a long, quiet sigh. “Perhaps not,” he admits, his tone low and troubled. He shifts, sitting beside you on the edge of the bed, his gaze drifting to the candle’s flame as if gathering his thoughts.

You turn to face him, your hand resting on his shoulder. “Tell me,” you urge softly, sensing the weight of something left unspoken.

Tyland takes a moment before he finally speaks, his voice laced with frustration. “It’s Otto,” he murmurs. “He’s intent on binding you to his family… through his son, Gwayne.”

The name alone brings a wave of irritation, though you push it aside, focusing on the storm in Tyland’s eyes. “Yes,” you reply, a faint sigh escaping you as you settle beside him. “I’m aware of his ambitions. Alicent made that quite clear to me in the gardens not long ago.”

Tyland’s gaze snaps to you, his expression darkening. “And you didn’t think to tell me?”

You shake your head, reaching for his hand, feeling the tension in his fingers. “I didn’t think it worth mentioning,” you say gently. “Tyland, my heart is not swayed by Otto Hightower’s schemes or his family’s ambitions.”

He closes his eyes for a brief moment, his shoulders easing as he releases a breath. “I trust you, Y/N,” he says, his voice softening, “but Otto has the King’s ear. He’s been pressing for this marriage as if it were already decided.”

You tighten your grip on his hand, grounding him as you lean closer. “My father may hear Otto, but he will not force me into a marriage I do not wish for,” you reply, resolute. “He’s promised me the right to choose, and I trust him to honor that.”

Tyland regards you, a mix of relief and admiration flickering in his gaze. “You have a faith in him that I envy,” he murmurs. “I suppose I’ve spent too long watching schemes unravel at court to believe in the promises of kings.”

You smile softly, resting your head against his shoulder, feeling the tension ease from his body as he relaxes into your touch. “You may be right to doubt the promises of kings,” you say, your voice gentle, “but my father has never treated me as a pawn. If he knows my heart lies elsewhere, he will not give me to Gwayne.”

Tyland’s hand lifts to rest on yours, his fingers tracing light circles against your skin. “And your heart,” he murmurs, his voice barely a whisper, “does it truly lie with me?”

You lift your head, meeting his gaze with unwavering certainty. “It does,” you reply softly, a faint smile gracing your lips. “If it’s in anyone’s hands, Tyland, it’s yours.”

For a moment, his expression softens completely, his mask of control slipping away as he takes in your words. He leans forward, pressing a gentle, lingering kiss to your forehead, his lips warm against your skin. “Then let them scheme,” he murmurs. “Let them spin their webs and make their alliances. So long as I have you, none of it matters.”

You smile, tilting your head to capture his lips in another kiss, this one slower, filled with the quiet promise that binds you together, stronger than any royal decree or political ambition. When you finally pull back, you let your hand drift to his chest, resting over his heart.

“Let them try,” you say, your voice soft but resolute. “But I am not so easily claimed. Otto Hightower may see me as a tool for his ambitions, but he will never hold my heart.”

Tyland chuckles, a warm, genuine sound, as he wraps his arm around you, pulling you close. “The dragon’s fire burns brighter than the Hightower’s schemes, then?”

You laugh, resting your head against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your cheek. “Far brighter,” you reply, a faint smirk tugging at your lips. “Let Otto plan, let Gwayne dream… but know that my heart, my loyalty, lies here. With you.”

Tyland holds you tightly, his fingers tracing soothing circles along your back as the silence wraps around you both, comforting, protective. He knows the storm of court will rage, the Hightowers will press, and Otto will continue his relentless ambitions, but in this moment, none of it matters.

In this moment, it is only you and him, two hearts intertwined, bound by something far deeper than politics or duty—a connection neither Otto nor the court could ever break.

