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#princess birds are humming birds
grimxark · 1 year
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shouldve been friends.  i think.
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donatellawritings · 20 days
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if requests(?) are open what do you think about bff!rafe whos absolutely down bad for reader ☺️
bff!rafe is honestly the most obsessive man ever and has no sense of boundaries ngl
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truth be told, you and rafe haven’t even known each other that long, barely a year, to be exact. when you had moved into the pretty little baby blue house that overlooked the busy docks and calm waters, rafe had just made his long overdue return to figure 8. you were fresh out of college, and as free as a baby bird — with a somewhat matured rafe who was patiently waiting on the perfect moment to swoop in and teach you to to fly — his way.
you see, rafe was the man of his family now, and as the leading man of the cameron lineage, he had no choice, but to become painfully aware of the damage he could cause. you shared the likeness of a baby deer — naive, dainty, and a little too welcoming … much to your own detriment, at times.
so, rafe took it upon himself to take you under his wing, making sure that he always had you in his line of vision. i mean, if he didn’t look out for you, who knows what kind of trouble you’d get into? which is exactly why he settled for being your best friend in the whole world, as you like to say — that is, until you’d finally snap out of the pink tinted dreamland you seemed to live in, and realize that you were better off just being his — being rafe’s girl.
“y’wanna try some?” you hummed, your manicured hand holding out the wand of your new tube of dior gloss as you mushed your swollen lips together, puckering your now shimmery lips in the mirror as you adored your new lipgloss.
met with silence, you rolled your eyes as rafe remained stood tall and authoritative behind you, his eyebrows furrowed as he fiddled with the collar of his polo shirt, “c’mon, kid — don’t have time to play games,” he shrugged his shoulders, before nudging the side of your jaw with the side of his ringed finger.
to anyone who wasn’t aware of your unique dynamic with rafe — the sight of a young girl dressed in nothing, but a mesh bralette that displayed her hard nipples and tiny silk shorts that sucked up into her ass, a bit bent over a vanity with a much taller man’s tented crotch ghosting right behind the curve of her ass, would be pretty incriminating.
but, in your eyes, it was just you and rafey, your very best friend in the entire world.
leaning back onto the balls of your sore feet, you completely missed the way rafe took in the ripple of your asscheeks as you let out an entitled huff, “i don’t want to go golfing,” you mumble, your arms crossed firmly across your swelled tits as you send rafe a bratty frown in the mirror.
mocking your bratty behavior with an exaggerated pout, rafe lets out a feigned whimper, “aw, baby doesn’t wanna hang out with rafey anymore?”
shoving the gloss-coated wand into the tube, you toss it onto the vanity, your bouncy blown-out hair whipping against rafe’s chest as you push your weak palm into rafe’s hard torso, earning another condescending laugh from the blue-eyed man, “i don’t want to hang out with you, anymore,” you announce, eyes glazed with frustrated tears.
“y’sure? got lots of pretty girls who would love for me to be their best friend,” rafe cocks his head to the side, a knowing smirk tugging on his pink lips as he watches you carefully think about your next words.
with a hesitant nod, you sniffle, “i’m sure.”
“okay — i’ll miss you, princess,”
your doe eyes widened with genuine concern as rafe pressed a kiss to the top of your hair, before taking a few steps backwards from you, turning to reach for the handle of your bedroom door. he can’t leave — you were only kidding!
“stop! i was just kidding,” you panic, perky tits bouncing as you rush over to rafe who is biting back a cocky grin.
forcing a solemn expression, rafe gently raised a ringed hand to hold your jaw, “can’t joke like that, huh? almost made me get a new best friend, pretty girl,” rafe twists the knife, his stomach growing warm and fluttery as he watches you lightly bounce on your feet, before accepting your outstretched arms as he carries you back to your pillow and squishmallow-covered bed.
“sleep over?” you questioned sweetly.
“of course, kid.”
。⋆୨୧˚
wet lip smacks and muffled moans filled the four walls of your bedroom as you laid semi-underneath a now shirtless rafe. one leg hooked over his hip as your hands cupped each side of his strained neck. your puffy lips were nearly raw and tingly from rafe’s constant suckling and nipping at your mouth. rafe’s hand kept a light grip on your throat as he kept you engrossed in the slippery kiss, tongues dancing together wildly as rafe fucked your mouth with his.
pushing out a sleepy whine, you said your delicate hand to rafe’s collarbone, gently pushing, “rafey — m’lips hurt,” your words were jumbled as rafe groaned into your mouth, his lips continuing their relentless assault.
your sloppy little makeout sessions with rafe were a common find when it came to spending a day with him, and you didn’t see anything wrong with it — i mean, he was your best friend forever, he would never steer you in the wrong direction.
shutting you up with a slip of his tongue inside of your mouth, rafe’s hand sliding to cup your cheek as you are quick to wraps your swollen lips around his slippery tongue, gently suckling the pink muscle. you continued sucking on his tongue for a few more minutes, your mixed spit shining on the corners of your mouths and messily smeared on your chins from wet lips.
sliding a calloused, ring-clad hand to cup your soft ass underneath the silk of your shorts, rafe patted two light slaps to your skin, earning a needy moan from you as your wrapped your slick lips around his tongue once more, in a sealing kiss, “sorry — y’taste good,” you mumbled, your sore lips pulled into a sorry little pout as rafe nods knowingly, gently pulling your head to lean against his chest.
rafe never missed the way you gazed up at him, your doll eyes sparkling with adoration and respect — you never judged him, and he appreciated that.
“s’okay, kid.” he responded, mushing your cherub cheeks as your lips remain in a silly smile.
you really had the bestest friend in the whole world!
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miniimight · 7 months
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❝ CAN YOU STOP PUTTING EVERYTHING ON THE TOP SHELVES?! ❞ you finally talk to him after a little argument ( height difference )
with deku, bakugou, rody
IZUKU
he tried to look nonchalant as he responded with a questioning hum. yeah, he was putting stuff on the top shelves. "hmm, what?"
you crossed your arms and glared at him. "you heard me."
he turned to you with the picture of innocence plastered on his face. "i don't know what you mean, i just put things where i put them. it just happens that they're high up."
you raised an accusatory eyebrow.
"for you, anyway." he mumbled, turning back to make his sandwich.
"exactly!" you exclaimed. "for me! you know i can't reach things up there and you do it on purpose!" you found your face was hot as you explained it.
you knew exactly why—you both had gotten into a little fight and you weren't talking to him for a while. this was the first time you had spoken since the argument, and even though you were yelling at him, your voice was music to his ears.
a small smile spread on his face despite his efforts to feign innocence. "on purpose?"
"yes!"
he paused, walking towards you. his disregard for space led to you being crammed against the counter behind you. he leaned over you and asked, "what it is that you need, love?"
your cheeks heated and you cast your gaze to the floor. "the box up there..." you murmured. he stretched to reach it and you flattened your palms against his chest. "izuku! you're squishing me—!"
he chuckled and brought the box down to the counter before kissing your forehead. "i'm glad we're talking again."
BAKUGO
"what was that?" he asked you, a knowing smirk on his face.
you huffed, already on top the counter trying (and failing) to reach the stupid box you needed. "i said stop putting shit on the top shelves. you know i can't reach it."
he shrugged, turning his attention back to his phone. "i dunno what you're talkin' about, princess."
you glared and pointed to the box. "you don't even use it?!"
"aw, don't jump the gun on me now, babe. you know i like to switch things up a lil' bit." he grinned, taking so much joy in your visible frustration. he was just happy you were speaking with him again.
you rolled your eyes, electing to ignore him as you tried your best not to fall off the surface or pull the cabinet down with you.
bakugo eyed you carefully as he threw away the thought of you begging for his help, reluctantly decided your immediate safety was more important. "'kay, that's enough." he walked over, his hands on your hips steadying your wobbly movement. "you'll hurt yourself, y/n. come down."
"i want that stupid box..." you pouted.
he rolled his eyes, his arms now circling around you as he lifted you off the counter. you gasped and curled your legs towards your body, clutching his wrists.
"oh, relax, you know i won't drop ya." he grumbled and set you down next to him. he easily plucked the box from its high perch, handing it to you.
"happy now?" he pinched your cheek. "stubborn brat. could've broken a bone or somethin'."
RODY
"what, having trouble sweetheart?" he snickered.
your face heated and you huffed. "rody... just get it for me, please."
"hmmm..." he pretended he was thinking hard. "i think... no."
you looked at him incredulously. "no? you put it up there!"
"i so did not." he turned up his nose, though pino was smiling and nodding her head.
you narrowed your eyes at him. "you're sabotaging me into breaking your silent treatment."
"whaaaat?" he exaggerated confusion. he held his head and pointed at himself dumbly. "me?"
"you're impossible." you rolled your eyes, moving to climb onto the counter.
"in any case, my plan worked wonderfully," his signature smirk graced his lips as he laughed softly, leaning against the wall to survey your distress.
your fingers just about brushed the side of the box before pino crashed into it, sending it further back and completely out of your reach. you swiveled to glare at the little pink bird. "pino!"
she bashfully twirled in the air before happily fluttering away.
rody's laughter filled your ears and you groaned, resting your head against the shelf. you heard shuffling—when you looked up, rody and his stupid smug smirk was beside you, easily bringing the box down.
"now we both look stupid, yeah?" he pressed a fat kiss on your cheek and softened when you laughed brightly.
© miniimight ! thanks for reading <3
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queers-gambit · 6 months
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Tell Me Every Terrible Thing
[ part one of two ]
prompt: you embark on a secret but passionate affair with the Rogue Prince, and when his wife, Rhea Royce, passes away, he chooses you to wed next - a decision that angers his niece and changes history.
pairing: Daemon Targaryen x female!Hightower!reader only description given: red hair
fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon
word count: 5.6k+
note: what the fuck is this, Cherry? also two parts 'cause author gets carried away!
warnings: show spoilers, cursing, author has small bouts of feministic ideas, author also really likes the "little birds" storyline (let her live!), wonky brain is wonky, i think hurt and comfort, angst, very mild NSFW (brief female receiving oral), technically alternative timeline 'cause this goofy-ass author has an overactive imagination, #icanmakehimworse, another reader-episode-insert (this warning is for the fucking losers in my inbox).
part two: "Tell me every terrible thing you ever did, And Let Me Love You Anyway," - Edgar Allan Poe
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"How angry do you think he'll be with me?"
You offered your best friend, The Realm's Delight, Crowned Heir to the Iron Throne, Princess Rhaenyra, a unamused, stale look. Sarcastically, you replied, "Oh, come now, Nyrie, why would your father be angry? It couldn't be because you rejected every suitor His Grace put before you, or even how you abruptly ended the tour with two months remaining. What father would be angry after that?"
She groaned, "I know, I know, you don't have to be so right all the bloody time. I just... I couldn't do it anymore, you saw what it was like," her head bowed and you knew the girl was truly overwhelmed by her 'job' picking a suitor.
"This was no easy feat to arrange, Princess," you spoke diplomatically, aware of the ship's crew dotting around the royal ship. "Our fathers went through much difficulty to ensure this tour's success, Princess, and I'd imagine neither will be thrilled by our early arrival."
"But it's just - "
"I know," you soothed with a knowing, sympathetic smile. Your arm extended around her, her head dropping to your shoulder for comfort. "In an ideal world, women would have a real say in their futures. Perhaps, that is what you're meant to do, Nyrie... Perhaps you're meant to break this wheel, give the other half of humanity a fighting chance against the men who have long suppressed us. Being heir is a monumental stereotype to shatter, but most women are not born into royalty and have nobody protecting or defending them."
She picked her head up to stare at you for a single moment, then nodded slowly, "That's a lot of pressure."
"Less if you pick a respectable man to help you lead," you advised softly, reaching to caress her cheek briefly. "You're to be Queen, Nyra, which means you need a King Consort that the common folk will respect, who will play his part in the courts to come. I know it's not ideal, my friend, but it's not meant to be - it's meant to be strategic." You paused, adding, "Similar to Ali marrying your father, yes? That was a strategic move on my father's end. Now it's up to you to chose your own match, to plot your own strategy."
"Who would you see me marry?"
"In truth? I'm unsure if anyone would fit the bill perfectly, so, I don't know who I could see you with. Definitely someone smart, though."
She only hummed, sighing deeply and making you frown. Before another word could be said, there came a distant screech that sounded all too familiar - though you refused to let it show that you knew this particular dragon's sound.
Nyra moved away from the ship's railing to stare longingly up into the sky, and about a minute later, without visible sight of any threat, Ser Criston Cole was shouting, "Take cover!"
And then, like a bird swooping to snatch a fish, a crimson dragon descended from the cover of clouds - seemingly materializing from nowhere. The large, long, slithery beast with wings knocked into the ship's main mast; jolting everyone on board enough to topple over.
You tried to stabilize the Princess, but you lost balance and dropped to your knees as Cole rushed to help Rhaenyra to her feet. When able, you looked to the sky; grinning to yourself as you recognized the retreating Blood Wyrm. Seeing the distinct form of Caraxes made you giddy with anticipation, however, that was short lived as you clocked Rhaenyra's gaze of awe and wonder.
