#and i hope i will get to see them live someday

[fashionbugster]

animal crossing x fashion dreamer | agnes

you reap what you sow.

[mer-se]

I could cry

[xylocopavirginica]

it’s so unbelievable how lightning and thunder and rain are real phenomena that actually happen on this planet. like that’s not something someone made up for a sci-fi story. bolts of electricity are shooting across the sky and huge echoing roars are shaking the land and buckets of the element that brings life are pouring down from above and it’s all real, it’s all happening right in front of me. it’s just so fucking awesome, in the most literal sense of the word

[stillfruit]

i love not knowing if i'll ever be healthy again i love all of the time i've used to move my body become nothing i love spending my adulthood wasting away year after year for various reasons baby!

[myfirstandlast]

going through answered asks from when i was 18 wanting to hold myself so tightly

[fortes-fortuna-iogurtum]

hhhhh why are symphony tickets so expensive >.<

[1980ssunflower]

I wonder what songs my Ryan and Min have written about / for me 🥺💖💙

[ziracona]

People on tumblr will complain about games having heavy handed ethics and black and white narratives with practically unexecutable ideologies, then throw the biggest hissy fit of all time at any games where doing the good guy thing and saving attacked minorities or causes has casualties and makes you kill people in order to enact any large scale real lasting change.

[lavendermanna]

just listened to iris by justice and while it is in fact a sick remix/mashup album, and i do love justice, i gotta say. this is not a space opera guys. this is for sure just a sick lightshow with a few space themed music videos interspersed throughout. like i guess this album could, theoretically, serve as the soundtrack to a space opera that had like. other stuff going on in it, you know? but this aint an opera. weird titling convention imo.

ive been a huge fan of † for a long time but lately ive been listening to Audio, Video, Disco a lot more as well, and i've even been getting into their third album Woman for the first time as well. I'm truly entering my justice era just as they're announcing a new album, so perfect timing i guess?

[lacunasbalustrade]

.

[theriverdalereviewer]

people of tumblr. i have made my stunning return.

[chaotic-mystery]

PROFESSOR’S PET

Pairing: Art Professor!Joel AU x Teacher Assistant!f!reader.

Summary: Professor Miller wants you to teach the class tomorrow morning & you need help being less nervous. What if he’s the reason you’re nervous, though?

Content Warnings: SMUT 18+ only! MDNI. Age gap but not specified, power imbalance (professor x TA, reader stutters when nervous, academic weapon, teasing, fingering, one (1) pair of panties ripped to shreds, oral (f receiving), spitting, pussy slaps, praise kink, name calling (good girl, sweetheart, baby, smart girl), dirty talk, talking you through it, spanking, condescending a little bit, cum eating, face riding, nasty freaky kisses to share your cum, no use of y/n.

Authors Note: Good morning, babies! This is for @studioghibelli & their fantastic writing challenge. This moodboard was absolutely brilliant. As someone who did not go to college & can’t retain information well, I tried to research as much as I could about art so I hope I did it justice! 🩵 || wc: 2.6k || beta’d by @wannab-urs <333 ily sm gin ||

“You want me to do what?”

It came out more as an exclamation rather than a question but you didn’t care at the moment.

He couldn’t have been serious.

“I want you to teach the class tomorrow about your two favorite artists. That’s all I’m askin’” Professor Miller says, stuffing his papers back into the desk drawer for the night.

“B-but you know I don’t talk well in front of them, I constantly stutter and they don’t respond well to me yet, I-”

“Do you need me to help you with the lesson plan for tomorrow? I can come over and help you write down some notes on what you want to talk about, but I need you to get more comfortable around them. We have a long school year ahead of us, and it’s not going to work if you’re afraid to speak up here.”

He was annoyed having to explain his reasoning, but he was right. Even if you didn’t want to hear you were doing a terrible job as a teacher's assistant. Scratching your head and turning so he can’t see the look of shame on your face, Joel shuffles towards you and hands you your coat off the coat rack.

“It’ll be fine. All you need is a push and you’ll do great. Hurry before we miss the train.”