The corridors of the Red Keep are quiet as you make your way through the maze of stone walls, tapestries hanging heavy with ancient history. The message from your father, summoning you for a private audience, had arrived earlier that morning, and though it was worded formally, a faint hint of warmth softened the otherwise austere phrasing. King Viserys rarely summoned you without some purpose, and while you knew he respected your independence, a part of you wondered what counsel he might offer. Or perhaps he had heard the whispers at court, those murmurs of alliances and ambitions that seemed to swirl around you these days.

You round the corner, deep in thought, only to nearly collide with a tall, armored figure. You take a quick step back, surprise flashing across your face as you realize who stands before you.

“Ser Gwayne,” you say, inclining your head with polite surprise.

Gwayne Hightower straightens, offering you a warm, if slightly eager, smile as he takes a step closer. “Princess,” he greets, bowing his head slightly, his eyes lingering on you a moment longer than custom might dictate. “My apologies if I startled you.”

You give him a polite smile, though you instinctively keep a bit of distance, sensing the intensity in his gaze. “No apology necessary, Ser Gwayne. The corridors of the Keep are known for their surprises.”

He chuckles, a low sound that echoes faintly in the narrow space. “Quite so. Though I must say, this is a pleasant surprise indeed.” He hesitates for a moment, as if considering his next words carefully. “I… had hoped to see you. It seems I am in good fortune this morning.”

Your polite smile holds, though a hint of tension creeps into your posture. “Ah,” you murmur, inclining your head slightly. “How fortuitous, indeed.”

He studies you, his expression softening as he seems to gather the courage to continue. “Princess, I know that… well, I may not have had the chance to know you as well as I might wish, but I do hold you in the highest regard. Your grace, your intelligence—” He pauses, his gaze steady, perhaps hoping his sincerity will make an impression. “I would be honored if we could… spend more time together, perhaps grow more acquainted. It would mean a great deal to me.”

The words hang in the air between you, filled with a warmth that, though genuine, feels slightly stifling. Gwayne’s earnestness is clear, but the heaviness of his interest—likely encouraged by his family’s ambitions—is undeniable. You feel a pang of sympathy for him, knowing he is likely caught in his father’s web as much as you are.

Maintaining your poise, you offer him a gracious smile. “I appreciate your regard, Ser Gwayne, truly. But, as it happens, my father has summoned me, and I mustn’t keep him waiting.”

The faintest shadow of disappointment crosses his face, though he quickly schools his expression back to one of respect. “Of course, Princess,” he replies, his voice tempered with deference. “The King’s wishes must always come first.”

You nod, offering him a small, reassuring smile. “Thank you for your understanding, Gwayne. Perhaps another time?”

He nods, his expression hopeful, though there’s a hint of determination in his eyes that suggests he does not intend to let this matter rest. “I look forward to it,” he replies softly, his gaze lingering on you one final moment before he steps aside, allowing you to continue down the corridor.

As you move past him, you feel his gaze on you, his presence a reminder of the weight of expectations that surrounds you. Yet, the thought of Tyland’s steady presence gives you strength, grounding you as you near the private chamber where your father waits. With a final glance over your shoulder, you push open the heavy wooden door and step into the room, the warmth of the chamber a sharp contrast to the cool corridor outside.

King Viserys sits by the hearth, his expression softening as he sees you enter. He beckons you forward, a weary yet fond smile gracing his face as he gestures to the seat beside him.

“Come, daughter,” he says warmly, his voice carrying the familiar cadence of fatherly affection. “It’s been too long since we’ve had a chance to speak alone.”

You smile, moving to sit beside him, the flickering fire casting a warm glow over you both. “It’s good to see you, Father,” you reply softly. “I trust you are well?”

He nods, though his gaze remains thoughtful, as if there’s something weighing on his mind. “I am well enough,” he replies. “But I fear there is much stirring in the realm, much that calls for constant attention.” He pauses, his eyes searching yours with a hint of concern. “And it seems you, too, have found yourself in the center of certain… ambitions.”

