#who knows if he was even telling the truth to having a daughter in the first place ?

[kiss-me-muchoo]

𝐞𝐠𝐠𝐧𝐨𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬 || 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary_ you find a thong on Joel’s backpack and you don’t know what to think, turning things awkward just before the holidays.

warnings_corny Christmas pick up lines, AGE GAP (20s/50s) but not specified, smidge of angst (reader’s fault) , fluff, chill mom!reader, pervy hubby! Joel, Christmas shit and a silly argument. NO PROOFREAD YET SORRY

notes_ fallacy family having their first Christmas together omg, it’s almost two years since I started the series and yet here we are, brb I’ll go cry.

• Fallacy series m.list (recommended to read)

♫ ♪ Pedro playlist

✰ Index (+ fics here)

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Celebrating the holidays in the apocalypse was not easy. In fact, the world had forgotten about holidays. For twenty years, days like Christmas or New Year’s Eve had no longer meaning.

But not in Jackson. Right after thanksgiving, the town would start preparing for the lovely event. According to Maria, children received a little present and a big dinner was made. In the previous weeks, the town dressed up with ornaments, mistletoe everywhere and the smell of ginger and mint was all around. Almost like outside the world hadn’t change. But for you and your family, that came from a lot of suffering, you would not allow them to complain.

You had picked up your decoration’s box. One was given to each house of Jackson, to add more personal decorations. However, you picked up yours a little late, since it was your first Christmas in town.

You finished teaching early, giving you time to arrive home, meet your daughter and decorate the house with Ellie.

Cerise was about to turn three months old, she was growing, getting curly hair like her father, but she remained tiny, fussy and adamant. She kept doing the famous newborn scrunch and Joel often made fun of her farts, making you roll your eyes and criticize him for making fun of his daughter.

“Ellie, you’re home?” You asked taking off your boots and coat, placing your bag in the entrance. “Yup, Maria left like ten minutes ago”

Ellie appeared carrying Cerise, who was sleeping. The teenager handed you the baby and you smiled at her.

“Thanks. Hey, I got the decoration for the house, Wanna help me?” Ellie was not excited for Christmas but you could tell she loved being around you and Cerise.

“Sure”

“But-!” Then she rolled her eyes. “You must show me your costume for the charity”

“Oh f- you, y/n” you started laughing, trying to remain calm to not disturb Cerise “I look like shit in it!”

“Please!”

It was past midday when you were done making dinner. A warm soup made the whole to smell like winter and tranquility. Cerise had taken a bath, even Ellie was already in pajamas. It was then, while cleaning the kitchen, that you found Joel’s lunchbox in the little shelves you had beside the refrigerator.

“Silly man” you mumbled to yourself, grabbing the lunchbox.

In the living room, Ellie was reading a comic while Cerise was in her little baby gym.

“I’m dropping this to Joel. Mind if you stay here with Cerise?” The girls shrugs, eyes never leaving her comic. “Yeah, go on”

“Thanks, Ellie. I’ll be quick”

…

That day, Joel was working to build a new layer for the gates that protected Jackson. The team started the new layer before summer ended, even before Cerise was born. And now, near Christmas, it was almost done.

At the sight of your old man, you smiled. He went back to his short hair, just like when you met him in Boston. His belly was gone and his back pain diminished. Joel was in his best form, shape and condition.

“Hey, Texas!” You called him, making some of his buddies to look as well.

At the sight of you, the youngest started doing silly things to make your husband uncomfortable but truth is, Joel was only smiling at the sight of you. But soon turned worried.

“Whatcha doin’ here?” he asks, taking off his thick gloves, offering you a playful smile. “Are you alright? Cerise and Ellie?”

“We’re fine, dear. You just forgot your lunch…”

You brought him a sandwich and cranberry juice, it’s was cold and since your old man couldn’t get up early because he was so warm under the blankets with you, he missed his lunch.

“I thought- never mind. Thanks, baby”

Joel sighed, relieved. He grabbed the lunchbox and looked at you so lovingly, that it made you chuckle.

“What now, Texas?” You ask rolling your eyes, crossing your arms.

“God, I just want to get home, shower a you to give me a blowjob”

“A snowjob!” He glares at you with disdain and rolls his eyes before chuckling, catching the Christmas reference.

“Good lord, shut up” he had grown used to the age gap, but sometimes he remembered how full of life you were compared to him.“C’mere, baby”

He kissed you as usual because nobody was around. He would never hide his feelings for you again, but he remained reserved and preferred to be private when it came to you. Either way, everyone in Jackson knew he married you and had a baby together.

Cerise was a famous baby after all.

“There’s soup and flourless biscuits for dinner. I’m almost done with the Christmas decorations. I’m just saving the tree because I want to do it with you” Joel smiled, something you genuinely loved.

Ever since you gave birth, Joel had changed drastically, being open towards you and very understanding. Things had never felt so good.

“I’ll be at home before the sunset” you nod at him, standing on your tip toes, which he immediately understands and leans over to give you a big kiss. You felt relived and happy. Lucky you to stick along a grumpy unstable senior that turned out the most humble and loving husband.

“Don’t be late, Texas” he rolls his eyes to then kiss you again. “I won’t, baby”

As you walk away, you hear some chattering from Joel’s workmates, probably making fun of him for being a sweetheart towards you. And you don’t miss the female laughter calling him.

There is no reason to mistrust. Joel would never. The last time you both had a similar argument was when Freya, the town’s nurse, actively tried to make some moves on your already husband.

Either way, there are some days where you feel that too much positivity has a price. Like it’s not normal for you to be completely happy and in peace. Perhaps it’s the years of suffering and misery that remain haunting you. Making you believe that Joel would one day walk out, towards complete freedom like he once wanted.

…

Well, Joel was late indeed. You got mad and you started eating with Cerise and Ellie. You placed a plate with a big portion of food for Joel and then you sent your kids to sleep. As you were cleaning the dishes, you didn’t think too much about Joel being absent. Anything could happen at work, your take was that they had finished the new layer and decided to take longer than needed just to be done.

Whatever, you kept cleaning the dishes and didn’t hear your husband was entering the warm house.

“I’m sorry I missed the dinner. We finished the layer…”

Bingo.

“That’s okay, honey” you simply say without looking at him. “I thought of it…”

“Let me eat and then we can decorate the tree” Joel says, trying to make it up for his absence, standing behind you and softly caressing your shoulders.

“Just eat, Joel. You haven’t eaten anything after I dropped your lunch…” your hands finish cleaning the dishes, you dry up and finally face your man. “You sure? I’m up for the Christmas tree…”

“No, I’m tired. Let’s go get warm in the bed…” he nods, smiling at the sight of his wonderful wife. The same woman he met years ago, yet, so different.

“Hmm, then I’m up for a holly jolly

“Yeah? stuff my stocking with your big North Pole, Joel?” he bursted in laughter, trying to be quiet but miserably failed, making you start giggling as well. “Joel, shut up!”

“Well, baby… You’re bein’ a flirt” rolling your eyes, you had to go straight to hug him.

“Get my backpack, please…” you nod at him, approaching the entrance of the house, where Joel’s backpack was discharged in the floor.

You bend over to grab it and the soft sound of a box of band-aids falling makes you sigh.

“Close the fucking backpack, Joel” you try to be quiet while he distantly says sorry. And then you spot a sparkly red ribbon tangled in a zipper. When you pull it out, you realize it’s not a ribbon.

It’s a thong. And lurking from the inside, there an egg nog powder mix.

You have so many questions. You could’ve laughed. But you didn’t. Instead, your head starts questioning why he had a thong on his backpack.

“What the fuck, Joel?” You ask when he arrives at your side. “You have a whole festive fucking pack in your backpack?”

“Darlin’, Are you bein’ serious now?” He asks tiredly, which makes you sigh. “What? Do you think this is not for you and belongs to somebody else?”

“I don’t know!” You spit out frustrated, crossing your arms and realizing you had snapped. “I’m sorry, Joel. I just don’t know how to feel about it…”

You knew it was stupid getting mad over something so silly and immature. It could’ve been a joke from a mate, perhaps Joel actually got it for you. But why slip it like that?

That night you leave your husband all alone in the darkness of the living room wondering what he did wrong.

He stares at the empty Christmas tree and sighs, rubbing his eyes.

…

The next morning, it was Christmas Eve.

Joel got up only to find out kids had school. It was a short day and basically an excuse to gather all the kids and avoid interruptions for any final details to work on. Joel did not have any problem with having Cerise the whole morning. In fact, it made him slightly forgetful about the argument with you last night.

Ellie was gone, Joel heard her cursing as she was leaving, saying how shitty she looked with her elf costume.

Cerise and Joel had a good morning together. He made breakfast for her, then he bather her to avoid getting her later with lower temperatures. Then he paid Tommy a little visit to ask for advice and finally felt confident to face you and ask questions.

He felt hurt by your reaction and was eager to understand why you took things in such way.

He pushed the stroller carrying a sleepy Cerise through the streets of Jackson. Everyone seemed ready for the holidays, happy families everywhere. It made Joel to feel a bigger urge to run towards the little school. There was no point in having a silly fight during a special night.

So when he arrived with Cerise at the school, children were walking out, everyone holding a handcrafted ornament, others had snowflakes, others tried to do paper ginger-man cookies. It made Joel to think how would Cerise be in a couple of years while attending school.

When he entered the old building, he saw that there only were four classrooms. Only one was open. And as Joel pushed the stroller through the hall, he was able to see that the open door was decorated with little stars that had the name of some students. In the center, a baby pink paper that said “Mrs. Miller” and it made Joel’s heart to melt.

Everyone knew that kids loved you. The youngest always said hi or even hugged you, asking if they could see Cerise.

When he entered the room, it was empty, only you sitting in your desk. When you looked up to see, you quickly had to stand up upon seeing your husband and baby.

“Is Cerise okay?” You ask worriedly. “She’s fine, y/n. I just needed to pass by”

You nod, already understanding what he meant. You stare at his red sweater, the color resulting foreign on him, yet, welcoming.

“It was silly and-“ you try to start saying but Joel shushes you. “I’m the one talking darlin’…”

“Earlier in the morning, Tommy and I went to the mall” you only can tap your index finger against your desk, starting to feel completely embarrassed. “We passed by the store and thought it would be silly and fun to grab a pair of festive underwear along the eggnog. I also grabbed a pacifier for Cerise….”

“Now what the fuck? I completely overreacted” you admit avoiding his gaze.

“Do you really think I could possibly cheat on you?” he asks, sounding very hurt, which made your twist in remorse. “Don’t you think we’ve suffered enough to just fuck up everything for nothing?”

Your eyes water and you have to look down, ashamed.

“God, I’m so sorry, Joel. I know it was stupid…” He sighs, crossing his arms, also looking away, to the window of the little classroom. “I normally feel so confident about us and our life here. But occasionally my mind goes back to the beginning and it terrifies me that someday you’ll get tired of everything and just be free. But alone…”

Joel eyed you as you were speaking, and it broke him. Sometimes he forgets you also went through traumatic experiences along the way. You love him unconditionally, yes. But that doesn’t mean sometimes those traumas will not try to arise. And it’s okay to have doubts, the world was broken.

But Joel would give his life to never see you broken as well.

He pulled you closer, holding you tightly. His chin finding a home at the top of your head. And it made you feel safe. Like you weren’t insane for causing nonsensical arguments.

“I’m sorry” you repeat and he shushes you softly. “Having doubts is valid. But I can promise you, my darlin’… that I would do everything again if I had know since the beginning that my reward was you. And I will never get tired of it…”

“Intrusive thoughts aside, everything is perfect. I will let you know whenever I’m feeling odd and hopefully we’ll talk” he nodded, making you feel even more safe. “Of course, baby”

“And I love you, Joel. Like you have no idea” you hear him chuckling, then kissing your hair. “Oh, I think I do. I think we both know we’re down bad for each other”

“Even Cerise knows it. She stares back and forth between us whenever we start talking and she’s fully awake” at the comment, Joel chuckled, looking aside where he left the stroller, noticing there was movement inside.

“I think she’s already doing it” you say smiling.

Joel uncovered the stroller and indeed, Cerise was fully awake, her chocolate eyes scanning the place before landing on her parents. And upon looking at you and Joel, she started cooing.

“Aww, my baby, come here” it would never be not amusing for Joel to finally seeing you as a mother. As you peppered Cerise’s face with wet kisses all over, she seemed to be laughing. The moment the three of you started sharing were foreign, a little over a year ago, everything was so different. Joel was unable to admit that he loved you, you were extremely insecure, Ellie was a stranger. You had zero hopes of a family.

The odds were in your favor. Very much.

“I think she’s growing your nose” Joel said, softly pinching one of the baby’s cheeks. Cerise was in heavy, sandwiched between the warmth of her parents, in a red onesie that had a reindeer in the center and stars in her tiny foots.

“Well I think she’s growing your hair. Messy and curly…” Joel smirked and then kissed you.

“Let’s go home. I want to try that eggnog mix even if it kills us”

“I don’t think syrups and fake powder will kill us, y/n” he took your hand and lead the way out of the school.

…

It was very cold when you got out of the shower. The smell of turkey and butter was filtering through the small gap of your open window. At the dinning hall people were slowly gathering to share a meal and celebrate the night prior to Christmas. And as per usual, you were slightly late.

You had a brown dress that you carried since Boston’s QZ. You had never worn it and you had a second pair of boots reserved for special occasions, which were waiting for you at the foot of the bed along your coat and some thick black thighs. It wasn’t elegant, just classic. An outfit that even in the apocalypse seemed decent or fair.

“Cerise is ready…” Joel says entering the room. His smile grew at the sigh of you, which made you blush and shyly look away.

“No, don’t look away, darlin’. You look like a little doll” he hurried to give you a little spin and kiss your cheeks.

“Calm down, Texas” he steadies his hands around your hips, smiling again “Now, gimme that nasty thong before I change my mind”

“What?” Joel completely forgot about the thing. But soon he went to the basket of clean clothes and handed it to you.

The asshole had washed the thong.

Under the lamp of the room, you were able to appreciate the details of the thong. It was bright red, with some lace details in the crotch, shiny beaded sequins and a fine embroidery.

You slipped into the fabric, hunching the dress around your stomach. Joel let out a little gasp after finally seeing you with the lingerie.

“Merry fucking Christmas” you had to laugh loudly after seeing him almost poking out his tongue, then, you are pulling down the dress and sitting on the bed to put on the thighs.

“That’s lewd, Joel”

“Shut up. I’m getting what I deserve after dinner”

“Your first present to unwrap” you say rolling your eyes.

It is then when you look at Ellie passing by the door and after hearing you burst out laughing, she huffed, standing on the doorway.

“Can you please stop?” The girls asks, but it’s very funny to see her with the elf costume and silly hat.

“Why I was forced to do this?”

“Because you are a pain in the ass for Tommy and Maria” she rolls her eyes.

“Okay, it’s getting late. Let’s go, everyone” Joel leads the way downstairs, where he picks up Cerise from her baby gym and wraps her in blankets before getting her into the stroller.

When he approaches you to help you put on your coat, you can’t stop smiling at the sight of him.

And he notices it, offering back another smile.

Ellie walks out with Cerise in the stroller and turns back to ask who was the keys, but rolls her eyes after seeing you two lost in each other’s eyes.

“HEY!” Both of you snap out of the moment and turn to look at Ellie. “Yeah, yeah, we all know both of you are so in love. But who has the keys?”

“Joel” you reveal, chuckling at the girl’s words and moving away.

Joel locks the door and walks out to the street. He follows closely bu he prefers to savor the moment of you and Ellie making Cerise to babble and coo from inside the stroller. With all the Christmas decoration and the snow falling, Joel wants nothing but a camera to capture the moment. But his old ass would always remember that type of moments.

__________

[wheredafandomat]

Home

Loki x mum! Reader

18+| contains alcohol, loss, Loki and reader share a child. I’m sorry I haven’t written anything in AGESSS

You quickly turned the radio off as the news reporter reeled off a string of recent burglaries that had happened in your neighbourhood. Grabbing your scarf, you adjusted it around your neck as you glanced at yourself in the mirror, offering a half smile as you tried not to focus on the bags colouring the skin beneath your eyes. You took a breath, your smile widening uncannily as your daughter padded towards you, half of her glove dangling off of her small hand.

“Is daddy going to be there?” She asked excitedly as you knelt down, helping her with her glove.

“No—not today” you hesitated “but one—one day he’ll be home” you rushed out, not believing your own words. The truth was, Loki hadn’t been home in almost a year. You didn’t know when he was going to come back, no one did. Unless they did and were just refusing to tell you. You took a steadying breath, cursing the fact that you no longer had the clearance to find out how the mission was going before doing what you had been doing since the day you lost communication. What you were taught. Assuming the worst. You faked a smile again, composing yourself before leaving.

Once you had come home from shopping, you unpacked before continuing the routine you had adopted since Loki had left. Making dinner, alone. Feeding your daughter, alone. Putting her to bed, alone. Showering, alone. Having a glass of whine, which was a step you had added recently, alone. Going to bed, alone and cuddling a picture of Loki. A tear began to pool in the corner of your eye as you looked at the picture, a memory of him overtaking you.

“If you ever need me, just say my name three times” he assured, squeezing your shoulder.

You closed your eyes, holding the picture against you as his name left your trembling lips. You called it three times. Hoping, praying that he’d hear, that he’d come. But alas. Silence met your awaiting ears.

“Liar” you sniffled through tears before begging sleep to overtake you.

By the time the morning came, the warmish glow of the winter sun had covered your room, waking you up before your daughter did. The morning routine was similar to the night one in the sense that it was done alone now.

“We’re going to see Santa today baby” you smiled, pressing the porcelain mug against your lips as you sipped your coffee.

“Yayyy” she exclaimed, her spoon almost flying out of her hand as she threw her arms in the air.

Two hours and another cup of coffee later, there you were in the mall, the line for Santa's grotto alarmingly long. You took a breath, looking at the workers dressed as elves as they spoke to some of the children further up in the line than you.

“Are you excited to see Santa?” One of them exclaimed, smiling widely at your daughter who answered with the same amount of enthusiasm.

You narrowed your gaze slightly the closer you got to the front of the queue, the elves beginning to look slightly more real. You were no stranger to elves. Loki had taken you on a tour of the nines when you were an agent and Alfheim was one of them. But this wasn’t Alfheim.

“Quit staring lady” one of them interrupted your suspicions as you reached the front of the queue.

“Sorry” you spoke, clearing your throat.

Sitting on Santa’s lap, your daughter began listing the things she wanted for Christmas as you took some pictures before her time was over.

“And what about you?” Santa asked, surprising you.

“What?” You answered just above a whisper.

“What is it you want this Christmas?” He smiled generously, your eyes meeting as all words escaped you.

“I-I don’t—” you began.

“You can’t lie to me” he reminded you, your gazes still connected as you lost yourself in this stare.

“Loki” you finally utter, truthfully. “I want Loki”

“Next” one of the elves called before you could even register what had happened. As if on autopilot, you picked your daughter up before heading home before performing the night routine, however this night, you felt off.

The following day rolled around and you took your daughter to her grandparents house.

“You are looking after yourself right” your mum asked, her eyes darting around your face.

“Yes mum” you huffed.

“You know you are still my baby” she reminded you.

“Yes mum” you answered in a softer tone.

“I’ll be round tomorrow with the angel” she smiled, looking at your daughter “don’t forget to stuff the turkey and preheat the oven to—”

“Yes mum” you quickly interrupted “bye mum.”

Getting home, you poured yourself a glass of wine before you began your food prep. Downing the liquid, you pourned yourself another, almost halfway through the bottle before pouring another. You began feeling what could only be described as tipsy before accidentally burning one of your fingers on the pot.

“Ouch” you yelped, running to the sink before putting it under cold water.

As you covered your finger in water, you looked down at it, unable to help the tears that escaped you, your eyes mirroring the tap. Just before you began to cry even more, you heard a crash upstairs, immediately sobering up as you turned the tap off. Suddenly the thousands you had spent on training to become an agent and the years you had spent on the frontline kicked in as you stealthily walked up the stairs. Whoever had broken in chose the wrong house you thought to yourself, remembering the burglaries. Following the noise, it led you to your bedroom as you carefully pushed open the door before gasping, your heart falling to the ground as your eyes met Loki’s dishevelled body laying in your bed. You honed in on the gash on his forehead, sprinting for gauze before you rushed to his side, clearing the blood. Disbelief shrouded you as you began to shake him awake.

“Lokiii, Lokiii” you called, half wondering how strong that wine was.

“Y/n?” You heard fondly, quietly as he stirred awake, you wrapping your arms around him.

The two of you embraced, no questions needing to be asked as your lips met. No words left either of your lips as you helped Loki into the bathroom, undressing him before turning the shower on. You didn’t leave his side, not wanting this potential mirage to fade into nothingness, not wanting Loki to leave again. As you guided him back into the bedroom, you still asked no questions, they could wait until tomorrow.

Wrapping your arms around one another, you embraced, the warmth of Loki’s arms around you, intoxicating you. Taking a deep breath, you breathed him in, your lips pressing against his exposed chest. You felt his lips on your forehead as you moved closer against one another. Home, you felt home.

Had to take a break from writing my assignment to write something Christmassy. Hope you enjoyed!! And I hope you have a wonderful Christmas if you celebrate ❤️

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[tigerqueen767]

Helluva Boss Season Finale

So a homophobic client shows up and tells IMP to kill her husband for leaving her for a man and cheating (possibly.) IMP attempt to try and kill him but then Blizto can't do it cause of his feefees and cause he sees himself in that man. Forget that Blizto has killed many people for petty reasons before (Spring Broken is a good example, he literally killed tons of random people, many of which were probably gay, just because of a bet) and forget that he chastised Moxxie for doing the exact same thing (weird how Mox didn't bring that up honestly) NO, you can't criticize this gay man because he's so cute and gay. That's the message Viv is sending.

The moral of this episode is that if you criticize Stolas and Blizto's relationship, you're homophobic. Wowww... Just wow!