It seems she was excited for her uncle's return, too. Though, it won't be till later that you learn the extent of her adoration.
Less than an hour later, the ship was docking and you escorted Princess Rhaenyra from aboard; her guards surrounding you both as you trekked to the Red Keep. "Just... Perhaps try to stay invisible," you advised your friend, arm-in-arm. "The King won't be pleased if you interrupt court, even just by being there. With luck, we won't be noticed."
She agreed softly, continuing on. She started fiddling with her necklace, the piece of Valyrian Steel jewelry that her uncle, Daemon, had gifted her years ago before Queen Aemma passed away. Your lover had told you the Princess was owed a piece of her Valyrian history, and since he could not gift a sword to a young lady, the necklace was chosen, crafted, and gifted.
When you returned to the Red Keep, it was just in time for court to be called to session and your friend was all too eager to join. "Nyra," you warned, hand in hers.
"It's all right," she assured, "come, it must be Daemon - "
"No, I should return to my chamber. Don't piss your father off too much," you warned her with a smirk, watching her grin in response, squeeze your hand, and then file into the Throne Room with the other members of court.
You retreated to your old room, sighing in relief when you discovered nothing was disturbed. "My Lady!" A voice gasped at the open door. You glanced over, smiling at Milah, your usual handmaiden, and opening your arms when she rushed forward. "You're not supposed to be back yet! Oh!" She tutted, looking you over. "I'll get your bed made and - "
"No, it's fine - "
"Nonsense, let me do this," she insisted, already busying around the room. "I was wondering why they were bringing things into the foyer - must be all the Princess' luggage, hmm?"
"Yeah," you sighed, helping her strip the bed and change the sheets. "It was strange," you admitted, "the men, I mean, and the way they all competed for her hand in marriage."
"Did you expect anything else?"
"I did not think they'd honestly kill one another. Though it was more so their pride than the Princess they fought over."
Milah smirked, "Sounds about right. Well, what of you? Anyone catch your eye?"
"Of course not," you sighed a little sadly.
"Still hung on the Prince, aren't you, my Lady?"
"Perhaps," you mused.
You spent the better part of an hour gossiping with Milah before she had to go grab a few things, but promised she'd send your belongings up as soon as possible. You thanked her, walked her out, assuring you were just going to get a bath or something, and just as you shut and locked your chamber door, gasped when a pair of hands seized your waist.
"Daemon!" You hissed when you saw the short, white locks of your surprise guest. "The bloody fuck is wrong with you?" You demanded, turning in his grip to shove your hands into his chest. "What're you doing here? Want to get us caught?"
"Three years," he grit, gathering you in his arms to heave upward and force your legs around his waist if you wanted to keep balance, "three fucking years I've been gone - away - missing you, do not deprive me a moment more."
"Someone will come looking," you whispered, caressing his face as your forehead met his. "And perhaps I want a moment to just look at you, 's been years," you breathed. "You cut your hair," you commented, running your hands through the short strands.
"I cut my hair," he agreed softly, just holding you close and tight.
"I like it... But I'll miss braiding it."
"I will, too," he admitted. He nuzzled closer, inhaling your neck sharply, boldly licking a flat tongue up your pulse point to make you shudder lightly.
"Daemon," you whispered, pulling his head back so you could look in his eyes, beaming, "I missed you, too."
"Viserys is arranging a lunch for my return," he informed, turning so he could approach your newly-made four-poster bed; dropping you flat on your back with a grin. "Which roughly translates into only allotting a few minutes to make up for lost time."
"We will have time later - "
"I overheard Viserys saying he and Otto intend to take evening tea with you regarding the Princess' return from tour," he eased, reaching to spread your legs, bunching your skirts. "But I will call upon you tomorrow? Yes? Officially?"
"If you insist," you teased, letting him finally descend to smash his lips against yours. In truth, you were used to his empty promises of 'calling on you officially' because of his marriage to Lady Royce, but it was his way of telling you without words that he wished it was you instead of Rhea.
Daemon groaned, melting into your form; breathing heavily. "I've missed you past words," he whispered, nuzzling your nose with his. "But for now, I just need a taste - "
"We don't have time - "
"We'll be fast. Tell me, love," he nipped your pouting lips, soothing his tongue over the puckered skin, "have you taken another in my absence?"
"Of course not," you hissed in offense.
"Good," he nodded, kissing you sweetly.
"Need I ask?"
"There were no concubines," he mused, "though, they were offered, I did not accept. So, we'll be quick - faster than quick," he promised, pawing at your undergarments and exposing your dampening cunt to his sight. "I'll take my time with you later, but for now, I need this," he all but seethed before diving tongue-first into your core.
His spit mixed with your arousal, creating a slippery mess.
"Shit," you hissed, grabbing his shorter hair as his tongue flattened to lap at your entrance, dripping in your essence. One of his hands held your thighs apart for his access, the other releasing his cock from the pair of breeches he wore. Daemon groaned at the taste of you, lapping wildly like a man starved, and stroking his bare cock in rhythm with his ministrations.
It truly took no time at all once he found your clit and sucked mercilessly, the hand holding your thighs now extended up to paw roughly at your tits. Alternating his tongue around your sloppy cunt added to your heightening pleasure, swirling his tongue as he bobbed and shook his head - making an absolute mess, and causing your climax to shatter your mind and soul.
Your legs twitched, spine curled, stomach contracted as your arms quivered from the rush of adrenaline; hand slapped over your mouth to keep your moans to a minimum. You grabbed his hair so tightly, he groaned in mock pain; legs then contracting to a suffocating grip around his ears and head while Daemon met his own end, spending in his hand whilst milking you for all you had.
He panted with satisfaction when he pulled back, grinning at you in mischief when you released your hold on him. "Good fuckin' girl," he praised, standing to his feet only to slither over top of you. "Like not a day's gone by, huh?" He whispered, kissing you messily, smearing your cum on your tongue; grinding his bare cock into your recovering core to make you shudder. "Take a moment, then get ready," he whispered. "I expect to see you at the celebrations... Wear that dress I got you for your fifth-and-twentieth nameday," he smirked, adding, "if you'd so please, my darling."
You chuckled, "You magically learned manners during the war?"
"Perhaps," he mused, pecking your lips again.
"Hey, Daemon?"
"What is it, my sweet one?" He asked, seeing the sincerity in your eyes and hearing the seriousness in your voice - something in his heart jumping.
"Would you tell me about it all later? The war, I mean? Would you tell me what you've endured?"
"I do not think it's a tale befitting a lady's ears."
"Please? I wish to know..."
"Then I will tell you," he promised, "but only if you wear that dress."
Your eyes rolled in humor as Daemon stood. You watched him wipe his cum on a spare rag, tossing it away, and after one last kiss, was leaving out of the secret passageway's door. Taking another moment, you finally stood on weak legs and unlocked the main door, preparing how you could for your day before Milah returned.
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After arriving at the luncheon, you made a beeline for your father, greeting him happily before explaining your surprise reappearance. He filled you in on that day's court, explaining that Prince Daemon was back; and you felt almost guilty for the way your skin was still set ablaze from your lover's earlier visit.
For all Otto's faults, he was still your father, and you felt guilty for sneaking around with Daemon behind his back. Your father ushered you off to mingle, insisting he was only there for the King; and no, he wasn't hungry. So, you parted ways with a chaste peck to your forehead; the feeling of his scratchy beard lingering on your guilt-riddled flesh.
"Sister, what a surprise!" Alicent happily distracted by greeting you with a bright grin. You adjusted course to approach the Queen, King, and newly-returned Prince. "Oh, what a lovely dress you've chosen," she complimented with ease, reaching for your hand. "You always do have the best eye for clothes, I feel as if need you to live in my wardrobe, tell me what to wear everyday."
"Thank you, Your Grace, I'd be honored," You smiled at her, holding her hand, looking to the others. "My King," you curtsied to Viserys, glancing at Daemon and bowing your head respectfully, "my Prince, how nice to see you, again. Welcome home."
"Thank you, my Lady," he smirked. "Might I welcome you home as well? I hear you've been gone from the Capital."
You hummed with a nod, "I was on tour with the Princess, my Prince. I've only arrived home today, as well - though not by dragonback."
He eyed you up and down, offering, "I must agree with the Queen, my Lady, that is a lovely dress you've chosen."
You pet the black material, smiling genuinely, "Thank you, my Prince. It's one of my favorites."
"I can see why, given how beautiful you look," he flirted, and from behind you and Alicent, you could hear your father scoff.
"Thank you," you whispered. "What conversation did I rudely interrupt before?"
"Oh, nothing of importance," Daemon told you, looking to his brother and your sister.
"Because we spoke of how Daemon, here, was always Mother's favorite," Viserys grinned. "Do you want to know, my Lady? About how much Mother adored Daemon?" He asked you, his little brother trying to drone over him - but Viserys was determined to tell you the examples he could think of regarding his brother's favoritism.
You giggled from both Viserys' stories and Daemon's evident embarrassment.
However, almost awkwardly, on Alicent's other side, Princess Rhaenyra approached the group and stood amongst you. You knew the King must be unhappy with his daughter, but did not voice any opinion since you were not the source of disappointment at the moment. Instead, you listened to the King's complimenting words to his brother; thinking it was interesting that Daemon was so egotistical and yet, flushed under his brother's praise. Princess Rhaenyra waited until a natural lull to tell Daemon, "Congratulations on your victory."
It was awkward as Viserys just glared at her, Rhaenyra's expression falling short. Daemon covered smoothly, "Thank you, Princess."
Trying to save the tension, your sweet sister offered, "Perhaps Prince Daemon would care for a tour of the gallery? He hasn't yet seen the new tapestries gifted to you by Norvos and Qohor."
Viserys nodded and whispered, "Oh, oh," mockingly. He asked his brother, "Would you like to see the tapestries?" But by the end, he broke character and laughed with his brother; the latter who whom you knew spat on trivial things - such as tapestries and such. Through their laughter, Viserys proclaimed to his wife, "He has no interest in such things!"
"But thank you for the offer, sister," you smiled at her, trying to reassure her when her husband laughed in her face. "The tapestries are very beautiful, you've chosen a grand place to display them. I saw them on my way here."
"I'd like to see them," Rhaenyra jumped in, seemingly to Alicent's aid - something she'd not done in an age considering the tension between them. You just smiled politely, seeing the way Viserys dropped his grin when he looked at his daughter with distain while the rest of you looked away sheepishly.
"Then you should not deprive yourself."
Rhaenyra offered a pained, pursed smile, "I shall enjoy them alone."
You, Alicent, and Daemon all stared after Rhaenyra with varying degrees of pity as she walked away to sit solemnly by herself on a distant bench while Viserys went on about his and Daemon's youth; over Daemon being their mother's favorite. However, Alicent excused herself to follow the saddened Rhaenyra, perhaps to offer the Princess comfort in her father's anger. The King looked ready to protest, but instead just shook his head in disappointment.
Viserys turned you and Daemon away from the sight of the girls, showing off the Godswood in bloom; your father approaching you three stiffly. "Your Grace," he bowed to Viserys, then nodded in resepct, "my Prince. Daughter," he smiled, trying to instigate, "how was tour with Princess Rhaenyra?"
"Oh, as eventful as a Royal Tour can be," you smiled, deflecting, "though I must admit, while seemingly exciting at some parts, I'm sure it pales terribly in comparison to the Prince's adventures in the Stepstones." Viserys smirking broadly at your redirection. "I do wonder, what brought the war to an end? We've heard rumor, but surely the Prince might know for sure what brought the Triarchy down?"
"Surely," The King nodded, looking to Daemon expectedly.
The Rogue Prince smirked and readjusted his stance, deflecting, "Perhaps a conversation for later."
"Oh, come now, brother!"
"Your Grace," Otto interrupted, "I do apologize, but there are matters at hand that require your attention. The Tully's still - "
He sighed and waved your father off, "Yes, yes... Well," Viserys nodded, "I'll call upon you both later."
"Your Grace," you instantly curtsied.
"Your Grace," Daemon bowed right after. Viserys smiled and nodded back at you both, patted his brother's shoulder, turned, and when he walked away, Otto followed with a single look to you and Daemon.
"Daughter," he bid curtly - and you read between the lines. He really wanted to say, "Do not linger around the Prince."
When the King moved, his usual procession of advisors, guards, and entourage followed right after. You sighed as almost all of the Godswood cleared out, Daemon eyeing you as he readjusted his stance; subtly reaching out to pet your hand with his fingers.
"Daemon," you warned quietly.
"Nobody is watching us," he smirked. "You look beautiful, love. I'll have to buy you more dresses, you wear them so well."
"I cannot believe I will not see you tonight," you whispered with a pout.
"I will call on you tomorrow," he reminded.
You opened your mouth, but another voice answered. "Sister," Alicent called, you looking over and smiling innocently. You caught sight of Princess Rhaenyra glaring at her uncle, but didn't think much of it.
"I look forward to your tales from the Stepstones," you told him calmly, offering a curtesy.
He took your hand, pressing a soft kiss to the back, "I look forward to any time spect together, my Lady."
You hummed in contentment before stepping away, instantly taking Alicent's arm when close enough. "What was that about? Daemon looks so smitten!" She whispered with a growing grin.