You feel a faint blush creeping up your cheeks, and you nod, meeting his gaze with honesty. “I have heard as much, Father. There are those who… seek to guide my future, perhaps more fervently than I would wish.”

A flicker of understanding crosses his face, and he lets out a quiet sigh. “Yes,” he murmurs, his gaze drifting to the fire. “I am aware of the efforts to see you… bound to a certain house. Lord Hightower has been persistent, to say the least.”

You feel a wave of relief at his understanding, and you place a gentle hand on his arm. “And do you share his views, Father?”

Viserys shakes his head, his eyes meeting yours with a gentle firmness. “No, my daughter. I do not. You are not some prize to be bartered. I’ve always believed you should have a voice in your own future, and I mean to honor that, just like I did with your sister.” He hesitates, his expression softening further. “I’ve seen enough marriages forged for the sake of politics alone. I would rather you have a life that brings you happiness.”

Your heart swells with gratitude, and you offer him a genuine smile. “Thank you, Father. I only wish for the chance to choose a path that feels… true.”

He nods, a faint smile touching his lips. “Then let no one tell you otherwise, Y/N. You are my daughter, and you will make your own choice.”

Viserys watches you for a long moment, his gaze both curious and contemplative. There’s a hint of amusement in his eyes, as though he can sense you holding back, even if you are careful to keep your composure.

“So,” he begins, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, “if my daughter is to make her own choice, then perhaps she might enlighten her old father as to the nature of that choice?”

You chuckle softly, feeling a warmth in his gentle teasing, but there’s a flicker of nervousness beneath it, too. It’s a delicate dance—offering him insight into your heart without laying it bare, not until you know for certain where the pieces will settle in this intricate game.

“Well,” you begin carefully, glancing into the flames before looking back at him, “I suppose I would value someone who sees beyond titles and alliances. A man who… who values loyalty, and who would respect me as his equal.”

Viserys raises a brow, nodding as he listens, his gaze intent. “Someone who respects you as more than just a princess, then?”

You smile, feeling the weight of your father’s wisdom in his words. “Yes, precisely. Someone who values me as a person, not merely as a… object to be moved for gain.”

He chuckles softly, his hand resting on the arm of his chair as he leans forward, his expression thoughtful. “A rare quality in a man of court. It’s easy enough to find suitors who will promise loyalty, but harder still to find one who understands the worth of a woman’s heart.”

You nod, meeting his gaze with sincerity. “I don’t seek grand declarations or vows born from ambition,” you reply, your voice steady. “I want someone whose loyalty runs deeper than courtly obligations. Someone who… would care for me beyond what my title affords.”

Viserys studies you closely, his gaze softening, a hint of understanding flickering in his eyes. “You’re a wise young woman, my dear. And I suspect you have someone in mind, though you’re being quite careful not to reveal it.”

A flush rises to your cheeks, and you smile shyly, dropping your gaze for a moment. “Perhaps, Father,” you admit softly, choosing your words with care. “But I would rather wait until this… charade of suitors has quieted. Once the noise settles, I think we’ll both see clearly.”

He nods, his expression growing thoughtful as he regards you. “I understand,” he says gently. “And I trust that you’ll choose wisely when the time comes. But if there is ever a need—should you wish for my guidance in this—know that I would support you in seeking what you truly desire.”

You reach for his hand, squeezing it gently, grateful for his unwavering support. “Thank you, Father. It brings me peace to know I have your trust.”

Viserys smiles, his gaze filled with a warmth that only a father could hold. “Of course. And you, my dear, are a Targaryen—our blood carries more than just fire; it carries resilience, strength. I trust you to follow that strength, to make the choice that suits your heart and our family.”

You take a breath, allowing his words to settle in, filling you with a renewed sense of confidence. “There is one other quality I would value in a suitor,” you say, your voice soft but firm.

“Oh?” Viserys asks, leaning in with a curious smile. “And what is that, my daughter?”

