#violet dawn wc

[artaintfartwarriors]

Have you done Violet Dawn yet? If not please ignore this

I have now!

[alien-s0da]

My fav ship? So far, my favorite ship that I made myself because forget Thunder and Clear Sky is Star Flower x Violet Dawn.

I had so much fun with these designs !!

[armadillo-arts]

i forgot to post the U poll on instagram and i am so so tired that it threw me off for a few days, but we are almost done and i am NOT quitting now and don’t feel like waiting another day. so the U poll can just be tumblrs lmao

shyfrost won the Unreleased characters poll for U with 48 votes! rip rufus with 12 💔

as always, please vote even if unfamiliar with the series/characters so i can get as many votes as possible! choose the name/context/potential design that intrigues you the most

[shallowbreeze]

Violet Dawn

Violet Dawn is a dark gray she-cat with amber eyes. She has black fur edging her paws and ears.

[clanslist]

[rarepair-competition]

Round 1, Matchup 24

[exocynraku]

oh um can i get sapphic and nb violet dawn and fern leaf , pretty please ?? :3c

[marmosetpaw]

[justapigeonn]

DOTC REWRITE/AU

Ok so I know I said I'd never do an actual rewrite for DOTC but after some thinking I honestly couldn't help myself so here;s a megadump of some of the changes I'd make:

Turtle Tail and Bumble would escape the twoleg house together after she becomes pregnant and Tom shows his ugly side

2. Gray Wing actually realises he was the reason Turtle Tail left in the first place and apologises for being a twat

3. With Turtle tail's help, Bumble convinces the moor cats to let her stay, but she soon discovers that she's not cut out for their way of life so Turtle Tail takes her to River Ripple to live with him and his colony and she becomes a seasoned river dwelling cat. She ends up living a long, peaceful, happy life and she and Turtle tail visit each other regularly

4. Tom eventually shows up to demand Turtle Tail's kits. He ends up finding the hollow by actually scenting them out as opposed to Gray Wing doxing them out of sheer stupidity and attempts to sneak into camp and take them, but Turtle Tail intercepts him and kills him where he stands

5. This is a big one that may spark controversy but SkyClan does not exist and Clear Sky never gets to be leader. He proves time and time again even after the battle that he is not worthy of being one, let alone a FOUNDER by any stretch of the imagination. He continuously demonstrates irresponsibility, is unnecessarily controlling and cruel, even to the cats he's supposed to care about and only seems to get his shit together in the very last book, long after he should have 'learned his lesson'. He never changed and should never have been given the countless chances to redeem himself. Instead, after the battle he is stripped of his leadership role by StarClan and the other founders and the forest cats fall under Thunder's authority instead, who leaves the moor after the battle to be where he truly wants to be. Clear Sky is allowed to join his ranks but he does so with the utmost resentment and bitterness. When One Eye and Star Flower enter the scene, One Eye takes advantage of his hatred and convinces Clear Sky to spy on and betray Thunder's group with the promise of him joining his rogue group and earning a position of power by his side and Clear Sky accepts (you have full permission to interpret this as gay) while Star Flower grows close to Thunder as she does in canon, manipulating him from the side line. At some point along the line Clear Sky outs himself and Star Flower and he joins One Eye's group before having a change of heart while Star Flower has her own redemption and blah blah blah still working on it). Clear Sky realises that being a meanie head ain't it, turns against One Eye and his rogues and supports his son wholeheartedly etc. At some stage during the final battle Clear Sky is killed by one of One Eye's close supporters as a final sacrifice/attempt to redeem himself, though I'm not keen on giving him a particularly heroic death considering how angry Tom's canon death made me so I figured it would be funny of the other settlers were like 'ohh noooo, anyways' with a couple of solemn words as opposed to a whole grievingfest. As for my reasoning for omitting SkyClan completely, half of it is due to the fact that it's basically just defacto ThunderClan except for the fact that they can jump high and hunt in trees, which are easily things ThunderClan can adopt. Firestar's quest and the latter half of AVOS can just not happen which I'm sure not many people will complain about

6. Gray Wing is not a Clear Sky apologist loser and actually resents him for all the grief he has caused

7. Rather than his own big bad, Slash is rather one of One Eye's devoted followers. One ruthless manipulative rogue leader would have been quite enough to serve as the arc's main antagonist for the latter half of it's duration, with better writing they could've spread it out and and left a true impact. Considering have him kill Clear Sky in the heat of the final battle maybe as opposed to giving his slaughter to One Eye

8. Fern and and a few of the other various mistreated rogues still exist, but this time under One Eye's command. She still ends up working with Gray Wing and joining the moor cats along with some of her friends after betraying One Eye

9. Star Flower never becomes Clear Sky's third mate or is reduced to a stock sweet baby mama where her getting kidnapped, abused then giving birth in an inconvenient place is introduced as a form of conflict, but rather reconciles with Thunder and builds on the previous connection they had already established (which would be stronger in my au). He eventually forgives her and they bond over the fact that they have manic shitty bloodthirsty fathers plotting against them and team up to be their foil, eventually becoming mates at the end of the arc.