"He was being polite," you whispered back, "and simply being Daemon - you know how he is. He's got three years of mischief to make up for."
"I see," she giggled. "He's quite handsome with the short hair, isn't he? It suits him well."
"I have to agree," you gossiped. "I can see why the ladies of court have missed him so."
Your younger sister giggled, smiling at you, offering, "I've missed you greatly. Come... I wish to hear of your time away."
"Oh, sister, please, I've only just returned."
"But... Wouldn't you tell me before the King?" She whispered.
You paused, then nodded, "Got me there, sister-dearest."
"We'll take tea together," she decided, leading you around the Keep until she saw a familiar face she knew. "Talya, my sister and I wish to take tea in the gardens, please. Privately, of course, so do not announce it," she directed the handmaiden. "We'll be in the gazebo in the rose gardens, bring tea, sandwiches, and my sister's always loved those peach crumbles?"
"I know the dessert," she nodded, smiling at you. "Can I interest you, Your Grace, in anything specific?"
"No, but bring enough for us both. Come, sister."
You three parted ways, Alicent leading you to the gardens as promised. She dismissed anyone in the area, even telling her guards to wait at the front hedges to give you ideal privacy while deeper in the roses at the gazebo. While sitting, you exchanged gossip about what happened while you were away, Alicent happy to catch you up because she was happy to finally have a friend, even if it were a sister, back in her corner.
You were happy, too.
While you loved Rhaenyra, the tension between her and Ali made you feel in the middle despite both parties assuring you "you weren't". Nyra was a good friend, your best, even! But it was something about your sister that was calming and assuring. She was trustworthy to a fault, but she was still your strongest pillar.
As Talya dressed your table with tea, lemon water, sandwiches, fruits, and other foods (including the peach crumbles), you giggled at Ali's retelling of whatever failed proposals occurred this past season you were away. When alone, at last, Ali turned to you in her padded chair and asked, "Tell me in truth, how was the tour? Why did you return early?"
"In truth, sister, vying men made the Princess uncomfortable. She did not need the two months more, she knew she was unhappy with the men so far presented to her."
Alicent sighed, "So, who does she intend to marry?"
"Yes," a new voice agreed, you both jumping in shock and looking up to see Viserys approaching with your father behind him. "Who does my daughter intend to wed, Lady Hightower?"
"Your Grace," you uttered, both you and Alicent standing in respect to bow your heads.
"Please, please," he permitted you both to sit, taking the lone chair across the table as your father remained standing. "I only wish for the unfiltered truth. I know what is said, I know what is reported, I know..." He sighed, "I know what my daughter might say, but please, Lady Hightower, what is the truth of it?"
"The truth, Your Grace, is that Rhaenyra was overwhelmed. Perhaps it was too long for her that she eventually, I'm not sure, shut down? She did not care towards the end which men was presented, she was overwhelmed with the options and pace at which everything moved."
"Kings and Princes before her have done the same, many Queens and Princesses embarking on their tours to find proper suitors," Otto reminded. "Why was this different, my Lady?"
"Because she is the first," you reminded. "Never before has a woman been named heir - she holds a different responsibility. Perhaps having everything thrown at her was too much, she has to filter through lesser men that would be King Consort. Nobody stood out, she became discouraged, and honestly, Your Grace?" You spoke earnestly, "I think it just made her sad. She did not want to disappoint you by choosing a man not worthy of being her King, so, she would rather face your anger in coming home early."
Alicent frowned but nodded to herself.
Otto adverted his eyes.
Viserys looked dejected, but sighed, "I see... Thank you for your words, my Lady, truly, you've always been a trustworthy advisor to the Queen, Princess, and I."
"It's the least I can do, Your Grace, since you and Queen Aemma - you - you were so kind to me when Mother passed. And Rhaenyra - to both Alicent and I - she was a true friend. I am in debt to you, Your Grace, and whatever I can do, be it just a simple different perspective, I am happy to provide."
"Well," he considered, "in the spirit of your unfiltered perspective, who would you see Rhaenyra marry?"
You blinked in shock, "Oh, Your Grace, I-I am not qualified to say."
"You serve as my Master of Whispers, do you not?" He smirked. "Speak, please."
You sighed deeply. With a small gulp, you blinked twice, then admitted, "I do not think my opinion matters, but... It would make sense to marry her to Ser Laenor Velaryon, would it not? He's a warrior who survived the Stepstones, is of Valyrian stock and blood, rides the dragon, Seasmoke. He's kind, brave, true, unmarried, heir to Driftmark. I think when it comes to filling the position of King Consort, Ser Laenor Velaryon would make a fine candidate."
Apparently, this was all Viserys needed to hear.
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You could not sleep that night. You could not explain why, but something foul was in the air and prevented you from drifting off. So, you chose to browse your private library, select a literary favorite, and stroll the deadened halls of the Red Keep; reading by flickering torch light.
Good thing you were up and out, because one of your Little Birds chirped at you from the shadows. You looked around to see nobody in the hall, but another chirp directed your attention to a darkened alcove. "Hmm, oh, Kaela," you hummed, approaching her slowly and bending at the waist. "What is it, child?"
"I came as fast as I could."
"What's wrong?"
"I've seen something - something you'll want to know," she glanced up and down the hall, "but not anyone else."
"Come," you whispered, pushing her further back into the dark and sheltering yourselves safely. Once knelt before her, you asked the child, "All right. What is it you have seen, little one?"
"Do not get angry, my Lady..."
"I promise I won't," you spoke softly, confused - you never got angry at your Little Birds... Why start now?
"I-I saw... I saw the Prince Daemon and... Princess Rhaenyra."
You nodded slowly, asking quietly, "Where?"
"In the city, in a pleasure house."
You blinked, "And what were they doing?"
"What grown-ups do."
"I see. They were coupling?"
She shrugged, "No, just kissing, but it stopped fast. He left her there."
"He left her there? In the pleasure house?"
The little girl nodded. "The Prince looked sad... When the Princess tried to kiss him again, he pulled away... Then he left."
"Where did he go? After?"
She blinked, frowning, "My brother, Grenn, said he saw him at the pubs - but he was always on the move, very drunk. I came here right away."
"Good girl," you smiled, offering her whatever Gold Dragons from the pouch you usually kept on your person under your robe for times like this. "Where will you be tomorrow evening? I will bring you and Grenn supper."
She smiled, "We can meet you at the dock!"
"The dock?"
"He likes watching the boats."
"The docks, then. By the Fisherman's Pier?"
"No, Grenn like the Harper's Pier. They're not there around supper, they're still out at sea."
"Harper's Pier for supper," you agreed. "Go on."
The little girl looked around before scampering off down a different passageway and you stood from your knelt position with a stony look of tentative contemplation on your face. With a deep breath, you did the only thing you thought you could... You went to your father.
With a rapid knock at his chamber door, it took a moment or two before he was opening it - still dressed. "What is it, daughter?" He asked gruffly. "It's late, this should wait till morning."
"The castle is about to wake - "
"I know and I've much to attend to - "
"Father," you hissed, glancing up the hall.
He sighed and let you in, "What is it?"
"I carry scandalous news," you muttered, his door's lock echoing around you. "About the Princess Rhaenyra."
He turned to you sharply, you taking a step back in surprise. "You... Know?"
"About her sneaking around in a pleasure house?"
Otto frowned, "Do you know with who?"
You could not tell him, so you answered, "No, just that she was seen in disguise."
"Who told you this?"
"One of my Birdies."
"All right," he decided, nodding to himself, "thank you, daughter, for reporting this. I will... I will figure out what to say to the King."
"Should you say anything?"
"I'll figure it out - but now we both know."
You nodded, "So you knew before I came?"
"I was awoken an hour ago to hear this news."
You nodded slowly, "Then I will leave you to it."
"Thank you," he whispered, letting you peck his cheek in parting before slipping out of his chambers. With nothing left to do or anything else to say, you went back to your chambers as to limit your exposure to the castle's tenants.
The less that could say they saw you this night, the better.
Once safe in your chambers with a locked main door, you could do nothing else but (over)think, wishing to all the Seven Gods you didn't know what you knew. Information and knowledge was vital to maintain power, this is true, but it also made you dangerous - also a target. The more you knew, the bigger the target.
It was only a few hours after dawn when the secret passage doors to your chamber opened. You were braiding your hair, ignoring the man you knew to have the only balls to use that door - especially now.
"I've always wondered, if we had children, would they have white hair or waves of fire, like you? Perhaps something between?"
"Fuck off, Daemon."
"So, you've heard," he sighed deeply. "Won't you even look at me?"
"I can't stand the very thought of you right now, nor the actual sound, I'll lose my stomach if I have to look at you."
"Let me tell you the truth," he begged, "before I have to leave the Keep, let me tell you the truth. Let Viserys and everyone have their ideas and opinions, their lies and slander, but let me tell you!"
"Excuse me?" You asked, whirling around in your seat to glare at him fully. "Viserys banished you, again?"
"He did... Back to the Vale."
You scoffed, "Good... Your Lady wife awaits you."
"Viserys thinks I've sullied Rhaenyra's virtue. I do not need you thinking the same, so, please, let me tell you what happened - no matter how uncomfortable, please, let me tell you the truth."
"What difference does it make?"
"I can't have you thinking something more occurred. Was I tempted? Yes, but I refrained. Did I touch her? A little - but not how you think."
You sighed, shaking your head, "I don't care, you're returning to your wife in the Vale, and I will be rid of you. No matter for how long this time, you will be gone - "
"For a time, yes, but I intend to return for you."
"No, I think I'll let Father make me a match. I despised the North, it was too cold, so the handsome Cregan Stark is out. I don't mind Dorne, perhaps a Martel to marry? Or even a Tully of Riverrun?"
"Do not speak such atrocities to me."
"You're one to talk! Your niece, Daemon? The girl I consider my closest friend? You couldn't just find that whore you like and be satisfied with her? Couldn't wait a single day, could you? Huh? How fucking pathetic!"
"Perhaps you are not as close with Rhaenyra as you thought," he tisked, making you feel disarmed. He spent the next hour and a half explaining to you what happened the previous night, and despite your disgust, you just listened.
Knowledge was power.
"I will return," he sighed at the end, "and in that time, you can make your own decisions if you want me or not. But I will return and I will have you, if you will have me, and this foolishness will be behind us."
"I'll give you a single year. I will not wait for you longer than that," you whispered, tears streaming down your face. "I can't stand that you've done this, but I will wait one single year for you to find a way out of your marriage and back to me. Any longer than that, and I will simply move on. I do not want to live my whole life in the Red Keep, and the truth of it is, I cannot live in the Princess' shadow any longer. One year, Daemon."
"One year," he nodded, stepping closer. "My love, please - "
"Do not assume to touch me. Not after you've touched her," you snapped, stepping away. "Get out, I need to be alone, you have been banished - you need to go, you cannot be seen here." Your eyes rolled, muttering, "Probably have to go collect your whore for this banishment, too."
"Not this time," he smirked, "this time, I leave with my promise that I will return for you, my sweet Lady Hightower."
"Fuck off, you perverted Prince Daemon," you sassed, watching him slip out the door; shutting you in an echoing silence. Your heart ripped itself apart, making you wonder what the fuck you had done to deserve getting caught in such a scandalous affair. But you knew, in your heart, you'd do anything for Daemon - the thought sickening your stomach as you pondered how far this would all go.
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requesting rules and masterlist
HOTD masterlist
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beenbaanbuun · 29 days
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country boy w/ mingi
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thinking thoughts about country boy mingi who talks to you in a southern drawl as he leans his upper body on the bonnet of his truck. he’s so shameless with the way he looks you up and down, and you really don’t mind at all. in fact, you almost wish you could swap places with that stupid toothpick he keeps dangling from his pretty lips.
“don’t you think you ought to be getting home, doll?” he croons at you as you push yourself up to sit on the hood. the way your thighs spread against the red metal makes him salivate, but he’s a strong man. he can control himself, “i don’t think your daddy is my biggest fan; he wouldn’t appreciate you hanging around someone like me after sunset.”
as much as you hate to admit it, mingi is right; something about the farm boy from the neighbouring ranch just didn’t sit right with your daddy. maybe it’s his cocky way of speaking, or the rumours that get passed around town by all the pretty buckle bunnies who had their turn with him. the cowboy had built quite a reputation for himself, over the years. he likes to fuck and chuck; he’d rarely beds the same girl twice, and never more than three times. those brief encounters seem to be enough for most of the women you come across in the local bars—they do nothing but rave about how nonchalant and uncaring the cowboy is in bed. apparently, the way he fucks them hard and rough makes him all the more attractive.
yet he was never anything but soft with you. soft smiles, soft words, soft touches. just soft. if only your daddy could see the way he grins at you as he pulls the hat from his head and settles it atop yours, or the way his lithe fingers tighten the string around your chin to secure the hat in place. the deep chuckle that leaves him as the brim falls over your eyes goes straight to your chest, your heart beating unhealthily quick.
