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#so she tells me to ask my little brother but i am not he does way to fucking much for me already
eisforeidolon · 17 hours
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Question: So the first time I watched the show, I was mistaken and thought Jensen was really short.
Jared: Mistaken about what? {Jensen does an affected flat stare while Jared comically triple-takes at him]
Question: I know, I'm sorry Jensen. But I finally, after a couple seasons, I was like, oh, how tall is he and then I realized Jared's just really tall?
Jensen: Oddly, oddly tall. Oddly tall, we like to call it. Yeah, and then I go do another show where I played an older brother and it's to Justin Hartley who is, like 6'4" and I'm like, well, this is ridiculous. And now, now? I'm on a new show and - one of the actors I'm working with, who is like kinda my partner, so to speak, is, he's 6'6". Like, 265 rugby player, and I look, I look tiny next to him. I look like a little baby boy. And I'm getting sick of it.
[Jared then retells the story of his friend who was asked on a plane if she knew the short one or the one from 7th Heaven of the guys on Supernatural] But yes, Jensen is not short. Anyways, carry on.
Question: So the point of the question was, is there something you often see about yourself online that's either, like, just not correct or something about you that you wish more people knew about?
Jared: That became a really sweet, thoughtful question all of a sudden. Um, that's a good question. Nothing appearance-wise.
Jensen: I'm not that nice.
Jared: Yeah, we're not that nice.
Jensen: I'm not that nice. Okay, alright, that's not true. Dammit!
Audience member: You're not a good liar.
Jensen: I am not, ask my wife. I am not a good liar. That's one thing, I'm not a good liar.
Jared: That's right, yeah, yeah.
Jensen: Just 'cause I have an acting career does not make me a good liar in real life.
Jared: Right.
Jensen: You'd think I would be better. I am not.
Jared: The funny thing is, is that very rarely have I ever lied on camera. I've told, just, somebody else's truth. There are times when Sam lied, or there are times when Cordell Walker lied, or Dean - you know there are times when they lie on camera, but the majority of the time, they're telling the truth. And, you know, whatever you see for 30 seconds on camera, I've read for 30 hours to prepare how to tell that person's truth in that scene. Not 30 hours, but certainly hours and hours. Um, yeah, I don't think I'm a good liar.
Jensen: I know I'm not, 'cause I'm like, you know - she - Danneel just sees right through it. She's like, did you, did you do the thing I asked you to do? I'm like ... uh-huh!
Jared: Did I! That's a hell of a question!
Jensen: Uh-huh, yeah, I took care of that. Yeah? What was it? The thing. I did the thing, I got the, we're - it's fine, it's done. She's like, you have no idea what I'm talking about. Yes I do, I do. It was the -
Jared: It's off the list.
Jensen: It's fine, just check, you don't even have to worry about it. You don't have to - she's like, I already did it. And I'm like [dramatically throws his head back]. She's like, you're awful at that.
Jared: No, I was just saying it was done! I went to go do it and I noticed it was done, so I thought I must have done it!
Jensen: There's like this video, this guy? He's like, if you put - it's like, have you seen, it's like it's magic! If I put my laundry in this thing, the next day it's clean and in my closet. It's this magical thing. And she's like, yeah? Is that right? Tell me about it. I feel like that sometimes.
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moodr1ng · 4 months
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watching a video on coming out narratives in media and it did make me realize ive never seen one that resembled how coming out went for me personally - where i first came out as bi to my mom to complete acceptance bordering on apathy (i mean, she had been telling me how it would be totally ok if i was a lesbian since before i knew i liked girls myself lol. it really was a case of the "i always knew" cliché) but later faced a very strong negative reaction when coming out as trans, with it taking several years for my mom to finally come around to it. when she did though - which seemed to be motivated by my psychiatrist validating my dysphoria and making it clear that this wasnt some new delusion or other mental health symptom - she eventually became extremely supportive of me and did stuff like writing angry emails berating my healthcare team for delaying my top surgery etc. also i kinda had to re-come out as bi bc i spent a few years only dating men and my mom just assumed i was gay now lol, and when one day i mentioned being bi she was like "oh youre still bi?".. AND i also had a sort of second trans coming out when telling my mom i was bigender now and not just a man, and this one i had to do twice bc her memory has been getting bad w age so she forgot the first time i told her!
while on my dads side, trying to come out as bi ended in learning that he was bi himself (even though he self-ids as straight for batshit reasons), and coming out as trans was met with "i dont really get it, but i dont care, you can do whatever you want", which was certainly a relief but also turned out to not be a particularly supportive reaction, more a lack of one. it wasnt a reticent reaction either, he just genuinely didnt care, which included him never informing himself on trans identity - like how when i started hrt after 5 years of socially transitioning my dad asked me what testosterone would do, because he hadnt ever looked it up.
thats not mentioning the various coming outs w my sisters and the rest of my family which all went in various ways (though luckily they were all positive). various members of my family have different knowledge of my identity - im bigender to my mom and my little sister but a trans man to my dad, my older sister and my maternal family, im bi to my parents and my sisters but my mom told her side of the family i was gay lol, and my other younger siblings on my dads side (who im not rly in contact with) probably think im a cis man bc theyre young enough that they were either born after i transitioned or were too young to remember it, so i do have two direct family members who presumably dont know im lgbt at all. interestingly, knowledge of my identity ended up reflecting our relationships, with the people closest to me having the most accurate picture of who i am while the farther apart we are the more vague that picture becomes, ending with the two members of my family im least close to not knowing anything at all.
maybe its in part bc i dont really go for the sort of media that tends to include coming out narratives that much, but i dont think ive seen stories that resemble any of these experiences. yet ik im far from the only lgbt person with weird or kind of comedic or messy coming out stories..
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burying-brightness · 5 months
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nebulaafterdark · 3 months
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At The Pleasure Of The Crown
Aegon x Velaryon(Strong)!Reader
Aemond x Velaryon(Strong)!Reader
Summary: Aegon and his wife regularly visit the silk streets. One night they happen upon Aemond behind one of the curtains, the rest is history.
18+ ONLY MDNI Targcest, smut, infidelity, manipulation, etc.
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It begins in the pleasure house, when Aegon tears back one of the curtains to find his brother. Nude and curled around one of the women.
“Haha,” Aegon points, “Aemond the fierce.”
Even the guardsmen there on Aegon’s behalf, shift uncomfortably as he begins taunting his brother. Though none of them will say as much.
“Stop it, you awful man.” Y/N bats at her husband.
He catches her wrists, pinning them to her sides. “Awful man?” Aegon muses, “that’s not very nice, my only love.”
“You are mean.”
Aegon frowns, “not to you.”
“You should not be mean to your brother either.”
“Are you truly angry with me?” He asks, releasing her wrists to twirl a bit of dark hair around his finger.
“Yes,” Y/N pouts.
“Please, say it isn’t so, my darling girl.” Aegon wraps his arms tightly around her, peppering her face with kisses. “I adore you.”
She says nothing, sighing against him. Stroking the stubble on his chin.
He chases her finger with his lips, “forgive me.”
“Be kind.” Y/N insists.
“Of course,” he nods, “I will be on my best behavior. I swear it.”
Y/N kisses his lips once in parting, shooing him away.
“My wife,” Aegon says to the crowd of men, “she is better than I deserve.” He stands, holding the curtain back, “I will miss her dearly.” Aegon pulls himself away, “now, a round of drinks for all; at the pleasure of the crown!”
Y/N smiles, with a shake of her head. “Might you excuse us?” She asks of Aemond’s company.
“Of course, your grace.” The older woman nods, taking her leave.
“I apologize for Aegon. I do hope you were finished, at least.”
Aemond says nothing.
“I’ve given up the opportunity to bed a woman to be here with you.” Y/N tells him, “let no one say I do not treat you fairly.”
“You should go to her. My brother does so love when there are two of you.”
“At least I’m loved.”
“He loves you to the fullest extent he is capable.”Aemond understands well. “What suprises me most is that you allow these behaviors.”
“Aegon is who he is, we can choose to either love or loath him for it.” Some people are born with sadness sewn in.
“Why love him then, if it is your choice?”
“Why do you come back to this place for comfort?” Y/N purses her lips, “why does anyone?”
Aemond stares blankly, awaiting an answer.
“Because it’s what we know. My late grandsire, the king, insisted it was my duty to keep Aegon contented. I have performed my duty.”
“My father has been dead for years now, with your mother seated peacefully upon his throne.” He hums, “you don’t strike me as a woman content forever unchanging.”
Y/N makes herself comfortable on the silk sheets, lying fully clothed beside Aemond, in all his glory. “I am content.”
He continues staring, studying her, allowing gentle hands to brush hair away from his face.
“Do you like to be petted?”
“Do you enjoy drowning in cups? Or is that another of my brother’s interests being forced upon you?”
“Aegon’s never forced me to do a thing.” Y/N admits, “he lives only to please me.”
“I will say that must be true, considering he does not have a hoard of bastards in the fighting pit.”
“He is careful.” Y/N confirms, “he told me once that our children were kissed by the gods because our love created them. He is particularly rigid about moon tea, even with his favorite ladies.”
“For once, my brother and I see eye to eye.”
“And where, on this matter, do you differ?”
“If you were my wife, I would not allow you here. You would scarcely see the outside of our chambers.”
“You would lock me away?”
“I certainly would not leave you alone with him, in a room at the pleasure house.” Aemond drawls.
“Aegon believes our bodies are naught but vessels for pleasure and of course, producing heirs. He holds little interest in who warms my bed, so long as he is the only one to know my heart.” Y/N explains. “He is fiercely possessive over it.”
“That is what I would desire most from you.”
“We would never lie together?”
Aemond sighs, “we would. Every hour. Until you were molded in the shape of me.”
Y/N swallows, harshly.
“That is the way I would love you.”
————————————————————————
Y/N makes her way down to the library, on nights she cannot sleep. Happening across Prince Aemond, who she’s scarcely seen since that night in the pleasure house. He lazes about one of the chairs, with a large book in hand.
Y/N thinks at first, she best not disturb him, but as she passes, he stares up at her. “What are you reading?”
“The anthology of serpents.”
“Is it any good?”
“I am reading in the hopes of finding sleep. It works best if the subject doesn’t interest me.” Aemond drags a finger along the edge of the page, flipping to the next.
“Right.” Y/N sifts through titles on the shelves.
“Have you read Aegon’s journal entries?”
“My husband keeps a journal? This is news to me.” Aegon’s never had much fascination with literature.
“The Conqueror.” Aemond clarifies.
“Of course,” Y/N shakes her head, “Aegon the Conqueror.”
“It’s a good read, in-”
“Three parts,” Y/N nods, “I’ve read them all.”
“Do you come to this place often?”
“Nearly every night.” The princess confirms.
“Always alone? Or accompanied by your husband?”
“A-alone.” She stammers, “I am often alone.”
“That is unfortunate.” Aemond hums. “Mayhaps I might find you here again.”
He does, of course. The next night and the night after that.
“Is it more comfortable with the eye patch on, or off?” Y/N wonders, having spent a fair share of time staring at him both ways.
“It makes little difference. The covering is mostly for the comfort of others, namely my mother. She was always quite saddened by the sight of it.”
“The sapphire is beautiful.” Y/N clears her throat.
“I’m glad you approve of your brother’s work.”
Y/N taps a finger against her wedding band as she speaks, “Lucerys is a gentle soul. It is not in his nature to attack viciously. He must’ve been very frightened.”
Aemond stands abruptly, leaving without a word. What could she know of what transpired between them that night in Driftmark? She was off nursing Aegon as he drowned in his cups.
Y/N returns to her apartments, finding comfort beneath the covers, she is nearly asleep when the door opens.
“What are you doing in here?” Aegon squints at her.
“I went to your rooms first, my love.” She yawns, “you were not there.”
“I need you in my bed.” Aegon tells her, “I need you always.”
“And you shall have me always. Come lie with me.” Y/N pats the space beside her.
Aegon strips down to his small clothes and joins her beneath the covers. “I thought you’d left me.”
Y/N sighs, passing a hand through his hair as he rests his head against her chest. “Why would I leave you, Aegon?”
“Because I am not worth staying for.” The words are muffled in the fabric of her nightgown.
“I love you.” Y/N reminds him. “I will not leave.”
————————————————————————
Y/N and Aemond spend many a night reading, seated across from each other. Though he was not thrilled about their conversation concerning Lucerys, Aemond never misses an evening.
They discuss their findings, when there is anything of interest in the history pages.
“I happened across this passage here,” Y/N plops the book unceremoniously into Aemond’s lap.
“Mmm,” he groans, shifting uncomfortably, “there goes the family jewels.”
Y/N covers her mouth with a hand. “Forgive me.”
“Mayhaps we might try something different this night. If you’re up to it.”
Y/N takes his outstretched hand, allowing him to lead her out to the training ground. “I am not trained by the sword.”
“I could teach you.” Aemond makes for the wooden training blades. “They will not cut you, but it is not pleasant to be struck.” He warns.
Y/N reaches out, grabbing the hilt. Testing the weight of it in her hand.
“Widen your stance.” Aemond tells her.
Y/N shuffles her feet apart, “like this?”
“Close enough.”
Her dark brows furrow in concentration and when their swords meet, Aemond relishes in the little grunting noises she makes.
“Ao vīlībagon olvie sȳrī syt mēre qilōni knows daorun hen egros.” You fight quite well for one who knows nothing of the sword.
She smiles, “bodmagho nyke skorkydoso naejot tatagon ao hen.” Teach me how to finish you off.
Aemond chuckles, “do not tempt me, girl.”
Y/N lunges for him, an untrained hand against the master, leaving herself exposed to his attack.
He uses the tip of his sword to lift her chin, “I win.”
She swallows, batting it away. “I want to go again.”
And so they do, until she is spent. Collapsing on the ground, as though he’s truly run her through with the blade. Aemond finds this more amusing than he lets on.
“Up,” he demands, “you will make a mess of yourself, rolling around in the dirt.”
“I will surely bathe after our activities, you needn’t worry.”
“Do you need me to carry you back to your apartments then?”
“After a while.” Y/N grins, resting a hand beneath her head as a makeshift pillow to gaze up at the night sky.
“What are you doing?” Aemond hovers over her.
“See for yourself.” Y/N insists.
Aemond grumbles, taking a seat in the dirt before fully reclining. “The moon?”
“The stars,” Y/N tells him. “When I was a girl my mother would point to the stars and ask what we saw in them.”
“To what possible end?”
Y/N shrugs, “entertainment, I suppose. Or gods forbid, fun.”
“What do you see?” Aemond asks, turning his face toward her.
“Well, just there, I see a hound.” Y/N points to a cluster of lights.
“A hound?” Aemond cocks his head to the side, following the line of her finger.
“Can’t you see?”
“Not at all.” He smirks.
“What do you see then?”
“A crown.” Aemond tells her.
“Where?” Y/N shuffles closer to him, hoping to see.
“Beside the sword.”
“There is no sword.”
“And I say, there is no hound.”
Aegon stumbles out towards the pair, listening to them bicker. “What are you doing?”
“Looking upon the stars, my love. Come lie with us.” Y/N waves him over.
Aegon smiles, indulgently. “Alright.” He joins them on the ground, opposite his brother, Y/N in the middle. “Not very comfortable, is it?”
“The sky is beautiful, is it not?”
Aegon blinks at it once, before turning back to her. “You are my moon and stars.”
Y/N rolls atop of him, kissing the expanse of his face, ten times over.
Oh to be so loved.
Aemond withdraws, prepared to take his leave.
“Goodnight, Aemond.” Y/N calls after him.
With a shake of his head, he calls back, “goodnight.”
————————————————————————
Aemond will never admit the amount of times his brother’s wife dances cross his mind during the day. He does his best to distract himself.
The sound of laughter travels down the hall, from their children’s rooms. Aegon is not much, in his brother’s eye. But even Aemond cannot deny fatherhood suits him.
“And then, from the sky, a big scary dragon swoops down to claim its next victim!” Aegon flaps his arms, parading around like a fool, as his children scatter. Giggling and hollering all the while.
Their youngest son runs to Y/N for protection.
“Come, my dearest love. I will save you.” She smiles, taking the little boy into her lap.
Aemond stands in the crack of the door; watching the scene unfold.
Princess Y/N grins from ear to ear as her husband gallops over, enveloping her in his arms.
“Oh no, mother! You’ve been eaten by the dragon.” Her daughter laughs.
“And I am still hungry.” Aegon smiles, turning his attention back to the eldest children.