You nod and take your coat to put it on, the tan fabric becoming darker as you step outside and rain starts to pelt off it. Mr. Miller sighs and hoists his briefcase above his head and takes his other hand to the side of him searching for yours until he finds it and grabs it, guiding you through the raindrops until you get under the stone archway to take a brief moment for the rain to calm down.

“Can’t believe I’ve had you as a TA for almost two years now and have never once seen where you live or even know about you outside of this place.” His finger wags slowly behind his head, indicating he was referring to the school.

“I don’t really like to talk about myself, but my parents made a really good name for themselves. I was put through all the good schools they could toss their money at. I was supposed to go to school to be a lawyer, but I wasn’t interested in the slightest. I told my mom I wanted to study visual arts and she wasn’t too surprised, said I always had an eye for that sort of thing. I want to become a professor here one day but for now I just want to learn everything I can, ya know?” You smile at the ground as you think about teaching here someday and hope it doesn’t come off as dorky.

He’s so much older than you and probably knows so much between art and life. You could only hope to have as much knowledge as him when you become a professor.

“I think that’s amazing honestly. I hope to one day see you as a professor here whenever you feel like you’re ready.”

His grin eases your nerves, and you hear the train coming, taking his hand once more to run to the train stop. Your shoes squeak against the vinyl flooring of the moving cabin until you get to a seat by the foggy window, plopping your bag right next to you with Joel sitting across the small white table that was tattered from all the use.

The train ride to your town wasn’t too long and Joel read almost the entire time, asking you every now and then if you were okay. Once you catch a taxi to take you home, it drops you off right at the black iron gates. He steps out of the sleek black car and is a little taken aback by the size of your house.

“What’s the matter? I told you they had money.” You giggle and push the buzzer on the stone post to the left of you, telling them to let you inside. Almost instantly, the gates push open and you walk along the pebble drive, flinging your book bag over your shoulder as he follows a few steps behind you, taking in the beauty that is your house.

Once you get inside and introduce him to the small group of staff working, they tell you your parents went out for the evening to some charity event and there’s food in the fridge if you were hungry.

The nerves about teaching tomorrow overrode the feeling of being hungry, but you still offered Joel anything he could’ve wanted. He settles with water, and you leave him in the study where he’s content with gazing at the walls covered in full bookshelves about any and everything.

You come back in and shut the rosewood pocket doors quietly, careful not to disturb him from the current book in his hand about astronomy. The way his fingers grazed over the corners of the pages made your stomach tingle just a little bit, the dim lighting from the chandelier glowing a soft yellow on his face as he was entranced by the contents.

Get it together, he’s off limits, you tell yourself.

There was no ring on his finger and he always talked about his lonely weekends, but still. You were his teacher's assistant.

You clear your throat and set his water down on the desk before you turn on the green bankers lamp sitting at the edge of the table. Joel closes the red leather book and looks up at you, noticing the water, and he puts the book back where he found it.

“Thank you.” He raises the glass to you before taking a sip, the muscles in his neck contracting as he swallows, and it brings that same feeling as before that you felt in your stomach.

So, give me two of your favorite art pieces and the artist with some facts about them. You don’t have to start from their birth or anything.”

He pinches his slacks right on the thighs to hike them up just a little before he sits down in the wooden chair at the head of the table, his hands on the back of his head as his fingers interlock against his skull.

Focus.

You pace back and forth at the other end of the table, Joel’s eyes on you intently as you fiddle with your fingers, running through the list of artists you tend to gravitate towards.

“I got it. Botticelli.”

“Nice choice. Why him?”

You continue to walk back and forth and sort out which facts about him and his artwork you love to tell people they wouldn’t normally know.

“I love the painting Birth of Venus but um- it’s not technically her birth story, it’s m-more like the story continued after her birth; when she steps off her shell and onto the island of Cyprus. S-she’s being blown onto…” you take a deep breath in and put your head in your hands.

“I’m sorry, Joel.”

You turn away from him and look out the window trying to compose yourself.

“Just take your time, I’ve got all night, kid.”

Turning to face him, he’s sitting straight up now and you can tell he’s listening to every word coming out of your mouth. His dark jacket is tight on his arms and it’s just enough to show the outline of his muscles.