“my daddy doesn’t control me,” you push the brim up so you can see his pretty face. his skin is gorgeously tan from all those hours he spends in the field with his boss’s horses. you often watch him from your window, sketchbook in hand as you messily draw him over and over. he doesn’t look quite as good in graphite as he does through the glass of your bedroom window. seeing him like this, so close that you could touch him, is even better, “and i’m not ready to go home yet. besides, didn’t you promise me a ride on mr campbell’s prize pony?
he smiles and it shines brighter than the sun that’s taking its time in sinking below the horizon. his laugh puts the sound of morning birds to shame. his skin is smoother than your daddy’s whiskey, and his eyes sharper than his switchblade. nothing compares to him, you figure as you gaze into his deep hazelnut eyes; you could watch him and never hunger for anything else. you’d be sustained for life.
“sure i did, doll,” he takes the toothpick out and flicks it to the ground. you watch as it lands in the dirt by his dusty leather boots before letting your eyes drag themselves back up his body to reach his eyes. every part of him is just as pretty as the next and you find that the more you stare, the more you want to have him, “but it’s getting to be dark soon, and like i said, your daddy doesn’t approve of me. i’m not quite good enough for his little princess, am i?”
“i think you’re good enough for me,” you blurt out, heat immediately rising to your face as you take in what you’ve just said. humiliating yourself in front of the man you’ve been dreaming about for years is never good, especially not when you see the man almost every day. you look to the floor, cursing yourself as you hear mingi hum in amusement. it’s not for long, though. he catches your chin on one long finger, drawing your eyes back up to his.
“i’m sure you do, doll,” his voice is teasing, as is his lopsided grin. it sends a shiver down your spine as he taunts you, “precious little thing, thinking i don’t see the way you stare at me from your window. i see the hearts in your eyes, y’know. the way they turn green whenever you see me with one of those towny girls. it's cute; you’re cute.”
a huge hand comes to rest on your exposed thigh. you freeze in place, eyes on his, heart in your mouth. then his other hand meets with your other thigh and without any resistance from you, he parts them just enough to shuffle his body between them. you swallow down the knot in your throat as he invades your personal space.
“part of me wants to agree with your daddy; you’re too good for me, doll. you deserve someone better,” his face is too close to yours. you’re holding your breath as if you might blow him away if you were to exhale. his own fans across your face, the scent of mint and menthol filling your senses. suddenly, it’s your favourite smell in the world, “but then again, i tend to be possessive over things i consider to be mine… and i don’t think i could bear it if i were to see my doll hanging off another man’s arm, hm?”
he whispers that last bit, the slow drawl of his accent echoing through your brain, turning your thoughts to mush. you’re sure he can see the effect he’s having on you; the shallow rise and fall of your chest, your swollen lip from where your teeth continuously tug against it, your glazed-over, thoughtless eyes. you’re also sure that it’s only serving to encourage him.
still, even if mingi currently has your legs in a gelatinous state and your heart ticking like a time bomb, your daddy didn’t raise a pushover. a princess, yes, but never a pushover. one of your (extremely shaky) hands finds its way to his chest, pushing at the linen-clad muscles ever-so-gently until he stumbles just a few inches back. despite your eyes not being able to find his face, you know you can do this.
“well, what about you?” your voice is feeble. you clear your throat in the hopes of making it stronger, “you think i like watching you flirt with other women? to hear all those nasty stories about what goes down in the bed of your truck?” the more you talk, the more your courage builds. you look him in the eye, only to see he’s still smirking. that beautiful, infuriating smirk, “you’re not the only possessive one, mingi. if i’m yours, you’re mine—”
the next few seconds happen in a flash, but you can pick out three key events. first, he bullies his way between your thighs again, pushing them wide and pulling you close until his pelvis is flush against yours. then, with a determined hand, he rips the hat away from your head, slamming it down onto the hood of his truck and making you jump. there’s almost no time between that and the final event, though, as before you can say a single thing more, a pair of determined lips find your own.
they’re hot as they trap you in a kiss, moving quickly and sloppily against your own. he’s quick to take charge, fingers pressing deep into the flesh of your thighs as he moves his lips against yours. it’s like he’s been waiting for this for years, and now that he’s finally got it, he’s not willing to let it go. desperate, and hard and fast, it makes your head spin in the most delicious way. so much so, in fact, that you can’t help but wrap your arms around his neck to act as some sort of stability as you melt into his touch.
he pulls away for mere seconds, just enough for you to catch your breath, before diving in for more. this time, he leads with his tongue, bullying his way into your mouth as soon as his lips are on yours again. there’s no fight for dominance, the both of you already knowing that he’s the one in charge of this whole ordeal. you just let yourself sink into it, enjoying every second of him devouring your mouth.
all you can hear is moans mixed with the sound of lips smacking against lips. you can’t tell where your moans finish and his start, but perhaps it just goes to show how in sync the two of you really are.
he finally pulls away again, for good this time, and a heavy sigh falls from his lips, “i’ve always been yours, doll,” his wet lips meet your neck, and you tip your head back as a moan tumbles from your parted lips, “from the moment i met you, i was yours.”
“what about—”
“gossip spreads in a small town like this,” he cuts you off, “not everything you hear is true. you have a one-night stand to get over a girl once and suddenly you’ve slept your way through the whole town. honestly, i’m kind of glad the story focuses on how good i am in bed and not on the way i cried about you after i came…”
you can’t stifle the giggle that bubbles from your throat as he nuzzles against your neck.
“you cried about me?” you laugh.
“multiple times, doll,” he confirms, “what can i say, i’m a softie at heart.”
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saekkas · 11 months
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𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐑 𝐌𝐄 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄
summary: in which you need to wrestle your boyfriend, michael kaiser, out of his bed to fulfil a promise- re dye his hair.
notes: it's meant to be a continuation of this fic but you can read it as a standalone too! 2.1k words for my favorite german pomeranian <3
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germany is beautiful. in all seasons and weather, even with rain and snow pelting down the windows. the bread and sausages make amazing breakfast items, the beer is pleasantly warm, and the sight of castles and palaces all around the country make you feel like a princess. your favorite though, is when spring comes around.
spring blows away the last dregs of winter. there are puddles from melted snow all over the station, sweaters are still needed because of the chilly air, and christmas decorations still litter around town square, ready to be replaced by the eggs of easter. it's when mother nature reappears, pushing winter away for another half year.
coincidentally, it's michael kaiser's least favorite time of the year.
"you don't love me anymore, do you?" he dramatically sobs into your neck, his hands holding onto your body for dear life. "you're moving away to break up with me, aren't you?"
his duvets feel like clouds. made out of the softest material, you find it hard to haul yourself out of the room every day. his sheets are made of silk, a beautiful rose gold in hue, and his bed is enormous, framed by mahogany wood on all sides. kaiser's bedroom is heaven on earth, and you've got your personal angel lying in the middle of it all.
"you've finally found someone better, haven't you?" he asks once more, his eyes peeking from your chest. his hair is a mess, the blue streaks already fading out to match the rest of his hair, there are dark circles surrounding his eyes, and he's got patches of drool in the corner of his lips. but you don't think he's ever looked more ethereal than this.
"who is it?" there's a pout on his lips, his eyes still drowsy from sleep. you watch with a smile of your own, taking in his fluttering eyelashes, your faces close enough to count every last one. "is it a guy from china that you met in hawaii? is he prettier than me? richer? is that why you're leaving me for him?"
"what are you even talking about, silly?" even when you roll your eyes, the smile stays, and you look at him with every bit of fondness in your body. "you're the only pretty boy for me. you know that."
his lips stretch out into a dopey smile, an uncontained giggle spilling from his lips. there's a certain giddiness in his motions, as if he couldn't contain his feelings inside his body. you watch with amusement as he kicks his feet, accidentally pushing pillows out of the bed.
"mhm. i know. just wanted to hear you say it," he hums, going back to nuzzling your tummy. he mumbles incoherently against your shirt before yanking the fabric up, burrowing his face onto your bare skin. "love you, pretty."
"were you out drinking last night?" you shake your head, squealing when he blows against your bare skin. "i thought i could trust ness to keep you out of trouble."
"i wasn't drinking." he's back to his whiny state, both of his hands tightening on your waist. there's a glare this time, his lips twisting back into a pout. "you shouldn't trust ness. trust me instead."
sunlight bleeds into the room, soft and serene as they bypass the curtains. a ray bounces off the mirror on kaiser's vanity, one he specifically added just for you, and makes its way to his face, bathing him in a dreamy glow. the reflection of light turns his eye into an icy blue, stealing your breath. he looks divine.
you take him in, as much as he does you. there's a muted sound from traffic, and the chatter of birds but in the moment, nothing else matters except you and him. his frown deepens after a moment of silence and you chuckle, relenting as you thread your hands into his hair.
"love you too, baby."
if there's anything you've learned from dating him through years, it's that your boyfriend absolutely loathes it when you fail to respond to his declarations of love. another thing, is that he becomes clingier and far more possessive when spring comes, dreading every moment he has to be away from you for matches.
it's seen in the way he's holding your body tighter, preventing you from moving an inch off the bed. he's pouty, lips twisted downward because it's the last day he has you to himself before he's called back to the field. it's on days like this that you smother him until he can't shake away the ghost of your lips around his body, even in the middle of a match.
"gonna let me move anytime soon?" the hand on his head moves to glide down his neck, stroking the sensitive skin around the back of his ear. you watch as he moans, his eyes snapping shut at the touch. "mein kaiser?"
"wenn du so weitermachst." his voice is low, his heart beating faster as he moves from his previous position to hover above you with half lidded eyes. "du wirst dich überhaupt nicht bewegen können, liebling."
translation: if you continue to be like this, you won't be able to move at all, darling.
you suppose there's a reason he's down on earth rather than above. michael kaiser may have the looks of an angel but he acts like the devil.
he's looking down at you with a dangerous glint in his eyes, as if ready to eat you alive. you gulp, eyes roaming down the expanse of his chest before they land on the necklace dangling by his neck. the ring it holds is 24 carats, gold, with roman numerals of your anniversary date engraved on the inside. it matches with the diamond encrusted promise ring on your finger, gleaming in the shade of his eyes.
you tug the necklace, pulling him until you're nose-to-nose. you shiver at the way his eyes darken even more, his lips quirking into a smirk. "who knew you were so naughty, liebling," he hums, pushing your knees apart to slot himself between your legs. "who taught you, hm?"
"you did," you say before lifting the ring to your lips, kissing it with a small smile. he shudders at the intimacy of the action. "you also taught me not to break my promises, right?"
kaiser raises an eyebrow at the direction you're taking this. he's got you on the bed, flushed, under him. to him, the only promise worth thinking about right now is the promise of intimacy and pleasure.
"i promised to dye your hair, remember?" you lean forward, this time pressing a kiss onto your beloved. "you can do whatever you want to me after we're done."
he groans, letting himself drop on your body. he giggles when you groan at his weight, his face flushing at your words. "whatever i want. that's a promise too, right?" the whisper of his voice against your ear is delightful, and you nod where you're pressed against his shoulder. "i hope you intend to keep that one too, liebling~"
he waits for a moment, savoring your warmth until you start to squirm. laughing, he hovers over you once more to press a kiss on your forehead before scooting over to make room for you to move. "gonna let me use your mask?" he grins widely when you nod, rushing over to the bathroom.
but not before stripping off his night tee and chucking it straight at your head, laughing like a mad man when you throw his beloved stuffed panda at his back in retaliation.
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your boyfriend has always been restless. he's never shown much patience, and you should've known that re-dyeing his hair was going to be a hassle. "hold still, mikka." your tone is scolding but not stern, your eyebrows furrowed in concentration to make sure the dye doesn't spill. "i need to make sure you look pretty."
he stops squirming at the nickname, a mischievous smile spreading on his lips as he places a hand on your hip. "you should call me mikka more often, it's cute." he looks up from his position, seated on a chair and facing your front, and wiggles his eyebrows at you. "not only when you want something."
"yeah?" you hum, distracted by the strands of his hair in your hand. you grasp at it with gloves, sectioning to thinner pieces before using a brush to smear the color in. it comes out decently and you grin in satisfaction before moving onto another strand. "glad you like it. it suits you."
kaiser stays unmoving, not even answering back like he's supposed to. concerned with the sudden silence, you look down only to be greeted by a blinding his smile. you quirk an eyebrow, smiling at him in question. "what?"
"you're so cute." he tries to shake his head, stopping when you send him a glare. the hand on your hip squeezes at the fat in affection, his eyes shining even against the brightly lit bathroom. "ich liebe dich, liebling."
"very romantic of you," you say with a roll of your eyes. you store away the bowl of blue hair dye in your hand, leaning down to press a kiss. you feel him hum against your lips, his smile widening from the kiss as he pulls you closer. "i love you too, mikka. even when you won't sit still."
"are you done yet?" he asks with wide eyes, the sight of his puppy eyes looking at you from below sending butterflies to your stomach. "can i look?"
"mhm. go ahead." you step back, making room for him to face the mirror. you watch over his shoulder as he examines his newly re dyed hair, the blue strands at the bottom a contrast to his pale blond. you were getting used to the full head of blond, getting used to having mikka all to yourself. now you've got to share him with the world again as michael kaiser makes his comeback on the field.