Aemond turns away, continuing down the hall. Mayhaps he does want children. Mayhaps he wants them with her, but such things are foolish to desire. So he refuses to.
————————————————————————
“How do you get your hair so straight?” Y/N wonders. “It used to have wave to it, like Aegon’s.”
“From the looks of Aegon’s hair he could do with better hygiene.”
“Be kind,” Y/N chides him. “He has beautiful hair.”
“If you want access to trade secrets, you must allow me to speak freely.” Aemond challenges.
“I love Aegon.”
Aemond nods. “Of course”
“And that is fine by you?”
He smirks, “you’ve only now thought to ask?”
“I had not thought so much of it before.” She admits, “but now it is all I can-”
“If it is my permission you seek to continue loving your husband, I have overstepped.”
Y/N bites her tongue.
“I doubt he is asking whores for their blessing to go on loving you.”
“I wish only to be fair to you.” Y/N searches his eye.
“From the moment you pulled back the curtain in the pleasure house, you have been unfair to me.” Aemond tells her, “made my heart ache for you, made me long for you, then left with my brother when you were through. It did not seem to bother you then.”
“I did not mean for this to happen.”
“I believe that is true. You are not wanton for the suffering of others, but sometimes these things happen.”
“I am finished, if you’re angry with me.”
“Has no one been angry at you before?”
“No.” She shakes her head.
“Then, I am honored to be the first.” He brushes a kiss to her cheek. “Before you go, I have something for you.”
Y/N swallows.
“Turn around.” Aemond murmurs, reaching into his breast pocket.
Y/N does as she’s told, catching only a glimpse of glimmering metal before it meets her skin. Clasping at the back of her neck.
Aemond walks her toward his mirror, brushing dark hair over her shoulders so she can see it properly.
“Why give this to me now, if you are angry?” Her brows furrow.
Aemond traces a finger along her collarbone. “You will find that people are multifaceted. We have imperfections and sharp edges, but we are a direct reflection of the light shone upon us.”
————————————————————————
The necklace is beautiful, enough that even Aegon takes notice. Raising the subject in their chambers unlacing the back of her dress. The material falls free, pooling at her feet. Leaving only her shift and small clothes, which soon meet the same end.
“That is a lovely necklace, darling girl.” He runs his finger along the glittering blue jewels, hanging above her breasts. It looks familiar to him, though he cannot say why. His wife is often dripping in jewels he’s gifted her. There is no way of remembering them all. “Was it buried at the back of your jewelry box?”
Y/N smiles, bringing his hand up to kiss his fingertips and then place them upon her breasts. “It was a gift.”
“From whom, my only love?” He forces a grin, kneading the fleshy mounds.
“Aemond.”
No. A blow directly to his gut. He nods, giving the peaks of her breasts a tug before letting them fall free, sensitive and aching. “Upon the bed, my heart.” He smiles.
Y/N returns the gesture, sitting at the edge of the mattress.
“Lie back for me.”
Y/N does as he asks, allowing her legs to fall open, out of habit.
“Good girl.” Aegon drops to his knees, pressing his face to the altar and begins to pray. Every cruel word spoken against him does not exist here. He is safe between her thighs, with gentle hands carding his hair.
He would spend hours there, if she let him. Ignoring the bite of overstimulation to soothe his need for her. His jaw aches, working her writhing body through one peak to the next.
“Fuck,” Y/N sobs. Fighting the urge to press against his head for reprieve.
Aegon takes her hands in his, knotting their fingers together. When he tires of all her squirming, he trails kisses up to her pretty face. Nuzzling her nose with his own as he thumbs away tears.
Y/N sighs, contently. Relaxing enough to calm her breathing.
Aegon lowers his face to her breasts then, rolling and plucking at her nipples until they stand at attention. Sucking them between his teeth, laving his tongue over them until they too are sensitive. He leans up, pecking one final kiss to her lips before heading back to her cunt.
He spreads her legs wide, until her outer thighs rest on the mattress and his hands grip the insides firmly. “I am not finished.” He whispers.
Y/N whines, covering her face with both hands.
“I will be gentle.” He hushes her. “So, so, gentle.”
She cries out at the feel of his tongue lapping her folds. Everything ablaze.
He draws one last peak from his dearest love before he is satisfied, leaving her a quivering mess. “I want another child.”
Y/N nods, willing to give him anything.
“Turn around for me, up on your knees.”
Y/N rolls onto her belly, pushing up on her elbows and knees.
“Poor, little thing, leaking all over.” Aegon croons. “Does my brother not satisfy you?”
��We do not lie together.” Y/N tells him.
“What is it you do together?” Aegon’s lips twitch.
“Talk.”
He huffs a laugh. “You could talk to anyone, dearest. Why him?”
Y/N lifts a shoulder, “he is quite fascinating.”
“Have you come to care for him?”
“In the way you care for your ladies, I would wager.”
Aegon blinks, slightly dazed, as though he’s never considered it. “I love nothing in this world the way I love you.”
“As I love you.” Y/N peeks over her shoulder at him.
Aegon lines up his aching cock, sliding into her warm, with ease.
Y/N sighs, relishing the feel of him.
Aegon’s thoughts are plagued by the stupid sapphire necklace, bouncing between her breasts. Glittering against the bedding in the soft candle light, laughing at him.
He’s caught off guard by the force which possesses him to move her hair aside and yank the chain until it snaps.
“Ah,” Y/N rears back, clutching the skin of her burning neck.
“I am so terribly sorry, my only love.” Aegon apologizes, gathering her up, with her back to his chest. “It caught on my ring.” He kisses what he can reach of her flesh. He shouldn’t have done it, he knows it was wrong and he hates that he’s hurt her. “I will buy you a new necklace.”
Y/N reaches a hand back to caress his hair, eyes brimming with tears. “It felt as though you tugged.”
Aegon nuzzles her shoulder, leaning into her touch. “I will never harm you on purpose. Forgive me.”
Y/N nods, “of course.”
He turns her face toward him, enough for their lips to meet.
————————————————————————
Aemond does not see Y/N again, not for two nights. Whatever hold the wench has over him will not allow him to surpass that.
He finds her pacing the corridor nearest the library, wringing her hands. “What troubles you, Princess?”
Y/N sucks in a breath, “Aemond.”
“You have not been to the library.”
“I thought it best,” she nods.
“Why?” He leans against the pillar beside her.
“I do not wish to hurt you. After we last spoke, I realized that…”
“You would rather pace in a corridor, inflicting your own suffering than harm me?”
“I suppose I would.”
“If I wish to speak with Aegon about us, would you be opposed?” Aemond asks.
“What would you say?” Her eyes widen.
He taps her chin, “that is none of your concern, sweetling.”
“I love him dearly.” Y/N says, grabbing for his hand.
“Our marriage would only further serve to strengthen your claim to the throne. With Aegon and I at your side, there would be no one to contest you. Your mother, the Queen would be elated to have your claim upheld so fiercely.”
“You raised this matter with my mother?” Y/N whispers.
“I had to be sure it was an option, as I know you will forever toil in servitude of the crown. An honorable venture, for which you will find yourself in need of a King Consort well versed in the histories and matters of the realm.” Aemond takes another step toward her.
“A generous offer,” Y/N nods. “Still I must discuss this with my husband before any decision can be made.”
“Of course,” Aemond smiles.
————————————————————————
Y/N does discuss it with Aegon that night and the mere suggestion lands him in his brother’s room, prepared to kill him.
“I offered you a kindness, to wean you off of that woman at the pleasure house and this is how you repay me? By spitting in my face?” Aegon screams, the veins of his neck pulsing and red with fury.
“While you are busy fucking whores, it is my company your wife seeks. It is her mind which needs stimulating, and however unfortunate, I do not believe you are suited for the task.” Aemond holds both arms behind his back, unfazed by Aegon’s outburst.
“Y/N is the most precious thing in this world to me. She is mine, she has always been mine, she is always going to be mine. Take her cunt, if you must, but nothing more.”
Aemond purses his lips, “we are at an impasse then. I am quite taken with the whole of her.“
“It was me she swore oaths to, my children that grew inside her, my hand she holds. What do you want of her?”
“Soon she will swear the same oaths to me.” Aemond muses, “when I lie with her, it will be my seed that takes.“ He lifts a shoulder, “if you are kind to me, I may allow you to hold her hand as I do it.”
Part 2
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hamilando · 4 months
Text
ੈ✩ i did not need to know that (smau) ੈ✩
pairing : charles leclerc x norris! fem reader
summary : With all the extra information being spilled, noriss’s sister spills something way important !
tw : a lot of sexual innuendos , cursing, chaotic af
fc: megan roche *she is so pretty-*
a/n : thank you so much to @xshazxx for suggesting this ! lysm 🫶🏻
·:。・゚゚・ ✩ ・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・ ・゚·:。・゚゚・ ✩ ・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・・゚·:。・゚゚・ ✩ ・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚
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liked by norissfr, lordperceval, lilihye, albono, maximilian and 76 others
norizzfr y’all my brother was not paying attention to Zak 🫷🏻
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mclaren Lando Noriss, kindly report to the office 🙌🏻
norissfr such a lovely sister 😒
norizzfr any day my loving brother 🧡
oscarpastry does the official McLaren account follow your private !?
norizzfr cuz the admin loves me 💪🏻
mclaren 🙌🏻🧡
norissfr admin… stay away from her
mclaren 🙌🏻🧡
jrchilli he never listened to me as well ☹️
norissfr oh shut up you no fish !
lordperceval damn, is it only my eyes but you look ugly
norizzfr if you care for you balls, you better keep that thing of yours shut
fernandoalonso yes Charles, don’t be rude
norizzfr 🤍🩵
lordperceval but i speak genuine facts 🫶🏻
norissfr dw charles, she can’t see that’s why she wears those huge ass balls on her face
norizzfr at least i am getting some balls -
norissfr i would rather have some 🐱 instead of 🐔
norizzfr EW BROTHER
albono i did not need to see that -
maximilian stop acting as if he is not sucking your balls everyday !
lordperceval can everyone stop exposing the dirty little secrets ?
hamsandwich charles, do you want me to start ?
mercedesgeorge lewis, remember the gold old times of us two in a tub?
carmenvroom sleep in the tub tonight then ! ❤️
norizzfr WHY THE HELL IS EVERYONE’S SEX LIFE BEING TALKED ABOUT IN MY COMMENTS !?
lilyhye i feel bad for you luv 🫶🏻
norizzfr thank you bubs 😤
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liked by norissfr, lordperceval, lilihye, albono, maximilian and 56 others
norizzfr my personal papprazzi @ norissfr
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norizzfr i am an elder brother, ofc i was blackmailed to click these 😌
norissfr i am a younger sister, ofc i will expose all your broken vases to mum 🤩
fernandoalonso My child, you should not be posting these on the internet with every other person seeing !
maximilian its her private account 😐
mercedesgeorge you commenting from your main makes me nervous as well
fernandoalonso i cant handle this one, you expect me to have another !?
lilihye no lube, no protection, all night , all day, from the kitchen to the bathroom -
albono babe, why are you telling are sex life again ?
lilihye WHAT !?
carmenvroom WHt!? alex it was a joke
norizzfr i definitly did not need to know my best freinds sex life but WHY THE HELL ARE YOU NOT USING PROTECTION
albono SHE ASKED FOR IT
hamsandwich please be safe kids 🙏
jrchilli where did you pop out of ?
hamsandwich my mom
lilihye ALEX SHUT UP
albono YOU ONLY TOLD ME STOP BEING QUITE “ LET ME HEAR YOU ALEX !”
norizzfr my comments always become someones sex life discussion
lordperceval wanna tell them about ours ?
norissfr EXCUSE ME WHAT !? Y/N !?
norizzfr i hate him more than toto could hate ferrari
mercedesgeorge true that 💪🏻
maximilian you look pretty y/n!
norissfr the only normal comment 😩 thank you so much max 🫶🏻
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liked by lilyhye, albono, norissfr, lord perceval and 64 others
norizzfr so yes, i do golf 💪🏻⛳️
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norissfr i was third wheeling the whole day !
albono us brother us 🙌🏻
norizzfr yall just jealous that lily loves me
lilihye I LOVE YOU 🫶🏻❤️
norizzfr I LOVE YOU TOO 🫶🏻❤️
maximilian suprised that hey found a stick shorter than lando 🧐
norissfr watch out for your next crash 😗
oscarpastry zak would not orefer that ☺️
mclaren Lando noriss in my office please - Zak
norissfr fuck, i forgot they follow her private, ADMIN UNFOLLOW HER
mclaren 🫶🏻🧡
lordperceval the first slide is making me see things 🙂‍↕️
norizzfr shut up before you see your own ass
lordperceval you have seen it though -
mercedesgeorge i think i am missing something -
jrchilli we missed a whole chapter -
hamsandwich kids these days 😌
norizzfr Sir Hamilton, you talk as if you dont have girls in your hotel room 🫶🏻
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liked by lordperceval, norissfr, maximilian, lilyhye and 82 others
norizzfr in my polaroid era 📷
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albono I-
mercedesgeorge did she mean to -
norissfr Y/N NORISS WHAT THE HELL !?
norizzfr why are you screaming for no reason ?
lilihye hun, who clicked the first two pictures ?
norizzfr my friend …
lilihye the friend is visible in the third slide 🙂
norizzfr fuck…
norizzfr CHARLES BABE I AM SORRY
lilihye HIS FACE WAS NOT VISIBLE !
albono she just exposed the guy herself 🪽
norizzfr oh. so i just exposed it myself ….
norissfr Yes ma'am , CARE TO EXPLAIN !? I THOUGH IT WAS A GUY AND WAS OK WITH YOU DATING ! BUT WITH FUCKING CHARLES !? CHSRLES LECLERC?
lordperceval they could not see my face bubs ❤️
norizzfr well atleast i would now not have to pretend to hate you 🫶🏻
lordperceval the prettiest love ❤️
norissfr can you both not ?
hamsandwich ew.
maximillian ew.
mercedesgeorge ew.
albono they were better hating each other
lordoerceval I LOVE YOU Y/N
norizzfr I LOVE ME TOO CHARLES
lordoerceval HEY! we agreed to stop hating
norizzfr I LOVE YOU TOO CHARLES 💌
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kagehisanotsu · 2 years
Text
living vicariously thru my sisters first year drama
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jkslipppiercing · 5 months
Text
Never Been A Friend | Part 2 | Jeon Jk
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♧ synopsis: Sneaky glances across the room weighed with a dozen different meanings left to be unsaid; confusion desire, lust. He was never a friend, was he?
♧ pairing: brother's bsf!jk, bratty!reader.
♧ warnings: jungkook is so pussy whipped it's hilarious, he's kinda in denial, masturbation but at the end, y/n is drunk, jungkook taking care of drunk y/n, jungkook curses like every other sentence, this is jk pov btw!!, kinda fluffy but really really cute, he loves her eyes, and i forgot what else, EXPLICIT CONTENT!!
♧ WC: 3.1k
a/n: hiiiii sweethearts! ive missed you guys so much 💕💕 make sure to read part 1 before reading this if you havent 🥹🥹 hope you enjoy and please tell me what you think!
Part 1
index
taglist
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“y/n?” I shake her shoulder softly, attempting to nudge her awake. “wake up.”
When she mumbles something unintelligible and trails off to sleep, I exhale a soft sigh and hop out of my car after pocketing my phone and keys.
I'm fucked.
Utterly fucked.
The ride to her brother and I's dorm had been one of silence. Other than a few grumbles and whines from y/n when I seated her in the passenger seat next to me, she spent the ride peacefully sleeping. Unaware.
So unaware that I had to reach over and tug the hem of her dress down each time it hiked up her thighs. Her bare thighs. Her full, smooth, silky thighs.
Fuck, man.
She makes my blood boil.
I’m still not over the fact that she was left alone and oblivious before her brother had called me. How long had it been?
What if I hadn't picked up?
What if something happened to her?
Am I exaggerating? Maybe.
Does that lessen my anger? Fuck no.
No, because how the fuck can a brother be so nonchalant about leaving his sister alone while drunk? All for a quick fuck?
He's never gonna hear the end of it. I’ll make damn sure of that, but for now, I have to get this drunk-out-of-her-mind girl up to my apartment dorm.
I had tried asking her for her address multiple times, but all in vain, of course.
I didn’t even know she was in town.
Thought she had stayed with her parents in her home town- which her brother had mentioned only twice, maybe even three times- after graduating high school. He brought it up in conversation once but never justified why.
I mean, sure, not everyone wants to go to college and that’s fine, but why hadn't she?
Was she more of a liberal person?
