#my plan was to have all four (that i know of) princess outfits in one post but i am an impatient lad

[kit-screams-into-the-abyss]

princess of the boobers

1 / 2

[peachypinkygloss]

high on love — pjm

Jimin has once again won a race and he takes you out on a ride for the night, taking dangerous but very exciting risks. He should have expected that the rush of adrenaline in your body always turns you into a horny mess.

⚡︎ pairing: racer!jimin x fem!reader

⚡︎ genre: established relationship, smut

⚡︎ word count: 6.4k

⚡︎ warnings: unrealistic depiction of motor sports, jimin likes cars & oc is a bimbo lol, lots of cute nasty shit, disrespect of speed limits (jimin's breaking the law ‼️🙀), if this isn't the perfect representation of how deprived i am idk what is, sexting, nudes exchange, dom jimin/sub reader, unprotected sex, public/car sex, praising & degradation, brief anal play, blowjob, cum eating.

a.n.: it's jimin's special day 🤭 so i'm giving myself a gift lol. how generous of me to share it with you 🫶🏻 i finished this with a headache so y'all better hype this up (it deserves it, give it a read 😉)

"Minnie!"

"Hey, baby girl. Did you enjoy the race?"

"Yes!" You squeal excitedly, sticking your phone to your ear, happy Jimin decided to call you after his awesome performance. "You were so great," you say dreamily, "Couldn't take my eyes off of you."

You hear Jimin chuckling through the phone as you throw yourself on your bed, landing on your stomach. You bite down on your lip and start kicking your legs while listening to his husky voice, sending chills down your spine.

"I believe you," he laughs and you can't help but smile. "Won that one just for you, babe," he flirts, butterflies erupting in your stomach. You bring a finger up to your mouth and chew on your nail, practically mewling at the flattery.

Your boyfriend always manages to make you shy, teasing and flirting with you like the very first time. You imagine his plump, pink lips moving slowly to form the words, coming out of his mouth like pure and sweet honey.

"What wouldn't you do for me, hm?" You question, flirting back with him and hearing him laugh at that. "I'm so proud of you, Minnie," you purr into the telephone, an undying smile plastered on your face.

"You know me, princess," he begins and you picture the little grin he's surely sporting right now, "I never come second," he smugly snickers.

Even though you always tell him to not be too cocky — karma will come bite your ass, you usually repeat to him — you find it extremely hot at the moment. You love when a man is confident and isn't afraid to fight for what's his.

You recognize the sound of a door opening and closing on Jimin's other end of the phone, hearing him walk and rummage through his things.

"What are you doing?" You ask.

"Picking out an outfit for this evening," he replies, phone secured between his shoulder and ear while he takes out pieces of clothes from his suitcase. "Hopping in the shower in a minute."

"I see..." You hang on the last syllable, drawing invisible forms on the bed covers underneath you. You hear him stepping into the bathroom and locking the door behind him. "You must be so sweaty right now," you wonder, a naughty image of a sweaty Jimin appearing in your head, skin all sticky and glistening, a delicious, manly odour emanating from him.

"You bet I am," he confirms. "Talk later, yeah? I'll be at yours in four hours, babe."

You and your boyfriend are supposed to hang out later in the evening today. It was planned before the race, agreeing to see each other no matter if he wins or loses, but Jimin never comes second, does he?

You nod your head, though you remember he can't see you. "'Kay, see ya later, Minnie," you sing in response, crossing your legs and resting your chin on your open palm.

"See ya, love you."

"Love you, too."

You hang up on Jimin, sighing contentedly before throwing your iPhone on the bed and rolling on your back, looking up at the ceiling. You stay silent for a few seconds until you start humming a lullaby, improvising a random tune.

The 'ding' of your phone interrupts you and you turn your head around to look at your new notification.

💬 Jimin 💓 sent an attachment.

This immediately catches your intention so you open the chat, biting down on your lip in anticipation, belly bubbling in excitement. Your brows raise up when your eyes lay on the photo Jimin's sent you. You feel your face and core heating up, blood rushing to your poor little clit.

You click on the picture to have a closer view, and gosh, your boyfriend is fucking hot. Your mouth waters and you cannot believe how handsome he is. He has the body of an angel and the personality of the devil for sharing that pic with you.

You see his veiny cock fully hard from the underside, standing tall over his stomach, a patch of dark hair crowning his pubis. You rub your thighs together to relieve the ache between your legs, unable to look away from your phone.

You can't see his face, but you have a beautiful sight of his abdomen, coated in a thin layer of sweat. You have the insatiable need to touch him, feel his heavy length weighing down on your tongue and have your small palm wrapped around the base of it.

You want Jimin to slap your face with his cock, tease you by swiping his wet tip over your lips, letting out a disapproval 'nuh-uh' when you try to put it in your mouth out of eagerness.

He took the picture just before going into the shower. He's such a tease.

You start to type out your response, thumbs quickly pressing down on the keyboard.

You: aww minnie :( wanna put my tongue on you wanna lick all that sweat off your abs and take you so deep in my throat

Jimin 💓: yeah? wanna cry like a little bitch around my dick?

Real bad, you think, heat pooling in your panties. You feel your clit aching, but you don't want to ease the pain, don't really want to play with yourself — maybe just out of pure laziness, though you know edging yourself before seeing Jimin makes things ten times more intense. And needy.

You open the camera app and lift your crop top over your breasts, taking a quick picture of your boobs for Jimin. You go back to your conversation with him and add the nude you've just captured to the chat.

💬 You sent an attachment.

You: yes your cock's too big for me, always make my eyes sting ;( want you to cum on my tits, minnie, please make a mess of me i'm your cumslut x

Jimin 💓: love those tits but you're right, baby my good, little cumslut. god, you're so gross, you realize that?

You: not gross! just passionately wanting you to mark me as yours but i can be a lil gross while sucking your cock :p

Jimin 💓: you always eat that cock like a stupid mess anyway drooling like a dog for it

You: can't help myself when you feel so good in my mouth <3 when your cum feels so warm and creamy on my breasts gosh i wanna be with you so bad right now miss you so much minnie

Jimin 💓: you fucking minx i'll be there in a few. i've told you, didn't i, needy girl?

You: you did! but i feel so lonely without my minnie my pussy's so so wet just thinking about you :(

Jimin 💓: fuck i know coming soon. wait for me, princess

You: okie-dokie x

💬 You sent an attachment.

You: oops sorry, miss-clicked :D

Jimin 💓: you know you didn't gonna fuck those tits bite those cute perky nipples

You: they're too small for it, i fear :/

Jimin 💓: shut up you know i can fuck every part of your body if i want to you're gonna push them on your chest and make a tight little entrance for me

You: if that's what mister wants >:(

Jimin 💓: yes. i'm gonna go in the shower now, you've distracted me enough

You: good shower x

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

You're happy to see Jimin parked in front of your apartment building as you walk down the stairs, getting in the passenger side of his Porsche. You don't know which model it is — not that you have registered that information when he first told you — but you know it's in a beautiful grey colour.

After closing the door, you perch yourself over the centre console and lean in toward Jimin, pursing your lips to kiss him. "Hi," you softly greet him with a smile, smooching his full lips then every part of his face.

"Hey, baby," he chuckles, letting himself be pampered in your wet and warm kisses. The wet feeling isn't really what he likes the most, but he'll never stop you from showing your affection to him. He secretly loves it.

You eventually back away with a giggle, catching the smirk Jimin tries to hide. "You have a bit of lipstick here..." You giggle again, even though you should feel guilty for staining his cheeks with the marks of your lips, but he looks too cute this way.

"Where?" he questions, brows frowning a little, "Here?" he points to his right cheek. He got it right, but it's not the only place where he has lipstick.

"Yeah, here, too." You poke his left cheek. "And some here," you whisper, talking about his jaw and tracing it, "Definitely here..." You swipe your index over his plump lips. "Oh, and more here!" You exclaim, rapidly diving in to leave a kiss to his forehead, but before you can sit back up in your seat, Jimin holds you by the waist.

You squeal, flinching when he smacks your ass with his free hand, gripping the flesh by slipping a palm under your jean skirt. "You little tease... You like making fun of me, don't you?" He sensually growls in your ear, pussy clenching around nothing.

You whine, shaking your head from side to side, holding eye-contact with him. Your hands are laying flat against his chest, leaning on him to keep yourself face to face with your boyfriend.

"No! Just like how you look with my lips all over you," you purr, grinning when Jimin quirks an eyebrow. "Gotta show everybody that you're taken..."

"I see, little miss possessive," he says, giving small taps to your butt.

"Yes, you're mine," you affirm. "Mine, mine, mine," you repeat the word over again, kissing once more Jimin's pretty face.

He shuts you up by crashing his mouth on yours, gripping you by the jaw and keeping you in place. When he breaks your exchange, he instructs you to sit in your seat. "Put your seatbelt on, princess."

You reluctantly let go of Jimin's lips and do what he told you to. Even though he scolded you for ruining his smooth face, he doesn't do anything to wipe the lipstick's stains off, which makes you smile. There aren't that many anyway, you were lying earlier, but you love it when it doesn't bother him to wear your marks like you always wear his proudly — he's the kind to bite your inner thighs while eating you out and leave the trace of his teeth on you.

"Okay, let's go!" You announce loudly, not sure where you're going — probably to his since he lives on the other side of the city — but you're still very excited nonetheless. Car rides with Jimin are always a lot of fun.

"Let's go," he repeats with a nod of his head, sending you a wink as he puts the car into drive. You giggle once again, just genuinely happy to be with your boyfriend — your favourite person on this planet.

You look outside, watching the city lights at night and the other cars with you on the road. Jimin sometimes — often — judges which car people are driving, saying this model isn't worth anything or that the brand is just shitty. You don't understand the justification, but it has no importance to you, to be quite honest. And anyway, he sounds really hot when he's talking about a subject he's an expert in.

There's the occasional asshole who accelerates at red lights, this time being a BMW, surely intimidated or jealous by the expensive Porsche next to them. You find these people super annoying, especially when they do that when they see a woman standing on the sidewalk. How little their dick has to be.

Though Jimin doesn't feel the need to do that because he's not a pathetic man, he still has to crush that guy's ego. You notice him going faster next to the other car as you enter the highway, having a bit more space and freedom.

"Minnie," you say his nickname kind of as a warning, but you know he won't listen to you. You pretend to not support this improvised car race even though you already feel the adrenaline rushing through your body.

"Hold on to the handle, baby," he commands, looking through his rear mirror to see what the other car is doing, and to his satisfaction, they're participating in the race with Jimin. "We're gonna show this guy what it is really like to race," he smirks cheekily, adjusting better his rear mirror to a better angle.

So you execute yourself, gripping the handle placed just upside the door passenger — gripping it tightly, feeling your heart start beating faster.

The feeling is pleasantly familiar, remembering the numerous times Jimin made you hop in his Mustang during his practices, going super fast and trying to impress you. You've always been really impressed.

You recall the time he went to Bordeaux, trying out the famous circuit just for fun, just because it's Jimin. You've accompanied him there and watched him race with other professionals. It was truly amazing, really thrilling.

Jimin goes up to 140 km/h really fast in a 90 km/h zone. He dodges vehicles easily, though it's tight and fucking dangerous. There are three lanes for one way of the traffic and for the other, so he has to analyze his surroundings every time he needs to change lanes.

His opponent is catching up behind, also dodging cars and trying to pass Jimin. But your boyfriend is prepared; he handles the steering wheel better. His vision is sharp, shifting between his mirror and in front of him quickly. He's an expert, a professional — the BMW has zero chance.

If it was daytime, you're sure an improvised race like this wouldn't even be conceivable, considering how packed the highway usually is, but during nighttime there are way less car on the road. It allows them to drive more freely and fluidly. It's still very risky, but you love the adrenaline rushing through your body, love how intoxicating it is.

Jimin's grip tightens around the wheel, veins popping out along his strong arms. He looks so good with jewelry, wearing a few silver rings on his fingers and a watch around his wrist. You catch a glimpse of the thirteen tattoo inked on his skin, being the date of his birthday and also the number he races with.

"Jimin... what if there's a cop?" You say worryingly.

He grins, as if this can't be a problem at all. "Then this jackass gonna chicken out," he snickers, pressing down on the accelerator with his right foot. "Look at this," he says, holding the steering wheel with a lot of force so the car doesn't drive off the road. You look forward, seeing the BMW getting ahead.

Jimin puts on the turn signal to the right as they're getting closer to an industry truck and a van. There's a small gap separating them as they're both on different lanes, a gap just big enough for the Porsche.

Your eyes widen, pulse racing faster, hearing your heartbeat in your head. It's like your heart is going to explode or come out of your chest at how intense everything feels. It's addicting.

Jimin accelerates and passes by his opponent, sneaking between the too big vehicles, keeping the turn signal on as he maneuvers his way through the small gap. Your breath is caught in your throat as he does so, holding the handle tighter and tighter, scrunching your eyes shut, believing deeply in Jimin's skills...

"Oh my fucking god," he exhales heavily as if he was also holding in his breath. This is your cue to open your eyes again, nothing in front of you, meaning Jimin has succeeded. You hear him laugh, smiling with his full set of teeth. "Fucking loser!"

You glance at him, stars in your eyes and glinting in pure admiration. You find him extremely attractive, even more than he already is. You burst out in laughter too, incapable of keeping it in, finally stressing down.

You look over your shoulder and the BMW is stuck behind the truck and the van, the space now too small to pass through. Jimin won.

He has a big arrogant smirk on his face, one hand on the wheel as he licks his lips, trapping his bottom lip between his teeth after. You know he's proud of himself, and you have to admit that you are impressed.

"That was sick!" You squeal and giggle, your heart still pounding in your chest, but eventually slowing down to a normal pace. "Minnie, it was- I... Oh, God! Awesome, it was awesome!"

He chuckles as you struggle to get the words out, absolutely surprised, but in a really good way. You lack the words to describe how you're feeling and how the whole thing was just so thrilling. The adrenaline is such a strong hormone that you still haven't recovered from the race. You'll remember this one for a very long time, that's for sure.

"It was like a rollercoaster!" You say with a lot of excitement, looking at Jimin while he has his eyes settled in front of him, soon reaching your destination.

"I knew you'd like this," he flashes you a smile, glancing in your direction for a short second. "You're a little rebel, aren't you?"

"My boyfriend's a bad boy, of course I like a bit of danger..." You flirt, making Jimin laugh again.

When the car comes to a halt, you immediately unbuckle your seatbelt and jump on Jimin, not caring if you're in the parking lot of his apartment building. You straddle his lap and your entire body is on fire. You didn't realize the race made you that horny to the point you can't even wait to be in his apartment to start fucking him.

You kiss him and he reciprocates it right away, moving his mouth over yours hungrily. You cup his cheeks and begin to rock your hips back and forth, grinding down on Jimin. He bites your lip which makes you whine softly, pulling on his dark locks at the nape of his neck.

His hands lay on your hips, guiding you over his lap, pushing your bottom down on him to intensify the grinding motion. The steering wheel sometimes pokes you in the back, but you don't pay it any attention, kissing every patch of skin on Jimin's face, descending to his sharp jaw.

You're both breathing heavily, the small binnacle of the luxury car beginning to be really restricted in air. Though, it doesn't stop you, not at all.

You smooch the side of his throat, sensing his Adam's apple bobbing every time he swallows. You want to lick and kiss every part of his body, you need it — you need to feel his smooth skin under your tongue.

Jimin smells like his favourite body wash, a scent so manly and tingly it turns you feral on its own. He's a bit sweaty now so you have the salty taste of his natural essence on your tongue, feeling how warm his body is just after an eventful race.

You slightly chew on his flesh and suck on it, wanting to mark him even more in beautiful purple love bites, adding on with the traces of your lipstick. He groans under you, tilting his head back so you have better access to his neck.

He palms your butt under your short skirt, making you grind on him more avidly. Your panties start to get wet, the material sticking to your pussy lips because of your arousal gushing out of your cunt. You're so turned on it has your brain all mushy, no thoughts other than ones about Jimin and how good he's going to feel inside of you.

Then he pulls you back by your hair, your lips leaving the crook of Jimin's neck, eyes strained down on him since he forces your head back. Your hands clasp around his t-shirt, crumpling it between your little fists.

"What's that, baby, hm?" He questions, squinting his eyes at you. You think he's referring to your eagerness, taking control without really realizing it.

"Sorry, but please..."

"That cunt's too fucking greedy, is that it?" He lifts a brow, cupping your pussy through your panties with the hand not gripping your hair. "What a little slut you are... Soaking through your underwear already?" He mocks, gliding the tip of his finger over your core, feeling how damp the material is.

You decide you better be honest, knowing a little begging always makes Jimin fold. "Yes, want you so bad, Minnie," you breathe out while humping his hand as he keeps his palm over your crotch and he enjoys how you're so desperate to the point of chasing his touch. "Need you in my pussy, need your cock to feel me up, please," you beg sweetly, clawing at his t-shirt. "Please, Minnie, please."

He observes you for a while, frowning a bit as his pretty head is reflecting, maybe asking himself if he should give you what you want or not. You let out a whine — a pathetic one — and you know that's what finally convinces him.

"Want my cock?" He asks and you nod repeatedly, still holding on his shirt like it's the only thing keeping you from falling miserably into the depth of lust. "Then fucking take it, baby," he growls lowly, biting down on his plump bottom lip, pupils blown out.

You sigh in relief, babbling out a little grateful 'thank you' as you lower your hands to his pants. He looks down at your shaky hands, a faint smirk appearing on his lips. His hand that was previously on your cunt has shifted to your thighs, caressing your curves, admiring your body that looks so frail and easy to break.

Oh, he does know how simple it is to turn you into a slutty mess, drooling and crying like a baby to have his dick, not caring in which hole it goes as long as it's nestled in you.