"you like it?"
"i love it and i love you."
"maybe we should try another color next time. like purple or pink," you say before giggling at the way his face lights up at the suggestion. you eye him in curiosity when he turns to look at you with a proud grin.
he moves quicker than you expect, grabbing your waist and setting you on the bathroom vanity. he pushes you against the mirror, planting a searing kiss on your lips. you feel him smirk against your lips as his hands move to trail down your waist, settling on your thighs.
"there. a thank you kiss for my little genius," he says, breathless from the exchange, a wicked gleam in his eyes that you're wary of. he leans his forehead against yours, pressing a kiss to your nose. "one 'i'm sorry' kiss too."
"what for-" you're about to question him but a sigh interrupts your words, one that comes from the feeling of wet hair dye trickling down your neck and clothes.
you glare as he presses another kiss in apology. "i'm sorry."
"no, you're not," you snort at the teasing smile on his face. "now i have to go bathe."
he perks up, "want me to join-"
"no."
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bonus:
"you really are pretty, mikka." glancing at the mirror from behind him, you watch with fascination as kaiser pushes a hello kitty hairband onto his head. it's yours, one you bought as a pair with his pink panther one. surprisingly, he likes this one more. "the prettiest."
you watch him nod to his own reflection, seemingly agreeing with your words. his newly dried hair bobs along with the motion, the strands fluffy and smooth. you'd run your hands through if you hadn't just spent the last half hour styling it.
"your prettiest-"
"-like a german pomeranian."
"...what?"
"nothing!" you laugh at the disgruntled expression he wears, shaking your head. hoping to appease him before the whining ensues, you hand him a small container filled with matcha facemask. his favorite to wear because it does wonders for his skin.
he looks at the thing as if it's offended his entire lineage. "you're seriously going to bribe me with this?" he pouts, crossing his hands against his chest.
such a big baby. your big baby, though.
"what's wrong? pomeranians are cute!"
"yeah but i'd be more of a husky," he grumbles as he pushes the pink panther hairband onto your head, clearing any hair away from your face. he uses a brush to smear the mask across, stopping every so often to peck your lips. "they're handsome, strong, and expensive."
"high maintenance, too," you mumble under your breath before shrugging. "i just like pomeranians better," you grin, scrunching your nose when he finishes with a kiss on it.
"...fine. german pomeranian it is then."
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hai7ani · 2 months
Text
divorced parents au / with your faves
When your daughter turned two, you and your husband had brought her to Disneyland as her birthday gift. Growing up, Umi was always fond of the 12 Disney Princesses ー more specifically Princess Belle ー and she keeps a photograph of her and Belle at a meet and greet on her nightstand. Her father's half-expected her favourite to be Ariel, given that Ariel and Umi do go pretty well together. (Ariel and the sea.)
In Disneyland that summer your baby has had the time of her life, so she starts asking for it every birthday (which slowly turned into every milestone) and up until then you both have had no issues with bringing her there. He'd told you once that if going there makes her happy then he was willing to visit again, no matter the amount of times and the slight boringness he'd have to face when waiting in line to go on rides or booths.
Today she had learned how to properly draw a flying bird in art class after failing a few times and drew flying chickens instead. When you picked her up from school, the first thing she said after showing you her art proudly was, 'Let's go to Disneyland, Mama! Let's go with Daddy!'
You would bring her if you could. You know you would in a heartbeat.
But it has been two years since her last visit to Disneyland, and you and your husband aren't together anymore.
So when he comes over for dinner tonight ー just like he has been every Friday without miss ever since your divorce ー you show him Umi's drawing of the flying bird.
"Can I bring this back with me? I'd like to frame it up." He asks. In his head he plans to hang it on the wall of his living room, right on top of his television, next to your family portrait.
You eat a piece of the orange he'd peeled. "Of course."
/
At noon when your daughter asked, you told her no. So at night she is tugging on her father's shirt with a red face full of tears and she is begging for him to stay.
"Stay here, daddy. Don't go." She cries to him at the foyer. Only one side of his shoe is put on and he kicks it away quick when she attempts to climb into his arms.
"You'll see me again on Sunday, Mimi." He attempts to console her. "We're gonna go to the mall together 'n we'll find the toy you've been wanting."
Her father scoops her into his arms and sits on the floor. She kicks her feet in the air and wails.
"But I want to go to Disneyland with you and Mama." She sobs into his arms. He pecks her crown and shushes her a little.
When your chest gets too heavy you push yourself off the wall you've been leaning against and turn your back to them.
(You've been watching the duo since the moment her father was putting on his shoe, ready to leave, and your daughter came running after him in her pyjamas with wet tears already streaming down her cheeks.)
And Umi continues to cry while her father rocks her in his arms, trying his best to console her.
While walking away from the scene, you pick on the skin around your thumb. Your nose sours and you try pinching it in hopes of soothing it a little.
"Why d'ya wanna go to Disneyland?" You hear him ask before you disappear into the hallway. It's funny how he still asks even though you and him both know that going or not going to Disneyland was never the problem.
Umi sniffles. Her father hums for her to say it.
You hide behind the door of your bedroom.
"I want Mama, Daddy and Umi together again."
Just the three of us together in Umi's favourite place.
You cry.
/
"She's asleep now."
You pause from folding laundry at the couch and look up. He's got both hands in his pockets and a soft smile planted on his face.
He's also a mess, you notice ー his shirt a little stretched and out of place from how hard your daughter had been tugging on it earlier, the fabric wet from tear and snot stains, his hair a bit disheveled (you figure he was resting beside her when putting her to sleep), and he's moving to sit beside you on the couch now.
You smile back. "Thank you. I haven't been able to calm her down easily these days."
He picks up one of the garments from the pile and starts folding it beside you. "It's fine. You know I like doing it." I like being a dad, is what he wishes to say. But he knows you know it already and he holds his tongue.
Neither of you say a thing to each other after that and he continues helping you with the laundry. He folds your bra the way you prefer and your daughter's school uniform neatly so that it doesn't crease.
You steal a few glances at him without shame while stacking his sweatpants onto his pile of clothes.
"Your hair's getting long." You comment.
"Is it?" He raises his brows, genuinely wanting to know.
"Yeah." You reach a hand up to comb through his soft strands of hair. You push them back and try parting it on the middle.
"I've been busy." He's got a boxy, kind of nervous smile on his face when he explains. "Can't really see well through the mirror anyway." He rubs his nape.
You chuckle. "Want me to cut it for you?"
"Okay."
/
You still keep a room for your ex-husband even after the end of your marriage and he's given you the house.
You like telling yourselves it's solely for the sake of your daughter, for when she misses her father a little too much and refuses to let him leave.
But both of you know that's not really the case.
Somehow it didn't feel right when he was in the process of moving out to his new apartment somewhere in Meguro, and you slowly realise that you'd be having an empty room all to yourself.
(Back then you didn't think you could cope with living alone in the house you used to love each other in ー in the house you'd both created a life in.
You still don't now. Not really, anyway.)
So you transform the room that used to be his study into his own bedroom just right across the master (yours). He didn't reject the idea when you told him so.
And because of this, you leave your bedroom door open whenever he stays the night.
Tonight you do it again, and you watch him across the hall, in his room, drying off his freshly cut hair. Your head is resting on the edge of the bed with one hand tucked under your cheek and the other playing with a plush toy he'd gifted you many years ago.
When he turns to hang his towel on the wall he sees you like this. You don't shy away when he smirks.
"Goodnight." You mouth to him. You stay like that until he leaves his door open and finally gets in bed ー until he, too, shuffles around, and dangles his head off the edge of his own bed.
"Goodnight." He mouths it back to you.
You spend some time looking at each other like that ー really taking your realities in ー in rooms across each other with heads dangling off the edge of your beds, two hearts connected by the sea, and your daughter asleep in the room next to yours.
On most nights he comes over sometime during the night and helps you back on your pillow when you accidentally fall asleep like this, and every time, you'd unconsciously tug on his arm and beg him not to go.
He stays every single time.
Tonight, however, he pads over to your room while you're still awake with a pillow clutched in one hand.
"Hi." You scoot on the bed to make space for him as he throws his pillow next to yours and lays down beside you ー face to face, heart to heart. "Hey." He sighs upon getting comfortable on the bed he'd grown to find so much comfort in.
You bring the blanket up to cover his shoulders. He scoots closer to you, sneaks a hand under your shirt, and rubs a warm hand up and down your spine. (You always sleep better when he rubs your back like this.)
And while falling asleep you think to yourself that perhaps someday you'll get to try again as lovers.
You know for a fact that you'll always love him in your heart, and you'll never stop loving him even though it doesn't really make sense anymore ー just like how he'd sworn to never love again after your divorce.
Perhaps someday the both of you would be ready to move on ー still loving each other, but ready to move on from your past, from your love.
And perhaps someday the two of you wouldn't have to argue about money or time anymore. Perhaps someday he'll find a suitable work-life balance, and you're able to trust him enough to keep himself safe at work.
But for now, he's content with rubbing your back as you fall asleep next to him in the bed you'd once shared. You're content with the flowers he still buys you from time to time and cutting his hair whenever it grows out.
For now, you know that you're not ready to move on just yet. Both of you are not, and both of you have something else in mind...
You want to try again.
And you know that trying again will not be easy, but you both also know that you're willing to start all over again with everything you have if given the chance, the opportunity.
Maybe someday.
Maybe you'll give it more time.
(You feel a nudge on your elbow.)
Or...
"Wanna go to Disneyland tomorrow?"
(You smile.)
"Yes."
...Maybe tomorrow?
(He reddens all over.)
"Okay."
You'll see.
(just some characters i have in mind) TOKYO REVENGERS RAN, RINDOU, KAKUCHO, DRAKEN, NAOTO JUJUTSU KAISEN GOJO, NANAMI BLUE LOCK SAE, RIN HAIKYUU KITA, OSAMU & your faves
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(i have never been to disneyland before. 😹)
© HAI7ANI ON TUMBLR. DO NOT STEAL
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kingconia · 8 months
Text
SAVANACLAW WITH S/O, WHO IS SECRETLY ANIMAGUS.
[ Animagus — a magician, who can turn into an animal and back by their own will. ]
Leona Kingscholar.
— I actually headcanon that Leona has a strong Disney princess vibe, which means he is always surrounded by a lot of animals—and it is not about his classmates—so, when a stray cat starts following him around he doesn't see anything strange in that;
— Whenever he wakes up, there is always the same cat curled on his chest, a very pleasant weight on him almost reminding him of you, his lover;
— Leona's friendship with the cat starts when he offers it the peace of his meal that Ruggie brought. It licks his fingers and face after, and he introduces the cat as ”my partner in crime” to Ruggie affectionately;
— The cat hit him on the cheek with these little paws of it, when the headmaster is too close to the spot, where Leona sleeps carelessly, instead of being on lessons;
— Instantly, Leona wants you and the cat to meet each other. But when he tries to arrange the meeting in the botanical garden, something always goes wrong. He is so annoyed.
”Fucking fluffy brat!” Leona hisses, sniffling more intensely, trying to pick of the scent of the cat one more time. ”That is embarrassing, I swear.”
You smile as you lean on the tree with your shoulder. There is something especially funny about Leona, who searches for the cat desperately, with his tail swinging nervously. You don't even mask your laughter.
”I swear, this furball hates me,” Leona mutters. He is suddenly in front of you, with hands gripping your shoulders as he gently shoves you in the opposite side. ”Move, move. I think, she is somewhere here.”
“Su-ure,” you yawn with the fake sympathy.
”I am sure... It is somewhere... Here...”
You can't help but wonder how someone could be so smart and stupid at the same time...
Ruggie Bucchi.
— When a little bird sits down on his windowsill in the morning, Ruggie's first—and honest—reaction is to wonder if it is morally correct, to eat it alive;
— He stops thinking about that right after the bird throw a few branches in Leona's head, after he was especially mean to Ruggie;
— Since then, considers to befriend it. Brings some food for birds, and allows it to peck on his cheek;
— Allows it to travel on his shoulders, while he shows ”the bad guys, you should throw branches at, Birdie”, and complains the bird about everything and everyone during the day;
— Ruggie finds it unbelievably unfair how you, his lover, and Birdie, his best friend, are never in the same room.
”You hung up with Draconia boy too much,” Ruggie tells you, with the absolutely serious expression on his face, when you come to look at the empty cage again.
You blink, not really understanding where it is coming from.
”...What it has to do with you never being able to keep your bird to my arrival?” You mock, folding arms on your chest.
”His darkening aura annoys Leona, and it surely scares the Birdie away,” Ruggie hums.
You really can't help but burst out in laughter. Instantly, you throw a pillow in his head.
”Ouch, ouch!”
”And you should start hang out with Leona less,” you chid. ”Malleus is no at fault that you can't even train your pet.”
Though, of course, you are not his pet. And there is no way you are going to be train, even for a game.
”Yeah... You are right.”
But Ruggie doesn't need to know that. For now, at least.
Jack Howl.
— ???
— When a random rabbit starts following Jack around, he looks absolutely lost. Had this animal never heard that wolves eat their kind???