Did she figure out her future already?
Why do I care?
I shake my head as I round the front of the car to get to her side. Her head falls when I open her door, and I instinctively catch with my hand, hoisting her up so she’s in a properly seated position with her head on the headrest.
God, I can already feel the headache approaching.
Taking her seatbelt off, I pat her cheek to wake her.
“y/n.”
No response.
“Y/n, come on.”
I pat her cheek again.
Nothing.
Oh well.
Placing one arm under her knees and another under her middle, I carefully slide her out of the seat and carry her into my arms. Her breath tickles my neck as her head rests on my shoulder, her nose nudging my pulse.
Which skyrockets.
Fuck, that felt good.
But I don’t know how to feel about that, because:
1. This is y/n we’re talking about.
2. A little nudge to the throat has me weak at the knees?
3. Toughen up, dickwad.
She huffs as she adjusts her head and pulls her arms around my neck for support, nuzzling my neck farther before mumbling something that sounded like, “mmm, warm…”
Her head is nestled to the crook of my throat and her breath sends a shiver down my spine.
The fact that I have to catch the moan in my throat has my cheeks grow an embarrassing shade of pink.
Clearing my throat awkwardly- which causes y/n to groan at the disturbance- I try my best not to disturb this brat’s beauty sleep as I walk up to the apartment building.
Wait…something’s not right.
I stop my stride short to try and point out the prickling feeling-
This brat’s dress is so short it might be flashing her ass by the way I’m carrying her.
Jesus Christ, give me strength.
○○○
Wincing at the loud creak of the door announcing my arrival, I nudge the door closed with my foot as I step into my apartment.
A shared apartment.
An apartment I share with the almost passed out drunk girl im carrying in my arms’ brother.
Yeah, shit.
Never in a million years would I have ever imagined this shit happening.
It’s not that big of a deal, except I cant really help the intrigue that accompanies the thought that comes with y/n.
Why did she scowl at me the first time she met me? Had I done anything to cause her to show such an awful bad impression?
I must admit, I never stopped thinking about her.
Not in a stalker way of thinking. I didn’t think about her in an obsessive type of way…not at all.
I guess I could say it was just…weird.
I never understood.
I was just interested.
Interested in the way her hips move on the dance floor.
Interested in the way she acts like a brat whenever she feels like it.
Hell, I'm interested in the way she flips me off whenever we cross paths for the fun of pissing me off.
Yes, she gets on my nerves; but she was never worth throwing a fuss over.
I barely saw her once every two months, if we’re being honest. The college her brother and I go to being almost three hours away from where they lived, it was a long trip.
But the way I felt about this girl puzzled me way more than I’d ever appreciate, especially since I knew nothing about her.
Nothing. Nada.
Where she goes to college, where she spends her time living, what she does on a daily basis…
No clue.
Then…what the fuck is she doing here?
A pained groan from the girl driving me insane pulls me back from my raging confusion.
She clings to me harder like a baby koala as she mumbled something incoherent under her breath, snuggling into the crook of my neck into what seems like her favorite habit tonight.
That one motion has become my weakness in a matter of minutes.
All because of her.
She does it again, this time connecting her nose with a spot right under my jaw. Her lips just shy of the skin on my throat, she groans in what seems like satisfaction.
My knees almost fucking buckle.
I try to focus on any sound in the apartment, relieved when I'm met with silence.
With a resigned sigh, I make my way to my bedroom.
Keeping my footsteps quick and light, I shift my door open with my shoulder-
Fuck!
I cant help the grimace that makes its way to my face.
It fucking reeks in here.
Of sex. Right. I was having sex.
The second relief of tonight washes over me when I find my bed empty, the sheets rumpled and messed up on top.
I should probably make a call to apologize to the fuck buddy previously occupying my bed, but I got better things to do.
A particular brat to take care of.
God, she cant sleep in here when it smells like this.
Making a detour, I go for the couch, setting y/n lightly on her ass. Her hands tighten around my neck in protest, which causes my neck to crane down awkwardly, but it still makes me chuckle when she frowns up at me through her blood shot eyes.
Fucking adorable, that is.
How her lashes prettily frame those sad eyes.
Sad eyes I was always unable to forget.
Those sad eyes. My demise.
Fuck me.
I untangle her arms from around my neck, adjusting the pillows thrown messily around the couch to create a cozy , temporary cocoon.
Picking her up swiftly, I lay her down on her side and brush a stray hair away from her face. Her soft, soft, soft features peer up at me as she struggles to keep those pretty eyes open.
“You’re smiling.” The cutest little slur laces up with her words and I just cant fight the flutter in my chest.
What the fuck?
It’s then I realize how hard I’m smiling.
“I’m not.” Too rough. Too scratchy. Too fucking vulnerable.
She’s not even touching you, fucker, and here you are. All hot and bothered.
Shut up.
She giggles, the sound reverberating as the most adorable drunken giggle I’ve ever witnessed.
It pains me how oblivious she is.
Her dress hikes up her thighs, almost baring her ass to me, and in other cases I would’ve been turned on.
But now? My blood fucking boils.
I should’ve killed that fucker while I could.
I’d taken care of drunk girls before, most of them being my friends.
I’m the boring ass in the friend group that always stays sober to take care of the others. The others that get so drunk and messed up that I have to take them up to their apartment and put them to bed because of how out of their mind they become.
I’ve never thought much of it.
Never cared, really.
But this girl?
Goddamn it.
One second she infuriates the hell out of me; she’s stubborn, hot headed, and just reckless.
Irresponsible.
Then the other I’m smiling like a dork in love.
She’s not even my type for fucks sake.
But then again, this is the first time I’ve seen her like this.
So vulnerable, with her guard down. I tug her dress to cover her ass with barely restrained madness.
She reaches up to touch my face with what seems like the utmost amount of effort from her to make any movement.
“pretty.” As she touches my face with light fingertips and pink cheeks.
Crumble. I almost crumble.
“Yeah?” I don’t know what’s gotten into me when I push away another rogue hair strand as she giggles again.
“mhm.” A little hum of contentment before she drops her hand and flutters those eyes closed.
Softly, softly, softly.
With a step back and a tired sigh, I cover her up with a blanket as I tuck her in and make sure she’s comfortable.
I make pretty quick work with taking my bedsheets off, with utmost effort not to grimace every time I get a slight whiff.
It’s not that bad…it’s just…weird.
Really weird.
Whenever I picture y/n in my bed, every single fantasy that clouds my mind is inappropriate.
But tucking a girl in a bed that was previously used by another girl just hours before? Not to mention, a naked one?
That’s a douche move.
And I never thought of myself lowly or in any way to appear humble. But im also not a fucking asshole.
Im arrogant? So what?
Im confident. I plead guilty.
Cocky? Whatever floats your boat.
I tug at my sanity that hangs by a dwindled thread. My thoughts race back to a dreamy gaze and soft eyes. Adorable frowns and drunken giggles.
if it was as easy as bottling them up in a pitcher so I could drink her in every once in a while, I would’ve done it a while ago.
If I could, I would.
My mind was so caught up with her that I didn’t even notice how fast I’d changed the sheets.
I’d cracked the window open for a little ventilation and fetched an air freshener, which made the room smell decent. Better than decent.
A quick change of clothes and bedsheets later, Im carrying y/n from the couch to my room.
I lay her on the bed and nudge her awake.
“y/n?” a tap to the cheek.
Thankfully, she stirs awake. The drunken haze a little lesser than before, but nevertheless still there. Her eyes peer up at me, droopy with exhaustion.
I clear my throat awkwardly under her gaze, switching my weight from one foot to another.
“you need to change.”
Her eyebrows scrunch up in confusion as she tilts her head.
“your dress looks uncomfortable to sleep in.”
Excuses.
“left you one of my Tee’s so you could change.” I turn around and head for the door, giving her much needed privacy. “you have five minutes. Change.”
And with that, im out of the room closing the door behind me.
I lean back on the door and take my phone out of the sweats I put on earlier, purely for the decency of y/n being here.
I usually walk around in my boxers as well as sleep in them, but it’s too early to traumatize the girl.
Not even past unlocking my phone, y/n’s voice reaches my ear from behind me as she yells my name.
I knock, unsure if I should come in, but enter when I hear her confirmation.
Peaking my head into the small opening I’ve made through the door, my eyes land on y/n with her facing me.
Her eyebrows are pulled together in concentration as her hands are both reached behind her back, apparently struggling with something.
Her heels are off and her hair is messy from her running her hands through it, her mascara smudged and her lipstick almost completely wiped off.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen a prettier sight.
Her lips pull forward in a slight pout, and she turns around to grace me with a view of her halfway bare back.
She tugs harder at the zipper, only getting it stuck farther.
“help?” she asks in a tiny voice, looking above her shoulder with a helpless look.
Noting how long I’ve been standing in place, frozen and doing nothing, I clear my throat as I shuffle my feet towards her.
“oh, um, yeah.” Staggering for words was never my thing. Rubbing my neck was never my nervous tick.
Except…y/n was never my thing, either.
Her beautifully messy hair cascades down her back, and I bundle it up with a hand and rest it over one of her shoulders. My fingertips lightly touch hers and the distraction that accompanies the shiver rolling through her body at the contact clouds my focus. Her hands fall to be replaced with mine at the zipper, and I tug gently.
It doesn’t budge.
Okay, it’s stuck.
Obviously, genius.
When my knuckles graze her skin as I try to get a better grip on the zipper, she shivers again, a soft sigh leaving her lips.
Pretty baby’s a sensitive drunk.
A giggly, bubbly, and hella oblivious drunk.
Focus.
I pinch the frayed open sides above the zipper with one hand and tug it with the other, a concentrated rumble of my chest unconsciously making an appearance.
I’ve apparently shifted closer to y/n in the process, and I just now realize that I might’ve groaned in her ear.
When I successfully slide the zipper down just above the curve of her ass, y/n turns around with a grace I don't miss even as my undying lust for the feel of her skin remains unwavering.
“thank you.” Sounds barely audible from how breathless she sounds, and fuck, when she bites her lip, I want to punch myself.
Those lips.
Those eyes.
My cock restrains, stiffening at the images attacking my mind with her lips around it.
A gust of wind blows through the curtains, thrashing y/n’s hair in all different directions.
I tuck a piece of her hair behind her ear, knowing damn well I have no business touching this girl.
This girl that stands almost naked and drunk in the moonlit darkness of my room.
Her softness bothers me.
Her innocence a loud cry for corruption.
She reaches up to undo the strands of her dress, and the realization that she must’ve seen something in my eyes snaps me back into reality.
I was always told how much my eyes could tell.
And judging by my earlier thoughts, she must’ve seen it.
The darkness.
The lust.
She starts to slip her dress down, down, down, and my mind is nowhere to be found.
My cock hardens at the thought of her naked, submission written all over her.
But this is wrong.
So wrong.
Even as I step closer to her and bind my forehead with hers, my mind goes in all different directions.
Fuck her.
Shut up.
“Y/n.” a raspy attempt at a plead. “you’re drunk.”
She closes her eyes. “I want this.”
Fuck me sideways.
I know for a fact she doesn't.
I'm not stupid.
Even as my forehead stays pressed to hers, I don’t miss the tangy scent of tequila on her breath. Faint, but there.
I haven’t forgotten how red her eyes still are.
How dry her lips are from all the alcohol.
The pink tint of her neck and cheeks.
Alcohol is flowing more than freely in her system, and I know for a fact she also wont remember a thing.
“you don’t.”
So I do something stupid.
Something I know I'll regret by tomorrow.
I stop her hand that’s tugging her dress down and cage it between both of our bodies. I place my other on her neck, long fingers eating up the space beneath her jaw as my thumb rests on her cheek.
I stroke it once, twice, three times.
And I kiss her.
A small, feather-light peck on her swollen lips.
It's not needy, nor is it hungry for anything more.
It's something I crave to keep me sane, at least for the next few hours.
Because this girl?
This girl is a deadly thing that will destroy me.
She’ll destroy me before I ever get the chance to ruin her.
And the bad thing is?
Even as I pull away,
Even as I shove my t-shirt into her hands and bolt out of the room after telling her to sleep,
Realizing the fact that I didn’t regret it scares me.
Even as I grab a towel, strip bare, and lock myself in the bathroom,
I think about her.
The freezing water does little to calm the white hot lust in my veins, and my stiffened cock stands true to that statement.
I wrap my fist around my dick, and I dare to fucking think about her.
I think about her on her knees, mouth open.
I think about her on my bed, laying on her back with her legs open.
I think about her on top of me.
I close my eyes and I fucking think about those lips, those eyes, that dreamy gaze.
Her soft sighs.
How she’d kiss me.
Would she gasp into my mouth?
Cry into my pillow if I pounded her pussy from behind?
Would she beg?
She’d be my little slut.
My pretty baby.
I cum the hardest I ever have, a guttural grunt and an explicit “fuck.” into the walls of my bathroom. Alone in a goddamn shower, when im fisting my cock and thinking about someone.
No, not someone.
Fucking y/n of all people.
And guess the fuck what?
I want to kiss her again.
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raven-dor · 1 month
Note
Hi loves!!
I love your gwayne Hightower fics!
Can I have a request of gwayne x Targaryen reader (reader is rhaenyra’s young sis) where they are married for a while now then blood and cheese happened instead of jaeherys, one of their twins got killed 😔 and they’re both devastated
but still reader loves her sister (of course) and knows it’s not her fault
Thank you !! Sorry for any wrong grammars😅
are you satisfied?
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In which gwayne hightower and his wife, rhaenyra targaryen’s sister, experience a great tragedy
PAIRING: gwayne hightower x targaryen!reader
WARNINGS: death, fighting, typical HOTD violence, like three swear words, 'betrayal'
WORD COUNT: 3.5k
AN: gwayne and the reader's children's names are Visenya and Velarion, and the reader is the rider of Silverwing
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Gwayne always loved the fact that his wife’s violet eyes and bright white hair had transferred to their children. He thought his wife was far more comely than he, and he thanked the gods his children hadn’t received his looks. 
(Y/N made him swear to stop saying such things, that he was extremely handsome.) 
He smiled as his wife played hide and seek with their twins, pretending not to see their obvious hiding spots. She was an amazing mother, he told her as often as he could. His own mother had been cold, choosing court life over raising her children on more than one occasion. He had still loved her dearly, but it seemed, as he grew older, that that love was not returned. 
Over time, Gwayne had come to realize that his distaste for King’s Landing stemmed from his mother’s choices. When he had returned for the tourney celebrating the new heir, Prince Baelon, he found a reason to enjoy its high walls. Princess Y/N was a year younger than her sister, but it seemed as if she was much wiser and more deliberate in her decisions.
Because Y/N had loved King’s Landing, he had pretended to enjoy the place. He couldn’t stand to see the look of disappointment stretch across her beautiful face. 
So when Alicent sent a letter to Gwayne asking him to bring his family to King’s Landing, he couldn’t refuse. But he so wanted to. Y/N sensed his distaste immediately. She knew him too well, he would say.
His wife hadn’t wanted to return to King’s Landing either, her childhood home turned into that of a prison. Bringing their children, she argued, would put their whole family in danger. Gwayne had agreed, but how could he refuse the Dowager Queen? 
Y/N hadn’t supported Ageon’s claim, being very forthcoming with her husband when the topic arose. Gwayne remained stoic, never letting anyone know of his true opinion, not even his dear lady wife. If he had backed Rhaenyra, he reasoned with himself, his family would have been killed, and it wouldn’t have mattered that he was the Queen’s brother. If he told Y/N he supported his nephew, she would surely shun him. Which was almost as horrible as any punishment he could have received. 
Gwayne laughed as his son, Valerion, dashed across the room, hiding behind his father’s legs. The young boy looked up at his father, putting a finger to his lips. “Don’t tell her, Father.” 
Gwayne nodded, looking back to his wife, who was smirking. “Oh where, I wonder, is my little boy?” She looked over at the curtains, ripping it open. “He is such a clever boy, I am sure I will never find him.”
Valerion giggled, and Y/N whipped around, laughing. “What was that?” She looked to her husband. “Did you hear that, my love?” 
Gwayne shook his head, forcing himself to remain stoic. “I believe you are imagining things, my dear.” 
Valerion giggled again. “She’ll never find me.” 
Y/N practically bit her hand. “I keep hearing his voice…” She tiptoed over, jumping behind Gwayne and tickling their son. “I got you!” 
Visenya peeked her head out from under the bed. “Does that mean I win?” 
Gwayne let loose a loud laugh, gripping his stomach. “You are the champion, my dear.” He walked over, grabbing her from her hiding spot and spinning her around. “Bravo.” 