You smile, feeling the warmth of your father’s attention. “Patience,” you reply, a faint chuckle escaping you. “A suitor who knows how to wait, and who understands the worth of earning trust.”

Viserys chuckles, his smile widening. “Patience is a virtue too often lost at court, but it sounds as though you have chosen well, even if you’ve yet to reveal him.”

You glance into the fire, a faint smile playing on your lips. “Let the court have its whispers, Father. When the time is right, I will introduce him. Until then, let them think what they will.”

Viserys’s hand tightens over yours, his gaze filled with pride and affection. “Then I shall wait to meet this man who has won my daughter’s favor, though I admit you have my curiosity. You’ve a wise heart, Y/N, and you’ll make a choice that will strengthen both our family and your own happiness. That, I am certain of.”

With those words, you feel a sense of calm settle over you. Whatever Otto’s ambitions may be, and whatever suitors may be paraded before you, you know that your father’s trust is unwavering. And, in time, when the moment is right, you will follow your heart.

Tyland stands at the edge of the courtyard, his gaze following your every movement as you stroll through the gardens, your silver hair catching the morning light, shimmering like strands of woven starlight. You’re speaking with a servant, a faint smile gracing your lips as you listen intently. There’s a calm elegance to you, a quiet confidence that draws him in like a moth to a flame. Though he’s careful to keep his admiration discreet, it’s nearly impossible to tear his eyes away.

He takes in every detail: the way you tilt your head when you laugh softly, the gentle curve of your hand as you gesture, the easy grace in your movements. For a man as practiced in restraint as Tyland, the depth of his feeling catches him off guard, filling him with a sense of wonder and, perhaps, the faintest touch of trepidation. He has always prided himself on his control, yet with you, that control unravels, leaving him bare, vulnerable to feelings he hadn’t anticipated.

Unbeknownst to him, a pair of eyes has noticed his gaze—Rhaenyra’s, sharp and astute, as she walks arm in arm with Laenor along the opposite side of the courtyard. She pauses mid-conversation, her eyes narrowing slightly as she observes Tyland’s unwavering focus on you. Her lips twitch into a knowing smile, her mind piecing together what should have been obvious all along.

“Hmm,” she murmurs, a touch of amusement lacing her tone.

Laenor glances over at her, raising an eyebrow. “What is it?” he asks, following her gaze toward Tyland.

Rhaenyra’s smirk deepens as she watches Tyland, her eyes flicking between him and you with newfound understanding. “It seems the lion has his eyes set on someone quite… out of reach.”

Laenor chuckles, crossing his arms as he regards Tyland with interest. “Out of reach?” he echoes. “I’d say he looks rather smitten to me.”

Rhaenyra gives a soft laugh, shaking her head in quiet disbelief. “I can’t believe I didn’t see it sooner. The way he watches her… as if she’s the only thing in the room, even when she’s across the courtyard.”

Laenor raises an eyebrow, a curious glint in his eye. “And how, exactly, did you come to notice this… devotion?”

Rhaenyra’s smirk turns playful, a mischievous light flickering in her eyes. “Because I stumbled upon them together, rather passionately engaged, not long ago,” she says, lowering her voice with a conspiratorial tone. “And I thought, how curious for my sister to choose a Lannister… but now, seeing him like this, I can hardly be surprised.”

Laenor laughs, casting an amused glance at Tyland, who still seems oblivious to their scrutiny. “A Lannister and a Targaryen… it has a certain poetic ring to it,” he muses. “Though I imagine Lord Tyland would not appreciate being caught so… enraptured.”

Rhaenyra’s gaze shifts back to Tyland, her expression softening as she observes the gentleness in his gaze, the unguarded admiration that would normally be so well-hidden. “He looks at her as though she’s the only light in the world,” she murmurs. “And to think, I was surprised when I first discovered them. Now, it seems so obvious.”