You yank the zipper down and work on getting his baggy jeans down his thighs. Jimin's still watching you, not bothering to give you a helping hand, quite finding it adorable how you struggle so much.

When you free his cock out of his Armani boxer briefs, you gasp softly at the sight of his semi-hard lying against his toned stomach. "Always so big, Minnie," you tease, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip.

And it's true. He's average, just the right length for you, but the thickness, gosh it makes you salivate. The girth isn't talked about enough because that's the thing that has you crying tears of joy when his cock splits you open, the burning sensation always a plus to your pleasure.

You love it that he doesn't shave, seeing him in all his glory, dark pubic hair decorating his pelvis. His mushroom tip peeks out from under his foreskin, your mouth watering at the thought of having it in your mouth and twirling your pink muscle around it, tasting the little beads of pre-cum on your warm tongue.

"Stop kissing my ass," he laughs, smacking one of your ass cheeks. You giggle, though you're really being honest. He's stupidly girthy, not to mention the size of his balls that never miss to slap the skin of your butt whenever he fucks you in missionary.

"I love kissing your ass, though. You deserve it, Minnie," you flatter, showing him how much you love him and his pretty cock.

"Shut up," he suddenly rasps out, taking a hold of your jaw with one hand, deft fingers poking into your chubby cheeks and making your lips purse out. "Wanna fuck that cock or not?" You mumble a 'yes' through your squished face. "Get to work, then."

He lets go of you as you grip his cock, small hand barely fitting around the girth, giving him a few lazy pumps to get him completely hard. You hum when you feel him stiff under your palm, a bit of pre-cum leaking from the slit over his swollen tip.

You smear it with your thumb, twisting your wrist as you run your hand up and down his length languidly. You spit in your hand and bring it back down to his cock, coating him in your saliva.

You slip your panties down, wiggling in every direction to get them out of the way and finally throw them away on the back seats. You smile at the thought of Jimin finding them later, remembering this filthy night, dick swelling at the dirty images of you riding him in his car.

"Want it on my pussy..." You sweetly purr, directing the head of his cock to your cunt, pressing it down on your clit. You steady yourself by placing a hand on his shoulder, the other circling your bud of nerves with his leaky tip. "Want your hot cum on my dirty little pussy," you tease again, using the same words he likes telling you in his sultry voice, so deep and raspy, making shivers run down your spine.

His dark eyes lift up from your hand guiding his cock in smooth circles over your puffy, aching clit and looks at you, catching the way you trap your bottom lip between your teeth. You see that he loves the idea you've just planted in his brain, wanting to cover your nasty cunt in his cum so bad.

"Fucking whore," he says under his breath, jaw hanging open. His hands roam over your body, often groping your ass cheeks or sneaking under your crop top, touching the underside of your breasts.

You move your hips in circle motions as well, stimulating your sensitive clit with the head of his cock, so warm and pleasant against your pussy.

"Am I your favourite one, though?" You pout.

He grins, letting out a low chuckle, "Of course, and the only one." At that, a lewd moan escapes your mouth and you start humping Jimin's dick, wet pussy lips gliding over his erection. "Hmm, that's it, baby," he encourages, hands on your hips as you move more frantically over him, covering him in your slicks.

Your breath is irregular, chasing your high with fervour, moaning obscenely above Jimin. "Gonna cum," you announce hastily, the rub of your clit against his cock driving you over the edge really quickly. Plus, you were already turned on, so your orgasm isn't far away, the knot in your stomach unraveling.

"Go ahead, cum on my cock, baby girl," he softly commands as if his permission was the only thing you needed to finally see stars. He grips your hips as you open your mouth, silent whimpers and moans coming out.

"Yes, yes, Minnie," you chant as you hump his cock, thighs and hands shaking. Your clitoral orgasm passes through you, bucking your hips forward while you slowly drive off your high. "Fuck, fuck..." You cry, letting go of his member and hiding your face in the crook of his neck for comfort.

He gently caresses your back in circles, helping you calm down and come back to earth. "Good job," he coos in your ear. "What a big girl. Rubbing your pussy all over my cock and cumming without my help," Jimin praises, patting your ass that peeks out from under your short skirt.

You only whimper in response, coming back to reality. You push yourself off Jimin's chest, looking at him with a pout on your lips. He knows it's fake, just to persuade him to do whatever you're going to ask him.

"Put it in, please," you beg in a whiny voice, "Need your big cock in me, Jimin." You sweetly pamper his face in warm kisses, knowing he never resists them. "Please, please, please."

He sighs, feeling your lips pressing down on his smooth skin, leaving his face all red and damp from your teasing little kisses. He gropes your thighs, slapping one of them as you arch your back like a slut.

"Take it then," he growls, gripping his cock and directing the head toward your dripping entrance. "Show me how bad you want it, my stupid girl," he purrs in your ear, cock head swiping between your pussy lips.

You eagerly bob your head, trapping your bottom lip between your teeth as you look down where you slowly sink down Jimin's thick length. You gasp softly when the head of his cock stretches out your cunt, expending it to his large size.

You continue to sink further down, hearing the groans and moans of your boyfriend, gripping your hips and digging his fingers into your flesh. You love the familiar burning sensation, reminding you that his cock is pushing into you, connecting both of your bodies and souls.

When you're finally sitting on his lap, dick nestled in the comfort of your warmth, clit touching his pubes, it feels exhilarating, almost too good to be true. Despite having been in you so many times before, neither one of you are getting used to the incredible sensation of being so close to each other, so connected.

"So big, Jimin," you moan softly, slowly moving your hips back and forth, doing grinding motions. "Love it so much," you mewl, holding onto his shoulders.

He looks down, too, and sees a shiny dew coating his pubic hair, your arousal leaking down his balls and pelvis. It's beautiful, a strong odour of sex invading the interior of the car.

"Yeah, baby?" He questions, voice a little breathy. "Love having my cock in you? Splitting your tight little cunt open?" He now gropes your ass, liking how the two small globes of flesh fit in his calloused palms.

"Uh-huh," you agree and drag your hips up, cock slipping out of your wet pussy, his meaty length glistening in your sweet juices. You yank them back down, creating a new motion, bouncing up and down his stiff erection.

You ride his cock in his car, steering wheel sometimes knocking your back as you vividly jump on his dick, but it isn't a major bother to you, not at all. Nothing's more important to you now than to fuck Jimin and feel his cock deep into you.

"It's so thick," you babble out, mouth staying open as little moans escape you. It makes Jimin groan hearing you say how his girthy cock destroys your tiny pussy, seeing it with his own eyes, pussy enveloping his shaft.

He loves knowing you like a bit of pain, willing to go through it to after reach a high level of pleasure. "Cock whore," he grunts, smacking your ass, the skin stinging because of the rings adorning his fingers.

You keep bouncing on him, wanting to make this as pleasurable as possible for him, but you know your legs will soon be tired. Though, you don't give up, and ride Jimin like your life depends on it.

You sense his fingers dancing on your butt, reaching your tight hole under your skirt. It surprises you, a little high-pitched moan leaving your mouth, but you don't say no — never would you.

He teases your rim, deft fingers circling it, making you arch your back and lean into his warm touch. You start grinding over his lap again, desperate to reach your high and feel his cock head brushing against your sweet spot inside you.

Jimin pushes his thumb at your hole while you roll your hips over his with vigour, literally using him for your pleasure. He doesn't mind, though, and penetrates your other entrance with his finger. You let out a loud moan, always loving it when Jimin fills you up everywhere.

"Gosh, I'm so close, Minnie..." You announce, rutting your hips against his and crumpling his t-shirt between your small fists.

"Keep going, baby, keep going," he encourages, holding the fat of your hips and guiding them over his hard cock. "Cum for me, my sweet girl."

"Yes, yes," you chant, his dick repeatedly nudging your sensitive spot, making the knot in your stomach tighten. "For you... Gonna cum for you, Minnie," you say before finally feeling it explode in your belly, millions of tingles passing through your entire body.

Your thighs shake beside his, rolling your hips fast over his lap to drive off your intense high. With trembling limbs, you slowly lift up your butt, discovering his length coating in your milky and shiny release.

Jimin groans in satisfaction, staring at his dick with adoration in his eyes. He slaps your ass, praising you for your good job a second time.

"What about you clean that mess off, hm?" He proposes, raising his gaze up to your glossy eyes. You bite down on your lip, the idea eliciting another wave of arousal in you. "Gonna lick it off and make me cum with that pretty mouth of yours, baby?"

With a nod of your head, you get out of the car, stepping on the cement of the indoor parking lot. Jimin lets the driver's door open as he leans his back against the car, telling you to come over with a tilt of his head.

You kneel in front of him, your naked knees lying on the cold ground, thighs sticky with your cum and pussy completely bare, feeling the air hitting it. You grip his pants, looking up at him with puppy eyes, silently asking for permission to touch his pretty cock, shining in your natural essence.

"Lift up your top," he orders, holding his thick length in his right hand. You do so and it seems to satisfy Jimin, a little appreciative growl leaving his throat. "Perfect, you can touch it, baby," he sends you the green light and you happily comply.

You replace his hand with yours, your fingers barely wrapping all the way around the base. You stroke it gently, feeling your slick slipping between your fingers, and look up at Jimin, making sure you're doing this alright.

Jimin sees that you're seeking compliments, a smile tugging on his pretty, plump pink lips. "Doing great, princess. Don't be shy, put your tongue on it," he instructs, your head bobbing to show your agreement.

You stick out your pink muscle and lean down to put it on his swollen tip, swallowing his bulbous head in after. Your lips wrap around him, tasting yourself on your tongue.

You sat prettily on your knees, wearing your white sneakers as your little ass peeks out from underneath your jean skirt, taking more of his length into your greedy mouth. You scoot yourself closer, wanting the tip of your nose to touch the patch of dark hair crowning his pelvis.

Jimin moans above you, gripping your hair in a tight hold as you sink down on him. Your wish is granted, having the entirety of his cock in your mouth, his tip teasing the back of your throat.

"Fuck, play with your tits for me, baby," he breathily commands, hooded eyes staring down at you. You flutter your eyes at him, executing yourself and rolling your nipples under your palms. You much prefer it when it's Jimin's hands, but you'll do without them this time.

You pull your head back, him watching his cock reappear between your lips, then disappear when you sink back down. You pinch your nipples, making them even harder, the cold air turning them extra stiffer.

You bounce your head over his engorged cock, hearing him moan and groan, an erotic melody to your ears. You choke a bit around him, Jimin delighted to see spit dripping down from the corners of your mouth, greedily taking him in your warmth.

"That's it, baby. Shit, such a good girl for me," he moans, voice husky and sultry. "Make me cum with that slutty little mouth," he insists, lust dancing in his dark orbs, looking at you like you're the very own object of his deepest desires. And you are.

You hum around him, groping your breasts while sucking him off, his strong hand gripping your hair at the roots, making your scalp itch. It sends delicious vibrations through the entirety of Jimin's body, a shiver running up his spine as you take him deep into your throat.

You hollow your cheeks and swallow around his length like you know he loves, hearing his little moans of approval above you. "Christ, baby... Gonna cum, keep going," he warns you and you're pleased to know you're making him feel really good.

You flatten your tongue under his heavy cock, bobbing your head over his stiff erection, pulling and pinching on your hard nipples. Jimin doesn't look away from you once, so turned on by your little fingers playing with your tits and your kneeling form sucking him off.

Suddenly, he keeps your head in place over his cock, forcing you down on him, nose pressed down against his hairy pelvis. You look up at him with teary eyes, feeling them sting. A crease appears between his soft eyebrows, mouth opening as he looks out deep and soft moans.

Jimin cums down your throat, cock twitching and shooting his release in thick, long ropes inside your mouth. You whine around him, wiggling your ass, happy to finally taste him.

"Fuuck," he breathes out, the muscles of his thighs tensing. He pulls out quickly, stroking his cock fast, angling it down toward your naked boobs.

You gasp softly, swallowing thickly to ease your poor throat, feeling his hot and creamy cum landing on your chest. He milks himself dry, moaning as small white beads spurt out his tip and fall on your beautiful tits.

Jimin exhales heavily, his head lolling back on his shoulders. He closes his eyes for a few seconds, catching his breath. He holds his hand out for you to take and pull you up from the ground. He tucks himself back in his briefs and zips his jeans back up as you lean down to kiss him on the lips, giggling joyfully after.

Jimin helps you clean up the mess he made on you with the spare box of tissues he keeps in his car. You pull down your top, covering your breasts.

The vehicle beeps and the front lights flashes as he clicks twice on the button to lock the doors. You walk to the elevator hand in hand, ready to go back into Jimin's apartment with a cute afterglow shining on both your faces.

[vodika-vibes]

Can you please do Blue Daisy and Anemone for Crosshair with a Bounty Hunter Reader? I really love your stories, you're doing amazing!

For The Love Of A Sniper

Summary: You're a Bounty Hunter and Crosshair is your partner in every way. And when your family threatens you, Crosshair offers to deal with it.

Pairing: TBB Crosshair x F!Reader

Word Count: 1234

Warnings: Crosshair is soft

Prompts: Blue Daisy - Long Term Loyalty, Anemone - Undying Love

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: I hope this is close to what you wanted, I was going to make this a sequel to my recent Crosshair series, but I had a better idea!

When you were a little girl, your parents planned your life almost to the minute. You were ferried from school to dance lessons or music lessons or voice lessons or language lessons. Every second of free time had to be accounted for.

You didn’t have time for friends, and barely had time for family.

Your parents also planned your outfits, frilly dresses in pastel colors and your hair meticulously curled every morning, and then styled with bows and ribbons. And shoes that were so uncomfortable that, on more than one occasion, you considered cutting your toes off so it would hurt less.

Even your schools were devoted to making you the best daughter. High end boarding schools with even more high end finishing classes, with the end goal of sending you to Naboo to attend Theeds Law School.

Perfection was the expectation.

And you were never perfect.

The day that your parents dropped you off at Law School, you dropped out. You managed to get the school to send the refund, nearly 3 million credits total, to your personal bank account, and then you spent a massive chunk of money cutting and dying your hair, and then buying a new wardrobe. 

Within a week of your parents dropping you off on Naboo, you were gone.

That was four years ago. And over the last four years, you’ve made something of a name for yourself as a bounty hunter. You have your own ship, painted vibrant purple and named Spoiler, and you often bounce between cargo delivery and Bounty Hunting, based on what is the most profitable at the time.

Sometimes you do both at the same time, just for funsies.

And you know, because you’ve seen it, your name is plastered on missing persons lists and on bounty boards. Too bad that you don’t look anything like the cherub looking girl on the posters anymore. 

In fact, the only person who might recognize you as the girl in the poster is your boyfriend. And even then, only because you told him. 

Speaking of said boyfriend-

You hang your body armor on the rack in the cargo hold, and climb the stairs to the main part of the ship. You slide open the door to the bedroom, and grin at the man stretched out on the bed. “You ever planning on getting up, handsome?”

Crosshair seems to stretch out even more, and he tucks his arms under his head, his dark eyes locked on your face, “I thought I’d be lazy today,” He drawls, “You could join me.”

You lean against the doorframe, a small smile on your lips. He really is too handsome. Especially lounging in your bed wearing nothing but the dark sweatpants that you bought him. He looks healthy, finally, having put some weight on now that he’s no longer with the Empire.

“See something you like, doll?”

You grin at him, lazy and slow, “I see something that’s mine.” You tease.

Crosshair chuckles and shifts to free one arm, “Come here, princess.” He almost purrs. And, really, how are you expected to deny that request?

You kick your boots off and climb on the bed to drape yourself across his chest. You take a moment to press a light kiss just over his heart, before you slide up to tuck your head against his neck. “Did you sleep well?”

“Mm, I did.” He wraps an arm around your shoulder and presses a light kiss to the top of your head, “And then I got an alert-” He uses his free hand to grab the datapad on the side of the bed, “Someone put a flag on all accounts attached to your old name.”

“Another one?” You roll slightly so you’re able to see the screen, and then you sigh, “This is, what, number five? Six?”

“Eight in the last six months.” Crosshair corrects.

“Well, following the money is step one in the ‘how to find someone who doesn’t want to be found’ handbook, I suppose.” You mutter under your breath as you roll again and fold your arms on his chest.

“You would know, wouldn’t you, princess.”

“It’s fine. It’s not like those accounts are attached to my name anymore.” You reply as you look down at his face, “Which is a shame, there’s nearly 3 million credits in that account.”

Crosshair reaches up and slides his fingers across your cheek, “Those credits have so many strings attached, you might as well be a puppet.”

“Mm, don’t I know it.” You lean in and kiss him gently, “Luckily, they won’t find me. And 3 million credits is a lot less than I would pay to never be their perfect little doll ever again.”

His eyes glitter, “Even if they did, if you think I’m giving you up without a fight-”

A soft laugh falls from your lips, “Aww, I knew you loved me.”

His lips curl up into an amused smile, “You’re alright, I suppose.” In spite of his light, teasing, words his hand tightly clutches at your hip. 

You shift and press feather light kisses across his face, “I’m not going anywhere. Not willingly.” You whisper to him.

His grip loosens slightly, “Of course not. You’d never find anyone as good as I am.” His hand slithers up your side to grip the collar of your shirt between two strong fingers, and he pulls you down to crash your lips against his. “We do, however,” He murmurs after a moment, “have to deal with this.”

“Can’t we ignore it?” You whine.

“You know we can’t.” He finally moves his other arm from under his head, and he wraps it tightly around you, “Let me handle it.”

You nervously bite your lower lip, “I don’t know-”

“I’m not going to hand you in,” Crosshair murmurs, as gentle with your anxieties regarding your family as you are with his anxiety about you leaving, “My loyalty is to you. Now and forever.”