— ”Hey, come on... Go away, bunny... Go!” (Looks at it with the warmest eyes ever) ”Fine... The strong must protect the sweet one... But only because you are so small, and helpless!”
— He can't bring it to Savanaclaw, for the obvious reasons, so Jack makes a deal with Epel, to keep it in his dorms. Epel stress out, because the animal keeps appearing and disappearing on its own wish, though...
— Jack, somehow, justifies this strangeness with the fact that, of course, his Bun-Bun is not like other rabbits, huh! (He is so delusional...)
”Oh, Jack,” you mutter softly, scratching him behind the ear. ”Don't be sad. Surely, once I will be able to meet this rabbit of yours, too.”
Jack sighs, putting cheek on your shoulders, obviously disappointed that his two favourite creatures hadn't met yet. In moments like this, you are so close to tell him the truth... It is just impossible to see him sad...
”I know... But it happens so often. It is, as if you and Bun-Bun are the same person!” He blinks. ”Actually... You kinda act the same, you know?”
You pale visibly. How the fuck, from all of the in this school, Jack the only one who assumed the right answer, though, by the accident?!
”I... Jack...”
”Ha-ha,” the sudden loud laugh from the other end of the room startles both of you. ”Our dear Y/n, cette douce étoile, a bunny? Don't you think, a cat would fit them more?”
You sigh, waving Rook Hunt off, though, with a certain gratitude.
”Jack, you would notice, though, wouldn't you? You have extra senses.”
He nods reluctantly, but you can see doubt in his eyes. And when you turn around, Rook winks at you, knowingly.
You are in so much trouble...
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inkdrinkerworld · 9 months
Note
Logan would love when you sometimes mix it up and call him by James (which if I'm not mistaken is his real name) like something intimate about calling him by his true name
omg yes!!!
it’s early in the morning in when you’re feeling for him. he’s normally asleep beside you, snoring by your ear and his arms wrapped around you.
this morning he doesn’t and it’s weird.
you sit up, knuckling your eyes as you get out of bed- shoving your feet into your fluffy slippers.
logan had quarreled with you for not wearing them enough times. always going on about how ‘it’s cold in the morning, you’re gonna get sick.’
it’s silly really, you’re mutant, but you suppose his worrying comes from you not having his regeneration powers.
“lo?” you call, almost walking into the archway as you reach the living room.
“on the porch, princess.” he gruffs, not looking back as you come out and find him cutting fruit.
it’s that time of year where the couple trees in your backyard are bearing like crazy.
“did you sleep okay?” you ask him, wheedling your way into his lap making him smile.
“mhm, got up cos that damn bird came back. knocking on the glass.” you yawn and tuck your face into his neck.
“why’re you cutting fruit?” he feeds you a segment of the orange he’s peeling.
“cos you like them.” there’s a big basin between his legs full of orange segments, peaches and some berries.
the way he says it, easy, thoughtful, like it’s silly that he wouldn’t be cutting fruit because you like them- makes your heart stutter.
“james,” you whisper and he hums, his heart now stuttering. he’s sure his eyes go a bit glassy.
it isn’t often you call him by his name, his given name; but when you do, he feels like himself.
like the little boy that always got sick. he feels set apart from all the violence and the war he’s lived.
“what?” he asks, desperate not to have the emotion that’s clawing at his throat rest there.
“you’re the single most thoughtful yet enigmatic man to walk this earth.” you kiss him, transferring the sweet citrus of the orange to him.
“don’t go shouting that around- the thoughtful part.” he says against your lips playfully and you laugh.
“i wouldn’t dare,” your fingers glide through his hair before reaching down into the bowl and offering his a piece of peach.
“i love you,” he says softly. voice earnest and heart full.
“i love you too james,” he kisses you again and as you pull away you say, “should i bake a cobbler?” you spot the mini mountain of peaches by his side.
“oh yeah, i’ll just have to get lemons from the tree.”
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theemporium · 5 months
Note
maybe some more 🧸for Carlos and Butterfly and their second baby including Lando and toddler Esmerelda? Just wee innocence?
thank you for requesting!🫶🏽
.
“Esme, no running!” 
A series of giggles could be heard along with soft pattering of footsteps on the wooden floorboards. 
“Lando, also no running!” 
“Boo!” 
You pressed your lips together, trying to bite back the grin that wanted to spread across your face as you walked into the kitchen. It was barely ten in the morning and the house already felt lively with the happy sounds of a two year old Esmerelda being chased around by Lando, who had been visiting for a week over the holidays, and Carlos settled in the kitchen as he prepared everyone’s breakfast. 
Your heart warmed at the sight, knowing Carlos had probably been doing his best to keep the volume low so you would be able to lie in this morning. But you didn’t care. In fact, you would take a happy and lively house over some sleep any day of the week. It made you feel full and complete. 
“Ah, mi tigre, you want a strawberry? Hm? They are Mama’s strawberries but I am sure she won’t mind sharing with you,” Carlos cooed at the small baby in his arms, just over seven months old and already looking like a carbon copy of his father. 
Little Rafael Sainz garbled happily as his chubby fingers reached for the small strawberry chunk Carlos was holding out to him.
“I guess I can share my strawberries with a little guy as cute as him,” you commented casually, leaning against the doorframe. 
Carlos whirled around, his face instantly lighting up when he saw you. In an instant, he was walking across the kitchen so he could reach out for you with the arm that wasn’t currently coddling Rafael to his chest. 
“Mi mariposa,” Carlos hummed as he leaned down, pressing his lips against yours for a few seconds before pulling back. “Did we wake you up?” 
You smiled, shaking your head. “You should have woken me up, though. I could have helped with breakfast.”
“Papa doesn’t need help!” A voice suddenly exclaimed as Esmerelda came to a stop by your legs, looking up with a tooth grin. “Uncle Dodo is helping.”
“Still don’t know how I feel about being nicknamed after a dead bird,” Lando grumbled as he came up to stand behind Esmerelda, his hands on her shoulders as she snickered at him. 
“I think it’s cute,” you said to him with a soft smile.
“You’re too nice to say otherwise,” Lando snorted in response. 
“Yes, well, your Uncle Dodo could have done more to help me,” Carlos commented, flashing the Brit a look. 
Lando only grinned innocently in response. “I was doing my duties.”
Carlos raised his brows. “Which are?” 
“Babysitting my favourite godchildren,” Lando answered easily before he reached for the baby in Carlos’ arms, cooing as Rafael’s hands instantly stretched out to reach for his curls. “There’s my favourite little guy.”
Esmerelda rolled her eyes. 
“Aye, don’t be like that, mi oruga,” Carlos mused as he reached down, not even hesitating as he swiped his daughter into his arms and listened to her giggles echo through the kitchen. “Papa will always be here to lift you.”
She blinked up at him, her eyes holding all the adoration for her father. “What about when I get too big?” 
“Your father is very strong,” you said to her, pushing some curls behind her ear and lightly tickling her neck as she squirmed in Carlos’ arms. “He will always be able to carry you.” 
She smiled up at Carlos. “Really?”
“Really,” Lando answered for her. “Your dad can pick me up.”
Carlos sighed. “When will you stop bringing that up?”
“What, so Uncle Dodo can’t feel like a princess sometimes too?” Lando scoffed as little Rafael garbled happily in his arms like he understood the Brit. “Inequality in this household!”
.
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shebunie · 5 months
Text
𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭?
𝙈𝙞𝙯𝙪 𝙭 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧
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𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝗦𝘂𝗴𝗴𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺𝗲𝘀, 𝗸𝗶𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗳𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻, 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗳𝗼𝗿𝘁, 𝗿𝗲𝘂𝗻𝗶𝗼𝗻, 𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗹𝗶𝗲𝗱 𝘀𝗲𝘅𝘂𝗮𝗹 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁. 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟳𝟮𝟯 𝐀/𝐍: 𝗺𝗶𝘇𝘂 𝗯𝗿𝗮𝗶𝗻𝗿𝗼𝘁 𝗶𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗹, 𝘀𝗵𝗲'𝘀 𝗮 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁, 𝗮 𝗻𝗲𝗲𝗱, 𝗮 𝗻𝗲𝗰𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗶𝘁𝘆. 𝗜'𝗺 𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗺𝘆𝘀𝗲𝗹𝗳 𝗮𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗽𝗼𝗶𝗻𝘁. 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐
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"Dare you to step foot on my land after all these years," you declared, the crunch of snow beneath your boots accompanying your words. The bitter winter wind carried the scent of pine, and the distant roar of waterfalls mingled with the haunting chirps of hidden birds.
Without turning, you sensed the approach of a familiar silhouette. The gentle tinkling of jewels in your hair echoed as you sighed, your head tilting low, eyes closed. "I've been well, princess. Thank you for showing concern," they uttered, each step bringing them closer.
The air buzzed with unsaid words as the shadow finally stood beside you. The moonlight painted both your figures against the snowy landscape. You unfurled your eyes, meeting their gaze. "Must you look that intensely?" you hissed, turning slightly to hide the subtle redness of your cheeks, your stoic facade faltering.
The samurai hummed, raising a hand to take your chin gently, guiding your gaze to their recognizable tinted glasses. "If it means getting to see you like this, then I simply must," they said, calloused fingers caressing your face. The rough texture of their hand against your smooth skin made you shiver involuntarily.
With hesitation, you lifted your hand, fingers gliding along their arm, recalling memories of the past. "This should not—," you started, but with firmness, you stopped, eyes glossing in the moonlight. Clearing your throat, you continued in a soft tone, "It's been long. It's not right. Do not say you need me when you leave and leave again."
Memories, once buried, resurfaced, furrowing your brows. Taking a step closer, your painted lips pursed in thought. "You show up unannounced after leaving me to pursue revenge, and now you—"
"It was a vow that I have dedicated my life for—"
"Much so that you leave without a word to me?"
"You, of everyone, should know that revenge does not hesitate," the samurai fumed, voice firm, husky, and deep, sending shivers down your spine. With a heavy sigh, they took off their glasses, placing them on your nose with a glance to your lips.
"After killing those who have wronged me, I vowed anew," they said, their long, slender fingers intertwining with yours. Wiping away a tear that fell from your eyes, their touch swelled your heart. Tears streamed down your face as they spoke, "I promised to look for you the moment I stepped foot into Japan. Every mountain, every ocean, village by village, I took every chance to see you again."
The weight of their promise lifted a burden from your heart, and you wept. "Hey," they whispered, tenderly tilting your head to look at them. Leaning down, they placed gentle kisses along the tear stains on your cheek, then against your damp neck. You sighed, a small grin playing on their lips.
"Tell me," they said, brushing their nose against your jaw, "how does the princess want to finish this?" You tilted your head back against the tree, dazed, and replied, "In any way. Whatever you want." Gripping the fabric of their cloak, your body pressed against theirs.
Mizu hummed, leaning in once more, whispering, "That's not an answer. What do you want?" She grabbed your waist, hoisting you up and pinning you against the tree. Your legs tangled behind her to keep you upright.
Burying their face between your neck and shoulder, they licked on the exposed part of your chest, and you shuddered, soft whimpers escaping your lips. "How I dreamed of your legs wrapped around my waist," they said crassly. 
You squirmed in their hold, softly moaning, embarrassed at how easily you reacted. Your entire body was hot, and your face was on fire. They held you in place, their long, rough fingers gripping the supple skin of your thighs to keep you still and upright.
Her lips were soft, and you practically melted into her. She hummed, their blue eyes looking at the purple marks and the soft bite marks all over your neck. Slightly spreading your legs, they rolled their hips against yours.
"Staying quiet was never your strong suit, wasn't it?" she teased.
"Y-yes," you moaned, fingers tangling in her dark hair. You weren't going to argue with this opportunity. Connecting lips once more, her tongue forced its way into your mouth, and you surrendered to the passion of the moment.
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mariclerc · 2 months
Text
Family cuddles | pg10
Summary: Your little girl decides to interrupt the peace and quiet of the morning. Warning: None, just you and Pierre being sweethearts.
a/n: dedicated and requested by: @martaaairwin1994-blog
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Sunlight streams through the blinds, painting warm stripes across the bed where you and Pierre lie intertwined. The air is thick with the quiet contentment of a shared morning. Pierre, still half-asleep, mumbles something unintelligible against his girlfriend's neck.
“Mornin', sleepyhead.” you say with a smile.
Pierre stirs, his eyes fluttering open. He smiles at her, that easy, charming smile that makes her heart clench.
“Morning, beautiful. Sleep well?”
“Like a baby. You?”
“Like a king. Though, maybe a king with a tiny princess ruling over him.”
He gestures towards the doorway, where your almost! three-year-old daughter, Lucille, peeks in, her eyes sparkling with mischief. She's wearing mismatched socks and a giant T-shirt that swallows her whole, but her grin is infectious.
“Peek-a-boo papa!”
“Luci! Come here, you little monkey!” you said squealing.
Lucille squeals with delight and launches herself onto the bed, landing with a soft thud between her parents. Pierre scoops her up, showering her face with kisses.
“Good morning, sunshine! Did you sleep well?” Pierre asks her.
“Yes, Papa! I had a dream about bunnies and fluffy clouds.” She giggles.
“Sounds magical. What did the bunnies do?” you asked curiously.