“She’s being blown onto shore by the spring winds which is Zephyr, who is accompanied by his wife, Chloris, who’s also blowing Venus’ shell to shore. Her pose was most likely inspired by an ancient marble statue in the Medici’s collection, which we refer to as the Medici Venus, the first ever nude female sculpture in classical art.”

You manage to recite all of that without stuttering this time and he grins proudly.

“I knew you could do it. Good job. Now, what I want you to do is write down bullet points on this note card with a keyword that’ll spark your mind and draw the facts out of you fluently.”

Your cheeks warm at first and then your brows furrow at his instructions.

“What do you mean, professor?”

“Come here, I’ll show you.”

He scoots his chair back enough so you can stand to the side of him and watch as he scribbles down some words on the lined piece of paper. The red ink flows effortlessly and he pushes it to you, pointing at what he did.

“It’s just a keyword that’ll spark your brain to talk about it. If you write down everything you’re gonna say, it sounds like a robot trying to read it. This way, you won’t get overwhelmed by everything you wanna say and you can sound effortless.”

You nod as the gears in your head turn, the idea making perfect sense now. Reaching out to grab another note card, you bend over to write on it, starting at the top. You feel Joel’s hand on the small of your back very lightly as he watches you write, the pen in your hand moving faster than he’s ever seen.

“The next one is gonna be the technique he used for the painting.”

You write the word ‘technique’ shakily, trying to breathe manually.

“What about his technique?” Joel asks, his hand not moving from your back.

“H-he um, he used the tempera technique, it’s when you d-dilute a raw egg with water and mix watered down p-pigment with it and um-um paint with it.” Your words get breathy and all at once you stand straight up, clearing your throat once more.

“You’re still pretty nervous. Is it me? Am I making you nervous?” The condescending tone in Professor Miller's voice makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up, feeling like you’ve been called out.

“Partially, maybe.” You admit and turn away from him but you don’t move from next to him.

He runs his hand over his scruff and smirks slyly.

“Do you trust me?”

Without hesitation you nod yes.

“Turn around for me.” Joel’s hands grip your hips and spin you around in your spot.

“Now read your little note card for me. Come on, you’ve got this, smart girl.”

That was all you had to hear to make your stomach flip and arousal flood your body. Smart girl.

His hands never leave your hips as he holds you still, subconsciously rubbing the fabric of your skirt on the waistband while you read your notes. You manage to get through half of them before you stutter out and stop again.

“Again, from the top.” He says softly, still holding onto you. Just as you begin to speak, you feel yourself being guided backwards and you don’t stop talking, going with the flow of things.

For the purpose of learning, right?

Joel puts you right against his thighs, his head peeking over the side of your arm to see what bullet point you were on.

“Keep going, you’re doing such a good job.” He whispers as he rubs your back gently.

“Botticelli used the tempera technique, which is when you mix a r-raw egg with water a-and you dilute yo-our pigment with water and mix th-em together.”

His hand ever so slowly moves around the side of your thigh until he’s on the top of it, his thumb dangerously close to the point of no return. Your breaths were getting heavier and you were almost positive he could feel your heart rattling in your body like a caged animal.

“Joel, I-”

“Start it again, and if you stutter I’ll stop.”

His hand dips under your skirt and he nods to your index card, wanting you to restart.

“Well come on, be a good girl for me.” He grunts out and smirks before biting your arm playfully.

You didn’t know how you got here or why he wanted to touch you this way but you weren’t going to stop him. He was a good looking man and god forbid you do something out of your normal routine.

His fingertips dance over your overly excited clit and release some tension for you, and it’s like a key to a gate, your legs spreading more and more with every circle from his middle finger. You continue to talk through his efforts to make you stutter, even when he gets faster and kisses your back.

“Just like that, sweetheart. Next artist, let’s go.” He pushes you up on the desk and splits your legs apart, ripping your panties in two before he takes off his jacket and rolls his shirt sleeves up to his elbows.

“The Swing painted by Jean-Honore Fragonard. It’s said it’s a commission from a man on the court who requested Fragonard to paint him and his younger mistress being pushed on a swing while he watches and admires her-oh my god, Joel, right there, yes, yes.”