Y/N sighed, hugging Valerion tightly. Their son squirmed, pushing away from his mother. “Mummy please. I’m grown-” Y/N gasped, looking at her son with fake hurt in her eyes. 
“You are too old for embracing your mother now?” She sat him on the floor, pretending to cry. “You are six years old now, I should have known.” 
Valerion glared playfully at his mother. “Don’t cry, Mummy.” 
“I can’t help it.” She giggled. “Soon you’ll be gone and I will never see you again.” 
His eyes widened. “But I don’t want to leave!”
Y/N stopped ‘crying’ and looked down at their son with surprise. “Well, that is good news.” She picked him up, hugging him tightly once more. “I suppose you wouldn’t mind if I tucked you in then?” 
He shook his head. “Can you tell us a story?” 
Visenya nodded eagerly. “Please Mother.” 
Y/N sighed, like she was contemplating if she was going to tell them a story or not. “Well, if you insist…” 
Gwayne smiled, setting Visenya down. “Be good for your mother, you two.” He walked over, kissing Y/N on the cheek. “Don’t stay up too late, darling.” 
The twins looked repulsed, scrunching their noses. Valerion groaned.“Father…” 
He looked down, smiling warmly. “One day, your children will make the same noises of disgust at you and your wife, Valerion, and I will remind you of this day.” 
Valerion looked disgusted. “I will never marry. I will be free with my dragon, and we will fly across the seven kingdoms.” 
Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “If only it were that simple, my sweet boy.” She clapped her hands, ushering the twins out of the room. “Now, time for bed.” 
Visenya yelled. “And a story!” 
Y/N nodded, shutting the door behind her. “And a story.” 
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The twins' eyes drooped, but Y/N continued the story, knowing that if she stopped, she would be scolded. “And then Rhaenyra and I boarded our dragons, flew to Dragonstone, and retrieved our brother’s egg from our Uncle.” She smirked. “Your grandfathers were furious.” 
Valerion whispered. “Do you miss your sister, Mother?” 
Y/N nodded, her eyes tearing up at the thought. “Everyday my boy.” She pushed his hair out of his eyes, kissing his forehead gently. “Just as you will miss yours one day.” 
Visenya laughed. “We will never be apart. I will make sure of it.” 
Y/N smiled. “Goodnight children.” She stood up, walking over to her daughter and kissing her forehead. “Sleep well.” 
She took one last look at the pair, almost laughing at the fact that they were already asleep. She blew out their candle, shutting the door gently behind her. She had gotten halfway back to her chambers when a child’s scream echoed through the halls. 
Her blood curdled, and she whipped around racing back towards their chambers. Pulling her dagger out of its sheath, she pushed their doors open, whispering. “Childre-” Her eyes widened, and she glared, gripping her dagger tighter. “Who are you?” 
Two men stood in front of her twin’s beds, rat traps over their shoulders. The taller one turned around and Y/n recognized him immediately as one of the City Watchmen. His eyes widened. “Your Highness.” 
She put on a brave face, but her heart was racing. “What are you doing Sergeant?” 
The man ignored her, hissing at his accomplice. “This is the wrong room. He wouldn’t want her chi-” 
The smaller man interrupted, gesturing back to the Princess. “It’s too late. She’s going to tell.” 
Y/N shook her head, whispering so that her children wouldn’t wake up. “I won’t. Just don’t hurt my children, and I swear I won’t.” 
The small man ignored her, lowering his dagger towards Valerion’s neck. The Sergeant hissed. “That’s not who he wanted.” Reaching his arm out, he pulled the ‘rat catcher’ away from the bed. The ‘rat catcher’ jumped, and his knife fell out of his hand, plunging into her son’s neck.
Y/N gasped, a hand covering her mouth. The room was silent, none of them moving. 
The Sergeant looked panicked. “Your Highness-” 
A tear fell, and she looked up at the pair, whispering. “You are going to pay for that.” 
She walked forward, raising her dagger and plunging it into the murderer’s neck before either of them had the chance to defend themselves. She later would say that it served them right, they carelessly murdered her son, and so she simply returned the favor.  
The Sergeant pushed her away, grabbing his dying accomplice and racing towards the tunnels. She screamed, falling to the floor. Visenya stirred, her eyes opening slowly. “Mummy? What-” 
Y/N wiped away her tears, ripping her daughter out of her bed. She shoved Visenya’s face into her neck, whispering soothingly. As soothingly as she could for just witnessing her son’s murder. ”Go back to sleep my love.” 
Visenya’s eyes fluttered. “What about-” 
“Shh, my dear.” Y/N felt her eyes well up. “Shh.” 
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Tucking Visenya in on the couch in their shared chambers, Y/N stalked towards their bedroom, her heart beating against her chest. “Gwayne.” She hissed. He stayed asleep. Anger raced through her veins, how could he sleep through this? She shook him harshly, on the verge of yelling. “Wake up.” 
He grumbled, rolling over. “What is-” His eyes widened, throwing the covers off as he examined his wife. “You are drenched in blood.” 
“Gwayne…” She sobbed, falling to the ground as he watched helplessly. “He’s dead.” 
Gwayne felt worried, and sat beside his wife, rubbing circles into her back. “Who is dead, my love?” 
“Valerion.” She wailed, throwing herself into her arms as more tears streamed down her face. “Valerion!” 
Gwayne’s heart dropped. “What?” 
“They-” 
“Who?” He grabbed his wife’s arms, eyes piercing into hers. “Who?”
“I don’t know. Some rat catcher and a-” She sobbed again. “A City Watchman.” He stood and grabbed her hand, pulling her out of their room and back toward their children’s chambers. Y/N fought against her husband's hold, still violently sobbing. “No, Gwayne please do not make me go back.” 
He stopped, realizing that she had truly seen everything. “My love, we have to. We need-” He choked on a sob he hadn’t known was forming. “We need to be strong for a little longer.”
Without waiting for her response, he pushed the twins’ doors open, their son lying lifelessly in his bed. He let go of Y/N’s hand, racing over to Valerion’s side. He gently pulled the knife from his son’s chest, pushing his bright white hair out of his eyes. “My boy.” 
Y/N wailed once more. “Valerion, this isn’t funny, you’ve upset your mother.” His throat felt as if it was closing up. “Valerion, wake up right now.” He felt his son’s throat, finally accepting his death when he felt no pulse. He fell back, staring at the bed. “We need to notify someone.” 
“Who?” Y/N cried. “Alicent? My drunken half brother of a king?” 
“Anyone in the Keep, Y/N.” He stared at their son. “How did this happen?” 
She simply shrugged, climbing up off the floor. “I must leave.” 
His head whipped over, staring at his wife in shock. “You are leaving?” 
“I will be back, I swear to you.” 
“Where are you-” 
“Leave it!” She snapped, a rage in her eyes that Gwayne had never seen. He nodded, watching as she walked out of their children’s room and down the hall.
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Dragonstone was quiet, Y/N noticed. Of course it was, night still covered its dark walls. She landed Silverwing on the hill above the castle, stalking toward the entrance. “I demand to see my sister.” 
The guard laughed. “And you are-” 
“Y/N.” Rhaenyra stepped out from the shadows. “What are you doing here?” 
“My son has been murdered.” She slapped a hand over her mouth, another sob breaking out. “He’s dead, Rhaenyra.” 
Rhaenyra ushered her sister inside, out of the watchful eyes of her family and advisors. Rhaenyra closed her chamber doors, and sat her sister down, kneeling in front of her. “What do you mean-” 
“My son has been murdered. That is what I mean.” She glared at the older woman. “Did you-” 
“Seven hells, Y/N. Of course not.” She took Y/N’s hands in hers. “Do you really think that I would order the death of a child, let alone my sweet nephew?” 
“I just-” Y/N sighed. “I had to make sure.” Taking one last look at her dear sister, she stood, nodding. “I will see myself out.” 
Rhaneyra watched as her sister glided across the room. Just as the door opened, she cried out. “I miss you.” 
Y/N smiled. “I miss you too.” She’d almost reached the exit of the castle when she felt eyes following her every step. “Iēdrosa hiding isse se shadows, nyke ūndegon. (Still hiding in the shadows, I see.)” 
He stepped out, his face taking in the sight of his ‘traitorous’ niece. “Iēdrosa married naejot se hightower orvorta, nyke ūndegon. (Still married to the Hightower cunt, I see.)” 
She held her head up high, glaring at her uncle. “I’ll have you know that cunt is a good man. A better man than you will ever be.” Guilt flashed across his face, but she continued. “I don’t appreciate your insinuation that I support the usurper that is my half brother, and if you repeat that mistake again, you will have more than my words attacking you.” She nodded, walking past him. “Goodbye, Daemon.” 
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Visenya had been wailing for days. Wailing over the death of her brother, and wailing over the fact that neither of her parents could look at her without tearing up. The couple sat beside each other at dinner, scarcely eating or speaking. Alicent sighed. “It does your daughter no good if you die of hunger.” 
Y/N looked up from her plate, tilting her head, hoping she had just misheard. “What did you just-” 
Gwayne grabbed her hand tightly under the table, signaling to not pick a fight. “Quite right, sister.”
Alicent smiled. “We are very fortunate.” 
Y/N fought against her impulse to pull her dagger out and commit a massacre. “How so?” 
“That they had the children’s rooms confused.” 
Y/N squeezed her eyes shut. She must have been hallucinating. “Excuse me?” 
“I only meant it would have been quite catastrophic if the assassins had found Jaehaerys instead of Velarion.”
Y/N smiled, and she could tell it had unnerved Alicent. “Yes, because my son is much less important than the heir to the throne. Thank the gods it was Velarion instead of Jaehaerys.” 
Gwayne stilled, setting his silverware down. Alicent’s cheeks flushed. “I hope I did not upset you.” 
Y/N laughed, so loudly that the whole room stopped talking, staring at the woman drowning in her grief. “Of course not. You began upsetting me twenty years ago.” 
Aegon smiled drunkenly. “Sister-” 
“You are no brother of mine, Aegon. So do not start acting it because of this little spat.” She pushed her chair out, making an announcement. “We will be leaving at first light. This has been, by far, the worst encounter I have ever had with King’s Landing.” 
Gwayne raced after his wife, not even bothering to say goodbye to his family. “Y/N-” 
“I cannot believe you.”
“What?” 
“You just sat there, Gwayne.” She seethed, practically running down the halls. “Our son is dead, and you sat there and let your sister act as if it was a minor loss. An accident.” 
“My love-” 
“Don’t!” She snapped. “I am taking Visenya, and we are going to Dragonstone.” She stopped outside their chambers, whispering so that their guards would not hear. “I do not care where you go, but I do not wish to ever see your face again.” 
He sighed, walking into their room after her. “Y/N-”
“Gwayne, that is the end of our discussion-”
“No it is not!” He yelled. “I am grieving as well. You do not get to pretend I am not.” 
“Then show it!” She yelled back. “You have been silent for days. You do not defend me at dinner, you do not defend me at all. You sit there like you are dead yourself.” She scoffed. “You might as well be.” 
Gwayne was practically glowering. “Do not say things you do not mean, wife.” 
“I will say-” 
“Mummy?” The couple looked down, realizing they had just fought loudly in front of their daughter. Y/N crouched down, opening her arms. 
“Come here, my love.” 
Visenya faltered, and Gwayne watched as Y/N cracked, standing up. She barely spared a glance at Gwayne. “I will be sleeping in my own chambers tonight.” 
He shook his head. “No.”
She scoffed. “I didn’t realize you controlled me, my lord.” 
He widened his eyes, gesturing down to their daughter who was watching with wide watery eyes. “Y/N, do me this one kindness.” 
“Gwayne, I need to be alone.” She stepped back, walking towards her secret exit when his hand wrapped gently around her wrist, pulling her back. His breath hit her neck as he whispered. “Sleep in our bed. I will stand watch, and we will leave at first light for Dragonstone.” She turned around, her eyes wide. He looked determined, and in that moment, Y/N understood that he would do anything to keep them together. Her heart skipped as he bore his soul to hers, his voice heavy.  “I will not have my family thrown into chaos and ruin.” 
Her eyes were teary as she whispered. “Thank you.” 
He nodded. “Go to bed.” He turned back to their daughter, carrying her over to her makeshift bed. Visenya’s sweet voice could be heard whispering to her father. “Did I upset Mummy?” 
“No my dear.” He kissed her head gently. “Your mother is hurting, as am I. Never forget that we love you dearly.” He tucked her back into bed. “Sleep tight, little one.” 
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It had been surprisingly easy to escape the Red Keep. Y/N gathered it was because they did not think anyone would want to leave, which made her laugh. Who would want to be held captive in such a place?
Gwayne never understood how Targaryen’s flew dragons like it was as simple as riding a horse. Being this high up horrified him, but his wife and daughter enjoyed it immensely. Visenya giggled as she reached out, grabbing a cloud with her bare hands. “Father, open your eyes!” 
Y/N laughed. “Your father is frightened, dear.” 
Gwayne scoffed. “I am not. I’m simply-” 
“Scared!” Visenya laughed. “I thought knights were supposed to be brave, Father.” 
Gwayne gasped, clutching his heart as he forced his eyes open. “Are you calling me a coward, young lady?” 
Y/N smiled, forgetting for a moment that their family had been torn apart only four days ago. “Hang on.” 
“Hang on?” Gwayne questioned. “Why-” 
Silverwing dove, and Gwayne felt the air leave his lungs, clutching onto his wife’s waist. “Seven Hells!” 
Y/N laughed, her hair flying in the wind. “Enjoy it, my love!” The great dragon landed roughly on the same hill she had visited days before. Helping down Visenya, she smirked as her husband clambered off of her dragon’s back. “Careful, Gwayne.” 
“I am-” His leg caught on the saddle, and he fell backwards, causing his two silver haired beauties to burst into tears. “Do not laugh.” 
“It is quite difficult.” Y/N’s violet eyes glittered in the sun. “Come down, we have much to do.” 
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Y/N held Visenya close to her as they approached her sister and her family. Gwayne trailed behind the two, looking around the room skeptically. Rhaenyra sat tall on her throne. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit, sister?” 
Y/N bowed deeply. “Your Grace, we come to swear allegiance to you, and ask that you allow us to stay with you on Dragonstone.” 
Daemon laughed. “And why would we-” 
With one look, Rhaneyra shut Daemon. “That is not necessary, Y/N.” She stood up, embracing her sister tightly. The elder sister looked down, waving at the young girl. “Hello, little one.” 
Visenya smiled shyly, clinging to her mother’s form. Y/N laughed, whispering. “Visenya, this is your Aunt Rhaenyra. Say hello.” 
Rhaenyra laughed. “Hello, Visenya. You are the spitting image of your mother.” 
The young girl blushed, smiling. “Thank you.” 
“Mother, what is the meaning of-” A tall, dark-haired young man sauntered in. “Y/N!” He rushed over, hugging her tightly. “How-” 
“I was most tired of the 'hospitality' of King’s Landing.” She smirked. “If one could call it that." She stepped back, taking in her grown nephew. "My, you have grown. Last I saw you, you were half your height.” 
He scoffed, glaring playfully. “Yes, well…” 
Rhaenyra clapped her hands. “Let us show you to your rooms.” She put her arm through her sisters. “You must be exhausted.” 
“One moment.” Daemon’s voice rang through the throne room. “What about her traitorous husband?” 
“Daemon-” 
Y/N glared. “What did I tell you would happen if you said that again?” 
Daemon laughed. “I would like to see you-” 
Gwayne's auburn hair blocked her view of her uncle, standing in between the two. Y/N smiled. Standing in between two angry Targaryens was a recipe for death, and yet there her husband stood, stoic as ever.
“Please.” He turned to the King Consort. “I know that my family has done nothing but hurt yours…” He spared a look to his wife. “But you must understand that my love for your niece has overcome any loyalty I once had to my family.” 
“How can we be sure you will not betray-” 
Gwayne hissed. “They are the reason my son is dead. I will never forgive them.” 
Daemon nodded. “Very well.” 
Gwayne nodded back, turning to his wife. “Let us go rest my love.” He kissed her temple, following after the queen. “I believe we have earned it.”
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taglist: @beebeechaos
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cameronspecial · 7 months
Text
Mrs. Cameron All But In Name
Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader
Warnings: N/A
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 0.7K
Summary: When Y/N has to burrow Wheezie's phone to text Rafe, she notices something interesting about her contact name.
A/N: Inspired by this post.