“They flew on the clouds! And they sang a song about carrots.” She said shyly.
Pierre and his girlfriend exchange a fond look. Lucille's boundless imagination never fails to amuse them.
“Sounds like a pretty cool dream. Maybe we can draw a picture of it later?”
“Yes! And we can color the bunnies pink!” Luci says while clapping her hands.
“Pink bunnies, huh? Sounds perfect.” You say with a smile at your daughter's creativity.
Lucille nestles closer to her mother, her soft breaths tickling her skin. Her girlfriend smiles, wrapping an arm around her daughter's small frame. Pierre joins them, his hand finding hers, creating a warm circle of love. The morning sun paints the room in a golden glow, casting long shadows across the bed.
“I love you, Mama.” Lucille mumbles.
“I love you too, sweetheart. Always and forever.”
Lucille's breathing becomes even, the rhythmic rise and fall a soothing lullaby. Pierre watches them, his heart swelling with a love he never thought possible. He remembers the countless sleepless nights, the endless diaper changes, the moments of pure exhaustion. But looking at them now, bathed in the quiet contentment of morning, he wouldn't trade it for anything.
“You're incredible.” He says as he kisses your forehead.
“We're incredible together, don't you think?” You smile sleepily.
Their fingers intertwine, a silent promise of shared dreams and unwavering support. The silence is broken only by the soft chirping of birds outside the window and the gentle hum of the refrigerator downstairs. It's a simple moment, yet it holds the weight of a thousand unspoken words.
“Remember when we were young and carefree?” Pierre whispers.
“Barely remembers yesterday, let alone years ago!” you chuckled.
“I meant carefree in a good way. No responsibilities, just us.”
“And now we have the biggest responsibility of all, but the best kind.”
“You're right. Being her parents, watching her grow each day, it's the most rewarding thing in the world.”
They fall silent again, their thoughts turning to their future as a family. The little girl nestled between them is a constant reminder of the journey they've shared, the obstacles they've overcome, and the love that binds them together. The sun climbs higher, painting the room in a brighter light, signaling the start of a new day. But for now, they hold onto this precious moment, a stolen cuddle in the morning sun, a testament to the enduring power of love and family.
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chaewonshoney · 4 days
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𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ—berries and kisses - p.js
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₊˚⊹ pairing: bf!jay x gn!reader ⭒ warnings: tons of kissing, petnames, a lil suggestive in the ending, skinship. word count: 758 LIB! 。⋆˚ genre: fluff, drabble, est. relationship, domestic. songs to listen while reading: You(=I) by BOL4 a/n: this one pretty much sucks and wasn't supposed to end like this, but i think I got carried away, so anyways, enjoy <3 ToT
The sun is still rising over the horizon, allowing its warm light to peek through the curtains, casting a cozy aura over the space, you slowly open your eyes as the warm ray of lazy sunday sunrise welcomes your sleepy self. The smell of freshly cooked pancakes and warm maple syrup filled the room, filling your nose with happiness. Getting rid of the warm comforter, you walk towards the kitchen. Your soft footsteps break the warm silence, which was already broken by the birds' chirping. You peek at your boyfriend standing in the kitchen, gently flipping the fluffy pancakes. His hands are carefully crafting each one with care and precision, ensuring all of them turn out perfect. He notices your presence, tiptoeing behind him, your tiny hands curl around his torso, soft smile across his face as he turns to you, tucking his arms around your waist, "morning, honey. Slept well?" you hum in response. "Mhm, yup..."
You relax into his arms, enjoying the warm embrace. The smell of freshly cooked pancakes lingers, the subtle sweetness filling your senses. "...Smells perfect. Can I help?" He shakes his head with a soft peck on top of your head, placing you on the kitchen counter, "No, princess. I'm almost done." "Ooh, I get to sit here and admire the view of you? I'm all for it!" you say with a smile.
He chuckles softly at you, his hand drifting lightly over your hair. "I wouldn't have it any other way." He hums softly as the light hits him, the rising sun reflecting beautifully off his skin and into your eyes.
"Shouldn't these be about finished...?" you ask playfully, pointing to the pan of delicious smelling cakes. "You'll have to wait just a while longer, babe." He teases, smiling playfully as he flips the last remaining pancake in the pan. "Come on."
He lifts you off the counter with ease, then sets you on his hip, and starts walking to the table. Frowning jokingly, you speak up, "I'm not a human bagpack, Jay." "No? But I do need to transport you somehow..." he teases jokingly, his eyes laughing. He carries you to the dining table, placing you on a chair, he steals a few kisses, making you giggle. He then steps back, admiring your beauty, the sun playing off your skin. "Awfully cute for someone who wakes up so grumpy, babe." he teases fondly. "Just because I woke up on the wrong side of the bed, doesn't mean I'm grumpy!" you respond in protest, the corner of your mouth lifting up in a small smile regardless.
"Mhm, keep telling yourself that." he chuckles lightheartedly, walking over to the stove before grabbing a serving spoon. He proceeds to scoop out several pancakes onto your plate, the delicious smells tempting your nose. "I know you better than you know yourself," he chuckles, putting a fork full of pancakes in your mouth. "Mmm..." your eyes close in delight as you taste the delicious food. The warm and fluffy texture on your tongue makes your mouth water with joy.
He chuckles again, this time a bit smugly. "There, was that so hard?" He playfully pats your head after you chew. "Mm...nono! I- mmf!" you complain jokingly, his hands around your waist giving a squeeze, tickling you. Your laughter fills the room, his arms pulling you to him. "Awwh, someone's ticklish~" he chuckles amusedly. You squirm away from his hold, giggling playfully. "No, nooo, stop it!" He wraps his arms around you again in hopes of getting a few more kisses, holding you hostage in his arms, "Never! I need more kisses! You can't escape!" he chuckles back, teasing playfully as he leans into your face, wrapping his arm tighter around you. "Mmmm...I won't kiss you!" you giggle, the corners of your lips trying to lift up. "No?" he questions, raising an eyebrow. "Then I guess I have to make you." his hands move to your hips when you squirm, slowly pulling you closer to him, your words are cut off by the sensation of his warm lips on yours. The kisses start slow at first, his arms around you still, but his free hand joins in, moving your hair out of the way, allowing the kisses to deepen further. His hands move with more urgency, holding you tightly while he wraps his other arm around your waist, you moan softly as the sensations overwhelm you, his breath caressing your skin. The touches of his hands are intoxicating, and you find yourself wanting more.
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©chaewonshoney 2024, all rights reserved. Reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated<3
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writingoddess1125 · 6 months
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Hello! Could do Mihawk with an beloved who's like a Disney princess and attracts animal whenever she/they sing, but Mihawk is just confused standing there like "wtf? Why are there deer inside?? There's litterly no deer on his island????"
I love this!
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How and Why?
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When Mihawk had gotten with you he knew you were... odd-
The opposite of him in every way. While his hands were for killing and takinf away- yours was for life and charity. The embodiment of a Innocent Saint in his eyes- that he had in some wait tainted said innocence with his nature and desire for you.
It was hard for a killing machine like himself to gave to curve said nature when you came along. You promoting mercy, second chances and guidance for others.
While this tested his patients- it wasn't the main thing- no no
It was the animals-
It was the God damn animals that seemed to follow you everywhere!
You hum while outside- Bunnies suddently appear to shit on his lawn.
You whistle happily while gardening birds from all walks of life appear to once again shit on everything.
Goddess have mercy if you sing cause the animal kingdom appears randomly.
If he took you with him say out to a light mission or just for a vacation, suddently you'd have half the God damn forest trailing behind you and he would have to sneak a quick blade to snag a few rabbits without you noticing for a nice dinner. In fear you'd cry in knowing your abilties were being used for Mihawk to hunt dinner.
However..
Non of this mattered since he loved you, he loved you more then he had words to express and you loved him just as much- So he was willing to turn a blind eye to this all. Till the day he couldn't.
It was suppose to be a relaxed day- get some nice food, some drinks and just lounge about. Mihawk was excited for this, he had been working hard and wanted some down time.. especially with you- Stepping into the livingroom ready to shower you in attention he froze.
"What the actual hell?-" Mihawk said way louder then he ment to and seeing you turn around quickly. There in the livingroom you were on your knees petting a fully grown fucking deer that was leaning into your touch.
"Hi honey!"
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Mihawk is just standing there holding a wine glass in his open shirt and staring at you in what can only be described as total shock and you can practically see the vein in his forehead.
"(Y/N)' How the hell did you get a deer in the house- Wait deer at all there are non on the island?" He questioned as he downed the glass of wine like a shot and set it aside.
"I sang and she came here" You say with a shrug and continue to pet the wide eyed doe.
He huffed at this, rubbing his temple.
"I thought we agreed no animals in the house?.." He grumbled- Trying to mentally wrap his head around a doe in his livingroom.
"But she looked so cold and was by the front door Hawks! I couldnt just leave her there" You say poking out your bottom lip- Mihawk mentally sighs.
"That doesnt... No- No matter... saves me from going to the market for venison" He says calmly and reaches for his blade calmly.
Your eyes widening as you realize what he means and hug the deer close to you.
"No! Mihawk you cant kill her" You yell as tears well in your eyes.
"You have a fully grown Doe in our livingroom- no idea were she came from and a meat locker low on venison" He tried to reason by you sat there crying and Mihawk groaned-
"Then what is your plan with it hm?" He questioned. That was what lead him outside, carrying a squirming 120 pound doe to the stables he had long since forgotten about while you set down some old hay, cut apples and nuts for feed and he releases the kicking animal into its new space.
Mihawk sighed now looking at the once empty stables of the castle now housed a doe- A Sinking feeling that this stable was going to be getting fuller..
"You are lucky I love you-" He grumbled, Hearing you giggle and jump up to kiss his cheek.
"I love you too Mihawk. And I promise to make it up to you~" You say with a wink. Mihawk now remembering how and why he had forgiven all the times before.
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littlelioncub43 · 2 years
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Wake Up Call
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Summary: Mornings were absolutely divine, especially in the company of one sweetheart of a metalhead— Eddie Munson. Even if he wasnt much of a morning person. You show him just how good a morning can be when you're together.
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female!Reader
Warnings: Smut (18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI), fluff, blowjobs, oral sex (m receiving), morning sex, reader loves giving Eddie head, Eddie being a screamer, Eddie's morning voice, established relationship, face fucking, deep throating, crying during sex (not the reader), Eddie being a sweetheart, and a partidge in a pear tree.
Word count: I have no clue, babes, I wrote this on my phone 🥰
A/N: Holy shit. I am so self-conscious about this fic, you guys! I haven't posted a full length one-shot in so unbelievably long. I feel rusty. But! I'm posting it anyways! I still feel really good about this one. Anyway. Let me know what you think! Reblog, comment, send an ask, a carrier pigeon, a fax, a telegram, a kindly worded email— I would really love the feedback 🥰 it's nice to be back to writing, and I hope you love it as much as I do. Ok, I'll let you go now. I love you 💖
Kisses 💋
—K
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The morning was still, a simple, peaceful hush hanging over the town of Hawkins, Indiana. Birds whistled their songs in a gentle voice, the trees barely rustling in the breeze as the world dreamt a little while longer. With the sun peeking over the horizon and Wayne already en route to work, the little trailer was serenity embodied.
You'd been up for a while doing nothing in particular as you waited for dawn to break. You loved watching the sun rise from Eddie's bed, the sunlight always seemed to pure shining through his curtains. With the new light slowly filling the room, you were finally able to properly see your boyfriend. Eddie lies beside you on his back, hands tossed across his chest haphazardly, his hair tossled carelessly around his face in a halo of chocolate curls and locks. The blanket that covers you both hung low on his hips, showing off the tattoos scattered across his alabaster skin, he ran a little hot at night and the summer heat was enough for him to toss the blankets aside. Your eyes trace the lovebites you left all along his exposed throat and the scratches along his meaty shoulder, a pleasant result of last night's vigorous activities.
The familiar surge of desire floods your body at the memory of last night, it sends a shiver up your bare spine. You bring one hand to his warm chest, drawing lazy lines as you scoot closer and closer to him. A smile tugs at your lips when Eddie twitches slightly, goosebumps pricking his skin like yours. Your hand glides lower and lower, you weren't in a hurry, no. There was more than enough time in the world for you two, right now.
As your fingers brush along the light dusting of hair on his tummy, Eddie can't help but shiver. Even in his sleep, Eddie was always so responsive; aching for your touch, your kisses, your love. He rolled his head to the side, breathing peacefully as he sleeps still. You watch his face for any signs of consciousness, when you find none, you chuckle softly. Your hand teases the edge of the blanket the covers his lower half. A prominent tent rests between his legs, the sight of it has you moaning softly. Your mouth watered with a hunger you knew well, you needed to taste him.
"G'morning, Princess," a raspy voice slurs. You heard the smile in his words well before you saw it. His face was soft from his slumber, eyes puffy but warm with love, his annoyingly charming smile lazily strung across his pink lips.