You sigh, “I know. I just don’t like you going off on your own.” You kiss him quickly, and then press a longer, slower, kiss against his lips, “I never wanted to demand your loyalty.”

“You never had to.” There’s something soft and vulnerable in his gaze, and you think you love him a little more for it, “You didn’t expect my loyalty like my brothers.” He kisses you just under your eyes, “And you never demanded it like the Empire.” He drags his lips across the bridge of your nose, “You were loyal to me, so I became loyal to you.”

“That might be the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.” You say warmly.

He rolls his eyes, “Then how’s this? I love you. Forever. Until there’s no more breath in my lungs. Until my heart beats it last.”

You press your forehead against his, “You’re going to make me cry and mess up my make-up.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll never say anything so gross ever again.” He jokes. “What do you say, Princess? Trust me to handle this?”

“Deal. You can handle it, and I’ll just…hang out in the ship for you.”

“Deal.” He pulls you back into a deep kiss, “Later though. For now you’re on top of me and won’t stop squirming-” You release a bubbly laugh as he flips the pair of you and pins you to the bed, “Really, you brought this on yourself, princess.”

[deathmetalunicorn1]

RoR characters reacting to reader who casually walk out of the house, all dressed up while shouting, "I'm having my dinner with my date, don't save me a plate and don't wait for me! I be back before 10!" Did this to my dad and he literally chase me for confirmation on what he heard 😅

-Dress, on! Makeup, done! Hair, fabulous! Time for your hot date!

-You head downstairs, smiling brightly as you adjust your purse over your shoulder, passing by the massive living room where your weird but loveable giant adoptive family was, at least where most of them were.

-You didn’t see the doubletakes as you walked by, opening the door before turning, “I’m going out with C/N! I’ll be home by ten! Bye~~” you quickly step out and shut the door, trying to make it down the sidewalk as quickly as possible.

-A faint ominous rumbling was heard from within your home before the front door burst open and you heard at least three different voices shout out, “Hold it right there young lady!!”

-You turn, a weak grin on your face as Loki, Adam, Hades, and Tesla approached, demanding that you repeat what you said.

-You didn’t see anything wrong with it, as you’ve gone out with C/N plenty of times, “We’re going on a date.” They didn’t care for C/N mainly because he was a boy spending alone time with their precious princess, but seeing you dress up, more than normal compared to other dates you went on before, they didn’t agree with this plan of yours.

-After several of your other parental or sibling-esque family members defended you that you were smart and knew how to fight, you were able to go on your date, after they had to grab the four men who had rejected this outfit to hold them from running after you.

-You arrived home two minutes after ten, Adam and Hades were ready to sound the alarm for a search party to find out where C/N had taken their baby before you walked in, completely fine.

-Eve and Goll inquired about your date and you told them that you and C/N went out to eat, then to a movie, seeing the new fantasy movie that was out, before walking through the park while holding hands.

-Hades picked up his weapon, fury around him as Adam grabbed his knuckledusters, something Reginleif got for him, as they prepared to hunt C/N down for doing something as vile as holding your hand while you tried to keep them from leaving the house, begging them not to hurt C/N.

-Odin was the only calm one, as most didn’t notice that Muninn had been missing for most of the night, having watching you from afar and everything you said was the truth, so he wasn’t bothered.

-You said your goodnights with Odin being the last one, with you pecking his cheek in passing, whispering to him, “Thanks for keeping an eye on me.” he said nothing, but you saw the corners of his mouth tilt up slightly, amused that he had been found out, but he was happy to know that you were way more observant than you let on.

[darkened-writer]

02| Generous Heart

summary || ❝She would not need a knight to protect her, or a handmaiden to serve her, but a friend to trust. ❞

pairing || Rhaenyra Targaryen x Female! Reader

word count || 4,460

warnings || Minor violence and Tension

notes || High Valyrian is in italics. Enjoy!

“Ser Ryam was a strong Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. But he was ill for some time. He passed in peace, I hope.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

Rhaenyra was dressed clad in a beautiful white outfit, necklace adorned on her neck and jankily ring hung off of her left hand, middle finger. She poured wine with a vigor of someone who would rather be sat at the table, discussing matters as a political figure instead of serving them. You however, just stood at your post along the far side of the table, waiting for an order from the Princess or an order from the King. Though, you were more inclined to do anything Rhaenyra asked of you, regardless of the moral ambiguity of it. 

“He was found to have passed gently in his sleep. His remains are being prepared by the Silent Sisters. The succeeding Lord Commander, Ser Harrold, would like to make haste in finding Ser Ryam’s replacement on the Kingsguard.”

“Your Grace. My Lords. The Kingsguard must soon be restored to its full complement of seven. With the help of the Hand, I’ve invited a number of fine candidates to court. All have passed fair trials.”

The door to the council room suddenly opened, everyone's attention being drawn to Lord Corlys who marched into the room and up the few stairs with a mission.

“Four ships have now been lost. The last one was flying my banner. The Stepstones have now grown into a conflagration, yet you sit here and dither about court business.”

“If you’ve something to discuss, Lord Corlys–”

“I want to know what is to be done about my ships and my men.”

“The Crown will compensate you for your ship and crew and make an offering to the men’s families.”

“I don’t want compensation.” He growled, “I want to seize the Stepstones by force and burn out this Crabfeeder.”

“I am not prepared to start a war with the Free Cities.”

“These pirates are not the Free Cities.”

“Who do you think provides them with their ships and tender?”

“In all of its history, my lord, the Seven Kingdoms have never entered open war with the Free Cities. Were that to happen, the losses would be incalculable.”

Corlys took a few steps towards the lord defending the King, “What reason does the Crabfeeder have to fear us? The King’s own brother has been allowed to seize Dragonstone and fortify it with an army of his gold cloaks. Daemon has squatted there for over half a year without even a protest from the Crown.”

“I’ll caution you, Lord Corlys, a seat at the King’s table does not make you his equal.”

His expression changed, before he moved from his looming spot towards Otto Hightower, before being stopped by Viserys’ words. 

“I have acted, Corlys. I’ve sent envoys to Pentos and Volantis to see if we might find common cause.”

Rhaenyra was strangely still, looking as if she was pondering a deep thought. 

“Ships and men are at the ready. The Stepstones will be settled in time.”

“You have dragonriders, father.”

The whole room perked up including yourself, feeling a sense of pride watching Rhaenyra speak her mind. 

“Send us.”

“It isn’t that simple, Rhaenyra.”

“It would be a show of force.”

“At least the Princess has a plan.” Viserys scowled.

“I only meant that we could at least–”

“Perhaps, there’s some better use for the Princess’s talents, Your Grace.”

Rhaenyra’s expression shifted immediately at Otto’s comment, “Why don’t you take the Princess to see about the new Kingsguard posting, Lord Commander?”

He nods, “A fine idea, Your Grace.”

“This knight will protect you as well. You should choose.”

“But Y/N is more than enough. Why would I need a Knight?”

Rhaenyra’s eyes were on you now and you straightened your back, peering at Viserys’. He looked to be in thought just as Rhaenyra was previously, but The Lord Commander spoke up.

“Perhaps I could teach your Handmaiden some sword skills to ease any worry?”

The thought was interesting to you, being able to protect the Princess was just one of the many duties you promised Aemma, so you’d hope the King would be enthusiastic. 

Rhaenyra nodded, looking almost pleadingly at her father, he nodded, “Y/N will learn some combat skills, but until she reaches some mastery in those skills. You will have a Knight to protect you.”

The girl looked satisfied with herself, beaconing you to her side before the Knights opened the doors to the Council Room to see the Princess out. Rhaenyra leaned heavily into your side, keeping closely with you as you walked, the Lord Commander behind the two of you. 

Boy would this be a fun evening. 

-

The courtyard was filled with various knights of differing houses and livelihoods. Seven in total, the mystery knight being stood without a flag to represent a house. Ser Criston Cole, if you remembered correctly, the Knight to best the “Rogue Prince ''. 

Rhaenyra stepped onto a small step stool to look up over the seven men, hands folded behind her back as a sign of power. The Lord Commander brought a figure of a creature and placed it upon a small looking stage.

“Ser Desmond Caron, a fine Knight, Princess. Step forward, Ser Desmond.”

The man looked terribly proud of himself, yourself knowing immediately that Rhaenyra would not choose him. She had standards and he would be no exception.

“Son of Ser Royce Caron, Ser Desmond has proved strong and steady in both the tourney lists and without. While traveling through the Kingswood on his way to King's Landing, Ser Desmond recently brought a would-be poacher to justice.”

Everyone was looking at Rhaenyra and yet she remained quiet, staring at Ser Desmond with a curious gaze, Otto leaned to her ear to speak.

“You might thank him for his leal service, Princess.”

“We thank you for your loyal service to The Crown, ser.”

He bowed his head, and she moved her gaze up to Rhaenys who was overseeing the whole exchange, before the bird statuette was moved to the little stage.

“Ser Rymun Mallister.”

He moved up to present himself, “Son of Lord Lymond Mallister of Seagard. Winner of the melee at Cinder Hall. He was the last mounted of three-and-twenty knights. Ser Rymun was knighted at eight-and-ten.”

“Do any of these knights have combat experience? Beyond capturing poachers.”

Her tone was mildly sarcastic, but the Lord Commander nodded and moved the plain, brown, statuette to the stage. Otto Hightower sighed, “Ser Criston Cole.”

The dark-haired knight walked up just like the two previous knights, dark eyes immediately finding Rhaenyra’s then mine. He was what the common girls would call a “Heart Throb'', and you yourself were a tad shy under his gaze.

“Son of the steward of the Lord of Blackhaven.”

“Be welcome, Ser Criston.” She was smiling, and suddenly the shy feeling you had was replaced by jealousy. There was a twinge of electricity between the two, and it was ever apparent that she was looking to have him as her knight, regardless of the other six there.

Ser Criston nods at Rhaenyra, “You saw combat in the Stormlands.”

“Dornish marches, Princess. I fought for a year as a foot soldier against the Dornish incursions. Ser Arlan Dondarrion knighted me after we razed two of the watchtowers along the Boneway.”

Impressive Bastard, you thought, watching Rhaenyra turn to the Lord Commander.

“I choose Ser Criston Cole.”

She stepped from the stepping stool with grace, “Let’s not be too hasty, Princess. There’s no doubt Ser Criston is a fine warrior, but houses such as Crakehall and Mallister are important allies of the Crown. Seagard, for instance, in the realm’s prime defense against reavers from the Iron Islands.”

“Those men are tourney knights.”

Your gaze found Rhaenys’, and she nodded at you with a respectable gaze, “My father should be defended by a man who’s known real combat. Should he not?”

The man was dejected, “Of course, Princess.”

“Well, let us plan Ser Criston’s investiture then. And get Y/N in with the knight’s training, she has a lot of work to do…” 

-

Just as Rhaenyra had said, you were now placed within knights training. Various men were around you, clad in chainmail and leather clutching swords as they slashed at dummies made to look like the enemy. The Lord Commander however wanted to do basic sparring with you, handing you a wooden sword for training, but the idea of actually handling a sword was daunting. 

The air was crisp and cold, sending odd tremors up your arms. The ground shifted as you dodged the wooden jabs from your superior, making him miss every hit but even you were scared to try and land an attack. 

“Shoulders back… left foot in front of the right, and always keep your sword in a ready position.”

You adjusted your form and let out a huff of air in frustration, the Targaryen ring from Aemma glimmering on your middle finger.

Keep going, you heard in your head, and you took a step forward to urge the Lord Commander to attack. When he went for a slash to your lower body, you leaned back and thrusted the wooden sword up into his abdomen, the man groaning in pain at the sudden move.

“I’m so sorry!” Your concerned tone made the man chuckle, his free hand now gripping his stomach, his face bright with a weird delight. Your face contorted in confusion, “Why are you laughing, Lord Commander?!”

“I’ll make a fine knight of you yet, Handmaiden Y/N. Just you wait…”

-

“How’d you find training, my Handmaiden?”

Your expression of pure exhaust had roused a laugh from the Princess, yet she asked you a question that could easily be answered by a look at your body. Bruises were flowering up along your arms, neck, torso, and legs. There was a dull ache up your whole back, and you could barely grasp the wine chalice you were handing Rhaenyra.

“Very well, Princess. Each bruise is a sign to my commitment I suppose.”

“It brings me great joy seeing you train…”

You perk up, “Were you watching me and the Lord Commander?”

She takes a graceful sip of her chalice before setting it down, “Of course. Don’t think too much of it…”

Before you could continue to make conversation, Viserys made his way into the room, hastily taking a seat at the dinner table and holding his chalice up to be filled. You ever so slowly filled his cup, holding in a yelp at the pain at even lifting your arm. The King however, brushed off your pained look and dug into his food, shooting Rhaenyra a curious gaze. 

It was very clear that the tensions between the two were high, ever since Aemma’s death, they really hadn’t spoken much. The moon shone subtly through the window, but the room was mostly lit by the many candles in the room. The flame moved every which way, almost as if dancing to a quiet hum of music. It was alluring to the eyes, and fascinating to look at. And the heat it emitted was making the room oddly stuffy; Was fire always this beautiful?

“We haven’t spoken much… since.”

“A regret of mine. We should be free to speak our minds to one another.”

“You can say whatever you’d like. You are the King.” The man snickered, before his face showed soleum.

“I loved your mother very much.”

The ring on your middle finger began to feel heavy again, the black stone shining as you looked down to peer at it. Not even aware of the tears welling up in your eyes. Rhaenyra was also emotional, nodding at her father’s statement, “As did I.”

The understanding between the two was apparent, their shared love for Aemma leaving them both vulnerable. After a brief moment of silence, they both resumed eating, and you leaned over the table to fill Viserys’s cup with wine once again. 

“Ser Harold provided a fine field of tourney knights.”

“Oh?”

“But in questioning them, I discovered that Ser Criston was the only man among them with true battle experience.”

The King stifled a laugh, “He’ll make a fine Knight of the Kingsguard.”

Silence ensued once again, “Today at Small Council–”

“Pay it no mind.”

“I thought I might have had some insight.”

“You’re young. You will learn.”

Rhaenyra leaned back in her chair and suddenly the situation was more awkward than bittersweet, the King’s plate was now empty, so you grabbed it and placed it on a wooden board you’d use to carry the dirty kitchenware to the kitchen. 

“If you excuse me, I have business to attend to, my daughter…” He rises from the table, and she looks up at him, “Please, enjoy more food, don’t stop on my account–”

“Good night, Father.”

“Good night.”

Viserys’ exits and Rhaenyra motions to the seat next to her, “Please sit… I don’t want to be alone.”

“I’d never let you feel alone, Princess.”

The plush seat was oddly comfortable, and you eased into it as Rhaenyra grabbed a plate and began to pile food onto it. Various Targaryen-based dishes, fruits, meats, and even vegetables. She made sure to include every bit of food she could onto the plate before setting it in front of you, a satisfied smile on her face.

“Eat! When could anyone say they’ve shared a meal with Targaryen royal blood, Hm?”

She was playful, and you couldn’t hold in the smile painted on your face.

“What an honor…”

-

The very next day, you woke up to train with the Lord Commander once again. He was kind and forgiving as you messed up and gave you proper advice on how to get better. Even giving you your first sword to carry around with you. The steel was as shiny as the rubies encrusted into the pommel of the blade; leather wrapped along the handle. It was a bit heavy, but the Commander assured you that you would grow strong over time and the blade would begin to feel weight-less in your palm. You could only hope that strength would come easy.

What surprised you however was the random small council meeting that was called, ending your training early as you had to find Rhaenyra and take your place within the room to wait for her orders. You arrived in the room before her, Viserys’ nodding at you with a smile, obviously seeing the sword hung from your hip.

“It occurred in the blackness of night, my lords, during the hour of the Bat.”

Rhaenyra entered the room promptly as the Dragon Keeper began to speak, folding her hands behind her back and giving you a small smile, which you promptly returned.

“The thief eluded our pursuit.”

“How is it possible that a dragon’s egg was stolen out from beneath more than fifty Dragonkeepers?”

“It was Prince Daemon who was the culprit, Your Grace…”

“Daemon.”

“The Prince left a missive, which I believe might explain.”

The unraveling of paper, “It is the pleasure of Daemon Targaryen, the Prince of Dragonstone and rightful heir to the Iron Throne, to announce that he is to take a second wife in the tradition of Old Valyria. She is to assume the title Lady Mysaria of Dragonstone. Her Grace is with child and is to have a dragon’s egg placed in the babe’s cradle in the custom of House Targaryen.”

Rhaenyra and Viserys’ share a gaze, “The Prince has invited you to his wedding, Your Grace. It is in two days’ time.”

“Gods be good.”

“Who is Lady Mysaria?”

“We believe–”

“Daemon’s whore.” Otto Hightower exclaims the title with disgust, “This is nothing less than sedition.”

“I strongly agree, sire.”

“My brother wishes to provoke me. To answer is to give him what he wants.”

“The realm is watching, Your Grace.”

“What would you have me do? Send him to the wall? Perhaps I could put his head on a spike.”

“Daemon has seized Dragonstone, has surrounded himself with an army of gold cloaks, and has now stolen a dangerous weapon.”

Rhaenyra utters a Valyrian phrase, making the whole room turn to her, eyes watching like hungry vultures circling a corpse. But Rhaenyra was far from dead.

“Which egg did Daemon take?”

The Dragonkeeper thinks for a moment, “The egg was Dreamfyre’s, Princess. The same that you chose for Prince Baelon’s cradle.”

You visibly tensed, watching Rhaenyra clench her jaw and Viserys’ look distressed somewhat internally. The egg was to be for Aemma’s son, who was in the afterlife with her. The absolute nerve of the rogue prince, it set your blood aflame. 