Masterlist
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Y/N and Rafe have been dating for three years now and it is clear they are meant to be together. If it weren’t for their young age, Y/N is sure they would be married or at least engaged by now. They practically act like an old married couple anyway, so when they do tie the knot, it would only really be for legal reasons. With dating Rafe, came a close relationship with his sisters. Sarah and Wheezie have practically become her own siblings and she loves to spend time with the girls. In fact, it’s why she has a bi-monthly girls' night with the pair. Yes, every time they have it they have to chase Rafe out of the house, but Y/N thinks it is important to foster the bond between them, so he always begrudgingly leaves to hang out with Kelce and Topper. “How are things with you and John B?” Y/N questions while tracking the nail polish brush along Wheezie’s nail. Sarah shrugs as she files her nails, “We’re fighting right now. He doesn’t want to go to the Nassau house with us and I want him to go.” “Aww, that sucks, Sweetie. I’m sure he’ll come around. Do you want me to have a talk with him?” Y/N offers. Sarah shakes her head, “No, it’s okay. We’ll make up eventually. We just need to cool off a little.” Y/N nods and finishes off the last coat of Wheezie’s nails. She releases the hand, “There you go, Beautiful. What colour do you want, Sarah?” 
Sarah places the nail file on the table and examines her options before picking up a salmon pink polish from the collection. Y/N gets to work on doing the older Cameron sister’s nails, “How about you, Wheezie? Anyone on your radar you want to tell us about.” Wheezie lips pucker as she squints her eyes. “Nahh, I am happy being single. I see what you and Sarah go through with John B and Rafe. I do not need that type of problem,” she informs. The other girls giggle. Y/N checks her phone to see it is dead, “Amen to that, Wheeze. I mean look. My phone is dead, but how much do you want to bet that your brother is blowing up my phone right now asking me when he can come back home? Can I please borrow one of your phones to tell him my phone is dead while I charge mine?” “Of course, here,” Wheezie says, unlocking her phone so that Y/N can use it. 
She places the nail polish on the table and scrolls through Wheezie’s messages to find the texts with Rafe. A certain contact name second down the list catches her eye. Y/N Cameron. She freezes at the sight. Her eyes flick toward the younger girl, “Why do you have my last name as yours?” Wheezie’s cheeks redden and her gaze falls away from her brother’s girlfriend. “Rafe did it. He said that it’s going to be your name eventually, so what difference does it make,” Wheezie states. Y/N chuckles with a shake of her head, “That doesn’t surprise me at all.” She types out her message and hits send. My phone is dead, so don’t freak out if I don’t respond. I’m charging my phone rn. -Mrs. Cameron.” 
———
His phone chimes and a massive grin crosses his face. He checks his text, feeling his heart flutter at the message. So she found out what he’d been saving her name as in everyone’s contact. He chuckles. It took her long enough to find out. He’s been ordering everyone to change her last name in their contact for years. His smile doesn’t wipe off as he responds. Come on, Baby. You know you are my Mrs. Cameron all but in name. You can’t blame me for wanting to make the process easier for everyone else once we do take the next step. 
Smh. You really are something else, Mr. Cameron.
But I’m your something else, Mrs. Cameron, but you know you love me.
You are lucky that I do. Now, I’m going to end this conversation here before you start dirty-talking me. I’m not subjecting Wheeze to those texts.
You know me so well, Baby. 
Goodbye, Rafey. I love you.
I love you too, Baby. I’ll see you when I get home.
Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming
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flowerisevil · 2 months
Note
Gwayne Hightower x Targaryen reader where she is Rhaenyra’s sister and daughter of Viserys and Aemma, she is pregnant when they visit King’s Landing and she has the baby so Alicent calls her as she does with Rhaenyra and Gwayne gets furious about it even more when Alicent insinuates that their son is not Targaryen so from then on he is team black.
Devotion
Gwayne Hightower X female reader Targaryen
A/N: I hope its okay that I use an original female character and i don't if i understand your request right but yeah here it is I hope you enjoy. Happy reading mwa!
Disclaimer: grammatical/typographical errors ahead, englisn is not my first language.
Warning: mention of blood, child birth, cursing, and no use of Y/N. Please tell me if I miss anything.
//
The married couple returned in Kings Landing from Oldtown for the King's funeral, the second born princess Targaryen along side her husband and her growing belly arrived at King's Landing, the princess was expecting to see her elder sister Rhaenyra only to hear that she had already departed with her family to Dragonstone.
"Your sister s-she is rather not very pleased to be here" the Queen explained of her sister's departure with her new husband Daemon.
"How is your pregnancy daughter?" Alicent asked, changing the topic.
The princess rub her belly as she smiled "It is great though a bit struggle happens"
Gwayne her husband held her hand that was caressing her stomach, as he joined their conversation "My wife pregnancy is very delicate, it is her first pregnancy and the maesters said her body needs a lot of rest"
Otto nodded in acknowledgement "I am happy for the both of you, you seem to grow fond of each other"
The couple smiled, they did indeed. "We truly did and Daeron in Oldtown is one of our witnesses" Gwayne chuckles, the poor boy was tired seeing the two couple always on each other like what a newlywed partners would do.
Alicent sighs at the mention of her youngest son "and how is he? Daeron?"
"He is doing good, a boy full of wit, a good sword fighter" the princess explained ".....he is very kind your grace, a soft hearted child, his heart has a space for animals" she added, her youngest half brother was a great boy, far away from them. He is a chivalrous boy.
"I should talk to the both of you outside, may I?" Alicent turned to them, the couple simply nodded as all of them walked outside the chamber.
"I wish for your wife to give birth here in Red Keep" Alicent said, the princess frowned but before she could give reaction her husband spoke first.
"I wish my child to be born in Oldtown, why you must decision for that?"
Alicent looks resigned to her brother's fire backs.
"It is an order from your Queen" was all the Queen say before she entered the room, shutting the door before them.
Gwayne's clenched fist softened as she caress it. "We shall give it to them for now Gwayne, there's nothing we could lose for giving them a small favor"
Gwayne rolled his eyes "Oh please that is my sister, and I am a Hightower I know how one thinks"
Gwayne was never unknown to the small resentment his sister Queen had for his wife, even before Alicent was a young lady she had always envied the younger princess, the princess was smarter, kind, beautiful, she was like a glowing light walking through the halls of the Keep, everyone pleased her, and when she was on the right age for marriage she was married to him, the heir to Oldtown and a knight. She had the life his sister was deprived of.
And he knew Alicent has some plans behind this little show of hers.
And he was not wrong.
His wife give her the favor, she gave birth between the walls of Red Keep, her screams and groaned echoed all over the Keep, they can hear her dragon Silverwing roaring for her rider.
"Lord Gwayne you shall not enter, you should be somewhere else or perhaps on the training grou-" the servants shuts when his collar was tigtly gripped.
His wife birth was no jest, the Maesters had informed them before her birth that her body was weak, and she might be carrying a boy for having such a hard labor.
"Don't you understand my wife's condition? She needs me, let me in" Gwayne scowled but his request was denied as the servants pulled him away from the room.
One of the Maesters came out, his face full of worry "My Lord, the princess"
"How is my wife?"
"The princess...she is trying her best my Lord but I must be honest with you, I have both a good and bad message to deliver" the Maester exhales before he continued. "The good one is that the princess is able to push half of the babe's body"
Gwayne wanted to smile, he will finally have an heir and child that he had hope would taken the look after his beautiful wife but knowing that the news has a bad new to come, he can't help but worry for his princess.
"And what is the other one?"
"The babe was rather in an unfortunate position, in birth the head of the babe should be the first thing to come out but in her condition it is unfortunately the other way around"
"You mean my baby's head is still stuck inside of her?"
The Maester nodded "and it is quite dangerous my Lord, we might lose the babe"
Gwayne nodded but frustration covered his face, what would happen to his wife and child?
"Unless my Lord you wish to cut open the princess to save-" the Maester wasn't able to finish his words as he stumble on the ground from Gwayne's singld punch.
"You will do no such thing, what you will do is save my wife from that horrible state whatever it takes, my wife shall come out of that room fine and alive, you hear me?" He command, his knuckled has some blood stained from punching the man.
The Maester nodded and walked back inside the room, Gwayne sat on the cold floor, they will have to save his wife one way or another.
"Your father wish to see you Ser Gwayne" one of the guard approached him and spoke.
"I do not wish to leave my wif-"
"The Lord Hand wants me to tell you it is urgent" the guard continued, Gwayne groaned out of frustration, slowly standing up and walked to his father's office.
On the other hand the princess was lie down on the bed, blood was everywhere.
"Your grace, another push please you are doing well" one of the midwives encourage. Another scream filled the room, stained tears on her cheeks.
The nursemaid and midwives encourage her more, as she continued pushing out the babe inside her, her situation was hard to watch, as they looked at her filled with concern for the princess, she looked tired and breathless. Some of her handmaidens that was present was tearing seeing their princess crying out from pain.
Another scream filled the room once again.
"It is a boy!" The Maester finally announced. Holding a baby boy on its hands, the room filled with cheer as they ran to the princess, immediately handing her help, some wash their sweat, some clean her up.
She smiled as she saw her son being washed and wrapped, she was still shaking but she insisted to hold her child. A boy...an heir for her husband.
The cheering stop as they all looked at the door opening revealing a concerned servant "M-my princess...the Queen s-she uh"
"What of the Queen? Speak clearly"
"She said that she wish to see her grandchild, and you aswell, she wish for you to deliver her grandchild to her" the servants finished, murmurs, shock gaps and whispers filled the room, looking concerned for the princess.
The princess sigh, so this why she wants her to stay here? To have something to play with?
She stood up, legs shaking, her whole was is shaking rather, the nursemaids guide her to carry her newborn son.
"Princess....you're body is still trembling, you shall not walked around the castle or els-"
"Who are we to deprive the Queen a sight of her grandchild" she smiled weakly, as she embrace her son and start walking through the Halls, her whole full of sweat and blood still dripping on her legs.
The news arrived Gwayne's ear, one of his men bargen inside his father's office sending the news of his wife's succesful delivery, Gwayne stood up and left the room fast, his knight walk fast closely to him.
"But my Lord the princess has already left her delivery room, the servants said she immediately left as soon as she gave birth" his man informed.
Gwayne stopped his footsteps.
"They said her Grace had asked for your wife's immediate presence after her birth"
That mad woman. Gwayne was so done of his sister, she is nothing but a horrible Queen, he let her and their father do whatever they have wanted in this castle, corrupting the King, ruining the life of his wife's older sister but he would not let him take advantage of his wife's kind nature.
Gwayne ran as soon as he saw her walking through the halls, his mouth opened but no words came out as he saw her state. Trembling, body covered of sweats and bloodstains, her dress was not very appropriate to see, and his fist clenched as he saw the path of blood dropping from her legs as she walk. Was this is the sigh his Queen sister wish to see?
She wasn't suppose to even raise a finger after her horrifying birth but now she is walking around carrying their babe. He ran to them and cautiously held her back.
"My wife, where are you going?" He tried to sound calm to not show any hint of frustration and anger on his voice.
"Oh ask your dear sister, my love s-she wish to see our child" her voice was hoarse it sounded to frail almost like a whisper from all the screaming she made.
His jaw clenched, he looked at his men and ordered him to bring a nursemaid as soon as the nurse came he told her to carry their child inside the room.
"Gwayne but the Queen-"
"I would have the talk with her, you shall not worry she will be able to see our child when the right time has come, and that right time is when you finally have a rest and sleep" his voice was soft but full of authority, he slowly lower himself to carry her in bridal style.
His eyes cannot lie and his wife can see it, she see right through him. The anger she can almost see what she is plotting inside his head.
The princess lean on his chest. "Do not let anger took over you Gwayne, talk to her nicely"
Oh he would definitely do have a nice talk with his cunt sister.
"Please Gwayne, I would not wish you to be in trouble"
"She took advantage of you darling, how do you wish me to react when I see you trembling as blood drip from your legs walking through this long fucking halls of castle nothing but fragile? Do you wish for me to celebrate?" Gwayne sarcastically spoke, he hated her wife for being a too much proper but he also loved her the same way.
"I kinda wish you do, I gave you a boy. An heir" she smiled, her eyes sparkles as she look over the maid who was carrying their child, Gwayne smiled looking over the babe.
"I am happy more than happy actually, but I would not want to put you in that situation again"
"It is normal state they said"
"Still I would not want to risk you again, I am happy with you no matter with heir or none but now I have a young version of you, I would have more very reason to go home and wake up everyday"
She was his life, she made him whole, losing her would be a big tragedy to him, the day he vowed to her that he will love her with all he can offer, he did not just love her, he stayed and place his faithfulness to her.
As he slowly placed his wife om their chamber, he send her handmaidens and Maester to look after her, clean her and check if she need something to be mend.
He barged inside the council room knowing they will be their, the members looked at him, Otto spoke first breaking the silence.
"My son, as far as I remember you do not have a seat in this room to attend to"
Gwayne scoffs, as he eyed for his sister. "Is this your plan? Why you wanted my wife to give birth here? To make her suffer?"
"It is the King's dying wish"
"Oh I believe is it? Just like how his dying wish is to fucking crown Aegon as his heir, despite your son being brainless smug"
"To say that such thing to the prince is treason, what is it that makes you so angry Gwayne?" Otto tap his son shoulder but he immediately pull back.
"Your Queen, made my wife walk through the halls right after she gave birth to our child, have I not told you that her pregnancy is risky? Yet you made her walk instead of giving her the time to regain her energy"
Alicent snapped a look at him, the two children of Otto Hightower faced each other. "I wish to not harm her, I simply wish to see her and my grandchil-"
"Is that really it? Or perhaps you are so envious of seeing my wife live the life you wished you had?"
A deafening silence filled them, the members each switch looks between the Queen and Gwayne Hightower.
"You shall not touch my wife anymore and so is our child, we will leave here as soon as she recover" Gwayne discussed. Otto approached his son.
"What about your army? we need them incase Rhaenyra declares war after we declare Aegon as King" Otto explained.
Gwayne chuckles, the audacity of his father to think that he will give him his army.
He did not answer them instead walked out the room, he will make sure what they did to the princess will be delivered to the future Queen Rhaenyra.
//
She arrived at the chamber, she was welcomed by the sight of his beautiful wife holding their child, he slowly walked to them sitting on the edge of bed beside his wife.
"We will leave here tomorrow, I can and will not go another days with those cunts around you and our son" Gwayne spoke, caressing his wife's silver white hair, he sighed as he continued to reveal another thing.
"They plan to make Aegon King"
The princess turned her face to him, her face was confused hoping she heard him wrong.
"They know Rhaenyra is the heir, the future Queen of the realm our father made it known before he died, he declared her as his heir" she explained, she and Gwayne were both there as she was declared the rightful heir to the throne.
"I know but those two said it was the dying King's wish, I do not believe."
"We shall go to Dragonstone and send words to Rhaenyra..." She trailed, something in her was nervous what if Gwayne would not side with her?
"Yes we must, as soon as possible my love and make it clear to your sister that we bend our knee for her" Gwayne leaned his forehead to hers, his gaze moves to their son.
The boy had her eyes, lilac gaze, he had his nose and lips.
This is all what Gwayne had asked and wished when he married his wife, a whole family but with the upcoming war he knows they will have to be extra careful.
He will bent the knee for Rhaenyra but his wife and son's safety would remain a top of his list.
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ragingbookdragon · 8 months
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Price finds her in the equipment room doing a rather meticulous job of cleaning their weapons, but he also notices that the only set she currently has out, is none other than the side-arm and knives owned by their resident Lieutenant.
“Quite rare to see you here on a Friday night,” he says, taking a seat across from her, grabbing an oiled rag to start cleaning with. “Shouldn’t you be going out with Gaz and Soap for drinks?”
She pauses, looks up and then lowers her gaze back to the firing pin she’s cleaning. “Didn’t feel like going out tonight, Captain.”
“Didn’t feel like it or didn’t feel like seeing ‘you know who?’”
“You know?” She asks and he shrugs.
“It’s my job to know everything that happens within the one-four-one.”
“I thought that was Miss Kate’s job?”
Price smiles. “We share responsibility.” He methodically rubs the rag along the parts of the side-arm, his expression and voice becoming rather calm but she feels the air turn a little stern, if almost a fatherly stern. “You’ve been avoiding him.”
She makes a noise in her throat. “I can’t exactly talk to him. Look what happened last time.”
“He feels bad.”
“I’m sure he does,” she retorts, looking at him. “He really hurt my feelings. What am I supposed to do, tell him it’s okay? That we can move on like he didn’t tell me I’m clingy?” She stops, looks down at her hands. “I sound like a fucking child.”