"Good morning," you whisper, bringing your hand back up to cup his cheek, leaning in so your lips brush against his ever so slightly. Eddie wastes no time closing the distance between you two. Eddie hums happily into the kiss when he feels your body melting into his, your legs tangling with his, his nornally bright voice was always unbearably deep and husky in the morning. The movement of his lips on yours distracts you enough from his arms slowly capturing your waist, holding you to him. He needed his morning kiss to function.
Finally, when breathing became a priority, Eddie relaxed his head back down on the pillow with a satisfied grin. Two rough hands slid across the bareness of your back soothingly as he looked up at you, he noticed the gleam in your eyes, even in the low light of early morning. The realization of your desire made his grin grow twice as big, his cock twitching excitedly with his heart.
"Whatcha lookin' at me like that for, pretty girl?" He teases, he knows exactly what you want. He just loves hearing you say it. You bite your plump lip to suppress a smirk, your hand leaving his cheek to float down his throat and chest.
"I wanna taste you, Eddie," you purr to him, not missing the way his pupils dilate at your confession, a shiver racking his body as your fingers tease the skin at the edge of the blanket once more. Your lips descend to his collarbones, sucking at the pale skin in the way you know drives him wild. "Please?"
"F-Fuck, yes. You can taste me, Princess," he whispers as if the air was knocked from his lungs. The devious pleased giggle you make against the curve of his neck is absolutely sinful, but Eddie can't help but grin wickedly with you. He feels your kisses deepen as you dip lower and lower, your hand finally cupping his morning wood gently— you always were a little tease.
The deep groan that rumbles in Eddie's chest when your warm fist surrounds his base echoes in the brightening room. Streaks of sunshine finally cutting through the blinds to illuminate your actions perfectly. Eddie lifts his head to watch your hand stroke him beneath the blanket, the duvet shrouding your movements, making it that much more erotic.
"Oh fucking hell, that's good," he groans, his hips pushing into your hand eagerly.
"Yeah?" You taunt softly, speeding your hand up ever so slightly. A surprised yelp breaks his deep moans when your teeth nip at the black widow spider inked into his chest, you give the demon head just below it a tender kiss with a pleased giggle before dropping lower and lower. The wet kisses you leave along his body has Eddie fisting the pillow beneath his head.
He fucking loved when you sucked him off, especially since you fucking loved doing it. The way you'd drop to your knees and take him into your mouth so happily, so eagerly— Eddie was wrapped around your little finger from now until the end of time.
"Jesus Christ," he sighs when you toss the blanket down and settle between his legs. You drag your free hand down his side, still steadily jerking him off with the other. You hum at the sight of his hard, throbbing dick, your hand slowing down to appreciate the way his shaft pulses. Your mouth waters to taste the beads of salty precum that ooze from him, but instead you latch on to his twitching thigh, biting the flesh there as you continue to teasingly stroke him.
"Mmmm," you moan, your eyes fluttering shut for a moment as you taste his skin, the heady scent of his manhood filling your senses. The strong yet lean muscle of Eddie's thigh tenses as you inch higher and higher. As much as he wants to believe you'll finally take him into your mouth, he knows better. His guess is proved right when you switched to his neglected thigh, opting to decorate it with hickeys and bites as you did the first one.
"Fuck— Princess, please, have mercy," he groans with a smile, his hands gripping the pillow a little harder. You chuckle and answer him with a kiss to the most recent hickey you were working on. Eddie watches as you finally bring your tongue to his head, he watches the pink muscles greedily clear away the drops of precum.
"O-Oh, fuck, yes," he moans as your lips encase his tip, his eyes fluttering. Yours stay on his face, enjoying the way his eyebrows furrow and crease with pleasure. With a slack jaw, Eddie lets out the pretties sounds you've ever heard; deep, throaty moans that bubbled from the pit of his chest and echoed throughout the unclean bedroom. His words slur together as you take more of his length into you, finding a slow and steady pace to bob your head.
This happened every single time, he couldn't believe how fucking good your mouth felt. How hot, how soft, how fucking wet you were. You moan as he fills your mouth, your hand not holding his base strokes his hip and inner thigh, knowing how sensitive he was there. The shivers you get in return tell you that he loves it. The vibrations of your moan has Eddie's hips twitching, stuffing more of himself into your throat.
"F-Fuck! Fucking hell!" He curses through his teeth, his eyes shut tight as he tries to calm down.
"Mmmmm," you moan again, watching as his face contorts once more.
"Jesus!" He shouts a little louder than intended, his eyes opening only to roll as you speed up ever so slightly. The sloppy sounds of his cock slowly fucking your mouth was going to drive him crazy. "Baby, ple— a-ah!— faster! Faster, God, please, faster!"
The rawness of his voice and his begging was more than enough to convince you. With a deep breath through your nose, you speed up. Your tongue flat against the underside of his shaft to guard him from your bottom teeth, and your hand moving from his base to cup his balls. The moment your soft hand comes into contact with his aching balls, Eddie does all he can do to keep from screaming; his balled up fist shoved into his mouth.
"Ohhhhmygod!" He cries from behind his hand as you play with his balls, his body writhes uncontrollably at the onslaught of indescribable pleasure. One, two, three more bobs of your head and you've swallowed him completely, your nose brushing against the patch of dark curls at his groin and his tip nestled deep in the heat of your throat. Unable to fight it anymore, Eddie's hand leaves the pillow to grip the back on your head fiercely, an unintelligible scream pitifully muffled by his fist.
The sounds erupting from your lover above you has arousal practically spilling from your untouched cunt. Your thighs rub together with need as Eddie's thighs tremble and spread for you. The grip he has on your head limits your movements, unable to pull off more than an inch or two, at best. In quick, jerking motions, he fucks your face eagerly as he listens to you gag around him. Your eyes, clouded with tears, flutter shut, allowing yourself to lose yourself in his pleasure.
Soon, you both find a rhythm. It's fast and dirty, primal, frenzied, lustful. Perfect. Eddie's deep moans raise in pitch, now sounding like a pitiful whimpering mess. Your own moans grow in frequency, knowing he's close to blowing his load down your throat, just like you want. The twitching of his cock signals his impending high.
"Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck—!" Water gathers at his lower lashes. He couldn't help himself.
Eddie's head slowly begins to lift off the bed, his abs contracting as the pleasure mounts higher and higher, his voice suddenly gone. His hand leaves his mouth to join the other on your head, his fingers going rigid, his eyes stare up at the ceiling in an unfocused gaze, chin tilted towards the heavens as his pretty brown orbs roll and flutter uncontrollably. The smart mouth that is quick with a joke or a witty comment is left hung open in a silent scream, he holds his breath, his entire body drawing painfully taught when the pleasure is suddenly too much for him to take.
The first rope of his hot seed shoots into your throat as Eddie goes still, tears spilling over. He swears on everything holy that he's ascended to heaven, his vision is white and blinded with bursts of light as you milk him dry. You pet his hip as he cums, swallowing his seed with eager gulps, his lungs burning with the lack of oxygen. Each time your throat contracts around his length, his muscles pull tighter.
Finally, the last bit of his cum is cast out from his body. The strength quickly drains from Eddie, his grip loosens from your hair as he falls back on to the mattress, his eyes drooping shut on their own accord. You release him with a pop, gasping to catch your own breath. Through the water in your eyes, you see Eddie's relaxed face, his body limp above you.
"Eddie?" You call softly, your voice gravelly from your throat being wrecked. When you get no response, you crawl up his body, taking note of his breathing and erratic heartbeat. He's out cold.
You can't help but laugh a little before gently petting his sweaty head, brushing his bangs off his sticky forehead. Eddie comes back to you softly tapping his cheek, his ears ring like a bitch but he can hear your melodious voice over the din.
"Eddie, baby, wake up, come on, open your eyes for me, honey," you sound far away, but your words get clearer and clearer. The first thing he sees is your relieved smile, and he just can't help but tiredly smile back. "Hi, there, handsome. You ok?"
"Huh-huh," he grumbles from deep in his chest, speaking was far too complicated for him right now. You had well and truly sucked him stupid. Sleepily, he nuzzles into your hand that now cradles his cheek.
"Ready for a nap, big boy?" You coo and pull the blanket over you both. He hums an affirmative and weakly slings an arm around your waist, holding you close to him. On instinct, you bury your face into his neck as you settle in beside him.
A nap couldn't hurt.
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Comments and reblogs are always appreciated!
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Hey :) Hope you're doing well, I read some of your Aemond fanfics, and they were great. I was hoping you could write a Jacaerys x Alicent daughter fanfic. Something about an arranged marriage, you can take it anyway you wish, but could there be some angst in there. with the prompts 1. ‘’My blood is not noble enough for a prince.’’ and 14. ‘’I’m not used to this. Being a wife.’’
Thank you :)
Request: Alicent’s second daughter to marry Jacaerys to unite the houses
Thank you for the compliment on my Aemond fics <3 More will be coming soon. Also, I was not able to use the first prompt as it doesn’t work with the characters. Alicent’s daughter’s blood is more noble than Jacaerys since her father is king and his mother is princess. I hope you still enjoy what I wrote for you <3
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
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Twenty years ago, when Viserys made Rhaenyra his heir, the knights and houses who swore allegiance to him had no choice but to accept her as their future queen. She was the king’s only child. But now that the king had a male heir — and a spare —, there were possibilities that people would oppose her claim to the throne and demand Aegon to wear the crown. 
To prevent the situation from happening, the king and queen, along with Rhaenyra, made an accord that Rhaenyra would ascend the throne following the king’s death, but to unite the houses, the princess’s firstborn son — and heir — would marry Alicent’s second daughter and, one day, inherit the throne together. 
Like any political marriage, you nor Jacaerys had a choice or say. At least he wasn’t an older lord you had met once or twice. You knew Jacaerys — a little. He was kind, loyal and protective. He was a good man. 
Prior to that arrangement, your grandsire, Otto, had been talking to you about having a tourney to meet suitors, but your mother had been quick to oppose to the idea. She didn't want you to be the victim of his scheming like she had been at your age. 
You were drawing under the weirwood tree when Jacaerys stepped into the yard, having just arrived in King’s Landing. Its red leaves matched the color of your dress, making him smile. He liked you in red. 
‘’I was told by the servants that my wife was out here.’’ 
Immersed in your drawing, you didn’t hear the prince approaching. You only glanced up when you heard your new title, the sound of his voice almost making you drop your charcoal onto your dress. Your mother would have been furious.
A soft laugh left your lips. Moons have passed since the wedding, yet being called a wife still felt strange. ‘’I’m not used to this. Being a wife.’’
‘’Me either,’’ Jacaerys admitted. ‘’What are you drawing, Princess?’’ 
You reflected his smile as he approached. ‘’Just some birds.’’
Jacaerys walked up to the tree and sat beside you. He had a bit of dirt on his jacket from sparring with Ser Criston in the training yard. 
‘’How was your training session with Ser Criston?’’ you asked, raising a hand to run through the front of his hair, fixing an unruly curl that was on the wrong side. 
The older he got, the more he looked like Ser Harwin Strong. He had the same dark brown curls. But you would never dare saying that out loud. Although you meant it as a compliment, the mere insinuation of his illegitimacy was a vile insult to the crown — to the princess. 
‘’I disarmed him twice…and I ate some dirt.’’ The brunet grimaced, the earthy taste still lingering on his tongue. ‘’It was a blessing that no one was watching.’’  
‘’Mayhaps you need an opponent that is closest to your age?’’ you suggested, not finding it fair that he was sparring against a grown man who had years of practice as a knight. ‘’You could ask Aemond to train with you? He is training for the upcoming tourney, but I’m sure he would a accept to help you.’’
Jacaerys hummed, then leaned back against the weirwood tree, taking a moment of rest. He watched with quiet admiration as you continued your drawing, fascinated by the way you could, with a few strokes of charcoal, illustrate pretty much anything. Birds, flowers, dragons, or portraits of your family. 
Much like your twin brother, you favored solitude over socializing. When the betrothal was announced to you, you assumed that this tranquility would be disrupted, but it turned out that Jacaerys enjoyed it too. Partially. While he often thrived on the excitement and duty that came with his heir title, he found it relieving that he could find peace and comfort in your silent company. 
‘’I’m going back to Dragonstone in the morrow,’’ the prince announced, breaking the serenity of the quiet.
‘’How long for?’’
Jacaerys shifted, fearing the conversation that was to come. ‘’No. I’m going back to Dragonstone…permanently.’’
You stopped drawing, a sudden knot forming in your stomach. ‘’And what of me?’’ 
‘’You can join. Or not. That is up to you.’’ 
‘’And what of us? What of our marriage, Jace?’’ you asked, turning your head toward him. 
When you got wed in the tradition of Old Valyria, you pledged to one another that you were one flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever. Jacaerys returning to Dragonstone would break your duties to your House. 
‘’Dragonstone is easy to travel from and back on dragonback.’’ You began picking at your fingers, and Jacaerys noticed, taking your hand in his to stop you. ‘’I tried, but King’s Landing is not my home. I don’t belong here.’’
‘’I can’t leave my family.’’ 
‘’I left mine for you.’’ 
You pulled your hand from his hold and narrowed your eyes at him. Jacaerys moving to King’s Landing after the wedding ceremony was your father’s idea, not yours. How dared he blame you for a decision you didn't make?
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