It couldn't possibly be because these two have absolutely no chemistry and only know eachother because of sex. It couldn't possibly be because Stolas made a creepy and predatory deal with Blizto. It couldn't possibly be because Stolas is a terrible person who lied to his daughter and is written terribly. Forget that Stolas risked his life for his fuck buddy when he should have stayed with his daughter. Forget that Blizto never wanted a serious relationship until now just because that's what the writers want. Forget everything I said and just sit back and watch Blizto and Stolas dance on the balcony since it's the only thing Viv cares about.

Stolizt is the only thing Viv cares about. That's what this episode proves once and for all. Their relationship is the only thing that had any meaningful continuity in season 1. Everything else was episodic material.

Maybe in Season 3 we'll focus on other things but it won't make up for the trainwreck of a Season this was.

Now, because I don't just want to be negative, let me talk about how this Season could have been 1000 times better. Let me offer a fix.

This Season would have been great if it split it's screen time 70-30 between the IMP stuff and the Stolas stuff. Let every member of IMP shine in their own episode. It's not like there isn't enough time. Explore Millie's prejudice against Hellhounds (cause we all know she doesn't respect Hellhounds.) Explore Millie's wrath and how it might help and hinder her. It might lead to devastating consequences depending on who she chooses to fight and why. Shoot first and ask questions later is not a good principle and I feel like that's exactly what she does. Have Loona and Via actually hang out! Show us how her timidness and introversion make that relationship start off rocky. Show us how she changes from a person who can barely hold a conversation in the Queen Bee episode to a person that would have a bunch of friends over for Sinsmas. That development WAS. NOT. THERE!!

Have Moxxie actually confront his fears. It looked like he was about to fight his dad but then he got tazed and his wife did all the work. Why? Have him stand up to Blizto finally and make Blizto respect him. Cause Blizto does not respect him. Look at the way he talks to him in Season 2 and tell me this is respectful. Plus, in the episode Truth Seekers he only congratulated Moxxie for killing well. That's it. He respects the work he does but not who he is as a person. That could have been explored in Season 2. That would have been a great arc.

As for Blizto show more of his relationship between him and his sister. Blizto brought Barbie up again in the finale and it sounds like they really want us to care about her character but she wasn't even in the flashback episode. In order to fix the flashback episode, get rid of Stolas! Don't make a flashback that includes Stolas at all. Just make it about life in the circus performing with Blizto, Barbie and Fizz.

And instead of a giant special episode about Fizz and his terrible boss how about an episode dedicated to Stolas and Via's relationship. Why not write a song about how they've lived their lives over the years. Show us what it was like to BE her.

I'm getting tired of writing now. I hope you enjoyed reading this, at least a little.

[spotlightlowlife]

IMPlying

Season finale was, fine.

What was expected really.

Can't say I didn't roll my eyes at Stolas being gloomy and ungrateful as others make efforts for him, particularly Blitzø but yet again all of IMP come to his rescue and there's not a shred of respect for the danger they put themselves in.

He had a massive nerve throwing down his notebook of 'fantasies' and trashing the office before charging off to see his daughter as if foregoing Blitzø and the modest little life he lives, after all this, forcing his way into Blitzø reality in the first place. All of this seems to imply passive blame.

This ofcourse happened while he was filling in for Loona as receptionist while the rest worked. I appreciate that we went back to work and we meet a dinner with a job request and there's a good joke that the request was to take out her husband who left her for a man resulting in Stolas having his drama shoved in his face.

It would have been good to spend a little more time with the sinner to see that she was in the wrong and for the moral high ground of IMP to be questioned more? Way too dismissive.

For all we know that husband could have been responsible for his wife becoming a sinner if you know what I mean, we don't know what happened to her.

Blitzø and Moxxie having a moment of shared understanding of why this isn't a good job to take on could look like a throwback to season one murder family but them no, it was all about Blitzø seeing himself and Stolas in two men with their children. What if this man had left his wife for another woman, would he be less empathetic? Ultimately nothing will change, if we see them at work in season 3 or a short, what are the chances that they include a clause to not do families or interfere in relationships? How could they vet?

We still don't know how sinners pay.

Also they're working on a holiday and missing out on a paid job because it's too close to home, even though Loona showed empathy to Blitzø and was willing to take in the job herself, which leads on to another thing...

More tell not show

Loona actually wanted to get out the office and do a job with the team.

Since when?

It really would have took two seconds once or twice in previous episodes to have her complaining about being stuck at the desk while they go out, maybe even reminding them that she has a hunan disguise, maybe then we could have found out when and how she learnt such magic and since when did she make friends? Her friends are very cute btw but when did this happen? Bee's sham of a party?

Seeing as she is supposed to be like a moody teen who us slowly growing up and learning to appreciate her dad, complaining more could have served as a reminder that there have been times where she could have had more responsibility. These recent episodes have had a habit of telling us new things out of nowhere after all this time.

Who has been consistent

I read tonnes of comments and the dislike for Octavia is astounding.

What did she do wrong?

She actually did everything right.

She saw for herself that her mother and uncle were enjoying Stolas's downfall, she wondered around her home and found her dad's pills, she came to the correct conclusion that he was always unhappy, didn't like Stella and was persevering for her, what's wrong with this, it's the truth.

He did go on to leave following his fling which he had been enjoying up until recently and we all saw him thirsting over Blitzø or arguing with Stella over quality time with his daughter on the few occasions we have seen her.

Furthermore she rescued Stolas and IMP.

And she didn't blame Blitzø for any of this.

I appreciate that she made a decision for herself and I'm amazed at the massive lack of compassion there is for her.

Her song sucked.

Also what was the confusing dialogue of Stolas trying to call for a month when we saw that he suddenly remembered that he had to talk with Octavia, who has a mobile and was seen with her phone alone, this was after Stella discouraged her from answering it, it wasn't ever confiscated?

And to not be forgotten for being stable

Why did the Millie pregnancy thing have to be so weird, miserable and the clifhanger like she was hiding something?

We watch her casually not get beaten down when it comes to being behind on the bills.

We see the teams lives in danger constantly.

We have watched her admit to liking attention.

We have seen how family oriented she is and dispite her family having no respect for her husband, she remains close with them and has both in her life.

Moxxie and Millie are constantly being pushed as the wholesome loved up couple and yes a pregnancy is a big deal that will change things but this maried couple are supposed to be kinky af and massively supportive of one another, so why was this so much more dramatic than nervousness? Should it not be a bigger deal that this character would seem gloomy? We heard none of Millie's conversation with her only friend sister.

We watched Sallie May's forced drama in the first short where Millie was supportive and didn't let herself be guilted and we watched Blitzø and Millie's (better late than never I suppose) backstory that showed how proud she was at how far they had come. Now she has a big secret and is it her pregnancy? Did she really need drama? Is this the only way she can get a story and we remember her during the break, to have her accompany all others in trauma?

[narcjsistx]

𝐑𝐔𝐍 𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐘 | OS

bachira meguru x fem reader ; words: 1.6k (1673)

coming from this event, seventh day, 24/12

𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ; take a look, trust me!

plot: running away from the cameras was the favorite thing you and meguru did every chance you got. your love was yours alone, why give the world just a small slice of everything you felt for each other? it would be a waste

Deciding to be together, so many years ago, had not been easy. You were both teenagers, you with your dream and he with his, and yet the red thread that tied your two fingers did not seem to want to break. Being together as an actual couple didn't seem like a feasible thing, even though you both wanted it

You liked Meguru Bachira from the very beginning. You began to understand that he would become your friend when, during recess in kindergarten, he was the only one interested in rocks like you. You began to understand that you cared about him when in elementary school he always showed you his collection of soccer balls, you who were his only friend. You began to understand that you loved him when, seeing him lose his childish features and take on those of a young boy, you wondered if he had suddenly become so handsome. You had seriously started to think that you loved him in a serious way and no longer as a simple crush when simply seeing him smile at you took your breath away

Bachira Meguru, on the other hand, understood that he loved you the moment you approached him, shy in your yellow apron

"What's your favorite rock?"

You had grown up together, seeing each other's changes. You were the only one her mother knew existed, the only one she considered a second daughter. There had been many afternoons in the past where he found you at his house, after finishing his training, chatting happily with Yuu as if it were nothing. His mother adored you, she loved you perhaps as much as her son loved you

Yuu knew his son, she knew that behind the tenderness with which he spoke to you there was a bigger feeling hidden, which he hid for the simple fear of distancing you from him. Yuu knew you too, and she knew that you loved his son back

Since you were a child, you dreamed of going to Spain, or more precisely living there. Since he was a child, Meguru dreamed of being able to play his soccer, the one he liked. You dreamed of going far away literally and he metaphorically

Neither of you would be with the other forever, that was the truth you didn't dare tell each other. Knowing this knowledge, neither of you would ever dare tell the other how you felt, or at least that's what you thought until the evening of the first day of the two-week vacation after the end of the U-20 match, when you found Bachira in front of your door professing his love for you

"I've realized a few things since I left, and the first is that it's no longer enough for me to just have the thought of loving you. You know I'm not the best with words, but you're the best at understanding me when I can't even... so I hope you can work your magic this time too and understand what I want to tell you"

Seeing him like this, so shy, was strange for you, who had been used to his chaotic side since you were children. But since he left there hadn't been a day in which you hadn't thought about him, how he was, how it was for him to know that he was chasing his dream. He had changed, and so had you, who had just accepted the request for an Erasmus in Spain for a year

But he didn't know that. And you didn't know that he was going to ask you to be his girlfriend

So yeah, deciding to be together all those years ago wasn't easy at all. You spent his two weeks off treating each other like a couple, even though you weren't actually one: you had walked under the moon, slept in each other's arms, you had even kissed a few times. But your flight left the day before he was due to return to the facility

"The flight is about to leave... I think I have to go"

"I know. Remember to be careful, in Spain they are different than us, more party-goers! But maybe you'll get used to it sooner than expected, knowing yourself"

"You're probably right. I'm going to Spain because I love their culture, you know"

"I know. But there's still something I don't know"

"What, Meguru?"

"Are we together or not?"

At the time, you had spent those two weeks wondering the same thing, wondering if he was actually yours and you were his. You thought about it because, even though you never said it out loud, you loved Meguru, you loved him so much. But the result was always the same: 'no, we are not together, you will continue your life here and for a year I will no longer be a part of your life, and maybe the year will become five and then ten'

But that wasn't what you told him

"Do you really want to be in a long distance relationship? I mean, you don't normally have much of a chance to talk to outsiders when you're in Blue Lock, and I won't be here when you have days off again. We'll never have time for each other, Meguru

"I didn't ask you that. Are we together or not?"

The question was simple, a yes or a no was enough. Yet, you didn't know which side to fall on

"It will be difficult, it will be for both of us"

"I know. But I'll live better if I know that you're my girl, Y/n-Chan!"

"Do you really want it that bad...?"

"Something like that. More or less since our first meeting, fifteen years ago"

Meguru was genuine, the best choice you could have made in all your lives. You knew he would never wrong you, hurt you, or get you angry

"We are together"

And so, from that moment on, you had done nothing but love each other with all the methods you could: messages and video calls when he could, letters sent to your new address and so much, so much love that you felt even without hearing from him for more than a few days. Spain was a beautiful sunny place, perfect for you and your character, but above all also for Bachira, who to your surprise had taken part in the Barcha club in Japan. While you were studying and living your dream, he was chasing a ball and living his dream; but you both lived with the knowledge of having each other, and it was so perfect for you

You hadn't seen each other for almost a year when Bachira told you that he would come to Spain to play his first match outside of Japan, and he would come to Barcelona, your city. So, after a year apart, you finally had the chance to hug and kiss your boyfriend again before the start of his match, with the entire stadium watching you. Some fans had recognized you as the same girl who ran to him to hug him at the end of the match against the U-20s, while others were now recognizing you as the alleged girlfriend of Lavinho's favourite, the girl the team captain held so tightly in his arms

The match ended with a victory for Barcha and a year long contact for your boyfriend. While you would return to Japan in a few months, he would remain in your new city. But this did not stop you from living in symbiosis for the remaining time, recovering all the contact that you had not been able to exchange from far away. You were finally with Bachira and you no longer had to just fantasize about being able to kiss him

"I don't even want to think about when you have to go back to Japan, it's like we're making a trade! I always want to be able to hold you in my arms, and yet you seem like you want to run away from me again"

"You know I don't like it either, but I can't stay here, I risk jail!"

"In prison for staying with your boyfriend? It doesn't sound so bad, Y/n-Chan!"

Yet, you had returned to Japan, leaving him far away from you again, this time with a slight increase in the possibility of texting you both than before. Everything was back to the beginning, and it was strange to think that until two years ago you had spent your whole life together, seeing each other every day but without kissing. But it all didn't last long: another Erasmus gave you the chance to go back to him, to Bachira, to your boyfriend. And so, everything went back to the beginning again, for your and his happiness

From that moment on, you had done nothing but run, run, and run again, always as far away from the cameras as possible; now that you finally had the chance to be together, why give others a show that was only for the two of you?. Meguru had become, however, in a short time, a star of the new generation of soccer, and consequently his fame had increased to the point that the cameras would do anything to have him theirs. And to know that Bachira, the striker of Barcha, was again with the girl he had kissed that day, his supposed girlfriend? This was even better, this made the cameras need you

The cameras wanted you, but you wanted more the kisses from your boyfriend, the ones he gave you while you ran hand in hand through the alleys of Barcelona, while you ran away from yet another newspaper that wanted to take a picture of you

You were together, you were actually a couple for more than two years. You hated the cameras and everything that included them, even Bachira thought the same thing. The cameras, if they had to be there, you would have wanted them only on the day you became Mrs. Bachira

TAG: @natmagaesp ; @kittenish0 ; @x3nafix ; @sirhamburrger

[bluerosefox]

Stellar Dynamics

You know what.

ANOTHER DPxDC idea (as if I write prompts for anything else lol ✍(◔◡◔)

And once again, I think I might have a hyperfixation rn, another deaged Dani (Ellie) and Dan (Dante)! and Dad!Danny.

And you know what, lets make it another DannyxConner idea.

Danny is on a field trip with his class (NOT in Gotham though, LOVE Gotham but lets go with a different city) in like Central City or Metropolis (If Metropolis, Danny is SUPER excited to see the space sections they have at the museum they no doubt have, because well SUPERMAN is an alien and based in their city. If in Central City Conner is visiting Bart.)

During the trip he bumps into Conner and the two just hit it off. Conner enjoys listening to Danny rant about space and the stars and finds watching Danny's eyes light up in joy kinda cute. And if he got his new hero name Supernova from listening to Danny's rants about the stars well... no one needs to know how he got it.

Danny likes how chill Conner is and how the guy stood against Dash and the other jocks when Dash decided he wanted to mess with Danny during the trip, a rare thing nowadays but sometimes Dash does try, and how he respects/likes Danny's friends.

He didn't even say anything negative or hurtful when he found out Danny has two kids back home.

In the end the two exchange numbers, flirt hard, and maybe set up a date in the future. And then more dates. Becoming boyfriends. AND meeting the family. Conner is smitten with just out of toddlerhood Ellie and toddler Dante and adores them. And he loves how the Fentons just love him the moment he stepped into their house and was introduced as Danny's boyfriend, he made sure to bring over a pie Ma should him how to make.

Things get a bit complicated when Conner, Supernova, is at a reunion of YJ members and his phone lights up with a text message from Danny.

He's smiling with a goofy/soft look when he opens the text and see's its a picture of Danny holding a pouting toddler Dante and Ellie on his lap smiling with a notable gap in her teeth at the camera. The message he got was 'Ellie wanted you to know she finally lost her first baby tooth. Dan's been grumpier, I think he misses you.'

He is pulled out of his happy thoughts and musings when he hears Bart gasp hard and drop a bowl of snacks onto the floor. Conner turns to from the future Speedster and see's him about to have a panic attack.

Bart, Impulse, is having a freak out after catching a glimpse of the text picture Conner had gotten and being nosy wanted to know what got his friend to smile so smitten. He knew of Conner's current boyfriend and the kids Conner adores but haven't had time to be introduced to them or even see a pic.

He wasn't expecting to see the very MONSTER of his NIGHTMARES that basically destroyed the world in the FUTURE as a toddler pouting at a camera and surrounded by two smiling identical looking people either. People he never saw in the future or with HIM AND-

Oh.... OH!

Was that why he turned evil? Did something happen to his family?

[mariquitascadoodles]

Since season 6 dropped and we got introduced and so sequentially stripped from bby girl Leola .

I was thinking of , how was she made ?

Like in the traditional sense of a union between 2 people or is there something more magical to it ?

There was never another mention or reference to a partner / other guardian figure for leola . dude was really out here being a single mother?

But i like to think leola herself , was created from something else , like she is magic itself ? Either created using dark magic / some sort of really strong life giving magic or she in turn is a single star/ small piece from aaravos's constellation .

As mentioned in season 6 , startouch elves are constellations themselves. Thus they can't really die , their physical body can but not their immortal one .

Who's to say aaravos didn't take a star or lil star cluster from his constellation and breathe life in to it .

So like a parent , she really was a part of him and when she left , that part of aaravos died along side with her .

Idk why he would have created a daughter , maybe dude really wanted to be a father ?

Idk ! Just some food for thought ! I've been turning this theory in my lil pea brain for a few months now . >u< I'm sure I'm not the only one to think this ! Let me know what u think tho !

If we get a second parental figure for leola in season 7 , THATS OKAY TOO !

Here is an image from tales of xadia that I think would be nice for this theory QwQ

[callsigns-haze]

Family Business

Summary: Hangman finally goes back to top gun and the daggers....well they want the tea

Warning: Contains alcohol, cursing, teasing, mentions of labour, postpartum.

Word count: 2636 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x reader

English is not my first language so I apologies for mistakes

Could be read alone or as part three of Little Life and Silly little life

Three weeks had passed since Jake had set foot on the Top Gun base, and as he walked into the hangar, he could feel all eyes on him. The usual hum of the hangar, the sounds of jets being prepped, filled the air, but this time it felt like he was walking into an ambush. He had been out of the game long enough for them to notice—and that meant one thing: relentless teasing.

As soon as he crossed the threshold, Phoenix spotted him and was on him like a hawk. “Well, look who finally decided to show his face,” she said with a grin, crossing her arms. “I was beginning to think you forgot how to fly, Hangman.”

Jake smirked, unbothered as he swaggered toward them. “I don’t forget anything, Trace.”

“Yeah, except how to show up,” Rooster chimed in, leaning against one of the jets. His aviators glinted in the sunlight as he shot Jake a smirk. “Where’ve you been, man? Can’t imagine someone like you being tied up with ‘family business.’ Sounds like an excuse to me.”

Jake rolled his eyes, leaning against a nearby crate. “Family business, Bradshaw. Not an excuse. It’s called responsibility, but I wouldn’t expect you to know much about that.”

Rooster raised an eyebrow, a cocky smile spreading across his face. “Responsibility? You? What, did you have to help your mom put up Christmas lights or something?”

Phoenix snorted, nudging Bob in the ribs. “Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin, family man. Didn’t think I’d see the day.”

Payback and Fanboy joined in, shaking their heads as they exchanged looks. “Hangman with family business? Did the world end while you were gone?” Payback teased. “Or is this some weird alternate universe we’re living in?”

Fanboy laughed, throwing up his hands. “Seriously, what kind of family business does someone like Hangman even have? I thought your whole life was flying and flirting.”

Jake shrugged, keeping his expression neutral despite the barrage of questions. “Family business is just that—family business. Nothing for you all to worry about.”

“Come on, man,” Bob finally spoke up, his quiet curiosity breaking through. “You’ve been gone for weeks. That’s not like you. We’re just trying to figure out what’s up.”

Jake could feel their eyes all on him, waiting for some sort of juicy explanation, but he wasn’t about to give them anything. Not yet. Not about Y/N, and definitely not about their daughter Ellie-Mae. The last thing he needed was the whole squad knowing about the tiny bundle of joy waiting for him back in Texas.

“I told you,” Jake said smoothly, his hands in his pockets as he kept his tone casual. “Just family stuff. Nothing to lose sleep over.”

Phoenix raised an eyebrow, her arms still crossed as she studied him. “You sure you didn’t get married while you were gone? Or maybe you’re secretly a CIA agent and just can’t tell us.”

Rooster laughed, shaking his head. “Nah, if Hangman was in the CIA, he wouldn’t be able to keep his mouth shut. He’d be bragging about it every chance he got.”

Jake shot Rooster a look, but before he could respond, Phoenix waved a hand. “Whatever. It’s not like you’re gonna tell us anything, so I’m not wasting any more of my time.”

The others murmured in agreement, their curiosity still piqued but knowing better than to press Jake any further. The teasing eased up, and they turned back to their tasks, still throwing the occasional glance his way. But Coyote—standing back, watching with his arms crossed—had remained quiet the entire time, a smirk tugging at his lips.

He was the only one who knew the truth, after all. Coyote had been there from the beginning, the one person Jake trusted with everything. He knew about Y/N, about the love that had blindsided Jake and changed his life in ways he never expected. And now, he knew about Ellie-Mae—their beautiful little girl with Jake’s eyes and Y/N’s fierce spirit. Coyote had kept Jake’s secret this whole time, and the amusement on his face showed just how much he was enjoying watching Jake dodge all the questions.

Once the teasing finally died down, Jake excused himself from the group, heading toward the locker room to grab his gear. He could still feel the weight of their eyes on his back, but it didn’t bother him. He was used to the squad’s prying, but he wasn’t ready to let them in on his new life just yet.

As he rounded the corner, making sure he was out of earshot, he heard footsteps behind him. Before he could turn around, Coyote’s hand landed on his shoulder, and he started shaking him playfully.

“Hangman,” Coyote laughed, gripping Jake’s shoulders as he gave him a few good shakes. “You lucky son of a bitch! Walking around here like nothing happened, when you’ve got a damn baby at home!”

Jake chuckled, turning around to face him, though he glanced over his shoulder to make sure the others weren’t following. “Keep your voice down, Javy. You trying to let the whole base know?”

Coyote let out another laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “Man, I still can’t believe it. Ellie-Mae, huh? I knew you were going soft when you started talking about Y/N, but a baby? That’s next-level.”

Jake grinned, unable to help himself as the thought of Ellie-Mae filled his mind. “Yeah, well, didn’t exactly plan on it, but… here we are.”