10. Slate and Violet Dawn do not exist. This isn't because I don't like them as characters but imo never existing in the first place is a far better fate than being last minute underdeveloped love interests for the male protagonists with no other function in the story whatsoever

11. Quiet Rain is not guilted into forgiving Clear Sky for the atrocities he committed on her deathbed by Shaded Moss (who had no business doing so considering the fact that he wasn't a victim of his and she was particularly angry at the fact that he has killed Rainswept Flower who seemingly didn't get a say in the matter)

This was super lengthy and I ended up adding way more than I expected but I do hope to expand on them in the future. There are other things I have issues with such as the way Gray Wing treats Jagged Peak in numerous scenes as well as the overall ableism of the arc but this is all for now :3

[cheesecakedrawz]

[changedfates]

[loulou3010]

Thunder x violetdawn let's gooooooooo ( i dont know why i just love this ship)

[chipsterswc]

The Erins will look at a tomcat that exists in DotC and say “is ANYONE going to give this man a dead wife” 

[warrior-cats-rewritten]

Tiger Tail, Pale Sky, Rumble and Lightning...

Just WHAT are we gonna do with you 4, eh?

Lightning has been fused with Lightning Stripe, she is now pure white aside from a ginger stripe down her back.

Sleek Fur is now the son of Violet Dawn and Rain, and is a mini-me of Violet Dawn. His sibling is Shell Claw, who is now a dark brown tolly, with blue eyes like Rain. They miss their dad.

The other sibling, Feather Ear, is now the only child of Falling Feather and her wife, Aspen Leaf. She is a little tortie!

Lightning Stripe's brother is Rumble Fur. He looks a lot like Acorn Fur, although he has long, tangled fur.

So, Acorn Fur and Thunderstar have Lightning Stripe and Rumble Fur. Falling Feather and Aspen Leaf have Feather Ear. Violet Dawn is now the single mother of Sleek Fur and Shell Claw.

Tiger Tail and Pale Sky are now the children of Sun Shadow and Light Spots. They actually have 3 children! The other child is Shadow Fur, who is the spitting image of his father Sun Shadow aside from being basically blind (he can see light and shadows but that's about it, he isn't 100 percent blind but he ain't exactly getting a drivers license). He becomes Pebble Heart's apprentice because he is also Kitty Autism with a special interest in plants. All 3 are extremely popular in Shadowclan!

Light Spots is a pale brown tabby molly with white patches and green eyes, she has epilepsy and thrives in Shadowclan's nocturnal patrols that Bumble accidentally starts. Tiger Tail is a light brown tom with black stripes on his tail, and green eyes; Pale Sky is now a silver tabby molly with amber eyes, and Shadow Fur is pure black with yellow eyes just like dad.

[therogueflame]

By Fire, By Right

hi lovebugs,

I am SO sorry that this took so long, i just didnt have the motivation to do it. i did not proofread before posting. is it obvious i wrote this in an hour? oopsies. This one is shorter than both the Small Council and Steel and Silk, but thats bc it has literally 0 plot. none. zilch. enjoy

✨ My Masterlist ✨

🖊️My AO3 🖊️

📝 My WIP List 📝

❄️ My ASOIAF/GOT/HOTD Discord Server 🔥

Summary: On the night of your wedding, beneath the glow of candlelight and the weight of ancient vows, Aegon takes what has always been his.

WC: 3.8k

Warnings: 18+, Sex (p in v), oral (fem!receiving), no use of y/n, but implied fem!reader

King Aegon II x Wife!Queen!Reader

MDNI!!!!

The bedchamber was bathed in the soft glow of candlelight, golden flickers casting shadows over rich silks and cold stone. The air carried the faint scent of dragonfire and myrrh, clinging to your skin, a lingering trace of the vows spoken before gods and men. The chamber had been prepared with great care, the bed draped in deep crimson, an unspoken expectation woven into the hush that settled between you.