Price hums. “You actually sound like a person who’s had their feelings hurt and you’re not sure how to proceed.” He dips the rag in a big more oil. “I know it doesn’t equate what he’s said to you, but allow me to fill in some blanks you might have on Simon.”
She cocks a brow. “Okay?”
“Simon was the oldest child of two. Abusive dad, terrified mom. Younger brother used to terrorize him too.” He goes back to cleaning the gun parts. “Nine-eleven had Simon enlisting, came back after a lull, kicked his dad out, got his brother sober and even found himself the proud uncle of a nephew named Joseph.”
“Where are they now?” She asks. “Simon’s from Birmingham, right?”
“He is,” he answers, but his face and voice are void of any hope. “But they’re not anymore.”
She blinks, feels the shift in temperature. “They…moved?” She hopes; he meets her gaze, and she knows instantly. “Oh…I…how did it…”
“I don’t want to divulge Simon’s past without his permission, because it’s also his own choice to tell you what happened, but I can tell you that Simon had a personal vendetta against the man and others who hurt his family. And he took care of it.” Price inhales and exhales. “In doing so…Simon sacrificed himself. He made himself—“
“A Ghost,” she finishes, and he nods.
“Simon, when it comes down to what he truly is beneath his cold stoicism, my dear, is simply a very tired and even more broken-hearted man who believes that if he keeps everything and everyone at a distance, then nothing can hurt him.” Price sets the weapon and rag down. “He likes to think he’s incapable of feeling but don’t let his demeanor or words fool you, Simon feels more deeply for the people he loves more than anyone I’ve ever met.”
Something aches in her chest, rising up to close around her throat as she asks, “A man like him…he can still love?”
He smiles half-heartedly. “I’ve seen the man run back through a burning building to pull Gaz out. I’ve seen him run through gunfire, take a bullet to the thigh and keep going to carry Soap.” He nudges her under the table. “I’ve even seen him pull your ass out of even stickier situations. If we viewed Simon how he wanted us to view him, it’d be easy to call him a heartless bastard. But he isn’t as heartless as he wishes he was.”
“That just shows he’s doing his job as our superior officer,” she counters weakly. “He’s doing it because it’s his duty to get his subordinates out.”
“Does it ever just feel like that?”
“…no.”
Price gazes on her like a father to his daughter with her first heartbreak. “What do you feel right now, puffin?”
She purses her lips, looks down at the various weapons on the table before she admits, “I’m still hurt. His words keep replaying in my mind. I’m clingy and I’m always around.” She fiddles with the fraying hem of the rag. “That I’m a bother.”
“Would it make a difference if I told you that I don’t think such things?”
She shrugs.
Price blinks, reaches up and rubs his chin thoughtfully. “You can be very excitable. Sometimes, I think you let it get the better of you and you often forget that others don’t always have the same personality as you.”
“Excitable is the polite way of saying annoying.”
“If I wanted to say you were annoying, I would’ve. You genuinely are a good and wholesome person, my dear. But you have to remember that everyone has a different level of extroversion. Sometimes, we have to tone it down a bit.” He meets her gaze and she knows his is full of honesty. “Simon doesn’t actually hate you. And he probably feels a tad bit of annoyance, but then again, he always does regardless of who it is, because Simon hates anything that makes noise. But I also know that he feels bad for what he did and said to you—and he wants to make it right.”
She takes in his words. “Do I need to engage him first? Extend some olive branch for peace?”
Price rises from the table and smiles, walks around and pats her shoulder. “Nah, let him come to you.”
“You really think he will?”
“I do. He knows what he’s gotta do and he’ll do it because he knows it’s the right thing to do. But he’ll be skittish. He’s like a newborn deer.” He winks. “Let him mull over how he wants to do it. As for you,” he points at her. “You’ve gotta move on from this. Learn from it. And stop ignoring him and avoiding him like you’re a ten year old. Be a grown-up. Act professional and be polite. I will not let this effect the team any longer than it is. Am I understood?”
She swallows thickly and nods. “Yes, sir, Captain Price. I promise.”
Price smiles and pats her again. “Go on. Soap and Gaz headed to Purecraft.”
“But the Lieutenant—”
“Is in the training room working out,” Price waves her off. “Go. Have some fun. Get some drinks, talk to Tweedledee and Tweedledum.”
As she gets up, she pauses and looks at him. “Captain?”
“Hmm?”
“Thank you.”
Price’s eyes crinkle around the edges. “You’re welcome, Puffin.”
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vanteguccir · 8 months
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── ୨୧ ! 𝗧𝗥𝗨𝗧𝗛 𝗢𝗥 𝗘𝗔𝗧
         𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader
SUMMARY: Where Y/N participates in the TRUTH OR EAT video from behind the camera.
WARNING: None.
REQUESTED?: Yes, from @mxqdii
AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.
   ༻✦༺  ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
Y/N and the triplets were in Matt's car, Chris and Nick sitting in the back seat while the only girl there sat next to her boyfriend in the passenger seat. The camera used to record the videos on the Sturniolo Triplets channel was positioned in its usual place as it stared back at Y/N.
The car had just entered the Taco Bell drive thru line when Matt reached over and clicked the button to start recording, his right hand going straight for his girlfriend's left thigh while his left handled the steering wheel, stepping on the accelerator carefully until the four's turn arrived.
When the car stopped next to the order window, Y/N stretched a little to her left, getting closer to Matt so that the attendant could hear her clearly, starting to list the order, having previously asked for the boys what they wanted to eat.
Matt gave her a quick look of gratitude, which the girl responded with a sincere smile, knowing that he wasn't feeling up to talking to a stranger that day.
It didn't take long for the order to come out and a few minutes later the four were home again, Nick organizing the tripod that would hold the camera facing the kitchen counter while Matt and Chris sat in their respective places, Chris holding the box with the order.
Y/N chose to sit behind the camera on a pink bean bag chair that she retrieved from her shared room with Matt, sitting comfortably with a tray on her lap, where her order was still unopened, opting to wait for the boys to start eating for her to do it too, this being a custom created by them.
Soon, Nick clicked the record button, and the video intro began. Y/N watched them with a small smile on her face, her hands free having chosen to put her phone away to give her full attention to the triplets' work that day, just as she did every time she participated in some way.
"Have you ever had a crush on a teacher?" Chris asked the first question, his left hand holding the half-open black notebook as his face was turned towards Matt and Nick.
Matt finished swallowing what he had in his mouth, his right hand raised holding the taco in the air.
"Yes." He responded quickly, shrugging. His blue eyes quickly glanced at Y/N, who was trying not to laugh, already knowing the story.
"Teacher's pet." Y/N hummed, Nick's head turning to her quickly, a big smile growing on his face before he joined her on the singing. "If I'm so special, why am I a secret?" They sang together while dancing with their hands, laughing loudly.
Matt brought the taco back to his mouth, taking a bite, ignoring his girlfriend and brother before smiling with his mouth full as he heard his brothers yelling at him to wait.
"Really? Does Y/N know about this?" Chris asked with a smirk, looking sideways at the girl, receiving a nod from both sides.
"Yes, and I don't judge, I also had a crush on a teacher." She said, taking a bite of her own taco.
"Tell me more about that." Nick asked, his eyes going from Matt to Y/N repeatedly.
"You don't want to know." Matt replied with his mouth full, earning chuckles from the two beside him. Nick looked at Y/N, waiting for her to tell Matt's story or her own, despite her not being in the game.
"Don't look at me." She said, raising her arms in surrender, showing to him that she wouldn't say anything.
Nick and Chris rolled their eyes at the lack of information, the older one making a mental note to ask Y/N about it later before clicking on his phone screen, making the countdown start again.
"What's your guilty pleasure song, and when was the last time you listened to it and got into the groove?" Nick asked after telling Matt to finish chewing his last bite, positioning the open notebook with the covers up and holding the neon green highlighter in his right hand, an eager smile on his face.
Y/N let out a laugh muffled by her hand, already knowing what the answer would be since it was technically her fault.
"Hmm... I'll have to check the exact one on my phone." Matt said, taking his phone out of his pocket and unlocking it, opening his music app.
"Is there more than one?" Chris asked in a curious tone.
"Maybe. Actually, I don't have a song that I'm exactly embarrassed to listen to, but I do have songs that I prefer to listen to alone or with Y/N." Matt replied, pressing his lips into a thin line trying to contain his smile as he opened the playlist shared with his girlfriend, thanking himself internally for using a privacy film, preventing Nick from seeing the name of the playlist and the songs there.
Matt rolled his thumb across his phone's screen, stopping at a specific song before pressing play, the angelic opening melody of Only Angel by Harry Styles starting to play, Nick and Chris having to lean in and almost cling to Matt to be able to see the name of the music and it's artist.
"Harry Styles?" The oldest asked in a surprised tone, widening his eyes and looking at Y/N, who was smiling big while following the female voice from the beginning and making gestures with her hands as if she was holding an invisible guitar.
Nick quickly paused the song before it went over the allowed time and got copyright on the video.
"She's a devil in between the sheets." Y/N hummed again as she crumpled the paper that previously wrapped her taco, having finished it, receiving disgusted looks from Chris and Nick while Matt smirked.
"It's her fault and her obsession with Harry Styles." Matt said, shrugging as he locked his phone and put it back in his pocket.
"So Harry Styles is your guilty pleasure, huh?" Chris joked, smirking and raising his eyebrows.
"Don't be weird." Matt pushed his shoulder, rolling his eyes.
"This song is great, don't even start." Y/N argued from behind the camera, huffing.
Chris scoffed and waved his hand as if it wasn't all that, taking the notebook back as Nick clicked the button for the time to start counting again, Matt going back to eating his taco.
"Time's up!" Nick spoke loudly when the countdown hit 0, clicking on his phone screen and watching Matt put the last piece of his second taco on the table, finishing swallowing what he had in his mouth and looking at Chris.
"What are the first three things that you look for in a significant other?" Chris asked as he looked at the open notebook, before underlining the question asked and closing it.
Matt looked past the camera, his eyes meeting Y/N's as a smile spread across his face. He knew all three by heart, hell he knew all three, ten, twenty and all the things he looked for in a significant other, because Y/N had them all.
He learned and discovered everything he wanted in someone he loved with her, after all the girl was and is his first girlfriend and they would already complete four years together. The two grew out of adolescence together and learned important things about themselves together as well.
"First, that she knows how to communicate." Matt began, holding up the index finger of his right hand. "Communication is very important in a relationship, and I had to learn this along with her. As you already know, I have anxiety and this has hold me back many times in my life from saying what I was feeling or what I wanted, generating a greater discomfort in me and future fights. When Y/N and I started dating we were 16 years old, we were still new to everything and as the days and months of dating went by we learned together that the ideal was: we felt uncomfortable about anything? Call your partner and tell them right away, to try to fix that or improve the situation in some way, because we saw that when we kept it inside, it always generated fights in the future. So communication is the key and the first thing."
"They grow up so fast." Nick sniffled playfully, pretending to wipe away an invisible tear.
"That was such a beautiful answer, Matt." Chris said while clapping his hands with an exaggerated expression of pride, leaning over Matt and hugging him from the side. Matt rolled his eyes at the two, a smile spreading across his face as he patted Chris on the back.
Y/N let out a laugh with the brothers, shouting in encouragement to her boyfriend, who let out a low laugh, lowering his head in embarrassment.
"Can I continue?" He asked, covering his face with his hands to hide his flushed cheeks, speaking again when he saw his brothers fall silent and gesture for him to keep going. "The second one isn't as serious as the first, but if she can rock on a man's polo shirt." Matt said, raising the middle finger of his right hand, making a total of two raised.
"Like, wear a man's polo shirt and look cool with it on?" Nick asked, turning to face Matt, who nodded.
"Y/N can wear anything and look good, it's no wonder she goes to college to become a fashion designer and is a fashion influencer on Instagram and Tiktok." Chris commented, passing the black notebook and green highlighter to Nick. Matt nodded as he pointed his hand at Chris with an "exactly" look.
"And she always takes my clothes from my side of the closet and uses them in the outfits she puts together and it always looks really good." Matt added like a pround boyfriend.
Y/N smiled behind the camera, she loved it when the boys spoke highly of her clothes, creating her outfits every day was her biggest hobby.
"And the last one I think is just goals and aspirations of her own. Y/N was always a very dreamy girl and thought about what she wanted to be in life since I met her when we were 14, and not only that, but she went after what she wanted and and always reached them." Matt finished, raising his ring finger before lowering all three fingers he had up.
"Matt, you're so..." Chris began, trying to complete the sentence but getting lost in the good words he could use. "I loved hearing your answers. They were really good." He finally finished with a big smile on his face, his voice getting high pitched with the happiness used when expressing himself.
"Yeah, your relationship is an example of a good relationship. It's very beautiful to see how much you've evolved together, it's no wonder that you're going to complete four years together." Nick commented, a look of pride spreading across his face as he opened his notebook to look for the first question he would ask Chris.
Matt looked at Y/N beyond the camera, a goofy smile appearing on his face at the sight of her lovey dovey gaze.
"I love you." She spoke voiceless, blowing a kiss in the air that Matt pretended to catch and put in the pocket of his hoodie.
"I love you more." He replied voicelessly as well, before finishing his taco and switching places with Chris.
Y/N's heart warmed as she rethought Matt's answers, a feeling of pride spreading through her body. She loved him so much and had so much appreciation for the relationship they had built together. She hoped that they could always grow more and try to be better people every day together, too.
     ༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺
extra - comments:
"I lived to see Matt listening to Harry Styles."
"Harry being Matt's guilty pleasure, I get you, Matt."
"The communication part is so real and so important to say!!"
"Matt seems like a super thoughtful boyfriend 🥺"
"omg, 4 years together, that's so cool 😫."
"I love Matt and Y/N together so much!!"
"Y/N and Nick singing Teacher's Pet together 😭"
"I adore Y/N's friendship with Chris and Nick!!"
"Petition for Y/N to do a GRWM just with Matt's clothes ✏️📄"
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1K notes · View notes
zaldritzosrose · 2 months
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A Banquet of Consequences (Regent!Aemond x Wife!Reader)
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Summary: It was not the lies that Sylvi spewed that upset you, nor the fact she had once been your husband’s comfort. It was her insistence that, even now, she would be his choice over you. You had always been one to believe that actions begot consequences, and Sylvi was about to be served a banquet of them.
TW: MINORS DNI, she/her pronouns, afab reader, oral (m receiving), mentions of sex work, profanity, sexual innuendo, p in v sex, forced voyeurism (Sylvi watches), allusions to imprisonment and violence
Words: 3188
Thank you, @anjelicawrites and @@kaelatargaryen, for this idea, and to @anjelicawrites , @legitalicat @thenameswinter99 for betaing!
(Before anyone comes at me...Yes, in canon Sylvi is paid/persuaded to say the things she does by Mysaria. No, I am not saying she's some evil, deplorable human. It's just a story.)
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You paced the floor of your chambers, scarcely believing the words your handmaiden had brought you.
“A banquet! They believe we are banqueting while they starve!” you were visibly seething, hands clenching and unclenching at your sides.
What was worse, was who the lies seemed to spill from. Sylvi, the madame your husband had once sought comfort in. You never begrudged Aemond that your marriage had not begun as one of love and affection so to hear him seeking those softer endeavours elsewhere had not surprised you.
But on being interrupted by his brother, Aemond had come to you and admitted everything. Sounding torn between anger and guilt. He had been forgiven and your marriage now seemed better for it. He came to you when he needed comfort, when he needed a soft embrace to calm the storm within. And you welcomed it with more than open arms.
So, to now hear that same woman spewing lies about him, it made your blood boil. You were not usually one for rage, Aemond had enough for both of you. But since the change in your marriage, you had felt ever more protective of him.
“That is what I heard, my lady, a worrying thought indeed.” Your handmaiden was gentle with her words, hoping to calm you even a little.
You stopped pacing, a plan forming slowly in your mind.
“Say nothing of this to anyone, especially my husband.”
The young girl nodded, bowing her head as she left you.
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Aemond had taken his regency in his stride, ensuring he ruled with both strategy and fear. His methods may not be loved by all, including you at times, but he did what he believed was right.
When he met you for your usual walk in the gardens, he noticed a tense set to your shoulders, and he knew better than to not ask about it.
“Is everything alright?” he asked, watching every small change in expression you took as your arm linked with his.
You could not tell him, not yet. You needed to be sure your plan would bear fruit before you mentioned a single word to him.