Coyote clapped him on the back, his eyes shining with genuine excitement. “You’re a dad now, bro. That’s wild. How’s it feel?”

Jake paused for a moment, letting the question sink in. He thought about Y/N, the late nights with Ellie in his arms, and the way his heart practically burst every time he looked at her. “It’s… crazy,” he admitted, his voice softening. “Hard to believe I could love someone that much. It’s terrifying, but in the best way.”

Coyote chuckled, shaking his head. “I bet. You better start getting used to diapers and spit-up, man. You’re in for a wild ride.”

Jake rolled his eyes, though the grin never left his face. “Yeah, well, it’s worth it. Y/N and Ellie—they’re everything.”

Coyote’s expression softened as he gave Jake another firm clap on the shoulder. “You’re a lucky guy, Hangman. You know that, right?”

Jake nodded, a quiet smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, Javy. I know.”

With that, they stood there for a moment in silence, the weight of everything unsaid hanging between them. Coyote was right—Jake was lucky. Luckier than he ever thought possible. And as much as he loved flying, he knew that his real world was waiting for him back home.

That evening, the Dagger squad made it their mission to squeeze answers out of Jake—answers they knew he wasn’t going to give up willingly. But their tactics had shifted from teasing to something more strategic: drinks. They’d dragged him to the bar near the base, determined to make him pay for disappearing for three weeks without so much as a solid explanation.

Phoenix nudged him as they settled around a table. “Alright, Hangman, since you won’t tell us where you’ve been, the least you can do is buy the first round.”

Jake rolled his eyes, but his grin never faltered. “Oh, I see how it is. You think a few drinks are gonna loosen my tongue?”

Rooster smirked from across the table. “You never know. Maybe after a couple of shots, you’ll be singing like a bird.”

The whole squad chuckled at that, and even Jake had to laugh, though he wasn’t planning on revealing anything. “Fine, fine,” he said, standing up. “But don’t expect any stories. This is just because I’m a generous guy.”

Payback clapped him on the back as he headed toward the bar. “We’ll take what we can get, man. You owe us.”

Jake made his way through the crowd, ordered the drinks, and carried the tray back to the table where the squad was already lining up a game of pool. The atmosphere was lively, the sounds of laughter and clinking glasses filling the air. He handed out the drinks, then leaned against the pool table, chalking up a cue as Rooster took the first shot.

But just as Jake was about to join in, his phone started buzzing in his pocket. He glanced down at the screen, and his heart did a little flip when he saw Y/N’s name pop up, along with the FaceTime icon.

“Of course,” Phoenix muttered when she saw him glance at his phone. “Let me guess—more ‘family business’?”

Jake smirked, putting the cue down. “Yeah, something like that. I gotta take this.”

A collective groan rose from the squad. “Come on, man!” Rooster protested, lining up his next shot. “Can’t it wait?”

Jake shook his head. “Not this time, Bradshaw. You guys keep playing. I’ll be back.”

He slipped outside the bar, leaving the noise behind as he stepped into the cool evening air. The streetlights cast a soft glow on the sidewalk, and he found a quiet spot away from the crowds before answering the call. As the screen connected, the familiar sight of Y/N’s desk came into view. She was sitting there, her hair tied back in a messy bun, wearing one of Jake’s old t-shirts. But what really caught his attention was the tiny bundle wrapped against her chest—Ellie, snug in her baby wrap, sound asleep.

Jake’s heart swelled at the sight of them, and his usual cocky grin softened into something more genuine. “Hey, darlin’,” he said, his voice low. “How’re my girls doing?”

Y/N smiled, her eyes tired but full of love. “We’re good. She just went down after her evening fuss. Thought I’d call you before it gets too late.”

Jake leaned against the wall, his smile widening as he watched Ellie’s little chest rise and fall with each soft breath. “She’s getting bigger every day,” he said, his voice filled with wonder. “I swear she looks different already.”

Y/N chuckled softly. “That’s because she is. You’re missing out on all her growth spurts while you’re out there playing pool and buying your squad drinks.”

Jake winced playfully. “Busted. Yeah, they dragged me out tonight, trying to get me to spill where I’ve been. They don’t know about you or Ellie yet.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Still keeping us a secret, huh?”

“For now,” Jake said, his tone softer. “I just want to keep this between us a little longer, you know?”

She nodded, her hand gently resting on Ellie’s back. “I get it. We’re your secret weapon.”

Jake’s smile softened even more, his heart swelling with how perfect this moment felt. “Exactly. How’s Ellie been today? No more colic?”

“She’s been a little angel today,” Y/N said, glancing down at the sleeping baby. “I think the baby wrap helps. She loves being close like this.”

Jake’s gaze lingered on them, a quiet longing in his eyes. “I miss you both so much,” he murmured. “Wish I could be there.”

“We miss you too,” Y/N said, her voice filled with warmth. “But we’ll be here when you get back. And maybe next time, you can tell the squad the real reason why you’ve been missing.”

Jake chuckled softly, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, maybe. One day. But not yet. For now, I’m keeping you two all to myself.”

Y/N smiled, her eyes soft as they locked onto his through the screen. “We wouldn’t have it any other way.”

They stayed like that for a moment, just watching each other through the screen, neither wanting to hang up. Finally, Jake sighed. “Alright, darlin’. I should let you get some rest. I’ll call you again tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay,” she said, her voice soft. “We’ll be waiting. Love you, Jake.”

“Love you too,” he said, his voice warm as he ended the call. He lingered for a moment, staring at the blank screen, already missing them more than he thought possible.

With a deep breath, he tucked his phone back into his pocket and headed back inside, ready to face the squad again, but this time with a little more peace in his heart.

The moment he crossed the threshold, Rooster spotted him, leaning on his pool cue with a cocky grin. “Oh great, he’s back. And look at him—moping around like a lovesick puppy.”

Phoenix, already lining up her next shot, glanced up and smirked. “I thought you were supposed to be Hangman, not Hang-up-the-phone-and-sulk man.”

The rest of the squad laughed, and even Bob, always the quiet one, chuckled under his breath. “What was that, your mom calling to check up on you?”

Jake rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t quite muster his usual bravado. “Ha, ha. Very funny, Baby on board.”

Payback, who had been eyeing him from the bar, raised his glass in Jake’s direction. “No, seriously, man. Who’s got you all down and out? You were fine before you left to take that call, now you look like someone kicked your dog.”

Fanboy leaned back in his chair, grinning wide. “I’ll bet it’s a girl. That’s the only thing that ever makes a guy like Jake Seresin go all soft.”

Jake shot him a look, but there was no real bite to it. “You all have way too much time on your hands, you know that?”

“Come on, Hangman, spill it,” Rooster pressed, the competitive glint in his eyes still there even after the teasing. “You’re not this distracted unless it’s something big. Or someone.”

Jake shook his head, not ready to let them in on the truth. He leaned on the pool table, picking up a cue as if nothing had changed. “It’s just family stuff, like I said. Nothing you need to worry about.”

“Yeah, we’ll believe that when you stop looking like you’re about to write a country song,” Phoenix said, taking her shot and sinking a ball into the corner pocket.

The whole squad chuckled, and Jake couldn’t help but smirk at that one. “Real original, Trace.”

But despite the banter, it was clear that Jake’s head wasn’t entirely in the game. He took a lazy shot, missing a pocket he would normally nail without even thinking. Rooster raised an eyebrow at the miss, exchanging a look with Phoenix.

“Wow, you really are off your game tonight,” Rooster teased. “First you disappear for three weeks, now you can’t even make a simple shot? Whoever’s on the other end of that phone call must be something special.”

Jake leaned on the table, sighing a little as he looked at the group. “Maybe I’m just tired of carrying you guys all the time.”

“Oh, so now we’re back to old Hangman,” Payback said with a grin. “Nice to see some things don’t change.”

But even as Jake tried to join back in the banter, his heart wasn’t in it. His thoughts kept drifting back to Y/N and Ellie, to the soft rise and fall of Ellie’s chest, the way Y/N had smiled at him through the screen. It was a different kind of responsibility weighing on him now, one that made everything else seem a little less important.

Phoenix narrowed her eyes at him, clearly not buying the act. “You’re seriously going to keep us in the dark, aren’t you?”

Jake shrugged, still playing it off. “Family business, Trace. That’s all it is.”

The squad groaned in unison, but the teasing softened, and the game went on. Yet as the night wore on, Jake couldn’t quite shake that faraway look in his eyes, no matter how many jokes the others threw his way. And though they kept up the ribbing, no one pressed him for more, leaving the mystery of his absence hanging in the air, unanswered.

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[keeryhours]

i like the way you kiss me - rafe cameron

Baby daddy! Rafe x Baby mama! Maybank! Reader

Masterlist

Rafe Cameron Masterlist

More Baby Daddy! Rafe

Summary:

i like the way you kiss me

i can tell you miss me

i can tell it hits, hits, hits, hits

not tryna be romantic,

i’ll hit it from the back

just so you don’t get attached

Rafe stops over for a surprise visit with his daughter. She may not be home, but that doesn’t mean he has to leave, does it?

Warnings:

Smut (18+ only!), p in v, fingering, dirty talk, slight breeding kink

Word Count: 4.2k

A/N:

Yay, my first Rafe fic! And y’all I haven’t written smut in years so I hope this isn’t awful. I would love to turn this into a sort-of series of interconnected baby daddy! Rafe and baby mama! reader one shots if you guys would be interested in that!

—

“Maaaamaaaaa!”

You couldn’t help but smile to yourself when you were woken up by the baby monitor. Iris never woke up angry and crying, you were greeted every morning to the sounds of her babbling to herself and calling for you.

It may have been earlier than you’d like, but it certainly wasn’t a bad way to wake up.

You climbed out of bed, wiping your eyes before standing and walking down the hall towards the nursery. There was a chorus of “Mamamamama” as you headed towards your 1 year old daughter, who greeted you standing in her crib with the biggest smile. Her sleep sack was tucked beneath her feet - you’re not sure how she even manages to stand in it.

“Hi, pretty girl,” you greeted her, earning a giggle from the baby. She never failed to brighten up your mood, just by existing. You always heard a parent’s love for their child is intense, but you didn��t quite believe it until you had her and experienced it yourself.

She also happens to be the cutest baby to ever exist. With her head full of brown hair and blue eyes, she is certainly her father’s daughter. She’s tall for her age, too. You thought it was a little bit bullshit that you carried her for 9 months and did all the hard work just for her to come out her dad’s twin, but how could you really complain when she was so beautiful?

Iris lifted her arms for you to pick her up, and you couldn’t help but give her a snuggle before you moved to the changing table. You got her changed out of her pajamas and into a clean diaper, dressing her for the day in a light green dress with bunnies embroidered on the chest, a long sleeve white shirt underneath.

Iris had an extensive wardrobe. Shopping for clothes and putting together outfits was one of your favorite parts of being a girl mom, so you were certainly guilty of overspending on her, but the truth was that most of her closet came from Rafe. In fact, most of her stuff in general was from Rafe.

You never asked him to do any of that, but he was always showing up unannounced with shopping bags full of baby clothes, toys, anything he saw and thought she would like. Random packages would show up throughout the week, stuff he found online and sent directly to your house. He spoiled her badly, but it made them both happy, so you didn’t complain. You wanted her to have the world, anything she wanted, and you couldn’t quite provide that, but Rafe could.

“Good morning, my favorite tiny person!” Your twin brother, JJ, greeted his niece as he walked into the pink bedroom. She giggled the second she saw him, and he scooped her into his arms, twirling her around and making her laugh harder.

“JayJay!” she exclaimed, her tiny hands reaching for his messy blonde hair immediately.

“And I also exist…” you mumbled as you threw the dirty diaper away in the pail, but you couldn’t help the smile on your lips.

JJ acknowledged you with an eye roll before turning right back to Iris. “Are you ready for a day out with Uncle JJ?”

Iris grinned wildly at her uncle, one of her favorite people in the world. She didn’t exactly know what that meant, but if it involved JJ, she was certainly happy to be there.

You made pancakes for breakfast, which both JJ and Iris absolutely devoured. Iris was covered in a mess of syrup when she was finished, but thanks to a combination of her bib and baby smock thing, she didn’t get a drop on her outfit. You cleaned up her face and hands, Iris fighting you the entire time.

“You have everything she needs?” You asked nervously as JJ packed up the diaper bag, Iris dancing in front of the TV to the Bluey theme song.

“I got diapers, wipes, a sippy cup, a change of clothes…I think I’m set, sis,” he said, giving a look that says calm down, I’ve got this.

It was hard for you to not be nervous letting your daughter go off without you. She was still rarely out of your sight, besides Rafe’s weekends. You were too nervous to send her to daycare, at least not yet, and Rafe agreed, so he helped pay the bills in the house you shared with JJ while you stayed home with her, which gave you the chance to work on college courses online.

“You packed snacks in case she gets hungry?” You asked, fiddling with the string of your pajama shorts. You hadn’t even had the chance to get changed into real clothes yet, since you’d been following Iris around all morning and making sure she was set to go.

“Yes,” JJ answered, sounding frustrated. “I’ve got this. We won’t even be gone long, she’s going to be fine.”

You probably would have come up with another question, but you were all interrupted by the front door opening as someone let themselves into the house like they owned the place. You and JJ looked towards the direction of the hallway as the sound of footsteps trailed down it, even though you definitely already knew who it was.

“Dada!” Iris practically squealed, and she ran as fast as her little legs would carry her towards the tall frame of her father, who was grinning like crazy and setting down a bag.

“There’s my girl,” he said, crouching down with his arms open wide to catch her. She tripped over her own feet at the last second, falling against his chest as he wrapped his arms around her, standing to his full height again. Iris wrapped her tiny arms around his neck.

“She was just about to head out for a date with Uncle JJ,” you said, smiling at your daughter’s laughing face.

Rafe looked away from her to give you a questioning look. “Why is JJ taking her?” he asked like your brother wasn’t even in the room. JJ rolled his eyes, but didn’t bother to say anything.

“He wanted to spend time with her,” you answered. “And I have a big exam to take so I needed a couple hours alone.”

Rafe looked at you like he was confused, concerned. He was protective of his girl. “If you needed someone to watch her, you should have called me.”

“I know you’d watch her any time,” you said, not wanting to argue with him today. “But JJ really has been wanting to take her to the park, so I told him he could.”

Rafe’s eyes finally went to JJ, and he scoffed with a roll of his eyes, but didn’t push it. He sat Iris back down as JJ zipped up the diaper bag and slung it over his shoulder, picking up the car keys.

“Alright, little lady, ready to go?” JJ asked, a smile on his face as Iris danced around.

“Go! Go!” She chanted, jumping up and down. JJ picked her up, sitting her on his hip.

“Alright. We’re gone,” he said, leaning over to give you a kiss on the cheek. “See you guys later.”

“Have fun!” you called after them. “Be safe!”

JJ acknowledged you with a “Yep!” and then the front door was closing, leaving you alone with Rafe.

You looked at him. He didn’t look like he was in a rush to leave.

“What did you bring?” you asked, gesturing to the bag he had sat by his feet.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” he shrugged. “Just some clothes.”

You laughed lightly to yourself - the little girl already had so many clothes, you weren’t sure if she’d be able to wear them all before she grew out of them.

You took the bag from him, sitting it down on the couch to go through later. You always liked to wash her clothes before letting her wear them, because who knows what kind of germs they’ve picked up in the store.

Rafe trailed behind you as you walked back into the kitchen, picking up the dishes from breakfast and washing them in the sink. He stood next to you without a word and helped by drying them after you washed.

When you were done, you turned around, leaning against the counter. Rafe picked up the stack of dishes and put them away in the cabinet they go in, before walking over to stand right in front of you. He reached up, pushing your hair behind your shoulder.

“You look pretty,” he murmured, his eyes taking in your frame.

You laughed softly. “I haven’t even changed out of my pajamas. I just rolled out of bed.”

A smile played at Rafe’s lips, his hand moving to rest on your cheek. “So? You’re always pretty.”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help the way your heart beat harder in your chest, your cheeks beginning to heat. “Didn’t you have a date last night, Rafe?”

That made him chuckle. “You knew about that, huh?”

You felt embarrassed, then. You weren’t supposed to know that. The only reason you did was because Sarah had told you. You weren’t supposed to care.

“It was nothing,” he continued. “We didn’t really click. She was…boring.”

You felt guilty for the satisfaction that brought you. Rafe hadn’t had a serious girlfriend since you had gotten pregnant, and you liked it that way. You and Rafe weren’t good for each other, you broke up long ago and it should stay that way. But you can’t help how jealous you feel any time the topic of Rafe and another girl comes up, and Rafe always seems to catch an attitude with you for days every time you mention seeing a guy.

“Well I’m sorry to hear that,” you lied, highly aware of how close he was standing to you now.

His thumb rubbed over your cheek before he moved it to your lips, tracing over them, pulling down slightly on your bottom lip.

“Missed you…” he muttered, his voice low. You felt the vibrations of it through your own body.

Despite your best judgment, your mind went hazy around him. You could feel his breath against your cheek. “I’ve missed you too,” you whispered back, like a fool.

He smirked at that, and then before you knew what was happening, he was leaning in, pressing his lips to yours. They molded together perfectly, as they always did. Rafe’s lips were soft against yours as he kissed you gently at first, almost as if he was testing the waters.

The kiss became more hungry before long, and then he was pressing his body closer to yours, one hand staying on your cheek while the other moved down to rest on your hip. He had his body pressed against yours, practically devouring you with his kiss, his tongue tracing along your bottom lip.

You let him in. Of course you did, you always do.

His tongue pressed into your mouth like it belongs to him. There’s never been anything shy about Rafe. You heard yourself moan into the kiss before you even realized it was you that made the noise, and you felt Rafe’s lips turn up into a grin as he kissed you.

His big hands trailed down your body until he bent down and they reached the backs of your thighs, then he was lifting you up, causing you to squeal and wrap your legs around his waist, giggling against his lips. He laughed too, and he began walking through the house and back towards your bedroom.

He dropped you on the bed and you looked up at him, already breathless. He wasted no time before he was crawling over you, his right hand leaning on the bed and his left sliding beneath the hem of your tank top. It slid up until he was cupping your bare breast, grabbing it and gently pinching at your nipple, drawing a moan from your lips.

He placed kisses all over your neck, gently biting every now and then, as his hand kept up its movements. “You always had the perfect fucking tits,” he groaned against your skin.

He sat up, his other hand joining in on your other breast. He yanked your tank top up to palm at your tits more, giving himself full view of them, thoroughly enjoying himself. Eventually he pulled the thin material over your head entirely, tossing it onto the floor carelessly.

Then he leaned forward again, wrapping his lips around one of your nipples, making you moan in pleasure as his hand slipped beneath the waistband of your shorts. His fingertips traced along your pussy over your panties, feeling how wet the material was already. That made him groan against your tits, sending a shock of vibrations through your sensitive nipple.

“Feels like you’ve been wanting this,” he said, satisfied with the effect he still has on you.

You didn’t even bother denying that. You wanted him desperately. His every touch was like electricity, and all you wanted was to feel him inside you again.

His hand moved up to slip beneath your panties, and you gasped when you felt his fingertips teasing over your slick folds. He moved up to press his lips to yours again, kissing you passionately as he pressed a finger against your entrance.

“Rafe…” you breathed out against his lips, and he groaned at the sound of his name on your tongue. He never got tired of it.

“You gonna be a good girl for me?” he asked, placing kisses around your mouth, over your cheek.

“Yes,” you promised him. You would have promised him anything in that moment, you think.

He pushed one long finger into you then, and you whined, back arching slightly. His eyes darted down to your chest at the movement, and you would have laughed at his obsession with your tits if you weren’t distracted by the feeling of his finger knuckle deep inside you.

He curled it up, pressing right up against that bundle of nerves deep inside you. You’re losing your mind from one finger - it really had been too long.

He added in another finger, stretching you further, and you felt the cold from his ring as he pushed both fingers in all the way. It sent shivers through your body. You were desperate for him to move, to just fuck you already, but he always liked to take his time with you.

After what felt like an eternity, he slowly began to pull his fingers out before pushing them back in. The pace was agonizingly slow, but he was also pushing against that perfect spot every time he thrusted his fingers all the way back inside.

“More, please,” you begged him, your eyes fluttering closed and body writhing beneath him with desperation. You began to push your hips down against his hand, begging him to move faster.

“Look at you,” he chuckled darkly, and you could hear the grin in his voice without having to open your eyes. “Fucking yourself on my fingers. You were always such a needy little slut.”

You felt yourself blushing at his dirty words, but they also only turned you on more, and you started moving your hips along the length of his fingers even faster. He groaned at the sight of you, and he began thrusting his fingers into you at a powerful pace, wanting to reward you for being good for him.

His palm pressed against your clit, rubbing against it perfectly as he kept hitting that perfect spot over and over.

You felt that familiar feeling building deep in your belly, and your thighs began trembling. Rafe noticed, picking up his movements.

“Feel good, baby? Gonna cum on my fingers?” he teased, watching your face with full interest.

“Yes,” you whined, feeling like your vision was going blurry. You felt it through every part of your body, and your pussy clenched tight around his fingers, which he couldn’t get enough of.

Your orgasm crashed through you without warning and you cried out, body arching and hips rocking against his hand even harder. Rafe worked you through it, praising you, watching you come undone on nothing but his fingers.

“Good little whore,” he praised, watching you hungrily. “You want my cock now?”

“Yes!” you answered quickly, practically yelling it. “Yes, please, Rafe.”

Satisfied with your answer, he removed his fingers from your pussy, making you whine at the empty feeling, despite the incredible orgasm you just came down from. Your eyes popped open and you made eye contact as he put his slick fingers in his mouth, sucking them clean with a groan.

He moved to his knees between your legs, pulling his own shirt over his head and tossing it away. You took in the sight of his muscular chest, toned abs, thick biceps. You felt like you were drooling over him. Your attention didn’t escape his notice, and he laughed.

His big hands slid over your smooth tanned legs, from your calves to your thighs. He squeezed them, and then he was moving even further up, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your shorts and panties and pulling them down together.