Laenor grins, a touch of mischief in his eyes. “Perhaps we should introduce ourselves, make our presence known. See how well Lord Tyland’s composure holds under scrutiny.”

Rhaenyra chuckles, giving him a slight nudge with her elbow. “Oh, let’s. It would be a shame not to witness the renowned Lannister charm falter, even if just for a moment.”

They approach Tyland, who remains blissfully unaware of their approach until Rhaenyra clears her throat, a light, teasing sound that pulls him abruptly from his reverie. He blinks, turning to find both Rhaenyra and Laenor watching him with matching smirks, their expressions rife with amusement.

“Good morning, Lord Tyland,” Rhaenyra greets, her tone light but carrying a subtle edge of knowing.

Tyland quickly regains his composure, offering them a courteous bow. “Princess Rhaenyra, Prince Laenor,” he replies, his voice smooth, though there’s the faintest hint of discomfort in his eyes. “A pleasure, as always.”

Rhaenyra crosses her arms, her smirk deepening. “It’s a rare thing to see you so… absorbed, my lord,” she remarks, casting a pointed glance toward you, who are still blissfully unaware of the scene unfolding across the courtyard. “One might almost think you had more on your mind than matters of state.”

Tyland’s jaw tightens, though he maintains his polite demeanor, his expression carefully neutral. “I merely found the morning air pleasant, Princess,” he replies, his tone measured. “The gardens provide a welcome reprieve from the weight of council matters.”

Laenor chuckles, raising an eyebrow. “Ah, yes, the gardens. And yet, your gaze seems to follow a particular bloom, if I may say so.”

A flicker of discomfort crosses Tyland’s face, though he quickly masks it with a faint smile. “It is only natural to admire beauty where one finds it,” he replies, his voice steady. “And the princess, as always, graces us with such elegance.”

Rhaenyra’s smile softens slightly, though there’s a glimmer of approval in her eyes. “Well spoken, Lord Tyland,” she says, a note of amusement still lingering in her tone. “But I wonder… has my sister come to know of your admiration, or do you prefer to keep such affections hidden in the shadows?”

Tyland hesitates, choosing his words carefully. “The matter is delicate, Princess,” he says quietly, his gaze steady but respectful. “I have no wish to overstep my bounds, nor to place her in a difficult position. She deserves her freedom, and I respect her wishes above all else.”

Rhaenyra nods, clearly pleased with his response. “Then perhaps I have misjudged you, Tyland,” she says softly, though there’s a genuine warmth in her tone. “For all your family’s reputation, I see now that there may be more to you than ambition and golden lions.”

Tyland bows his head slightly, acknowledging the compliment. “I am honored by your words, Princess,” he replies, sincerity threading through his voice. “I assure you, my intentions toward her are genuine, and I will uphold her trust, whatever path she chooses.”

Laenor smirks, crossing his arms as he regards Tyland with newfound interest. “A man of patience, then,” he muses. “We shall see how well that serves you, my lord. For I know one thing—Targaryen women rarely wait long when they know what they want.”

Tyland chuckles softly, his gaze drifting back to you, his expression softening. “Then I shall count myself fortunate,” he murmurs, almost to himself, “if I am granted even a moment of her regard.”

Rhaenyra exchanges a look with Laenor, both of them sharing a silent understanding before she turns back to Tyland, her expression sincere. “Then rest assured, Lord Tyland,” she says, a hint of approval in her voice, “you have the regard of both her family and the patience to await her decision. And perhaps, when the time is right, the rest of the court will see what I see now.”

Tyland meets her gaze, his expression one of gratitude, and offers a respectful bow. “Thank you, Princess. Your words mean more to me than you know.”

As Rhaenyra and Laenor turn to leave, a faint, knowing smile plays on Rhaenyra’s lips. She may not fully trust every man who enters her family’s life, but in this moment, she feels a surprising sense of reassurance that her sister’s heart might just be in safe hands.