His tongue dances against your clit after he spits on it, licking every inch of you just to hear your pretty moans. His hands travel up your abdomen until he gets to your shirt, ripping the buttons apart to see your beautiful breasts. A deep groan against your overly sensitive clit makes your eyes almost roll back into your skull and he slaps your pussy firmly.

“That’s not being a good girl. Did I tell you to stop?”

“No, sir.” You whimper and try to get back on track about the painting you were talking about. His curls tickle against the soft insides of your thighs as he continues, licking feverishly at your clit.

“The brushwork is rapid and it exemplifies the Rococo style of playfulness and elegance” you whimper out and buck against his face, your hand dipping into his hair to tug firmly.

He spanks your ass as he feels your body squirm under him, tugging your legs to rest on his shoulders as he continues to lap up your arousal.

“You’re such a filthy girl, riding your professor's face in your house, naughty naughty girl. Oh, yes, cmon sweetheart, use my mouth.”

You moan his name louder and thank god your sounds are muffled from the rest of the house by all the literature covering the walls. Somehow you finish telling him about the painting and he looks at you as you cry out for more from him, your slick glossing over his mustache.

“Please make me come, Joel. Please, I need you so bad.” You kiss him roughly and try to grab his rock hard bulge but he pulls his hips away and groans loudly on your lips before grinning, going back down to your pussy and moaning against you.

“Come right on my face, right fuckin’ now. Let me taste how sweet you are. I know you can’t handle much more and you don’t wanna disappoint me, right baby?” Joel smirks and flattens his tongue against your clit once more, teasing you and enjoying this just as much as you were.

The burning sensation in your belly starts to spill over and before you can tell him, you grip both edges of the table and come against his face, crying and squirming to get away from him but it only makes Joel pin you down by your wrists and lick harder, tasting every bit you give him.

He licks you clean and kisses his way up your stomach, through the valley of your breasts to your lips, sharing the deliciousness with you. As you come down from your high, the grandfather clock in the corner of the room starts to chime, indicating it was midnight.

“That 7:30 A.M. class is gonna be here before you know it, professor.” You push the damp curls off his forehead and giggle as he stands up tiredly, holding a hand out for you. As you sit up on the table, his hand cups your cheek and kisses you deeply once more.

“You owe me sleep, so much sleep.”

[ohisms]

↪ 𝑽𝑨𝑵 𝑯𝑬𝑳𝑺𝑰𝑵𝑮 . ( a collection of sentence starters from the 2004 film . adjust phrasing as necessary . mature themes present . )

oh , [ name ] . it's just you .

where are you going to run , [ name ] ?

what are you saying ?

why do you think i brought you here ?

you said you believed in my work .

i would kill myself before helping in such a task .

you've been so kind to me , [ name ] .

you can't kill me , [ name ] .

so , you're the great [ name ] .

we all have our little problems .

let's make it your decision , shall we ?

i wish you a week in hell .

why don't you do something about it ?

this is all a test of faith .

i can curse all i want , dammit .

you . turn around .

strangers don't last long here .

the laws of men mean little to me .

i don't need your help .

you stay here . they're trying to kill me .

nice to see you too , [ name ] .

did i do something to you in a past life ?

i hope you do have a heart , [ name ] . because someday i'd like to drive a stake through it .

your reputation precedes you .

i am hollow ! and i will live ... forever .

please , say you will not try again .

do not fear me ... everybody else fears me .

i was unprepared . it won't happen again .

do you understand forgiveness ?

i would rather die than help you .

don't be boring , everyone who says that always dies .

may he rest in peace .

how long has it been , 300 , 400 years ?

you don't remember , do you ?

what exactly is it i am to be remembering ?

it's no surprise you would know all about me .

we have such history , you and i .

have you ever wondered why you have such horrific nightmares ?