When you were completely bare before him, he drank in your naked body, eyes raking over you with obvious hunger. You could see the prominent bulge in his khaki colored shorts, and you wanted so badly to reach out and touch it.

His hands moved to his belt, and he made quick work of his pants, undoing them and pushing them down his legs. He was left in his boxers, and you did reach forward then, trailing your fingers lightly over his clothed cock.

He groaned at your touch, his hips involuntarily bucking forward. He didn’t say it, but you suspected it had been a while for him, too, and the thought of that pleased you. He gripped your wrist roughly, stopping your movements but looking like he really hadn’t wanted to.

“I don’t have long today,” he said, his breathing heavy now. “Made plans. We have to be quick.”

He pushed his boxers down his thighs, revealing his cock, already painfully hard and aching, pre cum smeared at his tip. You took in the sight of it like you were starving. He was so big, it had intimidated you the first time you slept together. Hell, it intimidated you now. You wanted to take him in your mouth, but that’s not what he had in mind today.

He crawled back over you, leaning on his arms on either side of your shoulders. He leaned down to kiss you deeply, then moved to placing kisses along your jawline and down your neck, over your chest. It was nice, and you sighed at the feeling.

“You’re still on the pill, right?” he questioned as you felt his thick length pressing up against your core. You shivered at the feeling.

“Yes,” you answered. As cute as Iris was, you both could agree that you didn’t need another accidental pregnancy when you weren’t even together.

“Good,” he replied, and then he was reaching down between your bodies, lining his tip up with your entrance.

When he finally pushed inside you, you gasped at the stretch, gripping onto his biceps for leverage, which he loved. He pushed into you slowly, knowing it had been a while since you’d been together and not wanting to hurt you. When he bottomed out, he stilled, but his body was shaking like all he wanted to do was fuck into you senselessly.

You let out a shaky exhale, and he kissed you again.

“You feel so perfect, like you’re made for me,” he breathed against your lips, and you moaned at his words.

“You can move,” you told him. “I can take it.”

He groaned at that, and then he slowly pulled out until only the tip remained inside of you, and you found yourself hating the empty feeling he left behind. Then he pushed back in slowly yet powerfully with a roll of his hips, and you felt full again.

He set a gentle pace at first, rocking into you deeply but softly. He kissed you as he moved, distracting you from any potential pain, wanting to keep your focus on him and how good he makes you feel. Because no one does it like him.

“More,” you pleaded when there was no trace of pain left, and all you wanted him to do was fuck you properly. “Harder, please, Rafe.”

You didn’t have to tell him twice. He picked up the pace, rutting into your tight heat faster. He buried his face in your neck, groaning at the feeling of you wrapped so tightly around him.

Whimpers and moans fell from your own lips uncontrollably as he fucked you hard, his cock diving even deeper into you than you remembered and making you see stars. Your nails dug into his back, leaving deep red scratches that made him hiss in a mix of pain and pleasure. He loved it when you marked him up.

His sat up more on his knees and his hands grasped the bottoms of your thighs, pushing them up until they were pressed against your chest, making it harder to breathe but also letting him fuck you at a new angle that was impossibly deep and overwhelming.

You let out a strangled moan at the new feeling, and Rafe grunted harshly with every brutal thrust into your pussy.

“Love this fucking cunt,” he grunted out through gritted teeth, a slight sheen of sweat on his tanned skin. “Always think about it. Always come back to it. Can’t fucking get enough of it.”

He moved one hand back to your clit, rubbing circles over it as he fucked you deep. You gasped, moaning loudly as he built up another orgasm in your body, that familiar heat spreading all over you.

“Rafe…’m so close…” you whined out, which only made him move even harder.

“Cum for me again, baby. All over my cock this time. You can do it, baby, I’m right here.” he’s breathing heavily as he speaks, his own release building rapidly.

The tension snaps, and you cum hard, thighs trembling around his body and his name spilling from your lips like a prayer. He worked you through it again, his fingers continuing to work circles over your clit until it became too much.

When you came down from your second high and were left a shaking mess beneath him, he moved both hands back to grip your thighs against your chest as he fucked into you roughly, chasing his own high that was so, so close.

“Gonna fill you up in a second, baby,” he grunts out, watching the way you look up at him, looking completely cock drunk because of him. “You want that?”

“Yes,” you managed to tell him, your body weak now. “Want you to cum in me deep.”

“Yeah?” he questioned, your words clearly doing something to him. “I bet you would like that. I bet you’d love if I put another baby in you, wouldn’t you, whore?”

All you could do was moan in response, taking everything he gave you. His pace began to falter, his hips stuttering as he took everything he wanted from you. He pushed into you as deep as he could, stilling, leaning forward to bury his face in your neck again as he groaned loudly and filled you deeply. You grasped the back of his head as he came inside you, holding him close.

He didn’t move for a minute when he was done. He stayed on you, catching his breath, as you held him back.

Eventually he pulled out of you, collapsing next to you with a big sigh. He wiped his hand across his forehead, breathing heavily. It was silent but for the sounds of the two of you catching your breath.

Finally, you spoke. “You really missed me, huh?” you teased him, looking over at his naked form on your bed.

He laughed, lifting himself up. “‘Course I did. I always do.” He stood from the bed and began to pull his clothes back on, tossing you yours as he found them. When he was dressed, you finally stood from the bed, still naked, about to head into the bathroom for a shower.

“I gotta get going,” Rafe said, pulling his shoes back on. “But I’ll see you soon.”

“Yeah. I have to do my exam.” You watched him as he stood, his full 6’2” form towering over you.

“I’ll text you,” he said, leaning forward and placing a kiss on your cheek. It felt intimate, and it made you blush. “Give Iris kisses for me when they get home. Let me know she gets back safe.”

“I will,” you promised him.

He gave you one last smile, and then he was gone. You heard the front door closing as you gathered up some clean clothes to change into after your shower.

When you got out of the shower, you smiled to yourself as you saw the missed text from Rafe. You opened it, and rolled your eyes as you read it, but you couldn’t wipe the grin off your face anyway.

Rafey

Miss you already.

[pucksandpower]

Free Fucking Country

Max Verstappen x First Daughter of the US!Reader

Summary: the FIA needs a reality check — you’ve known this since they decided to punish your grown ass boyfriend for daring to say “fucked” in a press conference — and what better way to do this than by taking full advantage of your First Amendment rights … live on camera?

The Texas sun beats down on the circuit. You’re standing off to the side, watching the race from a monitor, arms crossed. There’s an edge to your stance, a tightness in your jaw that no one’s missed, least of all Nico Rosberg.

“You look like you’re going to murder someone,” Nico says, chuckling under his breath. “Who’s the unlucky victim?”

You shoot him a sideways glance, not quite smiling. “Not someone. More like the entire FIA.”

Jenson Button raises a brow from his spot beside Nico. He’s been fiddling with a microphone, but now his full attention is on you. “Ah. Still upset about Singapore, then?”

You roll your eyes. “Still upset? I’m livid, Jenson. They punished Max for swearing. Swearing. Like, are we adults or are we running a kindergarten here?”

Nico and Jenson exchange a look, trying and failing to suppress a laugh.

“They’ve done worse to other drivers, to be fair,” Nico says, playing the diplomat despite the thirst for drama you know is itching to escape.

“I don’t care!” Your voice rises a little, and you realize you’re pacing now, hands flying around in frustration. “They target Max like he’s public enemy number one, and I swear it’s just because he’s honest. They can’t handle it when someone actually tells the truth!”

Nico nods, clearly amused by your rant but trying to stay neutral. “True. Max does have a ... blunt way of putting things.”

“He shouldn’t have to censor himself. It’s not like he was even that bad. They act like he threatened to burn down the paddock.” You huff, coming to a stop in front of Nico. “It’s just so stupid.”

Nico leans back, crossing his arms. “So, what are you going to do? You’re not exactly on the FIA’s Christmas card list either.”

A slow grin spreads across your face, and Nico’s eyebrows shoot up. “Oh no. I don’t like that look. That’s trouble.”

Jenson smirks. “What’s she planning?”

“I need a favor,” you say, eyes glinting with mischief. You glance over at the camera setup behind them. “Can I borrow your camera for a minute?”

Both men stare at you like you’ve grown a second head.

“You want to go live? On Sky Sports?” Jenson asks, blinking in disbelief.

You shrug. “Why not?”

Nico shakes his head, laughing under his breath. “You’re something else.”

But he steps aside, making way for you to take his place. “Alright, have at it. Just … maybe don’t get us all banned from the paddock, yeah?”

You wink. “No promises.”

Without missing a beat, you step in front of the camera, and within seconds, you’re live. Your pulse quickens, adrenaline buzzing in your veins. The weight of the moment hits you, but it only fuels your determination.

You clear your throat. “Hi, everyone! It’s me, your friendly neighborhood First Daughter, coming to you live from the US Grand Prix. Now, before we get back to the race, I have something I need to get off my chest.”

Nico and Jenson are barely holding back their laughter behind you, but you ignore them, fixing your gaze on the lens.

“Max Verstappen got punished for swearing during a press conference last week. Punished. For swearing. And you know what? That’s bullshit.”

The words fly out of your mouth, sharp and unfiltered. There’s a moment of stunned silence around you as people start to realize what’s happening.

You keep going, voice rising with every sentence. “The FIA is out of control. They’re so focused on micromanaging everything that they’ve forgotten what this sport is supposed to be about. Racing. Competition. Passion.”

Nico’s eyes widen as he leans toward Jenson. “Oh my God, she’s really doing it.”

Jenson just grins, watching in awe. “This is the best thing I’ve ever seen.”

You don’t let up. “You want to punish someone for being honest? For being real? Then punish me too, because I’m about to say a hell of a lot more.”

You can see people gathering around, eyes glued to the monitors. You’ve got their attention now, and you’re not backing down.

“The FIA is so far up their own asses, they can’t see what’s really going on. Drivers are out there risking their lives, pushing the limits, and all they care about is how polite they are in a press conference? Are you fucking kidding me?”

You wave your hands around, the frustration boiling over. “I’m sick of this shitty double standard. Max gets penalized for cursing, but the countless times that the FIA has done something much worse? Silence. It’s ridiculous.”

By now, there’s a crowd forming around you. You see a few FIA officials watching from the corner, looking like they’re trying to figure out what to do. You don’t stop.

“If the FIA wants to keep policing language, they should start by looking at themselves. They’re a bunch of fucking hypocrites who don’t know the first thing about what it takes to be a real racer. They’re killing the spirit of the sport.”

Just then, you spot one of the stewards marching toward you, followed by two security guards. You flash a grin at the camera. “Oh look, here they come. The fun police.”

The steward, a stern-looking man with a clipboard, stops right in front of you. “Ma’am, you need to leave immediately.”

You laugh, leaning into the camera, making sure everyone’s still watching. “Really? You’re gonna kick me out for talking? Last time I checked, this is a free fucking country. First Amendment, bitches! Try to shut me up, I dare you.”

The steward’s face reddens. “You need to leave, now.

But before the security guards can even move, your Secret Service detail materializes out of nowhere, surrounding you. They stand tall, arms crossed, ready to intervene.

You laugh again, this time louder. “Oh, you didn’t think about that, did you? You can’t kick me out. What are you gonna do, arrest the President’s daughter on live TV?”

The steward looks like he’s about to explode, but there’s nothing he can do. He steps back, clearly out of his depth, while the camera continues rolling.

You take a deep breath, calming down just enough to finish your rant with a flourish. “So, FIA, if you’re watching — and I know you are — get your act together. Start treating the drivers like adults, and stop with the petty bullshit. Or I swear, I’ll make it my mission to drag you on the broadcast every single fucking race.”

Before you can say anything else, you feel a presence beside you. You turn just in time to see Max walking up, eyes wide, clearly catching on to what’s happening. He looks from you to the cameras, then back to you, a slow smile spreading across his face.

Without a word, he steps forward, wraps an arm around your waist, and pulls you in for a kiss. It’s sudden, unexpected, but it’s the kind of kiss that makes time stop, the kind that speaks louder than words.

When he pulls away, there’s a smirk playing on his lips. “You always know how to make a scene.”

You shrug, a mischievous grin on your face. “Someone’s gotta stand up for you.”

Max laughs, shaking his head. “Well, you sure did.”

Nico and Jenson are clapping from behind, both of them thoroughly entertained. Jenson leans into the camera, grinning from ear to ear. “Ladies and gentlemen, Y/N Y/L/N, everybody.”

You step back, still grinning, feeling the adrenaline pumping through your veins. The steward looks like he’s given up entirely, and the crowd is buzzing with energy.

Max leans in close, his voice low. “You know you’re going to get a lot of hate for this, right?”

You shrug, glancing up at him. “Let them try. I’m not scared of a little backlash.”

He shakes his head, eyes shining with admiration. “I don’t know how I got so lucky.”

You smile, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. “I’m just getting started.”

[coryosbaby]

we (8 billion people) are begging for dom fem reader and coryo dynamic. Why she always gotta be sub like my dom ass would slap the shit out of him ong

ʙᴇɢɢɪɴ’ ᴏɴ ʜᴇʀ ᴋɴᴇᴇꜱ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴘᴏᴘᴜʟᴀʀ !

Synopsis: Coriolanus will do anything to get to the top, right?

Content warning . power dynamics, loss of virginity, face riding, multiple orgasms, marking, sub!pussydrunk! Coryo, dom! Reader that’s a lil fucked up

notes: me when coryo has hair real . This kinda sucks I’m sorry

When you see Coriolanus Snow, you see a desperate man.

A boy, actually. You see a boy. A desperate, handsome, power hungry boy. You can see it in the way he towers over his peers in a sort of fake dominance, the fauxness behind his sugary sweet words directed to anything or anyone in a higher position— some even directed towards you, when that blush isn’t flushing his cheeks with a feral intensity.

As the daughter of Dr. Gaul, it’s quite easy for you to advance some of your friends in their studies. You are not only her daughter, but in a position of power yourself. You know people— and Coriolanus knows that. You aren’t dumb. You can tell by his eyes, the empty, icy blue orbs not quite telling the truth.

Coriolanus, in a way, is just like you.

Maybe that’s what intrigues you so much about him. Besides that pretty smile, or those golden curls or those muscles that make you drool, you admire his determination. You know about his poorness (not all know, but some do, as Dean Casca Highbottom once quoted to him), and you know one will go far to satiate their own greed.

It’s just a matter of how far.

—

Coriolanus walks into your lab crying, one day.

Not obviously. It’s subtle, as you demand he sit down and take off his shirt so you can stitch up his wounds. Your hands graze it softly, and he winces.

“Does it hurt?” You ask him, even though you already know the answer.

He lets out a shaky breath, his hands clenching at the seat.

“Yes.”

An honest answer. He must trust you.

You hum, beginning to work on his wound with taught precision. Looking at him now, his jaw is clenching tightly and the boy is shaking so much you fear he might break.

“I killed someone.”

He states it in a remorseful tone, the tone of someone weak and pathetic.

“Someone in the games, if I’m correct?”

He turns to look at you in surprise, as if you didn’t have access to your mother’s decision of allowing him to walk in there and save his friend Sejanus. He says nothing, then. He sniffles, and cries silently.

“You know,” you state, beginning to stitch him. “I’ve killed someone too. Someone I needed to kill.” You smile, remembering the one time a student who was threatening to take your place mysteriously fell into the pit of snakes. “It was necessary.”

Coriolanus tries to stay nonchalant, but you can see the way his shoulders tense. He doesn’t say a word, so you continue.

“Was it necessary to kill the person you killed?”

He looks down at his hands. Caked with blood, knuckles drawn taught. You want to bite them.

“No,” Coriolanus answers slowly. “No, it wasn’t.”

Maybe there’s more darkness to the boy than you originally thought.

You speak to him in a much lower tone now.

“Maybe it was. You just don’t know it.” And then, “There are a lot of things certain people can do to get to the top, Coriolanus.”

Your insinuation doesn’t go unnoticed. He moves his head to look at you.

“And what would that be?”

Typical. Someone so power hungry that his head turns at the mere mention of an opportunity. You’ve got him right where you want him.

You finish up his stitches. You move around to his front, your short red skirt all of a sudden incredibly suffocating as he looks up at you with something utterly pathetic in his gaze.

“How far are you willing to go, Coriolanus?”

And that’s when, a few moments later, you get your wish: that skirt, oh so suffocating, is strewn on the floor, Coriolanus’ big hands massaging the skin of your thighs as you straddle him. Your lips press against his in a hot and heavy kiss, your tongue massaging his lips with fervor. He may be doing this for advancement, but the blonde wants you nonetheless. You can see in the way his hips grind up, the way he lets out desperate whines as you lick up his tears with your tongue. Pulling away from him, your cunt clenches when he tries to push your body down onto his crotch.

“No, Coryo,” you demand, though your voice is desperate. “I want you on the floor, okay? You’re going to taste me first.”

He hesitates, his eyes darting to your lacey panties and then to the colorful tiles.

“… the floor?”

He seems nervous, jittery. It’s not as if he’s afraid of getting dirty, or something.

No, this is something else. In the way he nervously twiddles his fingers, the way his bottom lip catches in between his teeth. It’s not as if he wants to stop— it’s more so that he’s inexperienced.

And then it hits you.

Coriolanus snow is a virgin. This big handsome boy, beautiful and delicious, has never done had sex before. He’s never felt the touch of a woman, never eaten pussy or got his dick sucked.

And for some reason, that makes you want him more.

“Oh,” you coo to him, soft. “Coryo, you’ve never done this before, have you?”

His face turns dusty pink, but he tries to deny, deny, deny.

“What? No! Of course I’m not. I’m just..” he looks at the floor, his lie clear on his face. “The tiles are cold. Dirty.”

“You’re caked with blood and sweat, sweet boy. I’m sure the tiles will be fine.”

He looks away from you, his lips drawn up into a pout.

“I’m not a virgin.” He states, merely to himself. You raise a brow, an amused smile playing on your lips as you move farther away from him.

“Then why don’t you come and eat my pussy, baby?”

His cock strains against his zipper, and you swear you can see it twitch from where you’re standing. He gulps, and with a submission you would’ve never expected, the boy drops to his knees on the tile and makes his way towards you. His shirt, unbuttoned, shows the pretty lines of his chest and his rippling back muscles, and when he gets to you, he stops at the front of your still standing knees. Satisfaction wades through you when his hands move up to the waistband of your underwear and yanks them down with shaking hands. Your smell hits his nose, makes his head tilt back as he lets out a throaty sound in the back of his throat. His tongue laves over the skin of your inner thigh, his hands going around the back of one of your knees to pull you close. You spread your legs to allow him access, your pussy lips drenched with arousal as his breath laves over you.

“Go on, Coryo,” you urge. “You want me to put a good word to my colleagues, yeah? So you better do a good job.”

He moans, his tongue finally slipping in between your folds as he tastes you. He’s messy, sloppy, and it’s good but it’s not good enough.

“God. I thought you were experienced? Huh, Coryo? Don’t you wanna make me feel good? Are you even fucking trying?”

He pulls away from you, shame in his eyes as you scold him. He pleads, his lip wobbling, his arms holding onto your legs.

“Please, I’m sorry. ‘M so sorry. Teach me, please…”

He tries to press a kiss to your cunt, but you kick him away with your foot. He falls to the ground, helpless.

“Lay down—I don’t care if it hurts your back. Don’t make me tell you twice.”

He does as he’s told, all sweet and sweaty and bloody. His back hits the tile, injured but he ignores it when he watches you tower over him. You move down, pressing your knees on either side of his head. He grabs your thighs to place his mouth back on you, but you grab his golden curls in your hands and yank him back. He groans in pain, his feet kicking in a sort of pleasured resistance.

“You use your mouth when I tell you to, coryo,” you scold, watching the way his eyes flutter and only focus on your dripping pussy. “You do what I say. If I guide your head, or press myself down at a certain spot, you go along with it. Do you understand me?”

He nods, desperate to get his mouth on you, his cock thrusting into the open air.

“Good. Now, go slower. Stick out your tongue.. wider… therrre you go, baby.” His eyes focus on that one spot, his tongue hovering right over your clit. He must have read up on this a time or two. You press him closer, shoving his face into your heat as his tongue hits the swollen bud. “You see that? That’s my clit. Yeahh, stick your tongue right there…”

He groans, the taste of your sweet slick making his eyes roll back. His palms splay across your ass, digging crescent moons into the skin. You move your hips in a circular motion, giving Coryo the impression to move his tongue that way. He’s a smart boy, so he knows exactly what you’re communicating to him. His tongue moves in slow, languid circles, your slick already dripping down his chin. You can’t help but give into the pleasure he’s giving you for a moment, riding his face like your life depends on it before slowing down and stopping.

“Good, coryo. You’re being such a good boy. But you need to move your tongue down. You don’t want to play with my clit too much, because I’ll cum quick if you do.”

He makes a noise of understanding, moving his tongue down to your hole. It’s much funner this way, he thinks. The tip of his tongue can gather up the awaiting slick that’s spilling out of you, it makes your taste all the more prominent. You give him some room to experiment now, letting him move his tongue in between your clit and your hole. He catches on, and if you didn’t know any better you’d think he was experienced now— he’s a natural learner. Your hips grind down into him, and when he tongues your hole you use his strong nose to grind lazily against. Coryo can only breathe in your slick, his brain becoming fuzzy from his lack of air. But it’s okay. It’s okay because he’s doing good.

You can feel yourself getting close, the languid strokes of his tongue making your legs shake. You hump against his mouth, your head thrown back.

“Gonna cum,” you say to him. “Gonna cum on this slut mouth.”

He groans, his jaw working even harder now. He focuses on your clit more, save for the few times that he slurps up the slick from your hole. Your orgasm is fast approaching, your body drawing up tight.

And finally, you’re cumming on his mouth, moans spilling from your lips and Coryo’s. He’s desperate to catch all of your cum onto his awaiting tongue, his legs still moving around as he consumes you like a man starved. Your eyes roll back and you grind your hips against him as you come down from your high. Coryo pulls away once he’s satiated, looking up at you with his chin coated in slick.

You sigh, pulling your hips back to give him some air. You move your body off of him, going to your knees to watch his pussy drunk face still follow your cunt as you move. You want to return the favor, now. It’s only fair.