“I am fine, husband, nothing to concern yourself with.” You replied, offering him a smile even he could see did not reach your eyes.
Aemond only hummed in response. You were usually open with your emotions, even with him, so to see you so closed and tense meant there was something bubbling beneath your surface.
As you walked, you could see him glance at you every so often, as though he was watching for some break in your calm façade. But you kept yourself as reserved and stoic as you were able to, knowing everything would be revealed soon enough.
The note Sylvi received was quite unexpected.
Your presence is requested at the command of his Grace, Prince Regent Aemond Targaryen.
She had not seen the prince since he had stormed out of the brothel after Aegon’s torment. What she did wonder, though, was whether he heard the rumours she had helped spread. There were many a listening ear in the city, even within her own walls. Not all of them were under her control.
But she knew better than to disobey. The prince was not known for his forgiving nature.
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You hoped your note had been received and understood. The gold coins placed in the hand of a passing squire had surely been enough for it to be passed on. You could only hope that Sylvi would believe it was truly from Aemond himself.
You had made sure further instructions were given by the squire. For Sylvi to come to the Keep that evening, alone. For her to then be shown to Aemond’s chambers and to await him there.
Only then could your plan find its beginning.
Aemond, for now, was none the wiser. Though he was observant enough to know something was amiss with you, but after your first dismissal of the topic, he was reluctant to bring it up again. 
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Aemond was still busy with his council meeting when you made yourself comfortable in his chambers. You had dressed yourself in the jewels and fabrics he loved on you most. A dress of black lace with a green underlayer, and the emerald and sapphire necklace he had made especially for your last nameday.
You seated yourself by the fire, the candles burning low and bathing the entire room in a warm, but dim glow. There was something about the harsh décor and dim lighting of your husband’s chambers that gave you a rush of something sinister. Making your whole plan seem even more perfect.
Wine had been poured and the cup sat snugly in your hand while you waited. And soon the knock you had been anticipating came. The servant you had instructed to bring Sylvi had been ordered to take your lack of response as a sign to enter. You could not risk your presence being revealed too soon.
The look on Sylvi’s face when she saw you was more delicious than you had expected.
“My lady…?” Sylvi could barely hide both her surprise and disappointment, making no secret of the way she scanned the room for any sign of Aemond.
“My husband is not here, yet.” You replied, taking a long and purposeful sip of your wine.
You extended a hand, gesturing for Sylvi to sit and when she hesitated you gave the verbal command.
“Sit, we will wait together.”
Your voice was cold enough for you to visibly see the shiver run over Sylvi’s body. Her face set now into a mix of fear and concern for her own safety.
“My apologies for any misunderstanding, my lady, but the summons I received was from the Prince?” Sylvi tried to sound confident, but the whole situation had her on edge.
“Was it? Can you be sure of that?” you asked, swilling your wine around the cup.
When Sylvi said nothing, you continued.
“Maybe the note was as much a lie as the ones you have been spreading through the city?”
There it was; the fear in Sylvi’s eyes. You had never thought yourself a person who would enjoy revenge or the fear in others. But you found yourself thoroughly enjoying this. Your head tilted, a small smile on your lips.
“Did you think it would go unnoticed? That the venom you spread would remain secret?”
Sylvi shifted in her seat, getting more uncomfortable in your presence by the second. You could almost hear the cogs of her mind turning.
“What I said may not have been entirely truthful, but there is no lie in saying the smallfolk suffer while…” Sylvi seemed to catch herself before she truly put her foot in it.
But you were not going to let her off so easily. She was freely admitting her role but there was another question you wished to ask.
“Did he truly reject you so badly you must now sully his name?”
The change in her expression gave you a rush of satisfaction. From fear to anger.
“Rejection? Your husband chose me time and time again over you, my lady.”
It was your turn to seethe, of course she would bring that up. But you were not prepared to let her get under your skin.
“He may have come to you first, but Aemond returned to me. He remains with me. He only paid you.”
Sylvi fidgeted with the tassels of her shawl. There were things she wanted to say that would surely get her imprisoned, if not worse for speaking ill to the Regent’s wife. But her jaw was set tight, her lips a thin line. In her heart, she knew the truth. Aemond had come to her to get what he could not get from you. The gold he paid had meant little to her.
“He may have paid me, my lady, but the bond we shared is something you will never achieve.”
Her words had your glass slam to the table beside you. Was she truly trying to claim she was his favourite, even now?
You were about to retort when the doors opened and Aemond strolled through. The prince looked at you, then Sylvi, then back to you. Confusion clear on his face.
“Have I missed something?” he asked you, his brow raised as he crossed the room to stand by your seat.
“I heard some things that are quite…concerning, husband. Slander about yourself, our marriage and your regency.”
His lips quirked a little at your tone, the faintest trace of mischief. Maybe this is what you had been hiding when you would tell him you were ‘fine’. Aemond came to stand behind you, leaning on the back of your seat and keeping his eye trained on Sylvi.
“Hmm? Do tell, sweet wife.”
Sylvi shifted in her seat. You were not a stranger to the intense stare Aemond had, having been on its receiving end many a time. You let her stew a moment longer, your own eyes never leaving her.
“Tell him what you just said to me.” Your voice held enough of a command that Sylvi knew she had no choice but to answer. And she knew exactly what claim you referred to.
“I…I claimed you preferred myself over your wife, my prince,” she said softly, the tension thick in the room to the point of suffocation.
Aemond could not help the smirk on his lips. He knew there would be more, but that claim was very curious.
“Do you believe because I paid for comfort during a time of weakness, that I would choose you over my wife?” Aemond almost whispered the words, the low grumble of his tone almost as deadly as when he shouted and raged.
Sylvi stuttered, the first time since she arrived that you had truly seen her afraid. There was no denying Aemond was far more immediately intimidating than you. Your hand raised and laced your fingers with his. In the time since he had admitted his secret to you, your bond had only strengthened, both in public and more private endeavours.
“That is not the only vileness she weaves, my love.”
Aemond tilted his head down to look at you with intrigue.
“Our dear Madame has spread vicious rumours that you are throwing lavish banquets with whores and dancers while your people starve.”
Before either of you could utter another word, Sylvi leaned forward and grasped at your hand.
“Please, my lady, I did not spread such lies by choice. The Lady Mysaria sent word and I only obeyed…” Sylvi’s voice was desperate, her grip on your hand like a vice. But you felt no sympathy.
“So, you are a traitor as well as a liar?” you asked, tugging your hand from her grip.
The pleading in her eyes would likely have endeared you, had she not insulted the marriage you had tried hard to rebuild.
“And what is more, you dare to still think you hold the Prince’s favour over me?”
Your hand tightened around Aemond’s. Part of you knew she was wrong, that your husband had truly chosen you. But there was that small, vicious part of your brain that made you doubt it. Aemond could see the tight set of your shoulders, the small signs of anxiety as you chewed on the inner skin of your lip.
“Is that what you think, Sylvi? That I would still choose you?” Aemond asked.
Sylvi thought for a moment, there was no way out of this. She was already painted a traitor for the lies she had spread against Aemond and the crown, nothing she would say would bring about mercy.
“If you did not favour me, then you would have not continued to return, my prince.” She said simply. Despite knowing Aemond routinely refused her more carnal advances.
Aemond hummed, leaning down and whispering to you.
“Shall I show her who I favour, sweet wife?”
The low thrum of his voice sent a shiver down your spine. Aemond was not usually one for public affections, even in such a small group. His hands found your shoulders, stroking the sliver of exposed skin. Sylvi looked more than confused, moving to stand as though she needed to leave.
Aemond noticed immediately.
“You will sit.” Aemond’s eye darted immediately to Sylvi, who seemed to freeze.
Aemond left your side and stalked over to her, a smirk finding his lips. His proximity was enough to have Sylvi returning to her seat.
“You will sit, you will watch. Then I will deal with your other…indiscretions.”
He then turned to you, extending a hand which you gladly took. You let Aemond lead you to his bed, his other hand pushing the chair you had vacated out of Sylvi’s line of sight completely. You were slow to shed your clothing, letting Aemond drink you in and in all honesty, putting on a show for Sylvi. To prove you were the better woman, for more your benefit than anyone else’s.
Aemond pulled his lip between his teeth as he watched you, one by one undoing the buttons that held the outer layer of your dress closed. But you knew that look, you had come to know it quite well more recently. The look that told you there would be no teasing, no waiting. That he was in charge now.
When your dress finally fell to the floor, only then did Aemond undress himself. Shedding layer after layer with little to no care, his intent solely on you. It was his hands the tugged the rest of your dress from your body, followed quickly by your smallclothes. You did not even bother to hide yourself, even from Sylvi.
Soon Aemond was as bare as you, his back to Sylvi as his hand tilted you up to look at him by the chin.
“You know how I want you, wife…” Aemond growled low in your ear, pressing a heated kiss to the skin beneath it.
You knew immediately what he wanted. To show you off, to let Sylvi see for certain who held Aemond’s desire, love and everything else. You crawled on to the bed, kneeling to face him with a small smile on your face.
“Then come, lay down, husband,” You even beckoned him forward with your finger.
Aemond sauntered forward, sliding onto the bed beside you and lying so his head rested at the foot of the bed. You were quick to straddle his thighs, your hands rested on the taut muscle of his stomach. It had become Aemond’s favourite position to have you in, his way of letting you know just how much he was choosing you. Surrendering to you. Proving you were worth more to him than anyone, especially a whore.
You leaned down, his hands finding your waist and squeezing.
“Shall I put on a show, or do you simply wish to be well pleased?” you whispered, your voice low enough for only Aemond to hear.
You could already feel him hardening under you simply from your proximity. His hips canting up on instinct. But the wicked look in his eye told you exactly what he wanted. You let yourself slide down his body, lips trailing down his bare skin until you reached his hips. Only then did you let your teeth graze his skin, nibbling at his hips bones until his back arched just a little.
Your eyes flicked to Sylvi; your lips pressed to Aemond’s stomach with a smirk. She looked uncomfortable, yet unable to tear her eyes away. There was a difference, you were sure, to seeing her girls work in her brothel. This was more intimate, yes, but in no way that benefitted her.
You held her gaze as you continued your path down Aemond’s body, slowly but surely making your way to his leaking cock. His hips already rising to meet your waiting mouth. The groan that left him when you finally took him in was sinful and you relished every moment. Taking each inch of him, as much as you could while his hand tangled in your hair. With hollow cheeks, you let him slide in and out of your mouth. His skin slick with your spit and his hand tight in your hair.
You alternated your ministrations between his cock and the heavy sack of his stones, bringing him closer and closer to release until he pulled you away with a heavy groan. It was rare he spilled himself in your mouth, preferring the warm depths of your cunt more often.
There was no hesitation when you moved high enough to sink down, letting yourself moan in satisfaction as you felt him sink to the hilt.
“Always so warm and tight for me, sweet wife…” Aemond groaned out, his hands back to your waist as he urged you to move.
Your rhythm was slow and steady, rolling your hips as your pearl rubbed perfectly against the coarse silver hairs at his base. His hands urged you to move faster, your own rested on his chest to steady yourself.
Aemond groaned loud as he felt you clench around him, your release already so close. He sat up, latching his lips to one of your breasts, suckling as you rocked your hips faster and faster. Your hand in his hair holding him to your chest as your head fell back in pleasure.
His name was the only word on your lips as you peaked, losing all rhythm as Aemond tipped you back to find his own release. With you splayed blissed out against his sheets, his hips slammed into your heat, his face buried between your breasts as he panted your name. Soon you felt the hot ropes of his spend coat your walls, his grunts muffled against your sweat-soaked skin.
“No one feels like you, made for me…fucking made for me…” he growled as hips slowed to a stop.
It was easy to forget that Sylvi was even there, her eyes glued to the sight before her as if she feared the consequences of looking away. But when Aemond rolled off you and his seed dripped out onto the sheets below, you could only feel pride. He panted next to you, while you raised yourself to your elbows, looking at Sylvi with a smirk.
“Do you still believe yourself better than me now?”
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The sound of Sylvi begging for mercy could be heard as she was escorted from Aemond’s rooms. You knew Aemond would not take her lies lightly, especially those directed at him. Anyone who knew him would know he would show no mercy, that he would use her as an example to anyone else who believed they could do the same. Aemond had followed close behind, having dressed himself quickly to ensure Sylvi was taken straight to a cell below.
You, however, had a bath drawn and sank into the hot waters. You understood now why people would seek revenge. The satisfaction that settled in your stomach made you feel warm and relaxed.
And to know you had asserted your dominance as a wife? That was the most satisfying of all.
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Aemond Taglist:
@blissfulphilospher @elaratyrell @multyfangirl
@tumblin-theworldaway @legitalicat
@thenameswinter99 @aemondsbabe @sylasthegrim @arcielee
@hoosbandewan @kaelatargaryen
If you wanted to be added/removed, please let me know!
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nebulaafterdark · 3 months
Text
At The Pleasure Of The Crown (Part 2)
Summary: Aegon and his wife regularly visit the silk streets. One night they happen upon Aemond behind one of the curtains, the rest is history.
18+ ONLY MDNI Targcest, smut, infidelity, manipulation, etc.
Aegon Targaryen x Velaryon(Strong)!Reader
Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon(Strong)!Reader
Part 1
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Aegon and Aemond have been at war from the time they were boys. Over what exactly, neither can say. For Aegon’s part, he’s never truly known the love of his mother, not the way Aemond did. Mayhaps that is where it started.
The tree remembers, the axe forgets.
Despite the teasing his elder brother inflicted upon him, Aemond wanted only to win his approval; and that of his father. Marrying Y/N boosted Aegon’s worth in Viserys’ eyes, while Aemond remained the boy irreparably damaged, over an insult.
The tree remembers, the axe forgets.
Then of course there is Y/N, the only daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen; used as a means to broker peace between warring houses since she was no more than a child. Made to ease the suffering of those around her, at great personal expense.
The tree remembers, the axe forgets.
Each of them shaped by unsteady hands, hoping only for the best.
The tree remembers, the axe regrets.
Over the moon turn since Aemond hath inserted himself upon their union, not one of them has known peace. All angry or pining for another, because of a misunderstanding. Because of a book, because of a sword fight, because of a single glance.
Even seated round the council table, Aemond stares at their entwined hands. Love is a curious thing, in all its different forms. Y/N is never going to love him the way she does Aegon.
“What will my children call you?”
“Aemond, or uncle. Same as they always have.”
“What will your children call me?” The wound is still fresh, raw and aching as Aegon presses against it.
“It will be nearly impossible to tell…whether they are yours or mine, until they are grown.” Aemond admits, “I suppose they might call us both father.”
Y/N buries her head in her hands, sick with the guilt of what she’s done.
Dying in the name of love is noble sacrifice, killing one’s self to love another is a senseless endeavor.
“Sometimes these things happen.”
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“Are you not speaking to me?” Aemond asks, when he manages to get Y/N alone.
“What difference does it make? My words mean little to you.”
Aemond sighs, “I apologize for my lapse in judgment. I should not have said those things to Aegon.”
“Knowing what he means to me, how could you be so cruel?” The princess snaps.
Aemond purses his lips, “my brother made fun of me for the whole of my life. I saw an opportunity to return the favor. I am sorry for it.”
“Is that what this is to you?” Y/N whispers, “is that what I am to you? Revenge against your brother, at long last?”
“No,” Aemond growls, “you are…you know what you are to me.”
“Speak it.” Y/N insists, “tell me what I am to you.”
Aemond closes the space between them, taking her face between his hands. “You are my friend.”
“And that is enough for you?”
“If that is all I’m allowed.” Those who are starved will eat anything.
“Even if we were to marry, it would not be fair to you. I love Aegon, I will always love him. We grew up together, he and I. Day and night for ten years, we have been together. I enjoy your company and I should like to keep it, but I am in want of a friend. I have a husband.”
To be so tragically entangled.
“It matters not if he is studied in the histories, or if he holds interest in matters of the court. So long as I am studied, so long as I hold interest in the court. The duties are mine, the burdens are mine.”
“I only wish to help you,” Aemond breathes.
“You can’t,” Y/N shakes her head. “You cannot help me. You cannot come into my life and uproot it. I’ve children, Aemond. Aegon’s children, who need my love and affection more than anyone.
Children who grow up in the absence of love spend the rest of their lives wanting for it; no matter how much they are given. Like pouring into a bottomless cup, endless and painful because it never fills. It is cracked from the time they are small and can never be fixed. I’ve seen the difference between children born of love and those born of duty. My children will know which they are.”
“Who fills your cup once he’s drained it?”