[ name ] , it's alright , i'm taking you home .

what , did you think we haven't tried everything before ?

no one knows how to kill [ name ] .

i could have used that information earlier .

would you like me to refresh your memory a little ?

allow me to ... reintroduce myself .

i think we've overstayed our welcome .

don't give me that look .

you were right . i'm sorry .

monster ? who's the monster here ? i have done nothing wrong !

look , there's still time .

you were right . i'm sorry .

do you have any family , [ name ] ?

if you value your lives , and the lives of your kin , you will kill me .

evil may have created it , may have left its mark on it , but evil does not rule it .

now you know why they call me a murderer .

oh my god ... you've been bitten .

so much trouble ... so much trouble .

now you will become that which you hunted so passionately . may others be as passionate in their hunting of you .

don't worry , god will forgive us .

how many commandments can we break in one day ?

oh my god , you should be terrified .

how does it feel to be a puppet on my string ?

neither of us has ever settled for half .

you make my skin crawl .

i'm not gonna like this , am i ?

one brief moment of pain , and we can be together forever .

you have no heartbeat .

you are nothing but damned bones , and damned souls .

well , that doesn't sound like a good thing .

we don't have a choice . just don't get killed .

you don't understand , it doesn't matter what happens to me .

god is not the only one that can create life .

you can't go until i say you can go , and i say you can go when you're dead !

you're supposed to die .

we are both part of the same great game , [ name ] , we just find ourselves on opposite sides of the board .

you are being used , [ name ] , as was i . but i escaped , so can you .

if you're going to kill someone , kill them . don't stand there talking about it .

all i want is life . the continuation of my kind .

some things are better left forgotten .

[captainamericasmotercycle]

Hi I was wondering if you could do a fic with Jacaerys x sister! Reader where they are at a gala/feast and ppl keep flirting with reader so Jave gets jealous and stuff. So when they go to their room at the end of the feast Jace makes her ride his face and makes sure she’s loud enough for everyone to hear that she’s his.

warnings: typical canon incest, jace x sister!reader (father is not specified), no dance of the dragons au, 18+ minors DNI, jace hates aemond in every universe, everyone lives au!!!, jace eating u out like a man starved, nyra and daemon giving kris jenner vibes???, cursing, the targtowers and targaryens are besties (kind of)

For your younger brother Lucerys’s name day of ten and five, your family decided it would be best to throw a feast for him.

He was becoming older and would soon inherit Driftmark, he needed a celebration to show that he is becoming a man and no longer a mere child.

Since your mother became Queen and your older half-brother became her heir, many people were interested in the lives of the royal family, so Luke’s name day was flooded with people from all over Westeros.

You were all dolled up in a fancy gown, you hair was braided so elegantly and intricately, and you moved with such grace that most eyes were on you throughout the night.

Luke joked to Jace that you may be able to find a lord husband tonight, but at his suggestion, Jace tensed up and his face hardened.

You sat with your family at the elevated table, you mother was in the middle, Daemon next to her, his daughters on his side of the table, you sat between Jace and your mother, and then sat Luke, Joffrey, Viserys, and Aegon.

You watched in awe at the celebration, only imagining how grand a wedding could be.

People danced, wore lavish clothing, gorged themselves in the food, and occasionally approached the table to offer up gifts to your brother for his name day.

It was about halfway through the night when highborn men started to approach you, which was uncommon up until recent.

Every since you had turned ten and eight, and became more developed in certain places, you were consistently approached for your hand.

Lord Oscar Tully was the first to approach your table, you smiled gently at him, knowing his new situation.

“Hello, Princess. You look lovely tonight.”

You felt heat rush to your cheeks, a dark color dusting your cheeks, he was quite the charmer, and not bad looking either, “Thank you, Lord Tully. I heard about your grandsire, I offer my deepest condolences.”

He nods solemnly, “Thank you, Princess. I may have lost my grandsire, but I have gained a deep power and a great kingdom… one I hope you will consider in your future.”

You smiled gently, “I heard the Riverlands are beautiful, I would most definitely love to see them someday. Is there something I can do for you?”

“I just wanted to come and offer you some company, if you’ll have me?”

You looked to your mother who smiled at you, knowingly. You looked back to the young lord and nodded, “I’d love to.”

You came around the table, taking his arm in yours as he led you to the floor to dance.

Jace’s gaze hardened and he downed his cup of wine, slamming it down on the table harsher than intended. Luke and Joffrey giggled at him, Viserys and Aegon following their older brothers’ actions.