But looking down, you notice a wet spot soaking through Coryo’s pants.

He lifts himself up on his elbows, looking from his crotch to you. He flushes, apologies spewing from his wet lips, shaking his head.

“I tried not to. I really, really did. ‘M so sorry.”

He tries to reach out to touch you, but you just move away and down to his crotch. You unbutton his jeans, and he lets you. You look down at his red briefs, watching the white stain peeking through.

“Oh, baby. You just couldn’t help, it could you?”

You mock him, your hand palming his shaft. He lets out a whimper, his head falling back against the tile. He knows it’s too much, but he isn’t stopping you. You pull his briefs down, and boy is he big. Thick and long, all pretty and red with cum dripping down to his balls. Your mouth waters, but you figure that can wait another day. His seed can be used for other things.

You flutter your lashes at him, your hand wrapping around his shaft, jerking him to hardness again. He’s got this look, contorted and pained and pleasured at the same time. You straddle his meaty thighs, your cunt lips brushing over his cockhead, and he gasps.

“W-Wait—“ he starts, choked. “It’s.. ‘S too much—“

“Then why are you hard again?” You tilt your head at him, your movements paused because he didnt give you full permission. “Don’t you want my warm, tight pussy? Don’t you want to make it to the top?”

And that gets him going, his arousal for you and power and riches. He nods, eyes rolling back as you sink down on him. The cum from his last orgasm coats your walls and makes it easier to fill yourself up, warm white streaks dripping down his cock again.

“Oh.. oh my god,” his mouth drops open, and you’ve never heard a boy so vocal. “Please… I want it, I want it!”

You know what he’s asking for. Your stilled hips are non moving, letting him stretch you and sit heavy inside your cunt. You smile, moving your hips just a bit, letting him feel your gummy walls sucking him in. His mouth is in the shape of an o, his hair messy and disoriented. He tries to grab your tits, your hips, and with a surprising force your palm strikes his cheek haughtily. He cries out, his thighs shaking, his hips thrusting up.

“No touching,” you demand. “You don’t get to do that. Give me your hands.”

He lets you take them, and you push them far over his head as you begin to work your hips harder, faster. His balls make plop plop plop-ing noises as they hit your ass, quivering and begging for you to let them empty inside you. You move down to his neck, leaving purpleish bruises over his skin, marking him as yours. You let go of his hands so you can rest your hands on his torso, and his hands move up. Not necessarily to touch, but to hover over your tits bouncing through your tight fitted shirt. You give him permission, just a moment, to squeeze the soft skin in his hands, give them a teasing, bold little slap. You breathe shakily, his cock filling you up in ways no other has. You watch as Coryo’s head tilts back, and you know he’s close.

“Gonna cum?” You taunt, your nails scraping against his chest. He groans, nodding. “Gonna fill up my tight little pussy? Cmon, give it to me, I know you want to.”

And when he spills into you, rope after rope of warm, hot cum filling you to the brim, you let out a cry. His fingers find your clit— he’s thought this through, hasn’t he? He rubs you until you’re seeing stars and clenching around his overstimulated cock with a loud sob. He moves up to kiss you hot on the mouth.

“Did I do good?” He asks.

You smile, your hand threading your hands through his hair as you both relax against each other.

“You did very good, Coryo. I’m so proud of you.”

He breathes out a chuckle, shoving his face into your neck. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and he winces. His wound has been withstanding a lot of pressure.

“You probably want to put some ice on that.” You suggest to him. He shrugs.

“The tile was cold enough.”

[nebulaafterdark]

The Rats Pt. 4

Aegon Targaryen ii x Velaryon(Strong)!Reader

Summary: Aegon attempts to make peace with Rhaenyra after being forced to usurp her throne. Lucerys’ death complicates things.

18+ ONLY, MDNI. Targcest, smut, child birth, angst, violence. S2 SPOILERS

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

“What is the meaning of this?” Rhaenyra cannot imagine what might cause such commotion in the middle of the night.

“The dragon keepers have just calmed Sunfyre, who’s been having a fit for the better part of three hours.” Daemon informs her.

“Why is this news?” Rhaenyra wonders, “you needed only to wake Prince Aegon so that he might calm his own dragon.”

“That was my intention, your grace.” Daemon assures her, “until it was brought to my attention that Stormborn had been taken from the pit.”

“Where is she now?”

“Her grace’s dragon has since been returned to the pit.”

“Where is my daughter now?” Rhaenyra asks.

The room falls silent, everyone glancing toward one another.

“We believe the princess to be abed.”

“Not one of you thought to make certain?” The Queen all but shouts, panic coursing through her.

“We thought it best not to disturb the princess while she is abed, your grace.” Not without permission from the queen herself…certainly not after the last time.

Prince Aegon was in quite a state, threatening to castrate any member of the royal guard who happened upon his beloved wife in the throes of passion.

“Never you mind, I will see to her myself.” The Queen stalks down to her daughter’s room, pounding at the door.

It is Aegon who answers, “Rhaenyra?”

“I need to see her.”

Aegon hesitates, looking to his wife, who nods her approval. “She’s just there.” He takes a step back, allowing his half sister entry.

Y/N sits upon her bed in a pristine blush sleeping gown, hair still damp from the bath. “Mother.”

“Tell me the truth of it.” Rhaenyra approaches, hovering over her bedside. “Where were you this night?”

“With Aegon.”

Rhaenyra steals herself, “where were you whilst Sunfyre was howling in the pit? I know you took Stormborn, I have it on good authority. Tell me now, Y/N, where did you go?”

“To Harrenhal.”

Rhaenyra blanches, clutching her chest. “Why?” She sobs, “why would you do such a thing, knowing the risk?”

“Mother, I-”

“I have lost two of my children, I will not survive the loss of a third.”

“I have not done this to harm you, mother. But I am tired of being in pain. You’ve no idea how it feels to be tugged at by opposing sides, until you are torn down the middle.”

“Sweet girl,” Rhaenyra sighs.

“I understand why you needed Aegon and I to marry. I do not fault you for it, but times are different now. I love him, mother. Not for the crown, or the realm, or even peace. He is one half of me.”

“I wish you’d come to me, instead of facing all these troubles alone. I will always be your mother, no matter if you are a woman grown, you will not outgrow my love for you so long as I live.”

Y/N nods. “I love you dearly, mother. I want only to make you proud.”

“I am proud.” Rhaenyra assures her, “you needn’t prove yourself to me.”

“Then might I ask you to set a place for my husband at your table? Say it is not too late.”

“And what of Aemond?” Rhaenyra asks, mulling it over.

“He is gone.”

“Are you hurt?”

“Yes.” Y/N whispers.

“Show me.”

Y/N lifts her nightgown to reveal the charred skin of her wound.

“Alright,” Rhaenyra lowers the material once she’s gotten a good look. She kisses the top of her daughter’s head, “we will have the maester come with salve to dress it.”

Y/N nods.

“Have you taken anything for the pain?”

“Milk of the poppy.”

Rhaenyra’s hand is trembling as it passes over her daughter’s hair a second time. “Aegon, might you bring the maester?”

“Of course,” he nods. Stealing himself before wandering down the hall and away from his beloved wife. Returning with the maester, who begins tending the wound immediately.

“Is there anything else I might get you?” Rhaenyra asks, keeping hold of her daughter’s hand.

Y/N is mostly joking when she murmurs to her mother, “cake?”

Rhaenyra smiles, “I will see to it.”

Y/N relaxes as best she can to the poking and prodding.

“Aegon,” Rhaenyra nods toward the hall, “a word?”

“Of course,” Aegon follows her out.

“I owe you a debt, for taking care of my daughter. Y/N is the world to me, as she is to you.” Rhaenyra says. “Know that as I walk this path to reclaim the throne, we do so hand in hand. We are one house, as our father so willed it.”

Aegon nods, “thank you.”

————————————————————————

Years ago, after the council meeting where Princess Rhaenyra and Queen Alicent agreed to the terms of their children’s betrothal; King Viserys himself called for Prince Aegon and Princess Y/N in his quarters.

It is put plainly before them, what is expected. What this union is meant to do; ease the strain between their two families.

“Stand together.” The king insists.

Y/N and Aegon inch toward each other.

“This will be expected of you from now on. You are betrothed, you will act as such.”

“Yes, father.”

“Yes, grandsire.”

At dinners they sit together, during shared lessons, anytime they are in the same room.

Stand together.

The princess continues her training alongside Helaena while her brothers and her betrothed argue regularly. The boys only find common ground when teasing Aemond for not having a dragon.

Queen Alicent appreciates these childish games least of all and raises her concerns with the King.

It is Y/N, having the least to do with any of it, who is summoned by her grandsire and his wife.

“Come sit, darling girl.” Viserys smiles, guiding Y/N over to his model of Old Valyria.

She nods, “thank you, your grace.”

“How are you enjoying your studies?”

“Very well,” Y/N tells him.

“I am glad to hear it. Even the septa has nothing but good things to say. You will make a fine queen, my girl.”

Y/N breathes a sigh of relief. “It pleases me to hear you say this, Grandsire. I wish only to make you proud.”

Viserys takes her hand, “surely you understand that you are a reflection of your mother and myself, in your actions and your words.”

“Yes, of course.” Y/N squeezes his fingers.

“The time has come for you to consider those whose actions reflect on you.”

“I do not understand.”

“He is referring to your brothers, who wreak havoc on the whole of us.” Alicent chimes in.

“Oh, Alicent.” Viserys waves her away, “they are boys yet. I meant our Aegon.”

“Aegon?” Alicent scoffs, “those are the actions that trouble you?”

“He will soon be a man grown and future king consort. If he is to marry my granddaughter, he must act with dignity and grace.”

“Do you not see the true issue, your grace?” Alicent demands.

“You asked me to speak with Rhaenyra’s children,” Viserys reminds her, “is this not Rhaenyra’s child?”

Alicent locks eyes with Y/N, she is so young, so eager to please her family. “This child is not the issue.”

“You are correct, dear wife.” The king grins, “she is the solution. Y/N, you will go to Aegon, say what you must to light a fire beneath him. So that he too might behave in a manor befitting his station. Do you understand?”

“Yes, your grace.”

“Good,” Viserys releases her, “go now.”

Y/N stands, making her way to the door.

“See how easy that was?” Viserys turns to his wife, now standing with her back to him.

Y/N has some trouble locating the Prince, eventually she happens upon him on the stairs. “Prince Aegon,” she calls his attention.

The boy rolls his eyes at her. “Yes, my betrothed.”

“Might you walk with me to the gardens?”

“Do I have any choice?”

Y/N smirks, with a shake of her head. “No.”

“By all means, lead the way.” Aegon waves a hand, following her like an animal on a chain.

“The king and I had a rather illuminating conversation earlier.”

“And what did you discuss? How elated he is to seat you, a bastard, on the iron throne over me, his first born son?” Aegon cocks his head to the side.

“No, though I am sure he will be ‘elated’ to hear that his first born son called me a bastard, in the middle of the garden, for everyone to hear.”

Aegon clears his throat, “I would not say it in front of anyone.”

"This place is crawling with vermin, their eyes and ears are upon us at all times."

"You mean to tell me we have rats?"

"Not everything can be taken so literally, my prince."

Aegon stares through her, every word going over his pretty blonde head.

"Look, there's your father now." Y/N points, "watching us from his balcony."

Aegon whips around, spotting the king.

"Smile and wave, let him believe we are having a grand time."

Aegon does as he's told, earning a nod from Viserys. "Are we not?"

True to his word, Aegon does not call her a bastard again, to her face or behind her back. When Aemond’s eye is lost, the truth of it comes out.

Y/N and Aegon begin moving closer, behind Aemond’s chair. Stand together. Perpetually closing the space between their two houses.

When Alicent scolds Aegon for not protecting his brother, Y/N is near enough to receive a second hand lashing by her tongue. And when his mother’s palm meets his cheek, in a stinging slap, his hair brushes Y/N’s skin.

“What was that for?”

“That was nothing compared to the abuse your brother suffered while you were drowning in your cups, you fool.”

“The legitimacy of my children’s births were called loudly to question.” Rhaenyra informs the king. “Vile insults were levied against them.”

“What insults?” Viserys sneers.

“He called us bastards.” Jacaerys says.

“Where did you hear such things, boy?” The king demands of the injured prince.

Aemond is quiet then, not willing to tell the truth. He first heard it from his mother, long before his brother. But Aegon has said it, many a time, before he abruptly stopped. “It was Aegon.”

Viserys rounds the chair, to confront his eldest son, with his eyes cast downward.

By the gods, let this humiliation end swiftly.

“Aegon!”

Stand together.

Y/N must not abandon her post.

“Yes, father.”

“Is this true?”

“It is.” Aegon admits, “and I am sorry for it. I am the elder, I should not have poisoned Aemond’s mind with such hatred. Especially as…these allegations are untrue. It was my mistake, forgive me.”

King Viserys takes a step back, “the next tongue to question the parentage of Princess Rhaenyra’s children will be removed.”

Y/N lets out a shuttering breath, catching her grandsire’s attention.

He offers her a reassuring smile, after threatening to cut out his children’s tongues. It feels wrong to be treated so differently, standing inches apart.

When the preceding is at an end, and Rhaenyra’s blood has been split, Y/N goes to find Aegon. He is tucked in against the grand archway, drowning in cups. "I brought you more wine."

Aegon eyes her warily, accepting the glass, “and what do you want?"

"May I sit with you?"

"If you wish."

Y/N takes a seat on the cool, stone floor beside him. "Thank you, for saying what you did.”

"My mother did not appreciate it."

Y/N hesitates, "I know it is not my place, but I do not like when she strikes you. Perhaps I could discuss it with your father?”

"My father? Who loves me least of all his children?" Aegon shakes his head. "A lot of good that would do.”

"They should not treat you that way."

“You care for me," he realizes. The thought alone makes his stomach turn.

"Should I not?”

"I would not know how to care for you in return."

"You defended me, in front of both our families.” Y/N challenges. “If that is not caring for me, I don't know what is."

Aegon feels the weight of her head resting against his shoulder, and he does not pull away.

"I am sorry for what happened to Aemond. I hope he finds peace and swift healing."

"If it were either of your brothers who’d been maimed, my father would pluck out Aemond’s eye himself and present it to Rhaenyra on a platter. There is no peace in that.”

Aegon becomes fiercely protective of his brother after that.

Y/N does not fault him for it.

The debacle of Driftmark sets their nuptials back several years. The blacks and greens remain in negotiation until Aegon is twenty and one and Y/N is ten and eight. At which point, Viserys proclaims they must either marry before the moon turns, or end the engagement to free both their hands for marriage.

Reluctantly, they are bound before the eyes of thousands.

Stand together.

They recite traditional Valyrian vows, sealing their covenant in blood. Sharing a dance or two before being whisked away to consummate said marriage, as other members of the wedding party drink merrily in the grand hall.

————————————————————————-

“Are they gone?” Y/N asks, toying anxiously with her wedding ring.

“They have strict orders,” Aegon sighs, “the appointed members of council cannot leave until they’ve heard a proper consummation.” He climbs into bed with her, both fully dressed in their marriage attire.

“We best get to it then.” Y/N begins plucking pins from her hair. The tapestry of braids falling free.

“Unless you’d rather have a bit of fun.”

“How do you mean?”

Aegon grins, “we could pretend.”

“Really?”

“This marriage is ours, no one else’s. When I bed you that will be ours and no one else’s.”

Stand together.

“How would we-”

Aegon rises up on his knees, gripping the headboard. “I will do the heavy lifting. Just lie back and think of the crown.”

Y/N covers her face with both hands as he begins thrusting at the air. The springs beneath them groan and crackle.

Aegon peeks down at her to find a smile painted across her lips, despite her shielded eyes. “Let them hear you, sweetheart. Make it believable.”

Y/N nods, releasing a sound she imagines a person might make while exchanging intimacies.

“Not like that.” Aegon chuckles, “they’ll think I’m murdering you.”

“I do not know how.”

“Have you never touched yourself?” He breathes.

“Never.”

Gods, he’s going to enjoy her. “That’s alright,” he continues his movements to jostle the mattress. “Just do as I do.” Aegon lets his mouth fall open, releasing a low moan.

The sound that escapes Y/N in return is not entirely forced. It makes her belly burn with desire.

They continue on like this for a while before Aegon murmurs, “big finish.”

“So quickly?” Y/N’s brow furrows.

Aegon’s eyes flicker about her, “I can’t imagine it will take long.”

As the grand finale comes to a close, Aegon makes for his dagger. Slicing his finger at the tip and allowing blood to pool before dragging the crimson stain across the bed sheet. He strips it from the bed, walking it to the door. “Deliver this to her majesty the Queen. I know she is impatiently waiting.”

Y/N begins pacing, beside the bed.

“They are gone. We are alone.”

She nods, “thank you, Aegon. For all of it.”

————————————————————————-

When Aegon does eventually bed her, it is well worth the wait.

“By the gods, that is not going to fit inside me.”

Aegon huffs a laugh, “I promise it will, darling girl. We must prepare you first.”

“How,” Y/N squeals.

He hushes her, lying open mouthed kisses across her collarbones.

“Will it hurt?”

“Not if I can help it.” He plans to burying his face between her thighs and bring her to the heavens. But the sweet little thing wants only to be held, kissed. Aegon lies beside her, one hand stroking her dark hair, the other moving down to her breasts, kneading them gently.

“You are beautiful,” he breathes.

“As are you.” She pants, moving her lips against his.

Aegon chuckles, “flattery will get you places.” He rolls her nipple between his fingers, flicking over it with the pad of his thumb.

Her hips rise of their own accord, grinding herself against his entwined leg.

“Slowly, my darling.”

Y/N nods, kissing him again to distract herself from the building ache between her legs.

Feather light caresses trail down to her sex, collecting a bit of wetness and slipping a finger into her heat. Pumping slowly, getting her used to the sensation.

“That feels nice.” She breathes, tugging at his hair.

Aegon smiles, “can you take another?”

“Yes.”

Aegon adds a second digit, working her open, pushing a bit deeper to her sweet spot. His fingers curl against it, relishing her little gasps. The princess is close now.

“Ahh,” she grasps his forearm.

“I know, sweetheart, I know.”

“I-”

“Don’t cry.” By the seven, she is gripping his fingers like a vise.

“I cannot help it.” Her thighs tremble in earnest now.

“That is your peak, darling girl. You’re alright, I promise.” He continues stroking, pressing the base of his hand flush with her swollen pearl, applying gentle pressure until she finds bliss. He pets at her hair as she cries out. “Good girl,” he coos, working her through the crest and bringing her back down.

“That was heavenly,” she sighs, steadying her breathing.

You are heavenly.

“Might we do it again?”

Aegon chuckles, “as many times as you’d like.”

————————————————————————

In the early days of their marriage, Aegon realizes that his wife has a nasty habit of bedding him and waiting until he finds sleep to sneak off. Holding after hours council with her mother.

The practice itself does not upset him, but this night, her absence is especially troubling, as they have been drinking since dinner. His sweet wife is not well versed in wine drinking. She laughed so hard she cried and then rode him to kingdom come.

Aegon tosses back the covers, pulling on his clothes and moving quickly through the halls of the keep. He rounds the nearest corridor, colliding with his wife, running at full speed. “Sweetheart?”

“I was looking for you,” Y/N smiles.

“Where have you been?”

“Well, I could not find sleep so I went to the maester to ask for a draft.”

“Then you’ve been to the maester?” Aegon holds her at arms length, searching for any sign of harm.

“I was on my way to the maester when I happened across one of the groundskeeper’s wives and we got to talking.” Y/N admits, with a hiccuping laugh.

“What could you possibly be talking about for over an hour?”

“Just about everything, she is a lovely woman.” Y/N tells him.

Aegon nods, with a patient smile.

“I might have stayed longer, but it came up in conversation…all the ways a woman might please her husband. And I could not wait to tell you.”

“Seven hells,” Aegon groans.

“The smallfolk share things in the marriage bed I’ve never even heard of.” Y/N muses. “She told me that, on occasion, she puts his cock between her breasts and he-”

“Who is this woman, my darling? Did you get a name?”

“I do not remember her name. I’ve been drinking.”

“I’m well aware,” Aegon’s face softens. “Next time you cannot find sleep, wake me instead.”

Y/N nods.

“In return, I will teach you all the things a husband and wife might do together. I will even demonstrate, should you find it necessary.”

“Oh, could you?” Y/N grabs for his hands, in excitement.

Aegon sighs, “you will be the death of me.”

She leaves him little notes each time after, when she must go to attend her family.

‘My dearest Aegon, I will return soon. I could not stand to wake you from such a peaceful slumber. Worry not, I will always return to you.’

And she does, after council meetings and late nights with her mother. She always returns.

————————————————————————

After a particularly long week, Aegon avoids Y/N purposely. Attempting to clear the room when he finds her there.

“Have I done something?” Y/N stops him.

Aegon shakes his head, “it has been a long day. I do not wish to burden you.”

“When you are upset you may come to me.”

Aegon fights the urge to pull away, to ignore her until she leaves.

“I will hold you.” It isn’t much, but it is all she knows. The way her mother comforts her.

Aegon says nothing, sitting down to bury his head in his hands.

Y/N sighs, winding her arms around his shoulders, feeling them begin to shake.

He reaches for her slowly, as if such comfort might burn him, or she would simply bat his hand away. She doesn’t of course, she allows him to bring her closer, now seated in his lap.

The princess says not a word as her husband works himself free of his breeches. Taking her small clothes and skirt aside.

“It helps,” he tells her. “You help.”

He goes to her then, when the day is long. When there is news to share, on occasion, just to say hello. He goes to her because he can.

————————————————————————-

During dinners at the Red Keep they whisper secrets and share hushed laughter. When he grows tired of that, Aegon’s fingers toy with her pretty little cunt beneath the table, to watch her squirm.

“I love you.” He confesses, meeting her gaze as she turns to him at the height of her pleasure.

Y/N bites down on the inside of her cheek, holding perfectly still as Aegon works her through her peak. Withdrawing his fingers and wiping them clean on the fabric of her skirts. “I love you.”

No one is the wiser. Save for Otto, who knows all; or rather likes to believe he does.