“Assemble a detachment, Otto.” Viserys’ arose from his seat, “I will go to Dragonstone and drag Daemon back to face justice myself.”

“Your Grace.” Otto stopped Viserys in his tracks.

“My apologies, Your Grace, but I cannot allow it. It’s too dangerous. Daemon is without limit. Let me go to Dragonstone.”

Though Viserys’ had desired to go himself, he reluctantly agreed to let his hand deal with Daemon and Dragonstone. You, however, knew that Rhaenyra would not allow that to happen so finding her setting up Syrax for a ride the next day was not a surprise. She was wearing her usual outfit for dragon riding, except her face wasn’t painted with an enthusiastic smile, it was determined.

“Princess?”

The girl turned to her handmaiden, gently clutching Syrax’s wing.

“Y/N.. You mustn’t tell anyone about me leaving for Dragonstone–”

“I want to come with you.”

Once determined, now confused, “Come…with… me…?”

“Yes, I may not have experience with fighting yet, but I can be of help to you! If you’ll… let me.” The Princess gazed at the handmaiden she had grown a fond liking to and moved a bit to the side. She motioned for the saddle atop Syrax, and taking it as an order, you climbed up the dragon and settled on the saddle, awaiting Rhaenyra.

“Have you ever been dragon riding, my Handmaiden?”

“There is a first time for everything…?” Rhaenyra laughed, taking a firm seat finally on the saddle, in front of you.

“Hold onto my waist and do NOT let go. It’s a quick ride…”

“Okay but what do we do when we get ther–” Syrax shot up into the air suddenly with a roar of glory and the pair of you were now up in the air, getting closer and closer to the clouds.

-

It took a bit, but you finally settled from the fear of being so high up in the air. The winds were whisking yours and Rhaenyra’s hair every-which-way, but your hands stayed planted on her waist, feeling every single breath in and out from her diaphragm. It became peaceful, being an arm’s length from heaven, just above the clouds, and you knew the rumor of Targaryen’s being close to heaven may have not just been a rumor.

Rhaenyra seemed pleased also that Syrax took a liking to you, noting that Syrax didn’t even like the Dragonkeepers, so thank the lucky stars the dragon could bear your company. 

“We’re almost there…! Hold on tight!”

Your grip got tighter as the view of Dragonstone finally came, and with it, the current situation. Daemon was on one side while Otto Hightower was on the other, the divide being very obvious. But your eyes landed on the dragon just on the ridge overlooking the whole thing, Caraxes, Daemon’s beautiful beast. A creature fit for a man so misunderstood.

Syrax circled the bridge where the commotion was happening and flapped its wings as it was set to land behind the two opposing sides. Rhaenyra and yourself reared a bit at the landing, but your eyes locked with the Rogue Prince, Rhaenyra’s eyes on the Dragon egg in his clutches.

“Let me go down first, I’ll help you down..”

The Princess climbed down with exceeding skill and held her arms open for you to climb down, catching you as you lost your footing, and setting you right on your balance. You obediently followed her as she made her way to get to Daemon, the knights parting for her like the clouds for Dragon’s wings. Heads bowed and smiles were passed her way, but she continued her walking with haste. 

“Ser Criston, please escort the Princess to safety.”

“What are you doing here, Princess?”

“Preventing bloodshed.”

“Take care not to startle Syrax, my lords. She’s rather protective of me. My handmaiden, stay here and wait for me to finish my business with my Uncle.”

“Of course, Princess.”

She continued to walk, leaving you in the company of Otto Hightower and Ser Criston Cole. She eventually made her way into full conversation with her deranged uncle, and you kept your hand on the pommel of your sword.

“A protector is always ready to go into battle for the one they oversee.”

“Why did you accompany the Princess, Handmaiden? Wouldn’t you be far more useful tending to her quarters?”

Your sharp gaze turned to the knights behind you, smiles on their faces and yet yours didn’t look so amused. “Wouldn’t you be far more useful shoveling manure?”

Various snickers of knights reacting to your comeback, even Ser Criston cracking a smile at your attitude. However, you were just trying to listen in on what the two Targaryen’s were speaking about, knowing that you should possibly brush up on your knowledge of the High Valyrian language.

“I’m right here, Uncle, the object or your ire, the reason that you were disinherited. If you wish to be restored as heir, you’ll need to kill me. So, do it. And be done with all this bother.”

She was surely cocky, but his gaze on her was so very intense, sharp as Valyrian steel, that when his eyes shifted to look at you lingering in the background; you let out a shaky exhale. The edge of his lips folded up a bit in a cheeky smirk, before he turned and began to walk away. Not before chucking the precious dragon egg in Rhaenyra’s direction. 

He returned towards the castle, without the egg, while Rhaenyra made her way back towards yourself and Otto Hightower. The heating chamber was opened to receive the egg, and she placed it within, seemingly satisfied with succeeding. Otto and Rhaenyra shared a look before she grabbed your free hand and began to pull you towards Syrax, gently. The leather of her glove feeling odd against the obvious sweat that coated your hand, the eyes of the Rogue Prince still swimming within your mind's eye. 

There wasn’t much time between the thought of the man and taking off on Syrax to go back to the kingdom, Rhaenyra even taking the liberty of situating you firmly against her, wrapping your arms around her stomach. Her eyes gazed quickly over your hands which were now near her chest as you held on, and the thought struck her mind of what your hands may feel like against her bare skin, but just like any thought; it left as quickly as it came.

-

“Stay out here while I talk to my father, alright? I’m sure the knights can make great conversation.” 

Rhaenyra was immediately summoned to her father, and the prospect that she may be punished for succeeding in retrieving the egg was ridiculous to you.

“What if he has disdain toward you going by yourself to get the egg?”

“I wasn’t by myself. I had you– and you were technically protecting me–”

Her shoulder bumped yours playfully, and your eyes rolled as the knights began to open the doors to Viserys’ chambers. You gave her a nod of good luck, and she headed in, the doors closing behind her.

It was safe to say however, that the knights were terrible conversationalists, having to inevitably sit in silence waiting for the Princess to finish her conversation with her father. After a little while, she came walking out of the room with eyes still wet from tears. 

You didn’t want to question what the tears were about, so you opted for a better method of just pulling the girl into a hug; which she accepted immediately. She escorted her to her chambers and even had one of the kitchen maids send her tea for later in the day. When in emotional distress, it is best to leave that person alone to stir with their own feelings before trying to talk, so you left her alone til the very next day. Informing her of the council meeting and helping her into her dress, you both eventually found yourselves in the council room, however, you were curious as to why Alicent was attending.

Viserys walked slowly to the front of the table, “I have decided to take a new wife.” Corly’s shifted in his seat, a satisfied grin arising on his face, was it perhaps about Laena? His only daughter. Rhaenyra nodded at the King to continue, “I intend to marry–” His eyes were shifty, but you were smarter than most observing his Royal Highness speak.

It was Alicent, it was so clear by her anxious shoulders and incessant picking of her nails. And to make matters worse, she glanced at Rhaenyra, catching her attention immediately. “The Lady Alicent Hightower before spring’s end.” 

Otto Hightower had an evident smile on his disgustingly proud face, but Lord Corlys was most infinitely angry, slamming his hands onto the table and getting up at his full height.

“This is an absurdity. My house is Valyrian, the greatest power in the realm.”

“And I am your king.”

To use his title, his power was absurd in of itself, but Lord Corlys backed away from the fight he couldn’t win and stormed out of the room. 

Rhaenyra’s face spoke of limitless, vast, fathomless betrayal. Her own best friend had gone behind her back and got the favor of her own father in marriage. Had Alicent loved Viserys this whole time, using her to get to him? Was she in it for the power, or was Otto manipulating her? All of those thoughts crossed Rhaenyra’s mind in an instant, while on the outside, tears welled up in her forget-me-not blue eyes; her bottom lip quivering.

“Rhaenyra.” Viserys called out to his precious daughter, but instead of answering, the girl did as Corlys had done and stormed out of the room. You and Ser Criston Cole trailing after her, but Ser Criston did it as his duty, you did it due to your genuine concern for her.

She would not need a knight to protect her, or a handmaiden to serve her, but a friend to trust. And in the very castle she stood in, she had just lost the one friend she’d thought she had.

-

[jqmalikhsgib]

love of my life

chapter four

time passed by quickly! before you knew it your eldest daughter was three and your youngest was two and a half. by that time you were on your third baby girl and harry second album was a success! he was still dealing with olivia, even though you knew he was about ready to tell his team to fuck off, he still did it to protect you and your girls.

you loved that harry would do anything to protect his family, even hiding your relationship and dating someone who clearly didn’t understand boundaries.

but you hated how stressed he was. you even offered to tell his fans about your relationship. harry knew you weren’t ready for the world to know about you and your family just yet. he continued to tell you that he could manage this.

and he did, for two more years after that. now, pregnant with twin girls this time, you thought it was time for you to let the world know who you are. harry was overwhelmed with his relationship with olivia and the pressure her team was putting on him for a proposal of some sort.

he wanted to be able to hold you and care for you, love you and kiss you, he wanted to be able to be your husband privately and publicly. and you wanted to be his wife just as much.

it’s why he knew exactly what he was gonna do. he didn’t let anyone, not even you, know his plan. currently he was home with his family. he had to prepare for the grammys! he was announcing his third album to the world tomorrow night.

harry’s stylist, and one of his best friends, had stopped by with plenty of outfits for him to try on.

your daughters all stared at their dad in awe. they still didn’t understand that their daddy was an international rockstar. but they loved watching him dress up.

“what do you think, babe? is it too flashy?” harry asked nervously.

“pwetty, daddy!” delilah states.

she was four now and had the height of her father. your mom swore she was gonna be over six foot tall by the time she reached eleven.

“you like it lilah?”

delilah nods her head, her youngest sibling leaning her head on top of her shoulder.

“what about you, princess? you like this outfit on daddy? or should i pick something else?”

maybelle was only five, but she was really into clothes and fashion the most. harry just knew she’d most likely be a supermodel or fashion designer when she got older.

“like this one, daddy. makes your eyes glow.” she points to the outfit.

harry hums. he grabs the outfit, runs to put it on, and comes back out.

“she’s right! you look fantastic, babe.” you state.

“i love it! and i might have to hire your daughter.” lloyd jokes.

“she’s our little fashion genius!”

harry picks up his eldest daughter as he kisses her cheek gently.

“daddy, going?” nova asked.

“not until tomorrow night. and ill be back home before you know it darling!” harry states.

“you’re still going with o?” lloyd knew how much olivia stressed harry out.

“um—yeah. i am.” he sighs. he didn’t really like discussing this around the kids, or around you. you tried to hide it but he knew you were upset by this dynamic! especially because it was only supposed to to last two years.

but he just couldn’t wait until the brits awards. that’s where his plan to tell the world about you and his family would play in action. tonight he just had to smile for the camera with olivia on his arms.

you were currently sitting in bed watching the grammys. you allowed the kids to stay up late to watch their dad preform. you knew they’d be cranky tomorrow morning, but you would just suffer through it.

“look, there’s daddy again!” you point to the tv. they were announcing best pop solo performance. when they called his name you and the kids clapped.

“daddy won!” maybelle cheers.

the four of you watched as he gave his speech before going back stage. you knew he wasn’t gonna stay any longer.

“alright, bedtime. daddy should be here soon. ill make sure he comes to kiss you goodnight.”

“kay, mama.” you got the kids ready for bed. heading to your bedroom and getting ready to sleep as well. you heard the front door open.

smiling, knowing harry would kiss the kids goodnight before anything.

when you finally felt his arms around you, you sighed softly. “proud of you grammy award winner.”

harry chuckles. “can’t believe it.” your turned around, wrapping your arms around his neck. “i can, you’re a rockstar! it was only a matter of time.”

harry kissed you gently. “couldn’t have done it without you.”

“what are you on about?”

harry kisses your neck. “i mean, the song was inspired by you after all.” he smirks against your skin.

“you’re nasty.”

“i just wanna taste it. watermelon sugar, high.”

“stop!”

“can i get a taste now, misses styles?”

“you’re tipsy aren’t you? you’re always a little horny when you’re buzzed.”

“just a little, but can you blame me though? i have the hottest fucking wife ever! especially when you’re pregnant with our kids. love you so much.” he kisses you passionately.

you just giggle as he continues to love on you. “gotta be quiet.” you hummed.

“tell yourself that. you’re the one that’s loud.”

you giggle once more as he picks up and and gently plop your body on your bed.

the next two weeks went by fast. harry had gone to england for the brits awards three nights ago. tonight was the night he would publicly announce to the world about his wife and his three, almost five, beautiful children.

he was nervous, yet excited. unfortunately olivas team pushed them to go to this award show together, despite harrys team thinking it’ll be best if he goes alone. but they couldn’t deny the attention they both got at the grammys. ultimately they agreed that it would be good press.

“you ready, babes?” olivia smiles.

harry refrained from rolling his eyes. he knew that this would embarrass her, big time! but he had to do this. for himself, for you, and for the kids. it was long overdue.

“lets get this over with.” harry sighs.

once they got to the red carpet, everyone cheered and yelled for them. harry kept his hands on the small of her back.

finally, when he was seated and the show went on, he enjoyed himself, drinking and laughing. when it was time to preform he did a fantastic job. he felt more confident and relaxed when he was home.

he loved preforming in the us, but nothing was like preforming in your own country!

when they announced his name for song of the year everyone whistled and cheered. harry got on stage and accepted his award.

“wow! this is a huge honor. id like to thank the fans for always being supportive and enjoying my music. id like to thank my mom for encouraging me to pursue my dream all those years ago. and most importantly id like to thank my wife, yn and our three beautiful daughters! thank you all. i love each and everyone of you.”

you were stunned when you watched his speech. you didn’t know what to do or say. part of you was nervous.

this was a huge deal for you and your family. this meant the world knew about you. and even from the years before, when they found your instagram, you still get people trying to add you.

now that they knew you were more than just harrys friend, the amount of people requesting to follow you will triple.

another part of you was relieved. finally being able to be free and love your husband openly felt amazing. no more sneaking off, no more looking over your shoulders, no more paying paparazzi off, no more stress. that thought made you feel amazing.

your phone kept going off but you couldn’t care less about that. until you saw harrys name pop up.

“i can’t believe that just happened.”

“are you upset?”

“im—no. im actually relieved, harry. i can finally be open with you. i can finally shout to the world im your wife, and—you can finally tell the world you’re my husband. baby, this is the best gift you’ve given me. besides our kids of course.”

harry sighs in relief.

“how’s jeff handling things? i take it he didn’t know either considering you had to take liva with you.”

“yeah, he’s a bit pissed but he’s also kinda happy i finally spilled the beans. he just wished i would have told him. how are you and the twins?”

“when you said my name they kicked.”

“really?!”

“mhm! i think they’re proud of their daddy.”

“well it’s been a long time coming. you all deserve the world. no more hiding.”

“no more hiding.”

anyone wanna be added to taglist lmk

taglist:

@harryspirate

[moodymelanist]

happy day 3 of @cassianappreciationweek everyone! for todays prompt I didn’t have anything ~official~ planned, but I always think about how Illyria doesn’t really have its own canonical holidays. So I started thinking about how my dad has always talked about how in the Caribbean, Boxing Day (the day after Christmas) is a holiday in its own right… and it got me thinking maybe Illyria has something like that.

anyways hope you enjoy this slice of holiday fun in the middle of the hottest summer ever ❤️‍🔥

“Girls, do you have your costumes?” Cassian yelled up the stairs. They only had a quarter of an hour before they were due for the parade, and of course their home was chaotic as usual.

“Yes, Papa!” came his older daughter Seraphina’s reply.

“We’re coming!” Nesta yelled down right after. “Nasima, let me help you with your hair.”

In Illyria, Solstice wasn’t considered one of their own holidays. Sure, Cassian loved spending time with his family and celebrating Feyre’s birthday, but it wasn’t his tradition the same way it belonged to Mor or partly Rhys. Instead, they celebrated the day after Solstice, with training being paused for the day and most of the local businesses being closed. There were parades and more than enough food, drink, and warmth to go around, with many of the younglings putting on bright clothes and painting their faces with traditional symbols of life and good luck.

It had been Cassian’s favorite holiday as a youngling himself — and he was so honored to be able to share this with his own children, probable lateness aside. Their lives in Illyria were worlds away from his own, and that was the way he liked it.

Cassian looked up at the sound of three sets of feet hurrying down the stairs, a wide grin spreading across his face at the sight of his family. “Finally.”

“I didn’t see you offering to help,” Nesta replied pointedly. She had on a thick, blue cloak and matching fur-lined leggings, her cheeks pink from all the rushing around.

“I helped plenty!” Cassian protested. “I was the timekeeper.”

“Girls, your papa is being silly again,” Nesta said, pulling giggles from their daughters.

“Papa so silly,” Nasima, their younger daughter, repeated. She was in that stage where she parroted back everything the two of them said, so Cassian had had to learn to censor himself before she picked up anything inappropriate. “Up?”

“I’ve got you, princess,” Cassian said, bending down to pick her up. Her dark hair was pulled back into two pigtails, leaving more than enough room for the bright clips and soft pins Nesta had adorned her with. “You look so festive, Nas.”

“Mama helped,” Sera informed him promptly. She was almost ten years older than Nasima, in that awkward age where she wanted to cling to her family but she didn’t want to be embarrassed about it, and Cassian knew the moment they got outside she’d make a break for her friends. “Can we go already?”

“Yes, yes, let’s go,” Cassian replied, though not before muttering some choice words in Illyrian under his breath.