Luke leaned over to his brother, “Careful, your face might get stuck like that.”

“Shut up, Luke.”

“I’m just saying…”

“He’s not good enough for her—”

“You say that about every man and I could hardly agree with you, most of the Riverlands looks to House Tully for direction and leadership; she would be in a great position there as their lady.”

“Do you want me to leave the table and kill myself?”

“All I am saying is that maybe you should focus on yourself instead of our sister… you need to wed as well, create heirs for the Seven Kingdoms.”

Jace rolled his eyes, “You sound like Mother.”

Rhaenyra whipped her head to her sons, “I think he is right, Jace.”

“Of course you do.”

“You are too invested in something that does not concern you Jacaerys. Perhaps you need to start looking for your own Lady Wife.”

“I do not wish to wed.”

“I hate to tell you, but your wishes do not matter to the Seven Kingdoms.”

Jace sighed, moving his gaze back to you and Lord Tully. You smiled as the two of you danced. Jace’s jealously only grew as he watched.

Oscar Tully was not good enough for you, no one is good enough for you… except Jace himself.

As the song ended, a new one started. Luke left the table with Rhaena, Joffrey and the twins were led to their chambers to be put to bed, your mother was in an intent conversation with Corlys and Rhaenys, and you had just been approached by Gwyane Hightower.

From the look on Gwyane’s face, Jace knew Gwyane was being smug with you, he scoffed, thinking that you would never be charmed by him, but when he saw you smiling, standing too close for comfort to him, he almost puked his supper all over the floor.

You danced and flirted with Gwyane Hightower for a bit of the night, making Jace more and more jealous.

As you finished with Gwyane, you returned to your seat, a big smile on your face.

“Enjoy your dance?” Jace asked, venom lacing his tongue.

“I did, as a matter of fact, Gwyane is… such a lovely knight. He’s a knight… did you know?”

Before Jace could respond, you were hugged lightly from behind by Helaena. She kissed you gently on the cheek, “Quite the collection of suitors you have assembled tonight.”

You giggled lightly, “I know! Quite fun, to be honest.”

Jace grunted from beside you, making you and Helaena both turn to him, “Are you alright?”

“Just fine,” he held his lips in a thin tight line.

You went back to your conversation with Helaena about her uncle, Gwayne and Lord Tully, when you were finally met by another suitor.

“Sister. Niece. Nephew,” Aemond stood in front of you, a smirk dancing on his lips.

“Uncle,” you looked at him with raised brows.

“I was just wondering if you would join me for a dance. I’ve seen all of these useless men that call themselves suitors and figured you needed a more distinguished partner, such as a prince.”

You blinked slowly at him, Helaena nudged you with a smile. You quickly glanced at Jace and thought he looked like he was about to roll over and die.

You stood and came around the table to meet him, you took his offered hand, “Let’s see how well you dance, Uncle.”

Helaena watched the two of you walk away, “A great pair, the two of them, they’ll be fantastic together,” she took a grape off your plate, popping it in her mouth and walking off.

This was Jace’s last straw, seeing you dance with Aemond might have been the most painful thing he’s ever done in his entire life. After watching for just a couple moments, he could not stand it any longer.

His mother rolled her eyes, watching him seethe, “Jace.”

“What?”

“Go get her.”

“What?”

“Go. I can see it in your eyes.”

Jace stood, rushing down to you and grabbing your arm, stealing you away from Aemond.

You followed him, shocked at the sudden behavior. He yanked you to his chambers, leaving the doors open.

Once in his room, you pulled away from him, “Jacaerys! What is the meaning of this?”

“You! You are the meaning of this!” His yelling made you take a step back, he stalked up, putting his hand on either side of your face, holding on tightly, “You think you can tease me like that? Taking any man who offered his hand?”

“Jace-”

“You know they are no good for you. They may be nobles, but are they heir to the Iron Throne? You are simply doing this to upset me.”

Your voice became small, “I did not mean to upset you.”

You could feel wetness pooling in your small clothes beneath your gown. He shoved his face into yours, harshly smashing his lips on yours.