Gone is any hope that the blacks or greens might use their influence to sway the tides from one side to another. Y/N and Aegon belong to each other now, a danger in its own right.

News of the princess’s pregnancy sparks a joyous celebration throughout the realm, only to be outshone by news of the birth. Two perfect little girls. Twins, named Dahlia and Visera, respectively.

“They are perfect, my dearest love.” Aegon marvels when they are placed in his arms.

Y/N nods.

“Are you well?” He asks, swaying from side to side.

Whether from weariness or the question itself, Y/N bursts in to tears.

Aegon carefully gives his daughters over to the maids. Climbing onto the freshly dressed bed with Y/N to hold her, stroking dark locks. “Shh, it’s alright.”

“It was awful,” Y/N sobs, clutching at him.

“Tell me what happened.”

“Everyone was barking commands at me, trying to rush the babe out, even worse with the second and my mother was the one person speaking against it.”

“Oh, my darling girl.” He sighs.

“I was tired and frightened…and the pain is unimaginable. I do not wish to do it again.”

Aegon sways her gently, “I am so terribly sorry.”

“You are the only person I wanted and I could not h-have you.”

“We will deliver the next just the two of us, if it pleases you.” Aegon promises.

“Your mother will never allow that.”

“She will not know.” Aegon kisses her cheek.

Y/N pulls back just enough to see him. “If you’re certain.”

“I am. Calm yourself now, my only love. This is a day of happiness.” Aegon dries her tears, “I should like to soak up every moment here, with the three of you.”

Y/N nods, “I would like that very much.”

At the prince’s request, Visera and Dahlia are returned to them.

Aegon takes his second born, tracing the soft lines of her little face, committing them to memory. “Papa loves you.”

Y/N grins at the sight, her own finger clutched in her eldest daughter’s fist.

It comes as a shock to only Alicent when Dahlia Targaryen is named their heir; with her claim upheld by Viserys himself. Aegon does not need a son, his daughters are his legacy.

They attend small council meetings as they grow, with Dahlia seated on her grandsire’s lap.

“Mama,” Visera pounds at the table, drawing attention from the other seats.

“What is it, my darling girl?” Y/N hushes her, hoping to hear their current positions on livestock.

The little girl reaches for the ball again. “Please?”

“What is it she wants?” Aegon asks, from beside his wife, pecking kisses to his daughter’s outstretched hand.

“The ball.” Y/N whispers.

“Ahh,” Aegon smiles, taking his ball in hand and turning it over to Visera. “There we are.”

“You’ll spoil her rotten.”

“Just like her mother, hmm?” Aegon jests, “that is the goal.”

Y/N bites back a grin, passing a hand over her daughter’s light hair.

Their daughters celebrate their third name day before the princess is expecting again.

“There seems to be only one of you in there, I fear.” Aegon whispers to the child in Y/N’s belly, pressing kisses to her skin.

“You fear?” His wife smiles.

“You see, three is an odd number, this child will need a companion.” The prince reasons.

Y/N doesn’t argue, listening to Aegon speak with their unborn babe until she falls asleep.

————————————————————————

Y/N’s term is nearly complete when Aegon finds his wife, holding their wailing daughters in her arms. One on each side of her belly.

“What’s happened?” Aegon asks.

Y/N looks to him, “the girls were playing and Visera closed the door on Dahlia’s finger by mistake. Now they are both inconsolable.”

Aegon reaches for his eldest daughter, “let Papa see, which finger is hurt.”

“My little finger,” Dahlia cries, presenting the red, angry digit.

“That does look terrible painful, my dearest love.” Aegon says, after carefully examination.

“I must have the maester.”

“Now, now, sweetheart.” Aegon presses feather light kisses to her hand. “We need a cold compress is all.”

The maids rush out to fulfill his request.

Dahlia rests her head against her father’s shoulder as she waits, sniffling while he rubs circles into her back.

“See there, darling girl? Your sister is alright.” Y/N gentles Visera, who is feeling incredibly guilty.

“I did not mean to.”

“Of course not, my love.” Aegon says, “twas only an accident.”

The rest of their day is spent playing dolls and Aegon giving pony rides. Which, while ridiculous, does serve as a form of entertainment for Y/N who sits aside to watch.

She may give birth any day now and she feels every bit uncomfortable, still she welcomes Dahlia into her lap as she waits for her turn on Aegon, the noble steed.

“Trot,” Visera orders, with a smile across her face.

“Trot?” Aegon laughs, “shall I do tricks for you as well, your grace?”

Y/N shakes her head, locking eyes with her husband; she mouths a single word, “spoiled.” She kneads the ache in her lower back with her free hand. Ignoring it through supper and long after Dahlia and Visera are asleep.

Aegon notices the way she keeps clutching at it. “Perhaps a warm bath might help.”

“That would be nice,” she croaks out.

“Might it be your labors, darling girl?”

“It is all in my back,” she does not recall hardly any pain in her back, whilst laboring with the twins. “I must have pulled it.”

“The girls are getting bigger, perhaps it’s best if you do not lift them, in this condition.” Aegon kisses her cheek, dashing off to find a maid.

Y/N inhales, closing her eyes to the dull throbbing ache. Even the tub does not help, she climbs back into bed, hoping to sleep it off, but the pain only intensifies.

“This must be more than a muscle.” Aegon whispers, lying behind her. Continuing to knead her hips at her request.

“It is my labors.” My chokes out.

“You’re certain?”

Y/N nods, “my waters just broke.”

Aegon presses a kiss to her shoulder. “Is there anything I might do for you?”

She shakes her head. “Walking will help the babe come down, I must stand.”

Aegon springs from the bed, helping her upright.

“Fuck.” She hisses, beginning to pace their rooms.

Aegon follows, unsure what else to do.

She reaches out for him after a while, when the pain is so great all she wants is an ounce of comfort.

“I’m here.” Aegon murmurs, wrapping her in his arms as she sways gently from side to side.

Y/N clings to her husband, breathing him in. Focusing her attention on the sweetness of his words, to distract herself from her labors. “I’ll need to push soon.”

“Of course,” Aegon’s done his best to prepare himself. Studying whatever books he could manage, without drawing attention from prying eyes. Highborn ladies do not have children delivered by their husbands.

Queen Alicent will be livid when she finds out, but it is better to ask for forgiveness than permission.

Y/N climbs atop the bed, remaining modestly covered.

“There’s no reason to be nervous, my darling. I’ve seen your cunt a hundred times.” Aegon flips her nightgown up, positioning her legs apart, bent at the knee. “There we are.”

“This is different, surely.” Y/N bares down as her belly contracts.

“Yes and no,” he pats her thigh.

She keeps a firm grip on his hand, crying out despite her best efforts.

“Alright, that’s alright.” Aegon scrambles for something to muffle it. “Might this work?” His belt.

“Yes.” Y/N takes it from him, stuffing the leather strap into her mouth. She is not entirely silent, little whimpers escape, though not enough to alert the guards.

Aegon is patient, kind, whispering words of encouragement. He never rushes her, brushing his hands across her skin. “There you go, my dearest love.” He can see the child’s head now.

Her eyes water, gritting her teeth so tightly they ache.

“Breathe.”

Y/N draws in a breath through her nose, releasing it in a strangled manner, akin to a dying animal.

“Good girl,” Aegon is prepared to catch the infant.

The princess’s head falls back as the child emerges, connected to her by only the afterbirth.

“Slippery little fellow, aren’t you?” Aegon coos, holding his son in his arms.

The infant begins to wail.

“A boy?” Y/N pants, tossing the belt away to catch her breath.

“Yes, my darling girl.” Aegon grins, “how are you?”

There is still pain, there will always be pain, but it is largely outweighed by the image of Aegon holding their son. She bursts into tears, “I am well.”

“Oh dear,” he frowns, carefully maneuvering his newborn son. He lies the infant against her chest, leaning down to comfort her as best he can. “Was it not what you wanted?”

“It was better, my love.” Y/N assures him, counting their babe’s tiny fingers. “I am overjoyed.”

“Overjoyed,” Aegon huffs, clunking his forehead against hers. “Of course that is why you’re crying.”

The maesters come after a while, to be sure that Y/N and the babe are well. After receiving the all clear, they are finally able to rest. Waking early in the morn to present the newest member of their family.

Y/N is tired and sore, even now, lying abed doesn’t suit her. She sits upon a cushion, in a loose fitting gown, tracing the slope of her new babe’s nose. “Are you nearly ready, my love?”

“Nearly,” Aegon remarks. While fastening his breeches he discovers the shapes notched into his belt. He lets out a laugh.

“What is it?” Y/N smiles.

“Look,” he rounds the stool, jutting out his hips.

“Your cock?” The princess arches a brow. “I have seen it.”

“Here, darling girl.” He grins, tracing the outline of her indentations. “From your teeth.”

Her cheeks heat up, “you must take it off.”

“Take it off?” Aegon frowns, “this is a badge of honor. I will wear it day in and day out.”

“You are insufferable,” Y/N sighs.

Aegon pecks a kiss to her parted lips, silencing any protest and setting off to gather the rest of their children.

Y/N dearly misses her mother and brothers in Dragonstone.

————————————————————————

In the months after Laenor’s birth Y/N begins searching for a teacher willing to help her learn a skill most princesses never acquire. Leading her to seekout a man she never has before.

“I want to train by the sword.”

Aemond pauses his sparring practice. “Surely I misunderstand you, dear niece.”

“You are the best, I require a tutor.” Y/N puts it plainly.

“I must be, if you are asking me, of all people.”

“I will admit, you were not my first choice. But Aegon refuses to so much as raise a sword against me and my brothers never cared for knocking me down; where as you will have no qualms about it.”

Aemond smirks, “this is true.”

“I also thought it might be a way for you and I to come together…as family.”

Aemond squares his shoulders, “very well then. Take up your sword.”

The two of them have something in common at long last, until Princess Y/N falls pregnant again, some months later.

Viserys’ condition continues to deteriorate, it is unclear if he will survive to see Y/N and Aegon’s fourth child. As luck would have it, he is lucid when the Prince and Princess present their second son, Prince Aegon, fourth of his name.

“Well done, my girl.” The king manages.

Y/N smiles, “Aegon helped.”

“I should expect so,” Viserys laughs.

“I meant only that he too deserves a job well done.”

Viserys looks to her, as if seeing her for the first time. Then turning to his son he whispers, “well done, my boy.”

Aegon is taken aback, “thank you, father.”

————————————————————————

News of Lord Corlys Velaryon’s injury in the Step Stones brings forth Vaemond Velaryon’s petition to be named his brother’s successor over Lucerys.

This business, however unpleasant, brings Rhaenyra and her children back to King’s Landing.

“We were planning to visit in a few months time, after the babe was born.” Rhaenyra tells her daughter. “But it is always a joy to see you, darling girl.”

Y/N hugs her mother, tightly, “I’ve missed you.”

Rhaenyra strokes a hand over her daughter’s hair. “I have missed you terribly.”

King Viserys musters his last bit of strength to affirm his position for Lucerys and make known that his daughter, Rhaenyra, will always be the true heir to the throne.

They break bread, the blacks and greens together, once the petition is settled. Getting along for a time, until the king is taken back to his chambers to rest. A fight breaks out between Jace, Luce and Aemond, causing Rhaenyra’s untimely departure. She intends to return alone, on dragon back, after the children are settled at home.

Y/N finds sleep that night with a renewed sense of peace, waking to anything but.

Aegon is in an odd state of dress, as if he’s thrown clothes on in the dark. Pacing at the foot of their bed; muttering to himself.

“Aegon?” The princess rubs at her eyes, hoping to make sense of it.

“My father is dead.”

Y/N sucks in a breath.

“My mother and grandsire are gathering the smallfolk for my coronation, in the dragon pit.”

“Why? Alicent herself said that my mother would make a fine Queen only hours ago.”

“In the end it was my name Viserys spoke,” Aegon whispers. “To my mother, on his deathbed.”

Oh no, gods no. Viserys wouldn’t. “What exactly did he say?”

“It matters not, my dearest love. I intend to uphold your mother’s claim.”

“How?” By taking her throne?

“I know you do not trust my family, as well you shouldn’t. You know my heart, you know what I want. They are rushing into this because they know it is wrong. I have pleaded with them, to no avail.” Aegon says. “If it is a performance they demand, so that we might seize the crown to later unfuck this line of succession, it is a performance they will have.”

Y/N nods, pressing a hand to her chest, in a desperate attempt to settle her breathing.

“We’re going to wash you up and dress you in the finest gown the realm has ever seen. Then you are going to stand at my side as they bend the knee, to try it on for size. Think of it as preparation for the day you are crowned our true queen, after your mother has ruled for a great many years.”

Again she nods.

“Are you calm enough now or do you still need me?” Aegon asks, stroking his thumb over her cheek.

“I need you.”

Stand together.

————————————————————————

In nearly two days time the realm is divided, half of them devoted to Rhaenyra’s claim, the other half to Aegon’s. After Aegon is crowned, Otto Hightower continues to play his hand.

“What are we to do?” Y/N wonders.

“My mother sent Aemond to Storm’s End. Lord Baratheon was easily swayed by the promise of Daeron’s hand for one of his daughters.”

“That is good, is it not? An ally of ours is an ally of my mother’s, in time.”

“There is more,” Aegon admits, wringing his hands.

Y/N laces their fingers together instead, “speak it.”

“I wish so badly that I did not have to tell you.”

“Please, Aegon.” She insists.

“There was an incident.”

Y/N nods, urging him to continue.

“Between Aemond…and your brother Lucerys.”

“What?” Her eyes brim with tears, as though her heart already knows.

“Lucerys was there, delivering a message from your mother. Aemond followed him, on dragon back. I do not think Aemond meant to truly harm him.” Aegon watches the lone drop of moisture cascade over her cheek. “Lucerys is dead.”

The princess’s knees buckle and she falls, with pain in her chest is so great, her lungs cannot expand.

Aegon gentles her to the floor, into his lap as she sobs so violently it shakes the pair of them. There is nothing he can say, and so he holds her, until she has no tears left.

The next weeks drag on quite the same, they pretend for their children, but Y/N struggles.

She sits the small council meeting, listening to news of Rhaenyra’s blockade and its effect on the kingdom.

The doors push open, revealing Aemond.

Y/N nearly churns. Balling her hands so tightly into fists the nails break skin.

“The key to victory is through the Riverlands.” Aemond narrates, “we need to establish a toehold there, at Harrenhal.”

Y/N pushes away from the table, trembling with the force of her rage.

Aegon reaches for her, feeling his heart sink as she backs away, with both arms wrapped around herself. Trapped beneath the watchful eyes of the council. “My darling, I did not invite him here.”

“Tis true,” Aemond confirms, “I am here of my own volition.”

There is that, at least.

“Do you have something to say, my queen?”

Y/N’s back remains to Aemond, and the strategy board, “Prince Aemond is a traitor and a murderer, who deserves to swing in the streets for what he has done. Instead he attends meetings of the small council. It is clear I hold little value to any member of this court. I will not sit here and listen to this depravity.”

“Y/N.” Aegon rises from his seat, shifting between feet, anxiously.

“I am through, my king.”

Aegon recoils as if she’s slapped him.

“Unless you are commanding me to stay,” she replies, with venom in her voice.

“Of course not, my dearest love.”

Y/N exits the double doors, moving down the hall at record speed.

Aegon twirls the council ball between his fingers to settle his racing heart. This was once his father’s seat, where his children would sit, back when all was as it should be. Now his children are not welcome and his wife would sooner abandon ship than remain at his side. “Get out.” He says to his brother.

Aemond sighs.

“Get out!” Aegon slams his fist against the table, “from now on, you will make yourself scarce amongst these halls. If you happen across my wife, you will make haste in the opposite direction, she will not be forced to look upon your face again. Do you understand?”

Aemond bows his head, “as you wish, your grace.”

Y/N retreats to her children’s rooms, finding them empty. They must be in with Helaena’s twins again. She finds the six of them in Jaehaera’s room, playing together while Helaena sews her tapestry.

“How is it coming along?” Y/N asks, taking a seat beside her.

“Quite well.”

“Glad to hear it.” Y/N taps at her wedding ring, “do you find it relaxing? Mayhaps I should take up sewing.”

“I’m afraid.” Helaena says, setting her work aside.

“Of what?” Y/N cocks her head to the side.

“The rats.”

Y/N nods, hoping to understand. “What is it about them that frightens you?”

Helaena falls silent, a far off look in her eyes.

“I could look into them.” Y/N offers, instead. “The rats.”

Helaena blinks at her. “Would you?”

“Yes, of course. Perhaps with proper knowledge of their ways you need not fear them.”

Helaena smiles, “that would be nice.”

“I will head down to the library then, once the children are abed.”

After their baths, princess Y/N brushes through each of her children’s hair in turn. Her two year old son sits in her lap first. Laenor’s hair has wave to it, like Aegon’s. She twists a bit of it around her finger.

“Mama,” the little boy begins bouncing, impatiently.

“Yes, sweet boy?”

“All done,” he tells her.

Y/N huffs a laugh, squeezing him in a hug before releasing him, “off you go then.”

Laenor giggles, bounding away happily.

“Alright, my darling girls, who is next?”

Dahlia looks to Visera, who stares back at her, exclaiming in unison, “I am!” The pair comes charging at her, landing in the small space, side by side.

“My goodness, you have gotten so big.” Y/N groans as she repositions them. Taking turns swiping the bristles through their long, silver, hair before weaving in simple braids, one down each of their backs.

“Where is father?” Dahlia wonders.

Y/N swallows, “performing his duties.”

“What about us?” Visera asks.

“Your father loves you dearly,” Y/N kisses each of their heads. “He wants nothing more than to be with you. Sometimes there are things we must do, for the sake of the crown that require us to be parted from those we love, for a short while.”

The girls nod.

“One day, when you are grown, you will understand. In the meantime, please know that his heart is with you, always. He will never be far.”

Visera and Dahlia turn, holding their mother tight.

“I will see you on the morrow.” Y/N pats their backs, watching them take to their beds.

Her youngest child is brought to her last, wrapped in a silk blanket and wailing at the top of his lungs.

Y/N stands to collect him. “Now, now, my prince, what business do you have causing all that fuss?” Y/N coos at the babe in her arms.

Aegon the fourth quiets instantly, staring up at his mother while kicking his little legs.

“That’s what I thought.” Y/N remarks, sitting down in the arm chair to rock him to sleep. “You are so loved, my darling.” She strokes his dark hair and his tired eyes begin to close, “sweet dreams.”

With the prince safely abed, Y/N leaves the children in the care of their guards and maids, to see what books they might have about rats in the library. The selection is limited, of course, so she decides on a bound copy recounting the great plague. Its pages contain great detail about the little critters and their lives.

She finds herself more engrossed in it than she could have anticipated. The princess hardly hears her husband enter their rooms.

“What story is that now, my dearest love?” He asks, shucking off his boots.

“It’s a book about the plague.”

Part 5

Taglist: @minttea07 @callsignwidow @fallout-girl219 @syraxnyra @vickynephilim @jeondeluxe111 @geeksareunique @arya-brooke @7minutes-tomidnight @ninastyless @aleemendoza2425-blog @livingdead-reilly @whenmypartysover @darlingisntit @nayaniasworld @uniquecroissant @spacexdrago @kaysav608 @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @wolflover384 @jaydemon99 @minttea07 @lightdragonrayne @baybaybear1

[divinesolas]

Plagued by you

r.q: requesting this please, alicent's daughter x jacaerys… and an angry confession.. "I burn for you." type ❤️😭 like he wants to her to come with him and be team black.

c.w: Otto doesn't go to Dragonstone you do; alicents daughter!reader, minor angst, dialogue heavy, reader “hates” jacaerys, hints of rhaelicent, not proofread

w.c: 1.6k (finally a shorter jace fic…)

a.n: anthony bridgerton ass confession lmaoo, hope you all enjoy :3

part two part three

You were currently pacing back and forth in the room rhaenyra allowed you to stay in on Dragonstone. You had come to see her, to ask her to declare for Aegon. She had obviously argued back and forth with you, up until nightfall where she said she would retreat for the night and the two of you could finish this tomorrow in the morning before you flew back in the morning. You argued that you would leave right then but only to find out that it had begun to storm so heavily. Realizing you would not be able to travel anywhere in this weather you reluctantly agreed and here you were.

In truth you did not want to come here. You had begged your mother to send someone else to anyone else but she was instant it be you. 

“Mother, why not send grandsire? He will be a much better negotiator than me.” she fiddles with your cloak, a far away look on her face before she moves to cup your face.

“Rhaenyra certainly likes you more than she likes him. She will treat you kindly.”

“She will say no mother you know this.” 

She lets out a trembled sigh and grips your face tightly in her hands and presses her forehead against yours “If not for his sake you must try, for me. For my sake I do not wish for this to go to. To see her harmed.” 

You've always known your mother has a very complicated relationship with rhaenyra if you can even call it that. She hated her, or at least that's what it seemed to be. 

She turns and grabs your bag before giving you a knowing look. 

“And I know you also have some unresolved things, do not deny it. I can recognize that look on your face. You must let these things go. Lest you end up like me.” 

You feel sick at the idea of Him. You hate jacaerys velaryon. Him and his stupid pride, his stupid face. His stupid everything. You have never hated anyone the way you hate him. You never understood how much a person could hate someone seemingly as much as your mother seemed to hate rhaenyra. The way she seemed to be all she could talk and even think about, going on endless rants to the point you felt you knew more about rhaenyra than your own mother. Until you met him. Now though you understood her completely, when you were no more than six jacaerys became the target of your anger.

Due to his torment of your twin brother aemond you quickly began to hate him. You would spend all your free time thinking of him and how to get back at him. The two of you always bickered and argued, when you would look over at him he was always already glaring at you. 

You were more than relieved he and his family were leaving after the incident at driftmark, but there was a part of you that when your days dragged on you began to miss him. Tormenting him of course there was no way you actually wished to spend time with him, there was no way…. Definitely not.

You haven't seen him during your time here. You would think he would be in the room where you were negotiating but he was nowhere to be seen. You did not want to ask about him, though the question has been on the tip of your tongue.