Once they all made it outside, it was like stepping into an explosion of festivities. There were bright decorations dotting the path to the main campgrounds, the smell of meat on the grill was intoxicating, and someone was playing the fiddle with so much zeal it was a miracle they hadn’t snapped a string. Cassian couldn’t help his smile as the four of them made their way toward the center of it all, the sight of so many smiles reflected back at him only making his spirits soar even higher.

“Mama, Mama, can I go play with Aria?” Sera asked, spotting Azriel and Gwyn’s daughter immediately. Nesta had hardly agreed before Sera was tearing off through the crowd, her bright yellow outfit disappearing in the blink of an eye.

“She’ll be fine, my love,” Nesta told Cassian before he could even voice his worry. “You know she never takes that necklace off.”

Nesta had enchanted so many of their daughters’ jewelry items over the years with that same spell she’d used in the Rite that Cassian knew he didn’t have anything to technically worry about, but still. “I know. I just worry anyway.”

“Dare I say this is one of the places you can worry the least,” Nesta replied, leaning up to press a quick kiss to his cheek. “Now which way is the parade?”

Cassian spread his wings a little further than necessary to help create a path through the crowd for them, still holding Nasima securely in his arms. She didn’t really start to squirm until the familiar banners for the parade came into view, her blue eyes wide with excitement and wonder as they approached the familiar line of people. Cassian exchanged greetings with so many people he nearly lost count, and by the time they made it to the front he was more than willing to put Nasima down in the chair they were using for the face painting.

Emerie had gotten roped into doing the face painting this year, though she looked more than happy to wield the paintbrush when she saw whose face she’d be painting next. “Hello, my little warrior.”

“Say hello, Nas,” Nesta said gently.

“Hi Emwrie!” Nasima tried her best to form the syllables of Emerie’s name, but it was so adorable none of them could stomach correcting her. “Face paint!”

“That’s right, Nas,” Emerie replied, reaching for her set of paints. “What colors do you want this year?”

“Red!” Nasima yelled. Cassian, Nesta, and Emerie both managed to hold back their winces at the shrillness of her little voice. “For Papa!”

Cassian just about melted on the spot, bending down to press a kiss to the top of his daughter’s head. “Thank you, zogu.”

His little bird just beamed up at him and held herself as still as she could. Emerie used red and white to decorate her brown cheeks, the three adults making their usual small talk as she worked.

“All done,” Emerie announced. She held a little mirror up to Nasima’s face, and judging by Nasima’s happy shrieks, she was a satisfied customer. “I wish I could talk more, but this line…”

“We’ll save you a seat after the parade,” Nesta promised, scooping Nasima up with practiced ease. “Bye, Emerie.”

They wished each other a happy holiday in Illyrian before Emerie called the next child over. Cassian loved hearing Nesta speak Illyrian, loved seeing how much she’d thrived in his homeland over the decades since their mating ceremony. He couldn’t help but sneak a kiss in before they started walking toward the parade.

They made it just in time to start walking with the other families. He took Nasima back from Nesta so she could sit on his shoulders, her little wings flapping with excitement every time they saw someone dressed in a bright costume. Nesta was magicking up silver flashes that wouldn’t burn for the crowd’s amusement, though Cassian suspected she was mostly doing it to hear Nasima clap her little hands together in pure joy. Even Sera managed to sneak into the parade and back to their sides, letting Nesta wrap an arm around her shoulders as they walked.

Cassian knew he thought this every year, but as they walked and danced and sang his people’s songs, he knew this was his favorite holiday yet.

tag list: @perseusannabeth | @bookstantrash | @charming-butt-insane | @oversizedbats | @melphss | @sv0430 | @podemechamardek | @autumnbabylon | @live-the-fangirl-life | @julemmaes | @that-little-red-head | @jmoonjones | @sayosdreams | @thewayshedreamed | @hiimheresworld | @brieq | @pearlfortears | @swankii-art-teacher | @nerdperson524 | @snickerdoodlechittybangbang | @imsointobooks | @nesquik-arccheron | @sweet-pea1 | @champanheandluxxury | @dustjacketmusings | @mrs-shadowsinger04 | @unlikelypersonalknight1 | @goddess-aelin | @arinbelle | @talkfantasytome | @simpingfornestaarcheron | @duskandstarlight | @letstakethedawn | @vidalinav | @c-e-d-dreamer | @dealfea | @katekatpattywack | @burningsnowleopard | @thatsowlmazing

[greenflamedwriter]

Ice skating Au: My scum Coach hates his student!

Okay I was inspired as I saw a post on instagram with the photos yuzuru hanyu and thought oh a Binghe male figure skater au

So the story is similair to Disneys Ice princess kinda: Binghe takes an interest in skating his mother took him to the public ones whenever she could but when they were tight on money, both were lucky to ice skate on their local pond-

BUT with her weak immune system she died of hypothermia and Binghe was in the foster care system. And he worked part time at the local ice rink. And he knows the main Figure skaters at his school, Ming fan [he's good but not great and he'll have to rely on pure talent than other factors since he has a bland personality] Ning Yingying, and Gongyi Xiao. And their Coach?

Shen Qingqiu. So he's basically Tina from the disney movie who gives Binghe new skates just before a performance, he knows Binghe can only pay for the lessons with the money from working at the ice rink so he purposfully buts on practice or important shows when Binghe is on shift.

A complete scum bag!

But Shen Qingqiu was a renowned ice skater, but [also based on margo robbies tonya which I suspect tina was the reference] even though he had talent the people he worked with ended up ruining his dreams by threating the other skates, Liu Qingge was his rival and hated him and Shen Qingqiu can't even speak to Yue Qingyuan as it was his fault that Shen Qingqiu was blacklisted and was then banned from participating and unable to skate competitively or in a proffesional setting.

At least he can still skate for himself, but he still resents Yue Qingyuan for what he did.

And when people STILL bring up his past, curse him out OR if any type of disruption happens they blame Qingqiu [if another skaters hairdryer stops working or their outfits have a tear] they think it's him sabotaging so HIS students can win.

Being labelled as the scum of the skating world when he had done nothing wrong and was actually a victim of a shitty couch himself [Wu Yanzi] he finally snapped when he saw Luo Binghe on the ice for fun and saw he was not only good, but how he treated the ice and danced like it was second nature. Like he was made for it.

Burning with jealousy, and trying to make Gongyi Xiao go for gold, he tried everything to stop Luo Binghe from practising.

Then suddenly Shen Yuan the avid reader of "My scumbag of a couch!" Is panicking that he suddenly has four skaters to go on the ice for the compition and he planned on sabotaging Binghe ON the floor- it was a wardrobe malfunction.

Once the skaters went out to get food, Shen Yuan disposed of ALL the skaters outfits and told them some idiot cleaner took the bag to the trash without even asking! How unproffesional! Luo Binghe stared in suspicion, until Shen Yuan bought all of them new leotards before the show began.

Honestly he didn't know WHAT Shen Qingqiu was thinking, only Gongyi Xiao had a good outfit in that dump.

So he dressed Binghe in black and red and saw with pride how Binghe succeded and even WON the tournament.

Luo Binghe looked so confused at Shen Qingqius proud smile before he fixed it back to his cold neutral stare.

THEN Shen Yuan finds out the old palace master was THREATENING HIM, that he only had Gongyi Xiao to make him look good and his his adopted son doesn't win, then the old man would leak footage of Shen Qingqiu was skating competively for a job [he was desperate] and in violation of his court order and would permanently be BANNED from the ice, even at the ice rink and lose his job if he doesn't get rid of Binghe and make Gongyi Xiao his main cadidate to win gold and get him to the olympics.

Blackmailed! Why wasn't this in the story! It was so good! holy shit-

Even so, this was when Shen Qingqiu decided to loan Binghe brand new ice skates that ripped the skin of his feet during his next contest.

Even so, he had to get rid of the old man...hmmm.

Well he could ask Yue Qingyuan, he was the reason why Shen Qingqiu was IN this mess in the first place may as will make him fix it.

Then Shen Qingqiu [after Binghe wins and Gongyi Xiaos father mysteriously disapears] ends up having to choereograph the new dances for both Gongyi and Binghe as they both tied and were selected to compete against each other.

Luo Binghe was awful at making his own dances so Shen Qingqiu had to help him one on one.

This is where the switch happened and the story ends up like Yuri on ice.

[eleanor-bradstreet]

A Special Day

Anthony Bridgerton and family Modern AU Rated: G, pure fluff Ficlet <1k words

Summary: Anthony's choice of a lavender shirt causes a stir.

Author's Note: We love this outfit. C'mon, how can you not love this outfit?!? Sometimes Jonny Bailey dresses so well, I have to write a fic about it. This is one of those 💜

“Oh dearest, there you are. Thank goodness you came down. Everyone is waiting outside.” Violet flitted around the foyer, moving to greet her son at the foot of the curving staircase. 

“Yes, I am aware,” Anthony nodded. “Apologies for the delay.”

They were surrounded by Bridgertons and the low buzz of everyone speaking at once. Today was important. The annual meeting for Bridgerton House Enterprises hosted at Aubrey Hall. A spring tradition where the family mingled with hundreds of their employees in the flowering gardens of the estate and where Anthony delivered a keynote speech. This year press were in attendance as well, since he would be announcing a global spread into five new international subsidiaries. The day had been planned in meticulous detail. The Bridgertons were to present a united family front as the face of the company. His wife, children and mother would be at his side, as would all of his siblings who had cared to attend.

“My, you look quite smart.” Violet surveyed him top to bottom. He had chosen a neutral linen suit over a turtleneck, tailored to perfection and befitting the garden party atmosphere. But he could hear the passive concern in his mother’s tone.

“What is it?”

“Your shirt.” She leaned in closer. “The lavender really suits you dear, but the dress code… We agreed we would all be in the family color.” She gestured back toward the clump of his relations behind her, outfitted in an array of blue. Benedict in a dark blue linen suit much like his own. Colin in something powder blue and a bit too haute couture but passable. Daphne and Simon were present and his tie matched the cornflower blue shade of her dress. Kate was affixing navy bow ties to their two sons and was herself wrapped in a blue sari. His mother wore a white dress adorned with a print of blue flowers. He would stick out like a sore thumb.

“I know, Mother, but…”

“Anthony.” His wife had spotted him and marched over to join them, her tone much less forgiving. “What are you wearing? Purple? Really? Why did you change? We had your outfit laid out for you this morning!”

He knew he had to tread carefully when Kathani looked at him that way. “My love, I know. There was a last minute wardrobe adjustment.”

“Why?” She glowered. “What did you do?”

As he gawped, somewhat terrified, a third onlooker joined the crowd. 

“Well don’t you look lovely!” Benedict beamed at him, reaching out to smooth his lapels. “Uncharacteristic of you to break the rules brother, but it’s about time you tried it! That color is doing wonders for you. The combination shouldn’t work, but it does.” He plucked at the fabric of the turtleneck and Anthony swatted his hand away. 

“Thank you,” he growled. “I didn’t know this would be the cause of so much commentary. It’s only a bloody shirt and it’s what I am wearing for the day.”

“Oh but I’m sure we can find you a blue shirt,” Violet fretted.

“Anthony, what is the meaning of this?” Kate hissed.

An assistant called over the heads of his bustling family. “Two minutes, Lord Bridgerton! You’re needed outside.”

“Papa!” A small voice called from the top of the stairs. Everyone quieted and turned to see Charlotte, Anthony’s youngest, perched primly by the bannister. She too had foregone the blue outfit her mother had provided that morning and was instead wearing her favorite princess dress up costume; a polyester explosion of shimmering purple fabrics, topped off with a garish plastic tiara. 

A smile broke wide across Anthony’s face and he jogged back up the steps to take her tiny hand and help her down. At four years old and with one hand needed to gather her skirts, her father’s assistance was required to navigate the tall stairs. They slowly descended back to the family, then Anthony straightened his jacket and looked around at them all with a vindicated smirk.

He could see the exasperation in Kate’s eyes as she bent to their daughter. “Charunya, why did you not put on the blue dress I picked for you?”

The girl jutted her chin into the air, a perfect mirror of her mother’s obstinance. “Because Papa said today was special and so I wanted to wear my special dress. It’s my favorite color.”

Kate shot a glance up at her husband who could only shrug in mock defeat. They both knew once their daughter set her mind on something, woe betide any who tried to divert her from it. It was a behavior Anthony had grown quite familiar with during the course of his marriage. With a tight timeline for the day, he had chosen the path of least resistance and let Charlotte dress herself. 

“And did your Papa say he would wear purple with you?” Kate asked.

“Yes,” the little girl nodded. “So I would not be alone.”

Kate looked back at her husband with love in her eyes. Violet brought a hand to her mouth and Benedict swaggered away with a grin. Anthony reached down and took Charlotte’s hand again.

“Are you ready for our special day, my princess?”

“Yes, Papa,” she smiled. Then together they walked across the foyer and outside into the waiting crowds, leading a parade of blue-bedecked Bridgertons behind them.

Tagging: @angels17324 @bridgertontess @broooookiecrisp @secretagentbucky @colettebronte @sorryallonsy @queenofmean14

[eyeslikewatercoolers]

Four Halloweens-Sashnetra

Happy spooky season! Set in the Wedding Planner AU, here's four Halloween-themed drabbles in different points in Sasha's life.

Thank you to @kitty-padilla for betaing ❤️

Featuring Beyoncé, Shark Tale, Pregnetra, and the search for the bestest pumpkin ever.

read on ao3

Sasha age 19, Halloween

This was Sasha’s first Halloween as herself, so she had to make it count this year. 

Actually, this was her first Halloween ever, but that was beside the point.

Sasha’s been waiting nearly her whole life to wear a costume that she felt like Sasha in, so this would be a big moment for her. 

Except that she had no idea what she wanted to be for Halloween. Or where she would wear said costume. 

It took several weeks to scrounge up enough money to cover a costume. She took out some of the money she earned from her (very small) wedding photography side business. 

But Sasha will worry about that later. First, she needed to scope out the local Spirit Halloween store and see their options. 

Walking through the women’s section, Sasha wasn’t too impressed by the choices. Cheerleader, Disney princesses, and an entire wall of random skimpy costumes. She wouldn’t be opposed to wearing these specific costumes, if she was a little bit further into her transition and was happier with her body.

Sasha walked out of the store empty-handed and disappointed. As she turned on her old clunker of a car, the radio came to life with the top 40 station she always kept on. Upon listening to Beyoncé on the stereo system, she knew immediately what her costume would be.

Know that I can't get over you 'Cause everything I see is you And I don't want no substitute Baby I swear it's Déjà Vu

Sasha pulled into the nearest Goodwill and excitedly walked inside. She immediately went straight to the women’s section, dodging any older women who gave her a look for interrupting their shopping.

She searched through all the options on the rack and instantly gravitated to a shimmering silver dress. It’ll be some work for her, but it was the perfect option.

A blonde woman around her age looked at the dress from where she stood at the other end of the rack.

 “That’s a real pretty one you found.” she said, with a deep Southern twang to her voice. “It’ll make you feel amazing, I promise.” She lowered her voice for only Sasha to hear.

This girl was just like her. Her hair was growing past her shoulders, and her makeup brought the feminine features out of her face. 

“It’s gorgeous, but I’m using it for my Halloween costume,” Sasha explained. “But maybe I’ll try it on first, just to see it for myself.” She and the girl shared a knowing smile. 

“It was nice to meet you, I’m Kylie.” The blonde said after they both checked out.

“Sasha.” She smiled brightly at her new friend. 

After several days of cutting the dress and hand-sewing it back together, Sasha made it into a top and short skirt. She curled her hair into tight spirals and put on her outfit in an excited rush. When she looked at herself in the full-length mirror, a wide grin never left her face.

Sasha grabbed her camera from its case and started snapping pictures of her poses in the mirror. She had nowhere to wear this outfit, but she did not care if no one saw her right now. 

Maybe one day she’ll have someone to share the holiday with, but for right now, this Halloween was all for herself. 

Sasha age 27, Halloween

“What are you wearing?” 

“No, what are you wearing?” 

This was Sasha’s first Halloween together with her girlfriend, so they planned to wear matching couple’s costumes. But with whatever Anetra was wearing? Sasha was left very confused. 

“You said you were going to be Lola for Halloween. Both you and Marcia told me about it!” Sasha said, crossing her arms. 

“I am Lola,” Anetra said as she showed off her long white, flowy dress with thin red lines running horizontally over it. “That’s her name, isn’t it?” 

“Baby, nobody calls her by her name. Everyone calls her the sexy fish from Shark Tale!” Sasha said with a playful smile. She knew Anetra grew up very sheltered and only started watching non-Christian movies soon before they started dating. 

But she didn’t think Anetra was this out of touch with her generation.

“Oh,” Anetra said, eyes slightly downcast. “Is that why you chose that costume?” she asked.

Sasha nodded. “I assumed you meant Lola Bunny. So I wanted to surprise you with a Jessica Rabbit.” she gestured to the red, sparkly gown that she and Kylie worked on together making for the past week. 

“We should have talked a bit more about this, huh?” Anetra said as she crossed her arms, slightly closing herself off.

Sasha nodded, “It’s too late for us to find a second option too.”

She and Anetra have only been together for six months, so their communication wasn’t perfect just yet. They were still in the very beginning of this relationship, and this was just a small roadblock for them.

Sasha reached out to hold Anetra’s hand, “It’ll be okay, maybe it’s going to be like a little inside joke for us?” she offered as the front door to her apartment opened, letting in Luxx and Marcia.

“Look at our Shark Tale group! We are so winning the costume contest,” Luxx said before their eyes landed on Sasha. 

Silence fell between all four of them. Luxx was dressed in a fitted and bedazzled blue and yellow tracksuit, and Marcia wore a hooded shark-themed mini-dress. 

Anetra spoke up, “At least you’ll be the hottest Jessica Rabbit there," she said as an offering to Sasha.