You stumbled back at the forced, you pushed him back to take a breath and think about what you are doing. After a couple deep breaths, you rushed at him, nearly mounting him.

He groped and grasped at every part of you, you doing the same to him. His lips moved down to your neck, sucking lightly at it.

You threw your head back as his teeth grazed the sensitive area of your neck. The two of your shuffled your way to his bed.

“Jace… the doors, someone might see or hear.”

“I hope they do.”

“But—”

He pushed you on his bed, “I want them to hear how good your brother can make you feel, how they will never be me, how they will never taste you.”

He spread your legs, pulling off your underclothes. He grabbed your thighs, flipping you to straddle his face.

You fell forward, steadying yourself up with your hands. You pushed yourself up back in a sitting position.

Jace yanked at your legs, pulling you further down onto his face. You felt his nose buried into your cunt, rubbing against your sensitive bud.

You were about to voice your concerns about suffocating him, but you suddenly gasped out as you felt his tongue lick a long stripe down your maidenhood.

He thrusted his tongue in and out of you roughly, you screamed out for everyone in the hall to hear, “Gods! Jace!”

Visceral animalistic sounds came from the back of your throat, sounds you had never heard before.

In the hall, the attention of the crowds was taken by your yells, guards grabbed at their swords, you mother rose suddenly at your scream, Daemon was on his feet and ready for an oncoming attack.

One of Jace’s personal guards came rushing into the room to promise that no one was in danger and that the two of you were… together in his chambers.

Your mother and Daemon’s faces instantly reddened. They shared a look of embarrassment and pride. On one hand, as your parents, they wanted to kill you both, but as the Queen and King Consort, they knew the realm would be in their children’s hands at their demise.

Tears rolled down your face as Jace fucked you with his tongue. You had never felt such pleasures in your entire life. It made you understand why lowborn men seek out such endeavors at the disloyalty of their wives.

Jace couldn’t get enough of you. You tasted sweeter than anything that’s ever touched his tongue. His tongue moved faster as you panted, moaned, and groaned above him.

As his pace quickened, you felt a tight coiling in your lower stomach.

“Jace… fuck!”

At your vulgarity, he quickened his pace. You came fast and harder than you ever thought you could. Jace took all of your juices into his mouth, not leaving a drop of your sweet release.

You collapsed next to him, panting outrageously. He lay next to you, breathless, laughing to himself. You grabbed a pillow, hitting him the face with it. He took it from you, tossing it on the ground.

He came to hover over you, trapping you beneath his figure. You leaned down and kissed your lips gently, you could still taste your arousal on his lips.

You stared at him with a smile, “I suppose you think making the entire Keep believe we were under attack is funny?”

“It was not I that made them think we were under attack. If I am not mistaken, it was you screaming your head off.”

“You were the one who yanked me away from the celebration.”

“Yes, but you were the one who made me.”

You scoffed, sitting up against the headboard, “Made you?”

“Yes, dancing with that Tully, the fucking Hightower knight, and worse of all, Aemond.”

“Mmm, sounds like you are jealous?” You taunted him sarcastically.

“They are not deserving of you.”

“And you are?”

“I am the heir to the Iron Throne and your blood. I am the most deserving.”

“So are you suggesting I should become Queen one day?”

“Hmm, I do not remember offering my hand to you to wed…”

You hit him in the stomach with the back of your hand, “You just had the entire Seven Kingdoms hear my screams while you were buried up my dress. I would slaughter you and become the heir myself if you did not ask for my hand after that.”

He took your hand in his, kissing the back of your palm, “I shall talk to Mother in the morn.”

You stared at your intertwined hands, “We should return…”

“You think we are able to return after the little show we put on?”

“I suppose you are right,” you sighed, leaning your head on his shoulder.

He got up, leaving you on his bed. He walked to his chamber doors, locking them.

He returned to you, laying on his back, “Perhaps we should just rest now, we shall deal with our consequences tomorrow.”

You lay with him, resting your head on his chest, he brought his hand to rub your arm, coaxing you to sleep.

He pressed a couple kiss to your hairline, “You will be my wife soon enough, dōna tala.”