Suddenly there was some aggressive knocking on your door and you froze, turning towards it holding your breath. “Who is it?” there's no answer but you know exactly who it is and hesitant for a moment contemplating if you should even let him in. You end up swiftly making your way towards the door and opening it just a bit, planning on telling him to just go away but before you can say anything he's pushing his way into the room storming past you with an angry look on his way. You lean against the door to support yourself as you feel lightheaded just looking at him. 

“You are an absolutely ridiculous woman.” you do not speak, unable to, only able to watch as he runs his hand through his curls and paces in the room just as you had been. “Do you only wish to torment me?”

“I am here for my brother-” “You should not have come.” there's a venom in his voice and he does not even look at you. You find yourself growing more annoyed at him. “I do not care what you think. I would be gone by now if your mother had not been so stubborn-” he turns to look at you and makes his way to stand right in front of you, barely any space between the two of you. “Jacaerys…” “you do not want your brother to sit the throne.” it was true, as much as you tolerated your brother, the thought of him sitting on the throne disgusted you. He would not be a good king, “you know not of what i believe.” “I know this is true, you shouldn't lie to me.” 

“You act as if you know me.”

He scoffs, turning his head away from you for a moment before looking you dead in the eyes, so close you can feel his breath on your face. “I don't know you? I know that you hate the summer because you get too hot in your long dresses, i know you love whenever the chefs make cake and you would sneak into the kitchen to grab a slice, i know you despise your mothers perfume because it hurts your nose but you could never tell her such a thing because it brings her comfort,” he pauses for a moment moving somehow even closer to you, pressing his forehead against yours and closing his eyes, “i know when you are lying you scrunch up your nose,” he moves his head to your neck and takes a deep breath of your scent before lifting his head back up and his forehead is against yours once more. “And worst of all I know you desire me as I do you.” 

You shake your head as you suppress a whimper from your neck, “no,,,” “you will not deny it. You will not deny something I know to be true with every bone in my body with every drop of blood in my body.”  

With a long silence between you, neither of you saying a word he pushes away from you and goes back to standing where he was, that angry look back on his face. “You must go.” you look outside and notice that the storm has since stopped, your brain is currently running a mile a minute barely able to think. “I shall head back to the keep-” “that is not far enough!” 

He grips his head in frustration as he begins to pace once more, “you could travel to dorne, to essos to bravos and it would not be far enough to free me from this torment you have put me through, For the thoughts of you that plague my mind to cease to exist. Even after I pass I am sure when I am faded to nothing but bones and ashes the picture of you will be laced where my heart should be.” 

He quickly moves back over to you and cups your face once more bringing himself so explicitly close to you he should be kissing you. The way you two are pressed against each other is more intimate than a kiss, more romantic than any confession. You lose yourself in the heat of the moment, unable to control yourself for a while. You want to kiss him, you want him to kiss you. Before you regain the small sense of control you have to push him away from you shaking your head. “I must go home, my mother-” “Stay here. Stay with me.” He stares into you a way nobody else ever has, like he's truly trying to see you and not the facade you put on for everyone else. “My mind, body and soul yearns and burns for you uncontrollably and now that you stand in front of me I cannot take it.” He takes your hand and presses it against his heart where you can feel it being erratically as yours was as well. “Tell me you do not want me and I shall turn my back and allow you to leave. But do not beg me to watch you as I fear my heart cannot take it.” 

He takes another step closer to you and does not break eye contact with you. “Tell me you do not desire me and tell me at once my love, my heart please you must.” 

You shake your head as tears begin to form in your eyes, “I cannot.” “then stay.” you angle your head and kiss him, praying that through your actions he can too understand that you indeed burn for him the way he burns for you. You decide in the moment to say fuck it. Fuck your mother, fuck your brother, fuck the crown and screw everyone and everything else that is not him because you hate him so much that he has fully consumed every part of you like a parasite. Yet you have done the same to him. 

[cxffecoupx]

cheol as a girl dad

girl dad! seungcheol fluff, a little smut (i tried) warnings: reader has a womb (obviously), mentions of pregnancy, body insecurity, sex (only a little) word count: 747 author's note: a little late but I had to do it for daddy cheol😔✊ very self-indulgent, not proof-read, made very hastily cause again, daddy cheol😔✊ hope you enjoy!! do lemme know what you think of it :) check out 'cheol as a boy dad' here.

girl dad! cheol who absolutely melts in the hospital room when he sees his baby girl. who combusts into a puddle when he gets to hold his beloved baby in his arms. who pats your head and kisses you in your tired, exhausted, post-delivery state, murmuring how proud he is of you and how thankful he is that you gave him his most precious baby.

girl dad! cheol who whenever she cries at night, calmly tells you to go back to sleep and rushes over. you think he's allowing you your rest, and while that's true, it's mostly cause he gets to spend more time with his baby.

girl dad! cheol who spends so much time with his baby, it's concerning. you end up wondering if you even exist, but the simple truth is he just can't get enough of his babygirl.

girl dad! cheol who you find making out with you at the most random of times. when you're in the kitchen, cooking dinner. when you're working from home. when you're folding your baby's clothes. you both end up all over yourselves, he's kissing every inch of your body. the same body you cried over during and after your pregnancy. the same body you'd end up being so insecure about, about the belly, the extra fat, the breasts and hips, the stretch marks and the mood swings.

he kisses you to make up for all the time you couldn't because you both were taking care of your beloved baby. he kisses you to let you know how much he still loves you. he kisses you to tell you how he still finds you attractive, even with the stretch marks and extra fat and the lot. he kisses you, and you feel every emotion and every message of his that's being communicated silently yet surely.

girl dad! cheol who loves and hates it when his little babygirl starts to grow. watching his daughter start crawling, then standing and later walking, it suddenly dawns on him that she's growing up fast and isn't his baby anymore. that doesn't stop him from smothering all his love though.

girl dad! cheol who loves loves LOVES to tie your child's hair in ribbons and dress her up in cute dresses and make her wear sparkly shoes. who accidentally ends up taking away from you the joy of dressing up your child, but you don't mind as long as you get to watch them giggling and joking during those times.

girl dad! cheol who comes up to you at the most randomest of days and continues to thank you for bringing into this world someone who he cherishes so much. and although he apologises for not spending as much time with you, he promises to make sure you realise that there's no one else he'd rather do all this with.

girl dad! cheol who cries when your daughter has to go to school for the first time. probably more than the girl herself. you end up having to kiss his pout away. whether things escalate from there is upto how he feels at the moment.

girl dad! cheol who fucks you dumb some nights, a desparate need to put another baby in you. he moans stupidly about how proud he is of your first pregnancy and how he'd love to see another one too. you definitely don't mind cause the sex is obviously too good.

girl dad! cheol who swears he heard his heart shatter when his babygirl tells him about her crush. sure he understands, but to realise that she now has another man in his life??? he's speechless (and dramatic).

but he's also the one who loves to hear the little tidbits and gossips about her school, and who gets giddy along with her when she tells him how her crush finally noticed her. he's also the one who buys a tub of icecream in the middle of the night, when she's heartbroken. her best friend and her protector, all in one.

girl dad! cheol who's happy whenever he thinks about his two favourite girls. who's thankful for all that him and you went through, and for his little bundle of joy, who made him a thousand times happier, if that was even possible. who's forever proud of you for your struggles and of your daughter for basically everything. who realises with every father's day wish by his daughter and his partner that he wouldn't have this any other way.

[fancyfeathers]

Hey Fancy! Apologies if this is a wee bit long but it’s a random platonic yandere Batfam idea I’ve had for a long time. Adopted daughter who becomes an investigative journalist. (With Outlast crossover)

Darling was a product of one of Bruce’s affairs and he never really cared, he paid child support and that’s about it. Darling didn’t care as she and her mother were happy together until they weren’t. Darling’s mother starts to have to work longer hours, coming back more and more hollow until there’s nothing left but her corpse. Darling had a gut feeling her mom died because her mom’s boss was cutting corners in safety at some chemical plant and forcing long hours on workers. 

Of course darling has to go to her father’s house now and live with him (I imagine she was adopted a year before Jason died) after a week she’s asked if she wants to become Robin to which she refuses. She wants to fight the criminals who act as altruists, such as corrupt leaders and politicians, companies who have blood on their hands but hide it, because that’s the hero who could save her mom. Bruce accepts this but the family just seems to forget her. Not out of maliciousness, except for Damien, they just don’t have time for a non-vigilante sibling. She feels alone and when Tim and then Damien are welcomed into the family they neglect her too. Damien even mocks her for being useless. The only family she had there is Alfred, as he made sure to care for darling whenever s he could. 

When darling turns 18, she gets out of that house and goes to a university to study journalism. She becomes an investigative journalist who gained her reputation for going deep into the depths of corruption’s depravity and meets this one dude named Miles Upshur who she becomes partners with as they both are freelance journalists because they don’t censor the truth. They get an email one day telling them about messed up things happening at Mount Massive asylum.

They both go and cue the events of the game Outlast and Outlast Whistleblower. I’m not sure if you are comfortable with the contents of those games so I summarize it by saying the patients were being experimented on and broke free causing Miles to get trapped in the asylum with no way to fight back. He only has places to hide and a camera with night vision that drains his batteries. He gets very injured and Whistleblower is the same concept as it’s the same place but from the perspective of the one who sent the email. I imagine the darling was somehow separated from miles but ended up getting out of there with the whistleblower.

She took the footage and instead of letting the whistleblower release it, as the company begging the asylum would hunt him and his wife and kids down, she would be the one as her reputation precedes her. But after dropping the whistleblower off at his home she has no choice but to go to her old one, cause if the company couldn’t ruin her reputation, could just silence her like they did with everyone else. The batfam is going to be very confused when a freshly traumatized, bloody,and bruised darling shows up on their front porch, clutching camcorders to her chest like a lifeline. Who knows, they might just not let her out if this is how she ends up after being on her own.

again really sorry if this is weird or too long! It’s just been brewing in my brain and I needed to share it

God it’s been forever since I played Outlast, I don’t remember everything about the game cause I was screaming and crying for the most part and I literally could only watch Whistleblower and had to skip some stuff

This might not be entirely game accurate cause it has been a hot minute but I will do my best

I do not think Bruce would be exactly neglectful especially since this is yandere content and obsession starts when they normally meet their darling, like a root that takes hold and begins to grow after certain events. I imagine that her mom did not want her daughter to meet Bruce cause she thought he would not be a good influence, the whole billionaire playboy persona. She raised her daughter on her own until her death, her daughter can remember sitting in the hospital when the doctor told her that she was dead, died of radium poisoning, her body decaying while she was still alive.

She remembers sitting in the waiting room of the hospital, waiting after the staff called her biological father to pick her up, a nurse sitting with her. She knew why her mother did not want her to meet her, but her mother was wrong to an extent. She honestly expected someone like Alfred to pick her up, who she knew because he would meet with her mother for fund related affairs since she did not want her daughter knowing her father…

But Bruce was the one who picked her up, in fact he practically came running when he got the call from the hospital when he was at a gala.

When Bruce came into the hospital waiting room, he kneeled down to her level and took her little hands in his, he felt so sorry for not knowing, he could have helped, but for now what he can tell her is…

“Everything will be okay, I’ll keep you safe.”

Bruce is not intentionally neglectful, he really does try his best, but between being Batman and handling his daily affairs as Bruce Wayne he just does not have the time besides to have meals with her. He does keep her safe, puts a tracker in her bag or jacket in case anything goes wrong, but as if something will go wrong while she is playing soccer after school.

Dick is also probably very busy as well to give her much attention but he is pretty similar to Bruce in the way that he cares but he just does not have the time to now that he is Nightwing. He occasionally takes her out to do things, and he apologizes for not being able to spend more time with her, but he is just so busy.

Her and Jason are probably the closest, he is her big brother in his eyes. He helps her transition into her new home the most, making pillow forts, playing video games, taking her out to play in the snow. Then one morning she comes downstairs to see Alfred looking so solemn and Bruce sitting in an armchair in the living room, his head in his hands and still in the Batman suit, but no sign of Jason…

“Dad?”

She knows something is wrong so she hugs Bruce and it is the first time she sees him cry, he hugs her back, as if scared to let her go… but that is because he is.

“Oh sweetheart… I am so sorry.”

He was going to ask her to be a Robin one day, Jason would not have the mantle forever since after all Dick didn’t, but now he can’t stand the idea of loosing her, so he’ll keep her safe, even if that means keeping her at an arms length.

I think after Jason’s death he would probably send her to boarding school in a safer city like Metropolis or boarding school in a small town with next to no crime rate. It breaks his heart to send her away like that, but it is what keeps her alive. She comes home on the holidays and breaks but there is just an aura about the house now that Jason is gone, a constant state of sadness and as if a hand is holding onto her, which is fair because when she is home she isn’t allowed off of the manor grounds, Gotham is just too dangerous. That doesn’t mean they make more time for her, no her summers and holidays are just as lonely as they were before, only this time she is isolated from the outside world and left lonely by her own family.

Tim is similar to Dick in the way that he feels bad but does not make much of an effort to spend more time with her, even less so than Dick does. He only texts her every now and then so show he somewhat cares and talks with her at family meals, but that’s it.

Then there is Damian, she cannot stand him. She knows he grew up entitled in the League of Assassins but he cannot even pretend to be nice. He talks to her as if she is beneath him, despite the fact that when he is brought into the manor she is a senior in high school.

“No wonder you never became Robin, why would father let the most useless child even-“

“Damian, that is enough!”

Luckily Bruce or Alfred normally intervenes and defuses the situation before Damian says something too extreme.

Then she graduates high school and moves on to university, which Bruce pays for in full without hesitation. It is there in university that she meets her partner in crime, Miles Upshur. They are practically joined at the hip and then when that first finals come around and their project is to do a mock investigation and article and they get to choose a topic to do it on and then Miles asked her…

“Hey, what do ya want to do this on? Lexcorp? Abuse in the ballet industry? Maybe-“

“The radium scandal in the Gotham City Chemical Plant.”

“That’s oddly specific, why?”

“It’s how my mom died.”

And that’s how everything started with their chosen path of investigation. They graduate and the two of them even get photos in their graduate robes and degrees together. Her family comes, which an empty seat to honor Jason, despite him watching from a back doorway, she does not need to know what happened to him in the Lazarus Pit and he certainly won’t be caught dead with Bruce at the time.

Bruce is only okay with her going into journalism because he thinks she’ll be working behind a desk at a paper, not what her and Miles plan on doing…

If he knew he certainly would not be happy and try to find a way to interfere…

But sadly he never remembered to ask exactly what she was going to do.

Her and Miles have done a number of stories together, after the first five or so Bruce found out the kind of work she was doing and repeatedly called her to try to talk her out of it, but she would ignore his calls every time.

It was just supposed to be another job, not whatever this was…

They got an email from an anonymous worker, asking to investigate the Murkoff Corporation and their actions at Mount Massive Asylum. The two even joked during their car ride over to the asylum, laughing about stories she shared about her life at the manor and their old college days, they had no idea what they would find inside.

The asylum even looked messed up from the outside, but the inside was a thousand times worse…

Patients who were experimented on, and now they were inhuman and trying to kill, disassemble, mutilate them, you get the idea…

An insane priest to put it lightly…

Dead bodies all over, murdered in horrible ways…

Everyone left alive in there was less than human, insane, or just about to go insane…

And when I say insane, I mean Joker levels of insane.

They get separated along the way, which is good for her, but not so good for Miles.

She makes it out alive thanks to their anonymous source who sent them the email in the first place, Waylon Park who is a software engineer. The two escape together and due to her shock she can’t remember much until long after she left Waylon at his home and she is pulled over at a rest stop half way between Lake County, Colorado and Gotham City, New Jersey, way to exhausted to continue on. She reaches for her phone and finally calls Bruce back.

“D-dad… are you there?”

“Yes, what’s wrong? Did something happen?”

“S-so much… I want to go home… please I…”

She passes out from exhaustion while on the phone…

But luckily, do you remember what I said about Bruce putting trackers on her things? He never stopped when she was an adult.

When she wakes up she is back home in the manor, in her old room. She is laying flat on her back with everyone around her, even Damian and…

“Jason?”

“Ya… I’m here, lovebug. Just rest, you certainly need it.”

“Need it? For fucks sake she is missing a finger!”

“Dick, shut up-“

Bruce yells them to shut up and he holds her bandaged and stitched hand in his…

“Sweetheart, what happened?”

She only points to the camera in her things as asks them not to play it in front of her. They all watch it together in the Batcave before patrol and…

“Oh my god.”

It is worse than what the Joker did to Jason.

When she finally recovers and is going to write the story and-

No she is not allowed to, Bruce will handle the situation, most likely bringing it to the attention of the Justice League.

In fact she is not allowed to write another story again, she is not leaving the manor again. She is not a hero, she is just a reporter, and Jason is unable to fully move on after what happened to him so how well will she fair out in the real world in her fragile mental state? What if something happens that triggers those memories? They are not letting her take that risk.

Most days she is kept in her room, a controlled environment to make her feel safe. Then most nights one of her brothers or Bruce sleeps beside her in bed after patrols in case nightmare come up and she wakes up screaming. If her mental state get too bad they’ll sedate her so at least her mind is calm and she is not getting flashbacks. Bruce eventually gets her a therapist to work through what happened to her so at least she can have some what of a normal life after what happened…

Well as normal as you can get when you are locked inside for the rest of your life.

[kiss-me-muchoo]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭 || 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐬 𝐀𝐜𝐚𝐜𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝐕𝐞𝐫𝐮𝐬

part one: here || part two: something real

summary_ having an affair with General Acacius overseas while conquering lands turned into a problem after coming back to Rome, when you fell for a gladiator that turned out to be a missing prince.

warnings_ CRINGE, girthy age gap (legal) (I’m 20, sorry) historical inaccuracy, angst, violence, gore, animal death, sexism and misogyny, fluff but angst, a lot of canon divergence bc I said so. NO PROOFREAD, BEWARE!

note_ I can’t remember which year the movie is set in, I can’t remember many things but let me know if I fucked up too much. And listen to fallen fruit from Lorde while reading.

♪ ♫ Pedro playlist

♫ ♪ Paul playlist

✰ Index (+ fics here)

𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ 𓆇𓆸⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ 𓆇𓆸⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ 𓆇𓆸

The sea was a free land. Nobody could conquer it because there wasn’t anything valuable floating around. Perhaps at the bottom of the ocean, a treasure may lay, but no man had shown the desire to dive into the deep.

The screams of the innocents are loud enough to make you feel empathy for them. But Acacius had trained you to put a mask of neutrality when leading war.

Loving the most effective soldier of Rome was your little secret. He married the daughter of an old emperor and he fought to get her privileges and prevent her from danger.

Always the insane little girl running around the palace, rambling about plants, the stars, a dream of Rome in flames. It was enough to be secretly sent to a scribe's university in Egypt for some time.

Upon your return, not much had changed, only that your father, once lead of the council, then the wise of Rome had died. Consequently, your evil stepbrothers were crowned emperors. They named you a soldier and made sure you were at every battlefront, hoping for your death.

But your general trained you well, and with months of practice, you ended up tangled up with him on his sheets in Greece.

Adultery was considered a crime in Rome and you’d give the perfect reason to your brothers to burn you like a witch. Or worse, to send you to fight at the arena of the Colosseum.

But the people who accompanied you and Acacius overseas were loyal and couldn’t care less if you had an older man fucking you each night. They only cared about you being a good soldier on the battlefront and being a good princess in Rome.

With a couple of hours left to be home again, you had your wounds checked. Conquering Numidia was one of the last African cities to be marked by the Romans and your brothers desperately wanted to own it. Only a few burns scattered across your leg and your shoulder needed stitches were the price to pay.

The wooden floor creaked and the general turned around alert but as soon as he saw you, he seemed to calm down.

Your arms wrapped around him and he immediately had to lean and kiss you. His lips tasted like devotion, peace, and lust. Acacius always grabbed your hips first. Then he moved to your waist, only to end up caressing your cheeks as his lips kept marking you his.

“What did the doctor say?” asked Acacius as he gasped for air.

“Nothing to worry about…” You nodded at him and he turned his back to you again, looking at his open windows, to the sea.

“What about yours? How is the scar on your nose?”

“It’s fine. Could’ve been worse” You walked towards him, sensing he had bathed like you as well, his hair looked perfectly curly and you couldn’t help but smile.

You could stay looking at the horizon forever, just because he was by your side. The sound of the waves calmed your mind after another day of calamities brought by war.

“For those who chose the sea, greatness waits at the end of the rainbow,” you said smiley. But the general remained stood silent.

“Those are ludicrous tells, the truth is that even war has infected the sea as well.”

“Because we chose to fight, then yes, the sea is also an arena. But if we chose not to, the way will not depict war” his eyes kept looking at you, completely fixated and even threatening, like Acacius was trying to understand how much you were judging him.

“We do this because we don’t have any other choice, princess y/n,” Acacius said, finally turning to look at you.

“We could run away, to the south, the islands of the Tyrrhenian Sea are empty, nobody wants to live there” your voice trembling, nervous and waiting for his response. He stared at nothing, probably thinking. And that made you uneasy.

“I can’t leave Rome, I have to go back to…” he said coldly.

“Your wife….Right”

Silence. Even the sea seized the sound of the waves.

“Haven’t you told her?”

“What’s there to be told? I said this was only a thing of passion and lust” You bit your tongue at his harsh words.

“Was it? Would you say that all those nights you shared your past with me meant nothing, Marcus?”

There it was. His most personal name, that one nobody used. The general got closer to you, paying attention to your face. Princesses did not have scars, but you did. He wanted to say so much, but he couldn’t. You noticed how his fingers were about to trace the pink scar on your chin but he moved away.

“I was drunk most of the nights, doping the pain” Finally your eyes crystallized.

“Do you love Lucilla, General?” His steps stopped then turned around to face you one last time.

His eyes looked doubtful but soon landed on his feet.

“… I do love her” you nodded, holding the tears and bursting out of his room in anger.

“Of course you do”

Your disappointment was so evident that Acacius was able to look at your face reddening and tears falling freely. He could only sigh and go back to pack his things and get ready to arrive in Rome again.

If only you knew…

…

The crowds of Rome couldn’t stop screaming your name. It was “PRINCESS Y/N!” and “ACACIUS!” everywhere.