“Next year we’ll be sexy M&M’s. Easy, simple, and no confusion,” Sasha said as she grabbed her purse, ready to go to the party. 

Sasha age 34, Halloween

Pulling her car into the garage next to Anetra’s (tarp-covered) motorcycle, Sasha felt mentally exhausted. For the autumn being the off-season for weddings, she had just put a busy day at the bridal shop behind her. 

She met with several winter (and some Valentine’s Day) brides, helped with alterations while Loosey was out sick, and oversaw a Halloween-themed ceremony and reception. 

She was mentally and physically exhausted, but it was a Friday and Halloween night. Kerri was going to a classmate’s party, and then spending the night with Jasmine.

 Sasha looked forward to having a quiet night in with her wife as they would set up a bowl of candy outside, letting trick-or-treaters help themselves. 

Tonight would be one of the last nights they’d have alone until their baby arrived in a couple more weeks. Both of them were needing a quiet and relaxing night before life with a newborn took over. 

After putting her purse on the hook and placing her shoes under the bench in the mud room, Sasha followed a pair of voices down the hall toward her daughter’s bedroom. 

Except the hallway bathroom with the light still on caused her a quick detour. She was about to feel for the light switch but looked in shock at the state of the bathroom. 

Orange paint was in almost every spot. It was in streaks around the sink, the toilet, and some on the floor. Some of it was mixed with green paint and some with brown. Upon closer inspection, the paint looked like it was from a face paint kit. 

“What’s with all the paint in the bathroom?” Sasha stood in the doorway to Kerri’s bedroom, looking at the two teenagers sitting on the bed, cross-legged.

“One second, Mama. We’re doing eye makeup here.” Kerri said without turning around, holding an eyeliner pencil to Jasmine’s eye. 

While she waited, Sasha walked closer to the room. Makeup was scattered around the bed, but none of it looked like face paint. Their costumes were hung against the closet door, as the two were still in their clothes from school. 

When Kerri finished, she looked at her mother, “We haven’t been using paint today, so I have no idea where it came from,” She shrugged as she looked at her lip glosses.  

Sasha sighed, realizing that this was the not-as-easy part of being the parent of a teenager. “So neither of you know why there’s orange paint all over the bathroom?”

Both teenagers shook their heads, “We’ve been in Kerri’s room since we got back from school,” Jasmine added. 

“I’ll just ask your mom then if she knows,” Sasha said as she walked back to the doorway, before turning back. “Where is she, anyway?”

“I think I heard her and Marcia go to the backyard a while ago.” Kerri said before picking up a small bottle of setting spray, turning her attention back to Jasmine, “Now, close your eyes and hold still.”

Several minutes later, Sasha opened the French doors to the backyard and saw Marcia and Anetra sitting in the still-green grass. Marcia sat directly in front of Anetra, while Anetra was facing away from Sasha’s view.

“One last line and...” Marcia said with a face of concentration. “…done!” she said, holding up a paintbrush with orange paint on it.

“Is that why the bathroom is covered in face paint?” Sasha asked, and the two turned to look at her. Despite the mess, she couldn’t help but smile at the two. 

“Sash! Look what Marcia made!” Anetra looked at her excitedly, trying to carefully move herself around to show her rounded bump to her wife. Painted on her outstretched skin was a detailed pumpkin with a brown stem and green leaves on the outer edges. 

“It looks nice, but why?” 

“I know we agreed on no costumes this year, but I’ve been so bored waiting for this baby to come. We found this kit when we went shopping today and decided to put it to use.” Anetra smiled as she looked at the painting on her round belly, still holding up her shirt. 

“I’ll go get my phone so we can take pictures!” Marcia jumped up and started walking back into the house. 

“Aren’t you forgetting someone?” Sasha asked her.

Marcia turned around to see Anetra struggling to get off the ground, trying to maneuver her pregnant belly into a place where she could stand up. Sasha helped Marcia by grabbing one of Anetra’s hands and pulling her up to stand. 

The bathroom could wait until later to be cleaned. For now, she might as well join in on the Halloween fun.

Sasha age 37, (a few days before) Halloween

“What about this one?”

“Too big.”

“This one?” 

“Too lumpy.” 

“How about this one here?” 

“'Netra, I think that one is a gourd.” 

“Oh.” 

Sasha watched her wife’s face fall slightly as she placed the round gourd back on the ground. Feeling slightly bad for correcting her, Sasha placed a peck on Anetra’s cheek when their daughter wasn’t looking.

“It’s not your fault that toddlers are so picky.” Sasha pointed out as they continued to search through the pumpkin field. They had meant to spend the whole day doing different activities at the local farm that held a seasonal pumpkin patch, but they’d been stuck looking for ‘The bestest pumpkin ever.’

“It doesn’t help that she’s a little perfectionist like her Momma.” Anetra retorted, giving Sasha a pointed look. 

Sasha knew that her wife was right. Their daughter always colored inside the lines, hated her food touching and had to have her toys sitting from biggest to smallest. Delia might look like the mini version of Anetra, but Sasha really rubbed off on her personality. 

They watched as Delia carefully examined the pumpkins. The rest of the guests at the pumpkin patch slowly left to get on the hay rides back to the front of the farm. 

“I’ll go talk to her, and you go get us a good spot on the next hay ride,” Sasha told her wife as they parted ways. 

Sasha kneeled in front of the pumpkin that Delia just moved onto, and carefully rolled it out of the way. 

“I can’t find the bestest pumpkin.”  The toddler looked at her, worry growing in her eyes. 

Sasha held her hands out with the palms up, inviting Delia to hold hands with her. Smaller hands were enveloped by larger ones, and Delia had her full attention. 

“I’m sorry, Dee, but the pumpkins aren’t grown to be perfect.” 

“They aren’t?” 

Sasha shook her head, “Nope. Pumpkins are like people. A lot of us aren’t born with what we like about ourselves, but we can change things to make us happy. Like how we carve pumpkins to give them smiles.” 

“What do you mean, Momma?” Delia asked. 

Sasha and Anetra weren’t ready to dive fully into explaining everything about trans people to their toddler, but luckily she hasn’t asked yet. They’ve collected some advice from other trans parents, so they were prepared when the time came. 

Sasha looked over at Anetra standing at the front of the trailer, waiting for the hay ride to start. Then she got the perfect idea for an explanation. 

“You know how Mommy has red hair and we have brown hair?” Sasha asked, to which Delia nodded. 

“She actually was born with brown hair like us. But she realized that she is happier with red hair, so she keeps it that color.” 

“Mommy’s hair isn’t really red?” Delia looked back at her in shock. 

“Nope, but don’t tell her I told you.” Sasha playfully tapped Delia’s nose as she stood back up. “Now let’s find a pumpkin that we can make the bestest.” 

The pumpkin they found had a too-short stem and leaned when sat upright, but they later cut and carved it into the bestest jack-o-lantern just for them.

[kitkat-the-muffin]

This took a while but it’s finally done!

I’m quite proud of how this turned out. Took me all week to design and draw the character, and took me all day to photoshop this Strife template (I don’t believe in downloading fonts)

Anyway, this is my Usersona for Cloutchase! Think of it as my new online presence (at least until I recolor it for future use)

I’ve put the full drawing, as well as further elaboration on the process, below the cut, and I recommend checking that out too!

I did trace the og template a bit, but that’s cause I suck at drawing poses. The arms are entirely my own design though, so I’m kind of proud of that. The colors were color-picked from previous usersonas so I had a palette to work with

I struggled a lot with the outfit design, and that was mostly due to the limited colors at my disposal. I think it turned out alright, though, even if it didn’t all go according to my initial sketch. For example, I wanted a small ponytail but ended up with two long pigtails. They’re absolutely fabulous though, so I’m very happy with the end result. You can’t make something grand without scratching a few drafts first, after all. I plan to maybe use this design in the future for other things after I think of a new color scheme. My placeholder colors were magenta, purple, and teal!

I actually based the design off of several references from characters I like, or more specifically characters I want to cosplay some day. Those characters were Uzura from Princess Tutu, Sophia from Persona 5 Strikers, Strelitzia from Kingdom Hearts Union X, and Saki from Romantic Killer. All four of these characters also happen to be previous profile pictures of mine from Discord, so I guess that’s why I felt drawn to their designs when creating this new online persona, or “usersona” lol

I named her Muffy (she/her) cause that’s the nickname I’m trying to push for on Tumblr, especially after being called “Kitkat” or “Kat” for about 6 years now. It’s time for a change I suppose. The “McQueen” part is in relation to my blog title as a self proclaimed “shipping queen” but also I wanted to make a Cars joke. The Strife Specibus was a last minute decision, though. I was gonna go with yoyokind but then realized I ALWAYS use yoyokind as my default weapon and I don’t even know how to use yo-yos irl. So instead I decided to give my little chaos child the most dangerous weapon in America that isn’t a gun: pepper spray.

“Peprsprykind” is an actual modus from canon too, I saw it on the wiki hahah. Muffy only has one can but it’s full of GLITTER so she can ruin people’s lives and make them sparkle all at once! However, she does have some restraint of course, it’s only for when she’s feeling evil of vengeful heheheheh. I had a whole conversation with a friend about how choosing pepper spray seemed kind of boring to me at first, but maybe I can do something unique with it. Maybe use it on Amino and watch them swallow it like the ungodly demon they are, who knows?

Anyway, might post the progress video later if I feel like it. For now ima relax tho since this is my first actual drawing in a while that I’m actually proud of, and I’m tired from dedicating a week to it

I hope the @cloutchase team enjoys Muffy’s presence as much as I do

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

🌕 Blood Moon: Chapter Three

Blood Moon: You have been defying nature, and perhaps, even the Gods. After returning to life because of Tony Stark’s sacrifice, all humans now have a designation: alpha, beta, or omega. Angry at the fate you’ve been given, you decide that you will do anything to ensure that your fate is in your own hands. You’ll soon find out that it is never a good idea to tamper with fate, especially when one man makes it his mission to ensure that you understand that you can try to out-fly your destiny, but fate will eventually catch up to you.

Warnings: Language, Canon-Typical Violence, Gun Violence, Zemo Get’s Frisky With Reader, Your Age Pre-Set for Plotline.

To Note: A/B/O Universe Post Snap, Zemo x Female!Reader, Timeline Of Events Is More Spread Out (Weeks Rather Than Days) To Fit Plot Line.

Word Count: ~4.1k

Previous | Masterlist | Next

Saying Sam and Bucky are upset was an understatement. You thought Bucky was going to flat out fall back in a faint when you had followed Zemo down the airplane steps. Sam was probably going to need to go on high blood pressure medication soon.

“No, no way are we letting Diana walk around Madripoor wearing that, especially when we know this place is dirty! She smells like a freaking omega!!” Sam erupted while you ignored him and continued walking.

“Do you want to get the lead, or play big brother Sam?” You called over your shoulder, waiting for the three of them to catch up to you. “Because I don’t have all night and I would like a drink.”

Sam looked like he wanted to argue more, but didn’t. He let out a huff of frustration and started walking over as Bucky broodily stared you down.

“Oh please, stop acting like this is the first time you’ve seen me in a dress,” You snapped out as Zemo walked up to you and placed a hand on your back.

“I am sure James and Sam will get used to the idea, Liebling.” He told you as the four of you started walking. He then called to the two sulking men. “I would not send Diana into a place such as the Princess Bar without some sort of protection.”

“Like what? Her as your side piece?” That was just petty, Sam.

“If you haven’t noticed the giant rocks around my neck, Sam, all who fix their greedy little eyes upon me will know that I am taken, presumably by Zemo, since he is royalty and neither of you could afford this necklace. I am untouchable unless they have a death wish.”

“Yeah, you do know you might have you act submissive, right?” Sam fired back while you rolled your eyes. “You smell like the most delicious omega on the planet. You are gonna have to act like you’re one.”

“I am prepared to do what I need to do to ensure that our plan works. Now, who are you supposed to be again?”

“He’ll if I know,” Sam grumbled before looking down at his outfit. “We gotta to do something about this. I’m the only one who looks like a pimp.”

“Only an American would assume a fashion-forward Black man looks like a pimp.” Zemo told Sam as he passed a phone over. “You look exactly like the man you’re supposed to be playing. The sophisticated, charming African rake named Conrad Mack, aka the Smiling Tiger.”

“He even has a bad nickname.” Sam commented. “Hell, he does look like me, though.”

“Then you already have something going for you.” You commented, shooting Sam a look.

“You smell this?” Zemo questioned as a car appeared on the far edge bridge. It continued to drive towards us.

“Besides Diana? Yeah, what is that? Acid?”

“Madripoor.” Zemo corrected while the car stopped. Doors were opened, and you slipped to the middle of the back seat. ”No matter what happens, we have to stay in character. Our lives depend on it. There’s no margin for error. High Town’s that way. Not a bad place if you want to visit, but Low Town’s the other way.”

“Let me guess. We don’t have any friends in High Town.” Sam said as he and Bucky sandwiched you in.

“Most definitely not,” You spoke quietly as Zemo slipped into the passenger’s seat and the car started moving once more.

The entire time you walked through Madripoor, Zemo kept you glued to his side as he walked confidently through the misty streets, Sam and Bucky bringing up the rear.

While they stayed in character as needed, you knew their minds had to be going a million miles an hour as their eyes watched everything that moved. Understandable. When you had exited the car, all eyes turned to you as you moved through the neon streets. You had to admit something; you didn’t see how any of the three alphas wore as much layers as they currently did, seeing how it was a current balmy 80 degrees out. Perfect for someone like you wearing this scandalous outfit, but them? They had to be hot.

It didn’t take a genius to notice that the moment you had entered society and the scent of an omega started circulating, heads were snapping around and other alphas were coming sniffing. Time to show everyone that you are really off limits. Dropping your shoulders, you stretched your neck out to accentuate the multitude of gemstones clinging to the column of your throat and put on your best ‘innocent yet absolutely smitten with the alpha at my side’ look you could muster.

Your subtle extra tactic worked wonders as jealousy flamed in the eyes of every alpha in the vicinity. It really didn’t take much to make an alpha jealous. One simply had to flaunt something that another desperately wanted, and in this new world, it was you.

“They’re all looking at her like she’s the prime tenderloin in a case of ground chuck,” Sam grumbled underneath his breath.

“They know what they do not have,” Zemo coolly responded before taking the initiative. His gloved hand slid across your back and settled on the open portion of your side, snugly tucking you into his side in a display of possession.

Your nose picked up the subtle hints of rage coming from the two men behind you.

“Knock it off you idiots, do not ruin this.” You hissed under your breath. That burst of rage melted to a simmer but didn’t disappear completely.

“Consider this. Do you want Diana to remain safe?” Zemo questioned them as you neared the Princess Bar. “Because the only way to guarantee it, is if everyone knows she is mine.”

“This does not mean we have to like it.” Sam growled.

“No one said you had to,” You huffed as you reached the doors to the bar. You turned your head. “This is life or death. Control your alphas or I will do it for you!”

“Come now, Liebling maus, I am sure they understand.” Zemo purred at your side as he took your right hand and directed you into the bar. “No one here wants to ruin your night.”

You let out a haughty sniff and allowed yourself to be appeased by his words. It was all too easy to fall into the submissive roll.

“Готов подчиниться, зимний солдат?” (Ready to comply, Winter Soldier?) You were now in the thick of Madripoor’s underground, and one minor mistake could cost you everything, including your lives. You only hoped that Bucky and Sam could control themselves if you had to go as far as act like the designation you was pretending to be. “Shall we get you a drink, Liebling?”

You let out a purr in the back of your throat while Zemo weaved you through the crowd. Lucky for you, the bar wasn’t too packed at the moment and you found a place to stand by near the bartender. Zemo, carrying on his act, pulled out a bar chair and helped you into it.

“Hello, gentlemen, miss.” The bartender greeted, his eyes flickering to Sam. “Wasn’t expecting you, Smiling Tiger.”

“His plans changed. We have business to do with Selby.” Zemo offered in explanation. “Would you kindly make a side car for my omega?”

The bar tender jerked his chin in acknowledgment before looking to Sam.

“The usual?” Sam gave him a firm nod, and the bartender immediately got started on making your drinks. Tucking you heels underneath the bar stool, you curled your fingers around Zemo’s which still held yours, and drew it up to your cheek where you pressed his palm against your skin.

That tremor beneath your skin was back, clawing at you from the inside out. Alongside it came a flushed feeling that left your skin hot and needing the touch of an alpha.

You cursed at yourself and resisted the urge to shove Zemo away from you and get as far from the mysterious man as you could. Whatever was going on with you was going to have to wait until you were in a safe environment to explore the causes. Preferably your lab. Until then, you would have to accept what was happening.

At least he was wearing a glove. You didn’t know how you would react if it was his bare skin touching you… that was it. It had to be OS-336! Perhaps you had gotten your dosage wrong after all and your true designation was somehow creeping through the cracks of your chemical formula. You would give yourself an extra boost in dosage when this was over then, but at the moment, these embarrassing and unwanted side effects of your true designation were working in your favor.

Letting out a pleased sigh, you rubbed your cheek against the smooth leather glove as you stared down the bartender who was putting together your drink. You hoped you looked like a smug omega who knew exactly who she belonged to; it was how an omega of Baron Helmut Zemo would act.

“Enjoy,” the bartender said as he placed the martini glass down in front of you with an orange twist perched on the edge. Your eyes took in the drink before you slowly shifted them to Zemo, whose lips quirked as he gently stroked the side of your face.

“Drink, Liebling, you’ve more than earned it after patiently waiting by my side.” Letting him slip his fingers from you, you turned back to the drink and pulled it to you by the stem of the glass. While you were raising it to your lips, the bartender was pulling a snake from a jar. As the citrus drink slipped down your throat, your eyebrow popped up when the snake ended up getting gutted and an organ placed in a shot. “Ah. Smiling Tiger, your favorite.”