The feast had stretched long into the night, filled with wine, music, and endless toasts to your health and happiness. Lords had lifted their cups in grand displays, their words full of empty flattery, their voices loud with drunken revelry. The finest dishes in the realm had been set before you, the grandest musicians had played their songs, but none of it had mattered.

Not to him.

Aegon had barely touched his cup, ignoring the endless flow of wine that had been pressed into his hands throughout the night. His focus had remained on you, his gaze steady, his expression unreadable but intent. There had been no outward impatience, no sign of discontent, yet the way he had watched you told you everything. He had been waiting for this moment more than he cared to admit.

Now, at last, you were alone.

The chamber doors had closed behind you, shutting out the sounds of the lingering celebration, leaving only the crackle of the hearthfire and the quiet rhythm of your own breath.

Aegon sat at the edge of the marriage bed, his tunic loose at the collar, exposing a sliver of his chest. His crown lay discarded on a nearby table, its weight abandoned for the night. His violet eyes roamed over you, the same way they always had, but tonight, something had changed.

You had been his before this night. In whispers exchanged beneath the cover of darkness. In hands that had learned the shape of you in secret. In nights where restraint had faltered and desire had outweighed duty. In the way he reached for you when no one was looking, in the way he had always pulled you closer rather than let you go.

Yet tonight was different.

There was no need for secrecy, no need to slip away before the dawn. There were no barriers left between you, no pretense, no stolen moment that had to end before it had truly begun. Tonight, he did not have to claim you in haste. Tonight, you were his, and he was yours, and there was nowhere left to run.

"You are staring," you said, stepping closer, your fingers reaching for the ties at his sleeves.

Aegon did not blink, did not look away. The candlelight cast shadows across his sharp features, making the violet of his eyes seem darker, more intense. His lips curved, slow and knowing, but he did not move. He let you come to him, let you reach for him, let you think you had the upper hand.

Before you could undo the laces at his wrist, he caught your hands. His grip was firm but unhurried, his touch more possessive than forceful. His thumb brushed lazily over your pulse, his touch warm and deliberate as he studied you, taking his time. He looked at you as if he had all the time in the world.

A smirk tugged at his lips, the same self-assured expression he always wore when he knew he had already won. "Can you blame me?" His voice was low, rough with amusement, but beneath it lay something else, something heavier.

His fingers curled around your wrists, holding them in place as his gaze roamed over you. He did not speak immediately, letting the silence stretch just long enough to make you feel the weight of his attention. Then, finally, he murmured, "I have had you before, but tonight, you are mine in every way."

Heat curled in your stomach, pooling low as the words settled between you. You had always known him to be like this—arrogant, indulgent, utterly shameless in his claims over you—but there was something else in the way he looked at you now. There was no teasing lilt, no boyish grin. He was not just claiming you because he could. He was claiming you because, tonight, there was no need to steal anything. Tonight, nothing could take you from him.

"You have always been mine," you reminded him, tilting your chin up slightly. Your voice was steady, but you could hear the breathlessness in it, feel the way your heart pounded against your ribs.

His smirk widened, a spark of challenge flickering in his eyes. "Then let me remind you."

He pulled you onto his lap with practiced ease, his hands finding your waist and settling there as if they had always belonged. His grip was firm, his thumbs pressing into the fabric of your wedding gown as though he wished to tear through it, but he did not rush.

He exhaled slowly, the warmth of his breath brushing against your throat. He did not kiss you. Not yet. Instead, he lingered there, his lips grazing your skin, savoring the moment before he took what he already knew was his.

"This should feel no different," he murmured, his voice quieter now. His hands tightened at your waist, his hold possessive. "And yet."

You let out a slow breath, fingers threading through his golden hair, savoring the softness of it, the familiar heat of him.

"And yet," you echoed, your voice barely above a whisper.

The weight of the night settled between you, thick with something deeper than desire. This was Not a secret meeting behind closed doors. Not a rushed moment stolen between responsibilities. No hushed whispers in darkened corridors, no hurried touches before duty called you away. There was no shame, no fear of discovery, nothing left to keep you apart.

Only certainty.

Aegon cupped your cheek, his fingers warm against your skin as he tilted your face to his. His touch was not demanding but deliberate, his gaze searching yours in the dim candlelight. The teasing edge he so often carried had melted into something softer, something deeper.