You were no hero, you just wanted a peaceful life in a free Rome with the man you loved. And you can feel his hand brushing yours while his left salutes the parade of people chanting both of your names. The truth is you have no purpose but to serve your brothers and pretend that is your life.

The twins always hated you. Their mother was a wealthy woman but yours was the emperor’s true love. The twins used to pull your hair and always picked poisonous berries to give you as a meal while being toddlers. It got worse as everyone noticed you were your father’s favorite. And with him gone, you were utterly alone in the world.

Your clumsy steps made you arrive later. There was no crown for you waiting like it had been for Acacius. Geta and Caracalla were talking to him. And when you noticed the sword in the general’s neck, your face went serious.

“Do not forget the privileges we’ve made for your wife” you heard Geta saying.

“Same benefits we’re making for your whores, frater” The twins turned to look at you, quickly releasing Acacius and going straight to you. Their golden armors were a mere matter of display. They could barely wield a sword. They were bad with the bow and arrow and their reflections were poor too. They were good with numbers and shapes, but that wasn’t much in the city they shaped. One full of segregation and violence.

“Dear, soror… you’re back…” you think Geta gets closer to hug you, but his hand has raised and he gives you a sharp slap across the cheek.

“Dazzling and with such a big mouth as always” he added while you looked down, your cold hand against the reddening skin and sending him the worst look you had.

“Leave the princess alone, emperor. We should be focusing on the games ahead. We brought many slaves that some of them could fit as gladiators” Acacius said, looking affectionately at you, with disguise.

Caracalla only laughs in your face and his monkey reaches you for some seconds, but your brother pulls him away quickly. You wonder how far his disease has spread. Before leaving Rome, he was completely against seeing a doctor.

“Acacius is right, Geta. Let’s focus on the games” the twins agreed but sure, they had to humiliate you one last time.

“Alright then. But the next time I see you, dear y/n… I don’t want to see your hair down freely. You look like a whore and not the princess of Rome” he whispered loud enough to make everyone hear. But finally, the twins were gone.

“Are you alright?” The general asked but you rolled your eyes.

“I don’t need your help, Acacius. I’ve dealt with Geta and Caracalla since the day I was born. Which was before we met you” he sighed, understanding you were still mad from your last conversation. He appreciated your free hair, long and healthy despite the fires you went through while in combat.

“I just don’t want to see you hurt. It’s enough they sent you to serve in the war when you should be here, safe from the horrors”

“Go home to your wife, Acacius. Your dinner will be cold…” you spit out with a bitter tone before walking away, disappearing through the walls of the palace.

…

Standing naked, dripping, and waiting for servants to dry you up, you stare at the dress hanging in your room. It had been months since you wore a dress, used to armor and tight braids, and the sensation of the fabric felt odd.

As a kid, you wished to befriend your servants, but they remained professional and apologetically brushed away your questions. Which made you feel even more lonely while they dressed you up; placing gold jewelry and rings with quartz, spraying perfume, and cleaning your teeth. Geta and Caracalla always stole the sweets from you as kids, you thanked them because instead, it was Caracalla who ended up with a decayed tooth and a gold one as a replacement.

“You’re ready, princess,” said one of the servants and you smiled at her as a thank you.

The whole time while you and your brothers awaited to arrive at the Colosseum, you ignored them. You sneaked away as soon as you arrived. Knowing the place like the palm of your hand, you took a secret passage, in hopes to go and tend your horse to delay the entertainment as long as you could.

Gladiator fights were of no interest to you. But the people loved it. Their ignorance made you understand why they hadn’t tried to throw your brothers from the thrones.

But being months away made you forgetful of the architecture of the Colosseum, forgetful enough to end up in the cells of gladiators. Looking perplexed, you gulped nervously. There were indeed many slaves brought.

Being the only woman there made you the center of attention. Even worse when you looked exactly like a princess would do.

“Princess y/n, What are you doing here?” Asked one of the high-rank soldiers, running towards you.

“I wanted to tend my horse. It was brought here by accident” you replied, eyes wandering through the cells, noticing the people inside them were full of new people, probably from Numidia. You wonder if they recognized you.

Your eyes met the ocean-blue ones of a man, he certainly recognized you as he looked at you with anger. You gulped once again, looking away from him. But his gaze had been so strong that you didn’t hear a servant come running from the end of the hallway.

“A TIGER ESCAPED! A TIGER ESCAPED! CLOSE THE DOORS!” he screamed and soon everyone went into panic mode. You didn’t have enough time to process what he said and do anything. You stood there confused for some seconds. The violent roars of the animal could be heard closer. You looked around trying to find a weapon.

“Stay behind me, princess,” said the same soldier but you didn’t trust him so you went to grab a bow and arrow. The prisoners yelled and quickly you understood they were having a private show. They hated you for being Roman, and they thought they would see you dying.

But you wouldn’t give them that satisfaction as much as you sympathized with them.

The tiger appeared, big and imposing. The animal was angry, visibly distressed, and ready to attack.

You had killed men, but an animal was different. There was no exact description of what to do. Just pure instinct. So you try to calm yourself before the tiger spots you and the soldier, who are the only ones that remain vulnerable. The guards closed the entrances as protocol, unbeknownst that you were there. And it had been too late to use the secret passage.

You felt the same man’s eyes on you and indeed, he looked carefully at you, probably wondering what would be your next move.

“PRINCESS, STAY AWAY!” The soldier screamed when the tiger came running towards you two.

The tiger jumped and threw the soldier, roaring as it tried to kill him. So you ran away in hopes of aiming at the eye of the animal to gain time. Your hands shaking and you could feel your legs get tangled up in the fabric of your dress. But your nervousness isn’t visible as your hands work on getting ready for the arrow. You don’t have time to calculate, the tiger has already bitten the soldier’s fingers.

You hit it very near the eye and the animal roared even louder, in pain. That’s when you spotted the sword the soldier had left behind, where you threw yourself to, as the tiger had tried to attack you again. The man with blue eyes pushed the sword towards you from inside the cell and you didn’t even look to thank him, you only grabbed the weapon and rolled to the right before the animal could scratch your face and kill you.

You heard the soldier cry out in pain but you couldn’t help him. Thinking you could end the beast chasing you, you failed, sinking the sword in the ribs of the animal. You felt a deep scratch in your arm and you cried out. Anger quickly builds up as you know you had to get out of there before everyone at the coliseum found out. The tiger roared one last time and before it could throw you to the sandy ground you grabbed another arrow and directly pierced the eye of the animal. Blood starts pouring and before the tiger can try to bite and break your neck, your hands end up in its mouth.

The fangs were dangerously digging into your hands and more blood started coming. Scarlet droplets fell all over your face and you didn’t care. You screamed in pain and pulled all the strength in your body to put the pressure on your arms and hands. The men inside the cells cheered and made you even more angered. Until you had torn open the tiger’s mouth, breaking its jaw and killing the animal.

Breathe….

Pushing the dead animal aside, you sighed, resting on the dirty floor for a couple of seconds before taking a long breath and standing up.

Every man inside each cell looked at you quietly. What’s there to say?

Five guards open the main entrance and look confused at the mess, then at you tending the heavily injured soldier.

“Bring a doctor,” you tell them and they nod without asking more questions. Only one comes to your side.

“The games are about to begin, princess. I must escort you back to where you should be” Trying to catch your breath, you nodded.

“Do not say a word about this mess” The guard only bowed his head in agreement.

The least you could do was to put some bandages around the bloody hand of the soldier. Then you cleaned yourself and noticed you were a mess.

Giving that soon-to-be gladiator one last look, you tried to thank him with your eyes for what he had done to help you. He understood, giving you a cold nod.

And as you walked towards the royal platea, you wondered if that was the slave your brothers mentioned. A poet…

“Oh heavens! What happened to you?” Asked Lucilla as soon as you tried to take a seat beside Geta. Then everyone turned to look at you in horror. You noticed Acacius looked worried and he couldn’t keep his eyes away from the blood in your dress and bandaged arm.

“An accident” you replied politely at the woman, not in the mood to face the wife of your ex-lover.

“You look horrible,” said Caracalla.

“It won’t; happen again, frater” you tiredly answered, sinking onto the chair, ignoring Acacius’ eyes on you.

Soon you are surprised to see the gladiator who helped you in the arena. You don’t face him when he ends up winning and he looks at you. But you do notice Lucilla’s behavior and quickly you have connected the dots.

What an odd coincidence…

…

This time, you checked the animals first, then you made sure nobody had seen you entering the cells, but you went where the mysterious gladiator of blue eyes rested.

“Barbarian, monkey eater, slave, gladiator…. Prince of Rome, How may I call you? Hanno or Lucius?” Soon you had him inches away from your face. At that moment, you had time to appreciate his features. He was handsome and looked pretty much like he belonged to Roman royalty. But his gaze was fueled by anger and pain.

“What do you want?”

“I know Lucilla came before me. She had been waiting for you ever since I can remember” he looked at you with cold eyes and unbothered. But you knew he was curious about you too.

“What do you care? You’re the princess, you support all of this” his anger was palpable, it was part of his way of fighting you had noticed.

“Who did you lose?” You asked.

“My wife” he replied after a little silence, you nodded apologetically. He didn’t believe you.

“My father was a friend of your grandfather, part of the council. Now I realize that when he was elected emperor, he started hunting you down. I’m sorry”

“You don’t. You joined their cause and you fight proudly on the battlefront. I saw you…” you chuckle sarcastically.

“The twins you met the other day are my half-brothers. And they have tried to kill me since I was born. They sent me to war as punishment, but Acacius trained me well enough to survive each battle”

“So what? Should I pity you?”

“No, please don’t. But I don’t support any of this. I want to be a free woman and be with the man I love but I don’t think I’ll live enough to make it happen” he seemed interested in your words but pretended he wasn’t. Either way, you kept talking.

“You can’t kill Acacius. He’s leading a rebellion against my brothers” he stood quiet, trying to taste the lies in your words. But you seemed very truthful.

“Interesting that you want his head when all I’ve wanted is his heart” Through the cell his eyes sparkled and looked tentatively at you, for some seconds you got too attached to them.

“What about Macrinus?” The old man had been trying to gain your brother’s trust and you thought that was suspicious.

“Don’t trust him. Stop sharing any detail that could tell him what you want or fear”

“I don’t trust you either”

“You shouldn’t,” you said, a little smile unconsciously appearing on your face. And to your surprise, Lucius smiled too. There was something about you that he found lovely. You seemed honest, but he couldn’t trust you yet. So he cursed once you had left, you had him looking forward to meet you again.

…

Across the room runs a large table filled with food. A variety of fruits, bread, lamb, duck, pork, and lots of wine. Your hands float around the punch though, reminding you of the first time you tried Egyptian beer. You ended up drunk with Marcus Acacius, laughing on the sand and soon both ended up naked. You frown, trying to forget that messy night.

“You’ve been oddly quiet these past days,” said Lucilla appearing by your side, grabbing more fruits and placing them on her plate.

“I’ve been busy”

“Have you met Macrinus?” She said pointing in disguise at the man who laughs with some senators and your brothers.

“He’s been around for some time. But I don’t like him” you confessed.

“I’ve also met his poet gladiator” you added, opting to not look at her eyes because she responded very shocked.

“What?”

“He wants to kill Acacius for the death of his late wife, avenge his homeland, etcétera etcétera. I told him not to because we plan to free the city. You can’t proceed with the nonsense of taking him out of the Colosseum. Your son can’t be the alibi to start a revolution, Lucilla” you said whispering. She gasped in shock, wondering how you knew already. All while you carefully watched if any of your brothers or that nosy man were looking. Not even Acacius was looking.

You sigh, shrugging and looking at the woman.

“As soon as he came out wielding that sword in the arena, your face said everything. Then just by hearing his mysterious backstory. It was obvious, Lucilla” She didn’t say anything else, so you continued.

“I shall repeat myself once again. You won’t encourage Acacius to get your boy out of the Colosseum.”

“Why not?” you chuckled at the woman.

She was very pretty, sweet and caring. No wonder why the general loved her.

“You and your husband were lucky that I found out one of your maids heard everything and was about to spill it”

“What did you do, y/n?” She asked tired, thinking destiny was so meticulous and how you had ended up in such a position to hear and stop the maid before chaos unleashed.

“Let’s say I granted her eternal silence,” you said, Lucilla sighed, understanding. And before she could thank you, you spoke again.

“Wait till Lucius is in the arena to save him. And stop looping Acacius into this madness, you’ll make him get killed” She understood everything by the way your eyes looked at her. It shocked her, but she remained calm as you left to sit at the table. Only a woman in love spoke with a mix of venom and sweetness like that.

Taking a seat beside the General, he turned to look at you.

“What were you talking about there with Lucilla?” He asked in a very low but deep tone.

“Just gossiping about Senator Brutus and his new wife…” he knew you were lying but tried to act normal.

“Princess y/n… How true are those rumors about you breaking the jaw of a tiger?” asked a scribe, making you look away from Acacius, Lucilla returned to the table and your brother was already laughing at you for something you couldn’t hear.

“Well… it’s true, domine.” The table burst into laughter. Only the general and his wife remained silent.

“You did what?” Asked Acacius looking at you in horror.

“A princess shouldn’t be in combat” added Macrinus, making you set your eyes on him.

“Oh I am a princess but I’m also a soldier, domine. And I have to thank my brothers because they made me a woman capable of wielding more than one weapon by sending me to war” The twins stopped laughing. Geta sipped from his wine and returned to you.

“That’s true. While you were there getting battle scars, Caracalla and I focused on diplomacy, ensuring we gained more land” You want to laugh at his face. The council did that, not the twins.

“Did you ensure the poor were stable by cutting from the rich? Did you do the math to financially cover each branch Rome rules, Geta? Or did you and Caracalla just point at lands on a map to get like prizes?”

“y/n…” Acacius whispered your name, trying to make you stop. The tension has risen very quickly.

“You have one task, soror. To give us India. A woman shouldn’t even be speaking on the table” Caracalla said when you were about to stand up and burst out. Marcus grabbed your hand under the table.

And immediately calmed you down.

“I’m only saying you should wisely rule this great empire. Do not let it fall…”

Soon the chatting turned into drinking after the awkward moment. When most of the men were getting drunk you returned to the table, cautiously grabbing food again. When you looked up, you encountered the image of Acacius kissing Lucilla. And it made your blood boil.

In a thick piece of fabric, you placed bread, some fruits, cheeses, and a small piece of lamb.

“What are you doing?” you nearly screamed when you noticed Acacius standing by your side.

“I’m grabbing food”

“Isn’t it a little late to eat again?” He wasn’t judging you, he never would, but he was very curious.

You would start up a little fire after seeing the painful image of him kissing his wife.

“It’s not for me…” before he could ask you you sprinted away. His blood boiled too, his hand firmly grabbed your wrist to stop you.

“What are you playing?” He asked.

“Playing? I’m definitely not”

“Is this some kind of punishment for what I told you days ago?” You sighed.

“I didn’t mean to say it was nothing. But… you have to wait, y/n” Acacius whispered and you chuckled.

“I’ve waited long enough to realize you will always be trapped in a marriage with two different kinds of love. And Lucilla will never love you like you want because her heart will always beat for that gladiator whose name was carved from the Colosseum”

You had raised your voice, Lucilla was looking at you two, and everyone else was drunk. So you violently flinched away from the man, who looked at you with a mix of pain and rage.

You leave and he immediately sends a guard to follow you in disguise.

“We must talk,” Lucilla said to Acacius, taking his hand.

He nodded.

…

What did that man have that made you feel safe? He didn’t protest when you walked inside his cell. He didn’t demand you to go away. He quietly lets you inside, talk, and explain yourself.

Two visits filled with food from your dinners were enough to let him know you had no intention of killing him. Your curiosity must’ve been too big, his eyes too attractive, and an odd vibration that warmed your chest.

To be honest, you had no idea why you came back to him. You just felt something. And you hated to admit it.

“If the emperors have made your life so difficult, Why didn’t you leave?” Lucius asked. He had eaten everything you gave him and was sitting beside you on the dirty floor.

“Every time I tried to escape, I couldn’t make it far enough. So I stayed and accepted my fate. To serve them will keep me alive ” he nodded, finally understanding why you hadn’t revealed yourself against the evil emperors.

“You didn’t come down here just to talk”

“I didn’t. I- I guess I just want to believe you’ll do something greater than I have always tried. Everyone talks about your rage but I think you quite act like a prospect hero… with honor” you revealed and wanted to cut your thong like you did with that old maid. You hated oversharing. But instead, Lucius chuckled and you frowned confused, expecting him to talk.

“You reminded me of my wife…”

“How so?”

“She said similar things to you” Most unexpectedly, you blushed. Thankfully the darkness of the cell made it unnoticeable.

“I’m trying to find a way to get you out of here before your mother does something rushed”

“I was very harsh with her”

“How couldn’t you? I would have behaved the same way. But she loves you and she doesn’t want to let you go just when she found you” Lucius smiled once again, making you remain still, unsure of what to do next. Soon you realized the sun was very close to coming up again.

How many hours had you spent talking with the rightful Prince of Rome?

“I must go, Geta and Caracalla will know I spent the night away,” you said standing up, trying to clean the mess your dress had become.

“Will I see you again before that revolution happens?” You smiled, walking back near him.

He was tall, you had to completely raise your head to face him.

“The final day of the games is closer. I’ll bring you more food and I’ll try to see what will the next encounters look like”

“Thank you. I judged you too fast…” he said and you chuckled.

“You still have time to change your mind”

You didn’t notice when he closed the distance. Just when his face had been inches away from yours, you gasped.

But neither of you two protested, your lips touched his at the same time.

Tasting the wine you brought him made you feel intoxicated. No intrusive thoughts appeared while you kissed him.

You could only taste his passion, his need to take control. But all his hidden softness too. One of his hand caressed with softness your cheek and the other grasped your neck.

“Stay safe, Lucius,” you said as you moved away from him.

…

The whole day was lost because you spent it sleeping. Only when you woke up for dinner, did you learn you had missed the games of the day. But Lucius was alive at least. You dreamt of his kiss but when you woke up you had an odd sensation in your stomach. Confusion filled you and then… ache.

As you brushed your hair, you got lost looking at a red candle. It had been a present from your father some years ago. A red candle to be lit whenever you felt like you needed to feel love, he had said.

The wise emperor had wished to see his daughter with her true love. Just like had always wanted but couldn’t.

There was a broad shadow that you spotted through the mirror. It made you pull out a silver knife and point a the figure.

Soon the cape was removed and you sighed but also gasped shocked to see Acacius standing in the middle of your room.

“What are you doing here?” You asked worriedly, standing up and hurrying to close your windows.

“You had spent all these past nights in the Colosseum,” he said, sounding a little angered.

“Now you’re spying on me, Acacius?” He sighed exasperated.

“What are you doing with that gladiator?”

“What do you care?” You asked with defiance.

“He’s going to get you in trouble, princess y/n” Your eyes pierced his, but you decided to move away, leaning against the towers of your bed.

“He deserves more. And not only him, but every slave we brought and all those we left in ruins” you admitted, looking at the fire of the candle.

“They do, but it’s not our duty, at least not yet. We need to focus on the plan we have…” you wanted to roll your eyes and yell at him, his wife could’ve ruined everything and he was only paying attention to you.

Only paying attention to you?

“Stop going to see that man”

“His name is Hanno and I’ll visit whenever I desire” you spit out with bitterness and you knew he was angry. Acacius clenched his jaw and sighed once again. Under his cape rested his armor, his hair messy, and his scars fading.

“Why? Because he makes you feel things?”

You remained quiet. As simple as it was, his question took you by surprise.

“I-… I don’t know. I had no reason to go back to him, but I did it anyway”

“Oh heavens, y/n. Don’t you see that I’ve always told you to wait? Because I’m counting every golden coin I have to give you that house on the island you always point at. To leave Rome with you…”

It took you on a curve. You didn’t know what to say, only the tears wanted to be present.

His hands found your hips and his lips seek yours. Sometimes, while being overseas, you two would argue. And the only cure was to be silent and kiss after a day of ignoring each other.

This time feels different. You feel so confused.

His forehead softly bumped yours and you two stayed like that for some time.

“If you had those ideas to fulfill with me. Why do you remain married, Marcus?” He smiled.

“That’s different, satis. I was set to marry when you were very young. I just can’t undo it.”

“Why do I feel like you’re only doing this because you feel pressured?”

“It’s not like that”

“Either way you wouldn’t tell me that you love me. So it’s in vane…”

“BUT I DO LOVE YOU!”

You frowned, biting the inside of your cheek. For a moment you thought you could only hear how your heartbeats slowly thumped. What you wanted to hear for years had been delivered. It felt good, even right to hear it. And when you were about to believe it, something clicked.

“No, Marcus. You just realized you hate the idea of me falling in love with someone else. Even worse when it’s the son of your wife”

Without the strength to say anything else, you moved away. Your feet quickly dragged you out of your room, and then out of the palace.

You walked through the streets of Rome, seeing all the hunger, poverty, the lack of love from the government.

By midnight you arrived at the shore. The warm sand cured your bolting mind.

There was an imminent battle coming up. You had a place in the rebellion. And yet you had to be only thinking in two men. Who had made a mess of you in a matter of days.

You had nothing with any of them. It was just the causality of what they made you feel. Only one had made you feel utterly in love once. A little boy that always carried for you as a kid. No tears, no pain, just that little boy being your other half.

But there was no little boy now.

Lucius made you feel like the woman you would’ve been if you had escaped Rome years ago.

Acacius made you feel adored like the woman you turned into wasn’t as bad as you thought. He believed in you.

But it wasn’t enough. None of them were enough. Your mind was spiraling and you realized you were sobbing in the middle of the dark. You can hear and faintly distinguish the sea. You had cracked, like the fallen fruit every poet and philosopher always mentioned.

And even when you knew you had to only focus on the war, you still didn’t know what to do. You barely knew the men that had you losing it.

_________________________

Taglist: @stargirl-mayaa @willowpains @nicolebarnes

I don’t love the ending but I genuinely don’t know who should reader end up with. PLEASE SEND IDEAS!!