Oh poor Sam, either the bartender was bullshitting you, or the Smiling Tiger had some weird tastes. Sam picked up the glass and held it up.

“I love these.” He said with zero ounce of happiness. Zemo then picked up a shot glass of his own and clicked it against Sam’s.

“Cheers, Conrad.” Zemo said before shooting back his shot. Sam looked like he was going to be sick, but actually shot back his drink. With that little display over, you focused your energy back on your drink. Since Zemo had explicitly said drink it, any omega would take that as a ‘I will drink this until it’s gone or my alpha says stop’. So you guess you might end up buzzed tonight. Oh well.

You took another swallow of your drink and briefly shut your glittering eyelids. This club reeked of alphas, omegas, and betas alike, but you could only focus on one thing. Zemo.

Someone came up from behind you.

“I got word from on high. You ain’t welcome here.”

“I have no business with the Power Broker, but if he insists, he can either come and talk to me…” Zemo gestured to Bucky in threat.

“New haircut?”

“Or bring Selby for a chat.” Zemo finished his threat. The man sulked off.

“A power broker? Really?” Bucky spoke lowly and unimpressed.

“Every kingdom needs its king. Let’s just pray we stay under his radar.”

“Do you know him?” Sam queried.

“Only by reputation.” Zemo admitted. He turned back to the bar. “In Madripoor he is judge, jury, and executioner. Зимний солдат,” (Winter soldier) Your eyes widened when a hand landed on Zemo’s shoulder. “Вперед, чтобы атаковать.” (Forward to attack.)

Your Russian was rudimentary at best, but judging by the blank look on Bucky’s face, and his robotic movements that proceeded, you knew that whatever Zemo had said probably meant something along the lines of attack. Bucky grabbed the hand attached to Zemo’s shoulder and walked the man back away from you as he grunted in pain. From there, he kicked the man’s legs out and slammed his vibranium fist into his shoulder.

More men ran up to Bucky, and with a few quick punches to their stomach and one hearty kick, he sent them all flying back into each other. From the looks of things, men were going to continue to attack despite the four already down men.

“Didn’t expect this to happen,” You murmured in surprise, keeping your back to the fight. “But at least I’m not bored anymore.”

The bartender walked over to the nearest phone and made a call. You tossed back the rest of your drink, feeling the buzz of the alcohol which actually loosened the tension you were feeling.

There were more sounds of men grunting and being thrown around, and even glass shattering. Had they really thought it was a good idea to take on the Winter Soldier?

“Didn’t take much for him to fall back into form.” Zemo commented right before Bucky slammed a man onto the bar top next to you, holding him there by the neck. You glanced down at the man’s bulging eyes. Guns were cocked. The show was over for you, it seemed. Zemo placed a hand on Bucky. “Stay in character or the entire bar turns on us. Отлично, солдат.” (Great, soldier.)

“Selby will see you now.” The bartender announced. Bucky dragged the man he had pinned from the bar top and let him flop to the floor. You peeked at the ground. He was out cold.

“Thank you.” Zemo offered his hand to you, so spinning in your seat, you effortlessly scooted off the stool and dropped to your heels. You started walking through the bar, and to the back area where Selby could be found. There were CCTV’s everywhere, people at tables counting mountains of currency, and plenty of guns flashing about.

Entering a larger room, you spotted two sofas, one of which was occupied by a short-haired woman. Selby. She drummed her fingers on the back of the couch where she lounged.

“You should know, Baron. People don’t just come into my bar and make demands.”

“Not a demand. An offer.” Zemo responded, tugging you with him to the empty couch and sitting down, tucking you next to him. Your eyes started into Selby’s. She was a beta, but a pretty dominant one by the way she smelled. No wonder she ran things around here.

“A lot has changed since you were here last. By the way, I thought you were rotting away in a German prison. How did you escape?” She didn’t pull any of her punches. You could respect that.

“People like us always find a way, don’t we?” Zemo questioned while running his fingers along your black covered thigh. He reached your bare knee and curled his leather covered fingers around it, drawing his individual fingers across your skin. “I’m sure you’ve already figured out what I’m here for.”

Selby ignored Zemo’s words for a moment and looked at Sam.

“You’re taller than I’d heard, Smiling Tiger.” She purred at him while curling her fingernails. “What’s the offer?”

Zemo gracefully rose from the couch, leaving you lounging on it.

“Tell us what you know about the super-soldier serum.” He said, walking over to Bucky. “And I give you him, along with the code words to control him, of course. He will do anything you want.”

“Now that’s the Zemo I remember. I’m glad I decided not to kill you immediately.” Selby chimed with a small chuckle. “Yeah, you were right to come to me. Arrogant, but right… but I’m forgetting something. Who is this? She’s quite a beauty, not to mention I could smell that delicious scent of hers before I even set my eyes on that gorgeous body.”

Selby looked at you like she wanted to eat you up. At least Zemo looked unperturbed by the question and was instantly replying.

“My omega, being in prison gets lonely as you can imagine,” Zemo said before walking behind the couch. Twisting your head, you looked up at him with adoration and reverence a smitten omega would have. “I like to have someone to go home too, someone I can dote on.”

You might have believed his words with the way he was staring so deeply into your eyes had this not been an act. His hand reached up and grasped your hair, pulling your head back to expose the necklace to the lights, and your throat to him. Zemo then bent down and ever so slowly brushed his nose along the curve of your neck, taking in your natural scent that clung to you beneath the omega perfume.

Your eyes shut and all you could concentrate on was the nose pressed to your skin and the lips that shot electricity and need straight to your core. Never had you been so taken with a sensation that made your skin burn. You couldn’t help the soft purr that left your barely parted lips. That had your eyes flickering open wide in shock, and that was the moment Zemo reached your chin.

Zemo place a kiss dangerously close to your lips before pulling away. He had that smug little smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He knew exactly what he was doing to you.

“There is nothing like having a soft, warm omega waiting for you.” Zemo finished. You were sure at this point Bucky or Sam, or maybe both of them, would have shot Zemo the second he put his hands on you. The only thing saving him was that you were smack dab in the middle of a bar, surrounded by people who would turn on you in a second if ordered. Zemo released your hair and walked back around the couch to sit down next to you once more.

“It’s a shame you don’t share,” Selby sighed out. So she played both fields, interesting… “The super-soldier serum is here in Madripoor. Dr. Wilfred Nagel is the man you wanna thank. Or... condemn, depending on what side of this you’re on. The Power Broker had him working on the serum, but... things didn’t go as planned.”

“Is Nagel still in Madripoor?” Zemo questioned.

“Oh. The bread crumbs you can have for free, but the bakery is gonna cost you, Baron.” Selby stood up and started walking around the room. “And before you get all cute, don’t think you can find Nagel without me.”

So you were going to have to really haggle an answer out of her, so be it. Unfortunately, you seemed to have the worst luck in the world because Sam’s phone started buzzing. Your hands curled into fists in your lap while you struggled to keep a normal outward appearance.

“Answer it. On speaker.” Selby demanded. With tension thick in the room, Sam accepted the call.

“Hello?”

“Hey, um, we need to talk about this situation. It’s been drivin’ me nuts.” Shit. It was Sarah, Sam’s sister.

“What situation exactly are you talkin’ about?”

“Are you high? You know what situation, it’s the only situation me and you have.” Sarah snapped back.

“What situation, Sarah? Say it.” This was going to blow up in your faces. You just knew it. Selby started prowling around Bucky, and before you could dig your fingernails so hard into your palm, you cut them, a leather glove was tugging your hand from its clenched position. Subtly looking at Zemo, you saw he had his eyes trained on Sam.

“The damn boat. And watch your tone. Okay? I let you slide at the bank.” The Wilson sass and attitude was going to bite you in the ass one day.

“The bank. Yeah. Laundered so much money…” Sam let out a small laugh. “Yeah, they’ll come around.”

“If that was the case, then why’d they dog you out, Big Time?”

“Yeah, you damn right I’m Big Time. You’ll see when I have that banker killed.” Sam huffed out.

“Cass! What’d I tell you about the Cheerios? I don’t have time for this! Sam, I’m sorry. I’ll call you back.” My eyes closed at the realization that this had just turned into a shit storm.

“‘Sam’? Who’s Sam? Kill them!” Selby called. Before the guards in the room could fire, a bullet flew through the window and nailed Selby in the head. She was dead before she hit the floor.

Sporadic gun fire started up, and you were yanked from your seat by the Baron faster than you could comprehend as Sam and Bucky quickly took care of Selby’s men.

“This is a big problem,” You said while you were led to the exit, Zemo’s hand still firmly attached to yours.

“They’re gonna pin this on us.” Sam echoed in agreement. Zemo sighed.

“We have a real problem now, so leave your weapons and follow my lead.” You exited the bar as fast as you could, and while you did so, cell phones began to chime with text messages.

“This is not good.” Zemo muttered seconds before the lights over head cut out, and gunfire erupted over your heads. All four of you ducked down and then split. While Sam and Bucky darted forwards, you were left to split with Zemo since he still had a hold of your hand, and seemed determined not to let it go.

It wasn’t easy running in these heels, especially since you didn’t wear them daily and weren’t used to walking in them. At least Zemo seemed to know where he was going because he dragged you into a small alcove between two buildings, briefly hiding you from our pursuers. Of course, it also meant that you were tucked neatly up against him and subjected to both his closeness and his natural scent. You waited for a few moments after your pursuers continued on past before stepping out from hiding.

“I’m not exactly dressed for a high speed get away and these heels are not made for running.” You said quietly. Zemo glanced down at your feet before making a face and nodding his chin at your feet.

“I will buy you another pair.” Not needing further explanation, you quickly unstrapped your feet from the pretty heels and ditched them in the alleyway. “We need to find Sam and James. They can’t have gone far.”

“You know this area better than I do.” You answered with a shrug.

“Indeed, I do, follow me.” You started walking, and you were reminded just who exactly Zemo was before the whole Sokovia Accords debacle. He was a trained military man from a special forces unit. You shouldn’t forget that. Weaving around buildings and sliding along back alleys, you eventually emerged to see Sam and Bucky about to be cornered by some men on motorcycles. But rather than get into another fight, someone from the nearby building shot and killed the men.

“You seem to have a guardian angel.” Zemo said as he merged from the shadows, you on his tail.

“Well, this is too perfect.” Your eyebrows popped up at the voice and turning around, you saw Sharon Carter. “Drop it, Zemo.”

Zemo was rather compliant and placed the gun he stole on the ground.

“Sharon?” Bucky asked in confusion as Sam stepped forward.

“You cost me everything.” Sharon hissed, kicking the gun away.

“Sharon, wait. Someone recreated the super-soldier serum and Zemo had a lead.” Sam explained, stepping forward and getting in front of Bucky and Zemo.

“That explains why you guys are here. And Selby’s dead. ”

“So what are you doing here?”

“I stole Steve’s shield, remember?” She snapped out before motioning with her gun. “I also took the wings for your ass, so that you could save his ass, from his ass. Unlike you, I didn’t have the Avengers to back me up. So I’m off the grid in Madripoor.”

“Hey, don’t blow that smoke at me. I was on the run, too.” Sam shot back.

“Was. Is. Big difference. I don’t speak to my family anymore. I can’t. My own father doesn’t know where I am.” You felt somewhat guilty over that, even though you had nothing to do with Sharon’s decision to help Sam and Steve. Sharon fixated her eyes on you, so you gave her a small wave and meek smile.

“Hi, Sharon.”

“And what the hell are you bringing Diana into a place like this? You know what happened to her. She’s just a kid!”

“I’m actually almost thirty,” You pointed out.

“Because if anyone is going to figure out if the serum we find is real, it’s Diana… and she’s not a teenager anymore.”

“Yeah, you still look barely over twenty,” Sharon huffed at you. You rolled your eyes.

“You can thank the blip for that.”

“Listen... Sharon, we need your help.” Bucky pleaded and Sharon just chuckled at him. “Please.”

“This isn’t over. I have a place in High Town. You’ll be safe there for a while.”

Date Published: 7/10/22

Last Edit: 7/10/22

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[starchilddante]

For my first request, dear artist...

Prince to Princess.

Basically, she starts off a cis male who feels body dysphoria and wonders why, thinking that as a Prince he is perfect and there's nothing wrong with him... then one of her servants teaches her about LGBTQ+ and Trans people, and she realizes... oh my Irene, I'm not a Prince. I'm a Princess.

(also please please please make the parents supportive, I suffer from a self-proclaimed but really not supportive dad but incredibly supportive Mum and Step-dad)

“Good morning, your Highness. It’s time to get up.” I open my eyes blearily to the face of my attendant, smiling softly at me before heading over to fling open the window curtains. The light of the morning was already streaming through the windows. This is the third time I've overslept this week. Whoops. 

I rolled over to the edge of my bed, stifling a groan. Now I would have to dodge Irene’s string of concerned questions all day and sit through another worried lecture from Mom. 

It’s not that I didn’t appreciate their worries. I just… didn’t have any answers to my own questions, let alone theirs. It was easier to just pretend everything was fine. Even if I’d rather be sleeping lately. 

“Come on, up and at ‘em.” Irene was never one to let me mope. “Just because you’ve got nothing going on this morning doesn’t mean you can lounge around, Prince Alexander.” 

Irene had already laid out my outfit for the day, and I could hear the water running from the bathroom. A bath didn’t sound terrible. 

I pushed myself from the bed, staggering over to the bathroom. Irene rewarded me with a slight smile, laying my undergarments next to the tub. 

“I’ll help you get dressed once you’ve finished.” 

After Irene closed the door behind her, I began to undress, doing my best not to look down. As I sank into the hot water, I caught a glance of my chest, where chest hair had become dark enough to be visible. An uncomfortable feeling settled underneath my skin. I’d been growing more and more body hair lately, a fact that caused me to feel more and more self-conscious. I did my best to ignore it. Body hair is normal for someone my age. My mother had said it plenty of times. I just needed to get used to it. 

Once I was finished, I shoved on my undergarments and opened the bathroom door to Irene making my bed. Normally, a royal’s attendant would help them bathe and dress them in the bathroom, but I would feel weird asking Irene to do that for me. It was odd enough that I had specifically requested a female attendant. I didn’t want her to get the wrong idea. 

Not that she would anymore. We’d gotten pretty close over the last year. She told me about her wife and two kids and I told her that I exclusively liked men. She told me about how she had been married to a man for four years and I told her that I didn’t come out to my parents as gay until I had to court a princess for the first time and I bawled my eyes out. 

I didn’t tell her everything, though. There were some things you couldn’t tell anybody, not even your extra cool lesbian attendant. My stomach roiled with anxiety at the thought of it. 

“Your parents want to see you for breakfast,” Irene said, pulling me out of my thoughts. “They waited for you. And then you have a meeting with your Father this afternoon to plan the ball for next month-” 

Irene paused, staring at me as she combed my hair. “Prince Alexander? Where are you today?” I winced at the use of my name. Sometimes people used it when I wasn’t prepared and it felt like a bomb was being dropped. I don’t know why. 

“I’m right here, Irene,” I replied. “We’re in my room, in case you didn’t know. In the castle.” Irene snorted at me, resuming the process of managing the thick brown bush on my head that I called hair. 

“Wiseass,” she retorted. “You know what I meant. You’re stuck in your head again.” Her expression softened, and I knew what was coming.

“Everything okay in there?” she asked. “You’ve seemed… different these days. And you’ve been oversleeping a lot more recently.” 

I brushed away her questions with a chuckle. “Come on, Irene. You know me. I’m just a grumpy old man in a 17 year-old’s body. Old men need their sleep. And it’s probably a good thing I’m thinking so much. It’d be a problem if the heir to the throne didn’t use their brain.” 

Irene turned her head to look at me sternly, but I knew her well enough to see the smile hiding at the corners of her lips. I always knew how to lower Irene’s guard. It was my speciality.

“Still, you know you can talk to me about anything,” she finally said. “That’s what I’m here for, Alex.” 

My heart fluttered a little. I much preferred Alex to Alexander, but Irene would only call me that every once in a great while, when we were alone. 

“I didn’t know you were here to be my therapist. I thought you were my attendant.” Irene offered me a playful smack on the shoulder. 

“Go to breakfast, your Highness.”

A short part one to let you know I did not forget this idea, I'm just a old and tired college student :p

Or if you'd rather read on Wattpad, I will continue uploading parts here and there:

Hope you enjoy the story!

[hiatuswhore]

𝕦𝕘𝕙, 𝕙𝕚𝕘𝕙 𝕤𝕔𝕙𝕠𝕠𝕝 𝕝𝕝 — 𝕥𝕔

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Word Count: 2.2K

SUMMARY: Ugh, high school. Best four years of nothing. Raging mood swings and sporadic acne. All on top of balancing mean girls, douche bag guys, and cocky jocks. Best four years? Yikes image peaking in high school.

“Oh come on (Y/n). It’s a party, you don’t have to wear something scandalous but at least something cute. What do you think of this?” Marina holds up a tank top so sheer I can practically see her through it. She mirrors my confusion as we both stare at each other.

“What the hell is that?” I ask. Ivy glances up from her phone but only chuckles and looks back down.

“In what universe did you think (Y/n) would wear that Mina?” Ivy says as Marina exclaims it is only a camisole. Nodding my head I raise an eyebrow at her until she puts the shirt down.

“How about this one? Simple dark crop-top you can pair it with some jeans and jewelry. Super cute and comfortable,” Marina gives the shirt a wiggle for emphasis and pairs it with a big smile. I only grimace, what’s wrong with sweats and cropped sweaters? She sighs turning back to her bag in defeat, she has more clothes in the bag but she stuffs her two shirts away, “Fine but I heard Declan’s going to be there tonight.”