“The gods provide.” Y/N swipes at traitorous tears, threatening to fall. “They always do.”
“Whores then,” Aemond understands. Why the pleasure house, why the wine, why the constant thirst for knowledge. “I could fuck you as well as any.”
Y/N turns away from him. “It would mean something more to you and…”
“It would not mean a thing to me.”
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Aemond makes his way to the silk streets, tearing back curtains, until he spots the silver sheen of his brother’s hair. Pressed back into a pillow as one of the brunettes works herself over his cock. It is not lost on him, how much the pretty little thing resembles Aegon’s wife. “I need a word with you.”
Aegon huffs a laugh, feeling the woman above him begin to pull away. “Ah, ah,” he chides, “you stay right there. Doing the gods’ work, you are.”
The woman sighs, happily, “thank you, your grace.”
He gives her hips an affection squeeze, before turning his attention back to Aemond. “What is it you need?”
“I was hoping to apologize, for the way I have conducted myself.”
“All is forgiven, brother.” Aegon waves a dismissive hand. “My wife is an endearing mystery, it is not your fault for taking interest.”
Aemond cocks his head to the side, “to what do I owe your sudden change of heart?”
“Y/N and I talked,” Aegon grins. “Whichever parts of her you are stimulating, do it well for me. Tell her I love her, while you’re at it.”
Part 3
Series Taglist : @oh-you-mean-me @callsignwidow @iliterallyhavenoideawhattosay @cluz1babe @visenyareads @kiwibaekie
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mattitties · 9 months
Text
Boyfriend - matt sturniolo
creepy guy at a bar, matt pretends to be your boyfriend and flirting ensues
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“Vodka cran for me and a whiskey sour for my friend,” I tell the bartender, looking around for said friend. My best friend and roommate was invited to this event tonight through her work, so of course I came along with her, but now she’s nowhere to be found. I pull out my phone not only to text her, but also so I can look occupied so nobody comes up to me.
wya
bathroom brb
I put my phone in my pocket as the bartender slides me the drinks and a check. I shoot him a quick smile, pay the tab, and pass it back to him. I grabbed the drinks and turned around, wanting to find a table where I can wait for her to return to me, but instead I’m met with a tall blonde guy smirking right down at me. He’s muscular, has piercing green eyes, and has to be at least 6’3. He towers over me, and I’m immediately intimated and slightly annoyed as I really had no intentions of talking to men tonight. 
“Hey,” he smiles. “I’m Ben. I saw you from over there and wanted to introduce myself.”
“Uh huh…” I nod. I’m usually a very friendly person, but this has not been my week and I wanted nothing more than to not be talking to this man. “Well, nice to meet you Ben, but I really gotta get back to my friend.” I begin to shift to the left so I can make my way around him, but he moves to block me. I stare up at him, silently begging him to move.
“What, you can’t even give me a minute? Come on, just tell me your name,” he insists.
I sigh. “I’m good, thanks for asking though!” I soon realize that playing the sarcastic card was a mistake, as he starts to lean in, his arm blocking me from moving anywhere. 
He’s about to open his mouth when I feel someone come up behind me and put his hand on my arm. I turn my head and am met with another guy who is basically the polar opposite of the man in front of me: brunette, blue eyes, fairly skinny, and probably about 5’8. Despite me saying I didn’t want to talk to men tonight, whoever this mystery man is is exactly my type. I couldn’t help but stare not only because he’s hot as fuck, but because I definitely recognize him from somewhere. 
“Hey baby, sorry the line for the bathroom was crazy,” he says. “Who’s this?”
I pause for a moment, not realizing at first what was happening. “Um… sorry, what was your name again?” I ask the blonde.
“Ben,” he says, clearly pissed off that I didn’t remember. “And who’s this?” He gestures toward the brunette.
“I’m her boyfriend,” he gives him a big smile. “Thanks for keeping an eye on her but I got it from here.”
“You didn’t mention you had a boyfriend,” Ben says pointedly. 
“Well when you’re busy trying to corner her it gets a little caught in your throat,” the brunette shoots back. “You’re done, thank you, bye bye now!”
Ben rolls his eyes and finally walks away in defeat. The brunette turns to me, his hand still on my arm. Now that I’m actually looking at him, I see that he is one of the most attractive people I think I’ve ever seen in my life.
“You okay?” he asks.
“Yeah, thank you,” I nod.
“Sorry if that was weird, you just looked really uncomfortable,” he says. “I was hoping that wasn’t actually a boyfriend because that would have made things worse…”
“No, no, I don’t. Um, I really appreciate that.”
He does a quick scan of the bar to make sure Ben wasn’t looking, then puts his hand out. “I’m Matt.”
I tell him my name and we begin to make small talk. When there’s a lull in the conversation, my curiosity gets the best of me.
“You know, I recognize you from somewhere, I feel like TikTok or something…”
“Oh yeah, my brothers and I are YouTubers.”
It all clicks in my head. “Oh right! Yeah, I think one of my friends showed me a video one time. And I definitely remember thinking, that guy in the driver’s seat is hot,” I smirk at him. 
His cheeks get bright red, but he tries to play it cool. “Ohhh really? Or are you just saying that to flatter me?”
“No, no, definitely not, but if it’s working then…”
“Oh, it’s working.”
I smile. “I’ll have to check out some more of your videos so I can see more of you.”
“You could… or we could just hang out and you could see more of me in person.”
My heart nearly falls into my ass at that. I have never been great at flirting, but the conversation is just coming so easy with this guy that I can’t help myself. “Hmmm… I think I like that idea.” 
“Good,” he smiles while pulling out his phone. “Give me your number and I’ll text you later.”
Once I give it to him and he slides his phone back into his pocket, he leans against the pillar behind him and crosses his arms. “It’s crazy how I was just telling my brother how lame this event is. Not so much anymore.”
“I was just telling my roommate the exact same thing. I’m glad I stayed.”
He pushes off the pillar and stands up straight again, closer towards me. “The attendees usually aren’t this pretty.”
Now it’s my turn to blush. “Ohhhh you think I’m prettyyyy?”
He rolls his eyes. “Don’t act like you don’t already know.” He pauses for a second, then opens his mouth. “Let me buy you dinner tomorrow.” Before I get a chance to respond, his eyes get wide. “Uh oh, your boyfriend’s looking. How do we make it believable that I’m with you?”
I don’t know where all my confidence is coming from right now. Something about him is making me a completely different person. I sit in one of the bar stools so I reach his height more then wrap my arms around his neck. “Like this?” I ask innocently.
He’s clearly at a loss for words for a moment, then he regains his composure. “Yeah, no, uh… yeah, this works.” I start to play with his hair on the back of his neck to try to fluster him even more. “So,” he says, trying to play off the fact that he is staring straight at my cleavage, “where do you live? So I know where to pick you up tomorrow night?” 
“We’re by The Grove, not too far from here. I’ll text you the full address,” I tell him.
“Oh perfect. We live right by here too, how convenient. Then I can see my girlfriend whenever,” he teases.
I nod in agreement. “Is he still looking?” I ask, referring to Ben.
He shrugs. “Don’t care. If I bothered looking at him then I wouldn’t get to look at you, and we wouldn’t want that, would we?”
I tilt my head and smile. “No, we definitely wouldn’t want that.”
He leans even closer, putting both his hands on the bar behind me. “So as my girlfriend,” he says, “I would assume you have a favorite tattoo of mine, right?” He put his arm out and rolled up his sleeve. “Which one would that be?”
I try to keep my composure as I look at the tattoos covering his arm. His forearms and hands are ridiculously veiny and I’m trying to keep the disgusting – but hot – thoughts running through my head at bay. “I like this one,” I say, tracing an anchor he has near his wrist. “Orrrr… this one.” My fingers run over one on his bicep, an owl with his wing covering a skull. He’s already insanely attractive, but his tattoos are making me legitimately sick to my stomach. 
“Do you have any?” he asks.
“Yeah, I got a few.” I show him the ones on my arm. “I have one on my rib too, but you’ll have to see that one another time.” I look up at him through my eyelashes and smile sweetly.
He smirks. “Oh will I?” 
“Mhm.”
“I have one on my chest,” he says, taking my hand and placing it on the left side of his chest. 
“Am I gonna see that one too?” I ask.
“Yeah, I don’t have one there,” he says dryly. “Just wanted an excuse to have your hands on me.”
My jaw drops a little as I slide my hand up his chest slowly until it’s back on his neck. Our faces are inches apart. “Do you think it looks believable that we’re together?” he asks.
“I think so,” I shrug. “It could always look more believable, but I don’t know your thoughts on PDA, so…”
His face is moving closer. “Where are you going with that?”
“Where do you think I’m going with it?”
He responds by giving me a soft kiss on my cheek. “That’s all you get for now.”
I pout in response, then move back and place my elbows on the bar behind me. My chest is a straight shot from his face, and I can tell he’s having a hard time focusing. “So where should we get dinner?” I ask.
“Um… we can go to… um…”
“I’ve never been to um, what do they have there?” I mock.
“Shut up,” he lets out a little laugh. “Let’s go somewhere higher end so I can treat you.”
“Ohhh, you got the big YouTube bucks, huh?”
He shrugs. “Gotta stay humble. I’ll treat you on a few different dates and we can find out just how much YouTube can pay for.”
“That sounds good,” I run my hand lightly through the curls on his neck as I give him the world’s nastiest fuck me eyes. 
He steps between my legs. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“Why? I can’t look at my boyfriend like this?”
“Not with this many people around, no. Alone, though… well, we’re gonna be doing a lot more when we’re alone.”
I’m melting into a puddle in my seat. There’s no way this is happening. “I’m looking forward to it,” I reply, not breaking eye contact.
“I’ve gotta get back to my brothers,” he says in a near whisper. “I’ll text you, okay?”
I nod as he kisses my cheek one last time before he winks at me and walks away. 
---------------------------------------------
pt 2 coming soon (probably)
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Text
Of Lions and Mice
Leona Kingscholar x Reader
Reader is intended to be female
Masterlist
Leona was annoyed.
Once again, his golden goody-two-shoes older brother decided to shirk his responsibility of being a father and dump the overexcited, disgustingly bright-eyed crown prince on him for the day. And not only that, it had to be today of all days - a rare day where you were free from picking up Crowleys’ slack, where the loudmouthed, nattering extras that always followed you were otherwise preoccupied (and bribed to bugger off with a bag full of tuna), where he was certain he’ll spend the day in bed with you right next to him. 
But no. Just like with everything else in his miserable existence, his dreams were crushed and he had to spend the day playing caretaker to his nephew instead of wrapped up with you. What’s worse was that, you’d decided to carry the pint-sized load off of his back and gave your undivided attention to the cub when it should have been rightfully his. How he hated that selfless nature of yours, that sweet, caring, gentle nature that would make you look at anyone that wasn’t him with that loving gaze, that would make you brush your fingers through Cheka’s golden orange curls the same way you would Grim’s fur or the stray cats you’d find around campus or any other being instead of his mane. 
He hated just how loving you were, how your eyes could see the beauty in everything.
How, now that it’s late at night, and he’s closed his eyes and pretended to sleep in his attempt to actually get some shut eye and so that the little hairball would quit bothering him but Cheka just continues yapping.
Even in the darkness under his eyelids, he could feel you cast a worried look his way from the spot where his bed sags a little.
“Hey Cheka,” your sweet, dulcet voice (which is currently being used to please his nephew and not sooth him to sleep with the sweet nothings it usually does) pipes up, “how about I tell you a bedtime story from my world?”
“A bedtime story?!” Wow, even with his eyes closed he could see the stars coming out of his nephew's eyes, “yes please!”
Once the little cub has settled into bed, he asks you, “do you know any stories from your world with lions in them?
“Any ones with lions? Hmm, well, I suppose I could tell you about Narnia but I think you might be a bit too young for that and - wait,” you punctuated your words with a snap of your fingers, “I know a short one. There was this man called Aesop who wrote these short stories called fables.”
“What’s a fable?” Cheka asked, his words covered in that innocently curious lilt that all six year olds seemed to have during every occasion Leona wished they wouldn’t - and that was all of them.
You, however, seemed to have much more patience than him, “A story with a moral in them. Like, always be honest, or share, or work together, that sort of thing. I had a book of them when I was younger and I really enjoyed reading them.”
Figures. Of course, the shining beacon of sickeningly polite goodness grew up with such stories. He would’ve teased you for that but he had a child who he’s still trying to convince he was asleep.
“That sounds so cool, Aunty Y/N! Will you tell me more?”
“Of course, I will,” he can hear your smile, “but I’ll tell you them later, okay. Now, it’s time for you to rest.” 
“Okay, Aunty Y/N.”
“Alright so,” you clear your throat, “there was once a lion that lay asleep in his den. A shy little mouse came upon him and in her fright she ran away, only whilst doing so she accidentally ran over his head, waking him up.”
“Oh no,” Cheka gasped, “that lion is going to be so angry if he wakes up.”
Oh, so the little hairball does have a brain after all. 
“You’re right. Furious that he had been woken up, the big lion slammed a paw down on the tiny mouse and grabbed her by the tail. Holding her up, he growled at her,” here you made your voice noticeably deeper, trying to imitate a gruff growl, ““How dare you wake me up! I am the king of beasts and anyone who interrupts my slumber deserves to die! I shall kill you and eat you!””
It took everything within Leona to not burst into laughter at your adorable imitation of a ‘big scary lion’. It’s a voice you’ve used before whenever you tease him, playfully repeating the words his old self would have said to you, and it’s one that he’s rather fond of. 
He loves and respects you, Herbivore, and he’s the first to attest to your formidability and capability - even though you have the annoying tendency to not only blur the line between bravery and reckless stupidity but also play skipping rope with it - but intimidating you are not. 
“This scared the terrified mouse even more. Shaking with fear, she begged for him to let her go,” you make your voice higher at this part, squeaking in a way that oddly suited you, in Leona’s not so humble opinion, ““please, your majesty, I beg of you, please don’t eat me. It was only a mistake and if you let me go I’ll be sure to repay you. If you spare my life one day, I might even save yours.””
“The lion looked at the tiny creature and laughed, amused at how such a small mouse could ever be of use to an animal as powerful as him, “You? Save me? How absurd. You’ve made me laugh and put me in a good mood so I shall be generous and let you go.”
“Thank you, your majesty, thank you,” the mouse squeaked as she was put back on the ground, before scurrying away as fast as fast as her little legs could carry her.”
“Yay, so the mouse is free.” Cheka giggled.
“He is,” you said, “but there’s still more left. A few days later, the lion was prowling around when out of nowhere he was caught in a hunter’s net. Try as he might, he couldn’t get out of it. He tossed and turned, roaring angrily as he struggled to escape.”
“Wait, so now the lion’s in trouble. How’s he going to get out?” Cheka asked in worry. 
“You’ll see. Hearing his cries, the mouse followed the sound, recognising it from the lion he met earlier.
“I have to help him,” she squeaked as she scampered towards him.”
Upon seeing the lion in the net, she said, “hold still your majesty, I’ll get you out!”
And she quickly started to nibble on the ropes with her sharp little teeth, biting until all they broke apart. It wasn’t long until the lion was free.”
“So the mouse saved him. Was it because the lion helped him earlier?”
“It certainly was Cheka. “Thank you, little mouse,” the lion said, “I laughed at you and didn’t think you could ever help me but you saved my life.”
“It was my turn to help you.” The mouse replied, ”never forget that even a creature as small as a mouse can help a lion.”
And that’s the end,” you say.
“Thank you, Auntie Y/N, I really enjoyed that. Do you think the lion and mouse became friends after that?”
“You are very welcome, Cheka. I think they did. They did help each other, after all. Now I think it’s time to go to sleep.”
And once you were sure that the crown prince was asleep, you made your way next to your boyfriend, running your fingers through chestnut locks, “did you enjoy that little story, Leona.”
He opens his eyes to see your endeared smile. Rolling over so that he could wrap his arms around your waist he muses, “it seems awfully familiar don’t you think? A scared little herbivore wakes up a sleeping lion and ends up saving him later.”
“I’ll have you know, Your Highness, that I was never scared of you. Even when you were a rude old brute who threatened to knock out one of my teeth. And I’m certainly not little.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say.” 
He pulls, letting you flop down on his bed beside him so that he can spoon you.
“Sweet dreams, little mouse,” he kissed your forehead, “I hope you know that I don’t ever intend on letting you go. Not after you helped in ways you could never even imagine.”
And so the lion fell asleep, holding the prey who rescued him from the confinement of his past safely in his arms.
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