“Having this information would only be useful if (Y/n) would just take a breath and talk to him. Hell freezing over is more likely than that,” Ivy focuses on her eyeliner as she pulls no punches from my direction. Marina huffs Ivy’s name in a patronizing tone as we both stare at her.

“Do you always have to be a bitch?” I ask, rolling my eyes and she pauses as if she thinks it over, before nodding her head. We fall back into a comfortable silence with ease, sitting on Ivy’s words she’s not wrong. Every time I try to speak to Declan, I freeze—or in the wise words of Cady Heron, word vomit. “I think I will stick to my beloved grey sweats and drum roll please.”

“Oh no,” Ivy says, laying across my bed resting her head in hand while Marina sits on my beanbag chair forcing a smile.

“Princess and the Frog cropped shirt. Super cute and screams me,” I say, relishing in how they both shake their heads at my plain outfit choice.

“You should listen to your friends lovey. Vintage is back right? I have some super cute mom jeans from the nineties. Want me to get them out of the attic for you?” My mom beams in the doorway, I see her more excited at the prospect of me going to a party than my all A report cards.

“It could be super cute with this crop top,” Marina says, taking the black crop top from her bag. My mom squeals with excitement before disappearing down the hall.

“Not necessary Mom my outfits chosen,” I call out but she ignores me as I hear the ladder fall. Marina and Ivy giggle at my mothers excitement, I groan knowing I will now spend the next hour bickering with her about the jeans.

“I have such a crush on your Mom,” Ivy says, ignoring her comment I pull my hoodie over my head before switching into the princess and the frog shirt. The loose shirt pairs well with my sweatpants and I am ready for the party I plan to stay at for two hours max.

The next three hours consist of my mother trying to convince me to wear the jeans, Marina trying to put makeup on me, and Ivy being Ivy. On our way out of the door my dad reminds me of my curfew and if anything they can come get us if need be.

Mackenzie’s house is large. The room reeks of cheap perfumes, weed, and beer. I cringe at the loud music and packed living room. My parents would kill me if I did this to our house. Ivy and Marina are greeted by several of our peers with enthusiasm, my hellos feel as though they are tapered onto the end out of courtesy.

“I think there’s more space in the back to dance,” Marina says, locking arms we all work our way through the house to discover an even more ridiculous backyard. From the large in ground pool to the granite floors—I am undoubtedly in awe. Scanning the crowd I see no sight of Declan.

“Come dance with us,” Ivy says as Marina pulls an imaginary rope toward herself from my direction. I shake my head reminding them that I do not dance.

“Yeah you do,” Marina grabs my wrist pulling me in between both herself and Ivy. I stick out like a sore stiff thumb with them dancing around me. Ivy’s fiery look makes the swaying of her hips sexy, Marina’s ethereal look makes her enchanting as she moves as if no else matters. I look foolish as I grimace and bop like something constricts every muscle in my body.

“I’ve seen you dance (Y/n) let loose, you're a great dancer,” Ivy says, reminding her there is a huge difference between here and my bedroom. I take two steps back from them still just barely moving to the music.

“Oh wow all this dancing really tired me out. I’m going to find a drink,” I hear them both scoff at my exit but neither of them follow me inside. The music is somehow ten times louder inside and I work my way toward the kitchen with ease. I fill a red solo cup with cranberry juice and a little bit of vodka while pecking at the open bag of potato chips.

“Glad I’m not the only one looking for snacks,” My throat sinks to my stomach as I look over my left shoulder. Declan reaches down grabbing a chip looking down at me. I fail to shake the shock and at this point I am just staring at him. “Earth to (Y/n).”

“Uh sorry I um—yeah,” Why am I such an idiot? He chuckles asking me if I am having fun. Scratching the back of my neck I cringe almost on instinct, “I guess.”

He chuckles again, wetting his lips as he leans down toward me. What the hell? My heart is hammering as if it wants to jump out of my chest, “Between you and me. I’m not having much fun either.”

I let out a laugh as he leans back up and grabs a few more chips. Still I have not completed a single sentence since he joined me. Taking a deep breath I fiddle with my fingers. My mind races to think of something to say as I try to calm my nerves before speaking up. “I—“

Before I can speak Evan Meisters at Declan’s side pulling him off to join the other football players. My shoulders fall in defeat as I scold myself for once again getting in my own head.

“Double-A were running low on snacks?” Closing my eyes I know Timothèe stands behind me with a shit eating grin and something stupid to say. “You look very underdressed for a food station attendant.”

“Very funny,” Rolling my eyes he takes my cup from my hands and brings it to his lips.

“Vodka cran. Very classy,” He says, smirking as he continues my drink.

“You keep up and I’m going to think you have a crush on me Chalamet,” I say and he holds my gaze as he finishes my cup.

“You think poking fun of you is how I flirt?” He asks. Given the lack of originality it would not shock me if that is how he flirts. We both know I am kidding but a glint sits in his eyes that makes me shift but I cannot let him see me falter. He closes the space between us and chuckles playing with the hem of my shirt. “Wanna get out of here?”

I cannot lie. For a second—scratch that a millisecond the white button up, blue jeans, and gold chain was doing something. I flick his forehead before pouring myself another drink. His laughters non stop as he joins me in making himself another drink.

“Your ladies look amazing out there, have either of them asked about me?” He asks, taking a sip of my drink he does the same as we linger by the snacks and drink table.

“When I told them you were here I could practically hear their ovaries exploding. Marina’s eyes glowed like—like fairies and Ivy wept thanking the heavens for the opportunity to be in your presence. It was so powerful that they just started dancing together,” He laughs at my mocking tone, calling me insufferable. Any chance of me enjoying this party drains as Bianca joins Timothèe's side.

“Hey B what’s up?” He says nonchalantly and I frown, how the hell could he not worry about their interactions. The two of them hooking up is a ticking time bomb just waiting to erupt.

“Want to hang out later?” She asks, tilting her head forward, her dark hair frames her face making her dark eyes more noticeable. She’s wearing a dark crop top and denim skirt with waist beads.

“Tempting but I can’t tonight I have to help my mom move some furniture early in the morning,” My head whips toward him as the words leave his lips. If Bianca did not treat me as a ghost she would see my face and know he was lying. Bianca sighs and stalks off into the party leaving Timothèe to avoid my gaze.

“Um, why not just say no?” I ask, glazing over the comment about his mother he seems thankful for it.

“It’s never that simple. They always find a way around my no. I think I would need to have a girlfriend for them to back off,” He says, finishing my cup I shrug muttering that he should find a girlfriend then before leaving him at the table.

I leave the party without Ivy and Marina, it’s only a fifteen minute well lit walk to which I text them proof of life while in my bedroom. Turning on Project Runway, I make a bowl of popcorn and cozy up on the couch. I get through half an episode before knocking on the back glass door makes me flinch. It is faint and the porch lights are off—they are motion sensors. Tensing up I consider screaming for my parents to come down as the house grows eerily quiet. I almost do as Timothèe’s face appears in the kitchen window, he points toward the back door before disappearing.

“Are you insane?” I whisper letting him into the house. I turn the tv back on as a smokescreen. My parents would not care if they found Timothèe in the house but I still have no desire to wake them and be pestered with questions about the party.

“Love this episode by the way and you are a genius. I need your help getting Mackenzie and Bianca off my back,” He speaks fast and the smile on his lips tells me whatever he is about to say is going to idiotic. “Let’s pretend we are feeling each other and might date.”

“Why the hell would I do that?” I ask snatching my bowl of popcorn from his fingers as he helps himself.

“First I’m your best friend,” He says, holding up his hands gesturing to the many pictures on the wall of my living room. Timothèe’s and I are in a large amount of them together. Even his soccer photos reside on our fridge, my mom loves him.

“First friend,” I point out and he flips me off while stealing another piece of popcorn.

“Second, we can so pull off having chemistry. People mistake friendships for more all the time. Last I can help you get with Declan Knight,” Narrowing my eyes I scrunch my nose and he continues, “If we start hanging out people are going to ask questions. Girls are not the only ones who gossip, the guys are going to want to know why (Y/n) Acevedo. Then I tell them how cool you secretly are.”

“Just because we are hanging out does not mean that is going to draw Declan’s interest in me,” I point out, nodding his head. I wait for the shoe to drop knowing there is no way this plan carries out without something I do not like.

“Okay we are going to have to do a little bit of a look change,” He says, laying back on the couch I let out a long sigh.

“How different?” I ask and he bites his bottom lip grimacing at my cat pajama pants and SpongeBob shirt. “Seriously it’s that bad?”

“You have uni-boob, your posture sucks, and your comfy looks would look better if you put more effort into your hair” He lists off without a care and my jaw drops.

“How the hell did you get into Project Runway?”

“Remember the day you kicked me out because I thought you were depressed but you were actually just being extremely lazy?” Nodding my head I remembered I kept telling him to stop looking in my window. Yes I had been Project Runway all weekend and not leaving my room unless it was to pee but still. “I got curious how you could watch it so religiously but then I fell deep into that rabbit hole for a couple of days. So are you in?”

[shirleyfeeneys]

Meeting Cindy Williams

I am still in utter shock at the sudden passing of Cindy Williams. So I thought it might help me if I tell the story in written form of the time I met her back in 2021.

It was a typical August, well maybe not so typical for me. My mom had been through a major health challenge and I had recently quit my job due to depression and suicidal thoughts. I even spent a few days as an outpatient in a mental hospital because of it. As all of that was slowly coming behind me, my favorite (and nearest) comic con, Planet Comicon, was about to occur in Kansas City, Missouri, a few hours away from where I live.

The guest I was originally looking forward to had cancelled last minute due to COVID travel restrictions (hence why I went as Princess Leia but I’ll mention that more later). But as I looked through the guest list another name caught my eye. Cindy Williams from Laverne & Shirley. Now I had seen Laverne & Shirley once before, the episode with Carrie Fisher which ironically didn’t even have Cindy in it. While the episode hadn’t kick started me into the series back in 2016 when I watched it I remember throughly enjoying it. So I thought I’d watch this show again and see if I actually like it without Carrie Fisher to tide my attention. I tried finding episodes online to watch, which was difficult but I did anyway and eventually found Pluto TV which at the time was only showing select episodes at certain schedules.

I enjoyed the show and decided I would meet Cindy at the con. It was a lovely Saturday morning at around 10:40ish am. I went up to her table. And she was so delighted to see me. As I mentioned earlier I was dressed as Princess Leia, hair buns and all, because of the other guest. I knew so little knowledge of Cindy at the time that I had no idea she had auditioned for the role of Princess Leia. But she wasn’t offended or anything. She genuinely liked my cosplay, and was impressed that I did the hair buns using my own hair, which was pretty long at the time. I noticed she had a Laverne & Shirley face mask, and I commented that I liked it. She offered to give it to me, if it weren’t for COVID safety. This woman was so sweet. If anything I want people to take that away from this story. So sweet, so kind, so caring. She did my autograph, inscribed: “Love, Peace & Happiness to Brianna.” She signed it and asked if I wanted her to include “Shirley.” I did, even though I didn’t realize the picture I had picked out wasn’t just a generic photo of her. It was from More American Graffiti.

Anyway, next it came time to take our photo together. Now I rarely look good in pictures. But this one came out really well for the both of us. It’s been my screensaver on my phone since late 2021. We then said our goodbyes and I told her I would see her later at the professional photo op and her panel. Later at the professional photo op she remembered me, not my name but my face and outfit. And she asked me again what my name was, and I told her. That picture is nice too but the one at her table is my favorite so it is the one I always share.

Later that evening at her panel she shared many anecdotes from her life and answered questions including favorite episodes (she said “Guinea Pigs” here). And she mentioned her upcoming one woman show “Me, Myself & Shirley. From that moment on I was determined to see it, buying tickets to four different shows over the past year and a half that all got cancelled. It just wasn’t meant to be.

My biggest regret from that day was not getting to tell her how much she and Shirley and Boo Boo Kitty meant to me. But I was so new to the show then and didn’t yet know that, so I guess my biggest regret is not getting to see her show and tell her these things. My most recent plan was to go to Austin, TX in May to see her show there. But again, it wasn’t meant to be.

I’ll always remember how warm and kind Cindy was to me. May she rest in peace.

[chichiscloset]

𝐀𝐝𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐍𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞

𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐚 𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐒𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫!

A new semester has begun for us, Young ladies! It is important as Divine feminine young ladies, to take pride in taking care of our wellbeing, Appearance, surroundings, Network, & meet like-minded individuals. No matter what program you end up taking!

I just entered my second year of Uni in September, so far it's been going by super fast! I won't lie to you, It's been a bit of a bumpy ride! Managing balancing my school work, running my blog page and extra-curricular activies. Thankfully, I am managing quite well and just finished writing all my midterms! I wanted to share with you girlies some of the few ways I've been able to fully embrace my femininity while in University+ the best ways to mingle with potential bachelors on your campus community.

𝟏. 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐬 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆!

Yes, I know! This is a bit superficial. But I need to give you the truth! We are all judged by our appearances first in life! so why not start by leaving a good impression! On your classmates, lecturers, and staff on campus. You don't want to be that person, rolling into class with the same PJ's worn last night. Unkept hair & nails.

People address you based on your appearance so always making sure you look well kept and put-together is a must.

My mother always taught me "you dress the way you want to be addressed!". If you look like a princess you'll be treated like one and if you look unkept.. people will treat you as such".

If you are like me and hate planing out outfits for the day of your classes. Try planning them a day, or two before your actual lecture. So you won't feel like you are pushing yourself. If you wear makeup. Try waking up an hour or two earlier. To pamper yourself & wear put on a light beat of makeup.

Since we wear masks on our campus my time is cut in half! only light concealer, light blush, and mascara (when I don't have lash extensions.)

Since my semester started in September people have just been treating me 100% better. I've had both men and women open doors for me. A random guy paying for my lunch, and had way better feedback from my professors during class time! Trust me you don't want to slack on your presentation! You are your brand and you must treat yourself in the highest regard.

𝟐.𝐌𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞-𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐮𝐬!

Network, Network, Network! Think about it you’ve paid thousands of dollars to attend the college/university you are enrolled in now. As a student, you have access to upcoming doctors, engineers, nurses, business owners, lawyers, etc. You mingle with some of the best people in academia in your city, people with MSC's Ph.D.'s and so much more! This is the PERFECT opportunity, for you to meet other leveled-up feminine women, future associates, bachelors, or even a future spouse 😍. Listen, you only have four years so make it count! Join clubs, societies, sororities (if available)& meet as many people as possible! You’ll never know who might come in handy after graduation.

Getting good grades and a high GPA is important. However, having good connections with people will take you further in life. It holds more weight than your degree alone. So make the best of it while you're still in there.

For the love of all things good! Stay away from Hook-up culture!

I do promote that you date in college. it’s an excellent way to practice how to properly vet the men who seek interest in you. Don't be fooled, some of these guys on your campus are simply looking for “a good time." It is up to you to fish out the serious men, from non-serious men. Find out what their goals are in life, where they see themselves in 5 years? Do they want a family in the future? ask as many vetting questions as you can before and during your date.

Make sure that guy takes you on a PROPER date! “Netflix and chill” IS NOT A DATE! Yes, I know your roommate might be doing it, your classmates are doing it and those hormones are flowing. But, you don't want to be given a bad label! Honestly... it’s not worth it. Need some game when it comes to dating? Check out this post here.

𝟑. 𝐌𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭/𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐦-𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐲!

You will be spending A LOT of time in your dorm room/apartment during the semester! Wouldn’t you want your room, to have a “homey” "Calm" welcoming appearance when you walk inside? Your room is a reflection of how you treat yourself both inwardly and outwardly. People will notice! If there is dirty laundry on the floor, dirty dishes & you haven't changed your bedsheets. Take this as a sign to change the way you live ASAP! 

You might be living with someone else. So it's important to learn how to take care of your surroundings! Fill your room with nice things according to your aesthetic! Put flowers in your room, have a candle to add a bit of character or a diffuser turn a plain old dorm room/apartment into your version of what luxury is! If you're looking for some dorm room/apartment ideas check out my Pinterest board for some ideas. 

𝟒. 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲!

Being in Uni/College can be stressful! Especially during midterm and exam season. I can remember myself pulling all-nighters, with a double espresso in my hand, reading old notes & memorizing the terms I needed for my exam. However, please don't overload yourself!

If you haven't already bought yourself a planner or use an Online one ASAP!

Planning your weekly, daily, monthly routines is essential for us college girlies! I'd recommend that you set out at least one day of the week, specifically for working out, self-care, hanging out with friends & Family, and doing extra-curricular. It is important to focus on your studies & pamper yourself. It is essential to reconnect yourself with your divine feminine energy. if you are more interested in "Ways to reconnect with your feminine energy check out my post by clicking here!

𝟓.  𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐁𝐮𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬

Regardless, if you are working a part-time job, taking out a student loan, or getting an allowance from your parents. It is super important to be on top of your finances! Mastering this skill at your young age (18-23) is necessary! This will have an impact on your finances post-college. Like I mentioned above, a planner will become your best friend! Plan out how much you intend to spend on groceries, eating out, shopping, miscellaneous items, rent, etc. 

Take a financial literacy class, invest the money you have, and watch it grow over time, start a 41k account, retirement saving account, life insurance stocks, crypto, Begin building up your credit score, etc. You might be on a tight budget now that you're in school. But once you graduate, you'll be making way more money! With the financial skills you’ve learned, you’ll be able to manage your money 100% better than if you didn't.

Have any lovely tips you’d like to share? Are you currently in college right now? 

Start a discussion in the comments bellow!! Until next time my loves 💛

Chichi xo

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