"Let me take my time with you," he murmured, his voice quieter now, heavy with something unspoken. "Tonight, I have no reason to rush."

The words sent a slow warmth through you, one that had nothing to do with desire and everything to do with him. There was a promise in them, an unspoken vow that had nothing to do with duty or expectation. This was not a night for reckless passion or frantic need. It was a night for something greater.

You smiled, pressing your forehead to his, your touch soft and knowing. "Then take all the time you need."

Aegon let out a slow breath, one that felt almost like relief, before his lips found yours.

The kiss was slow and deep, nothing like the frenzied nights before. It was not a desperate claim or a demand but a confirmation of what had always been. He was yours, and you were his.

His hands skimmed over your back, moving with deliberate ease, gliding down the curve of your spine until his fingers found the delicate lacing that held your gown in place. He did not fumble, did not rush. Each tug and pull of the ties was patient, a testament to his practiced skill. As the fabric slackened and slipped away from your shoulders, he bent forward, pressing his lips to the newly revealed skin, his warm breath brushing against you like a whispered secret.

"I have dreamed of this moment," he murmured, his voice a low, velvety rasp against your skin. "Of undressing you slowly, savoring every inch of you."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, not from nerves but from the weight of them. You knew he spoke the truth. In all the times he had touched you before, there had always been a lingering urgency, a stolen moment that could not last long enough. But now there was no need for restraint, no need to keep his hands from wandering or his mouth from lingering.

Slowly, the layers of your wedding gown pooled around you, the rich fabric forgotten as it slid from your body. You were left in nothing but your shift, the delicate linen barely concealing the swell of your breasts, the curve of your hips. Aegon’s hands traced every inch of bare skin, his fingers gliding along the newly exposed flesh as if learning you all over again.

He was in no rush to claim you, no rush to take what had already been his in every way but this one. Instead, he took his time, savoring each touch, each brush of his lips, each soft sound that escaped you as he worshipped every inch of you.

He had called you his queen before the realm, but here, beneath the glow of candlelight, he made you feel like one.

"You are so beautiful," he whispered against your neck, his lips trailing down to your collarbone.

Your fingers tangled in his hair as he continued to explore your body with eager hands. The heat between you grew with each passing second, a slow burn that promised to consume you both. With a low growl, Aegon stood, lifting you with him. He carried you over to the bed and gently placed you down on the soft furs. His eyes drank in every inch of your exposed skin before he joined you on the bed.

He hovered over you, his weight resting on his forearms as he gazed down at you with an intensity that made your breath catch in your throat.

Aegon's lips claimed yours once more in a kiss filled with passion and longing. His hands roamed over your body with an urgency that drove any coherent thoughts from your mind. Your own hands were busy too – eagerly exploring every inch of his hard, muscular frame.

His hands continued their deliberate exploration, carefully peeling away the layers of your gown with a tenderness that belied his strength. Each new patch of skin, exposed to the cool air, was immediately claimed by his lips, his tongue, or the gentle scrape of his teeth, leaving a trail of tingling warmth in their wake. You arched into his touch, your breath hitching as he lingered on particularly sensitive spots, drawing out soft gasps of pleasure.

“You're still wearing too much,” you murmured, your fingers tugging insistently at the hem of his tunic.

He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that vibrated against your skin. “Patience, my love. We have all night.”

Nevertheless, he released you momentarily, just long enough to pull the garment over his head, revealing the hard planes of his body. The flickering candlelight danced across his skin, highlighting every taut muscle and old scar. Your hands roamed eagerly over his chest, tracing the ridges of past battles and the firm definition of his abdomen, each touch reaffirming the magnetic pull between you.

Aegon's eyes darkened with lust as you explored his body. He captured your lips again, the kiss deeper and more urgent now. His hands slid down to your hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he pulled you closer. You could feel the heat of his arousal pressing against you through the remaining layers of fabric.

"I want to see all of you," he breathed against your mouth. With a fluid motion, he lifted you and laid you back on the bed. His gaze raked over you hungrily as he slowly removed the last of your gown, leaving you bare before him.

You flushed under his intense scrutiny, but there was no shame in it. This was your husband, your king, the man who had chosen you above all others. You reached for him, drawing him down to you.

Aegon's body covered yours, his weight a delicious pressure as he settled between your thighs. His lips found yours again, the kiss deep and consuming. You ran your hands down his back, feeling the play of muscles beneath his skin as he moved against you.

"You are exquisite," he murmured, trailing kisses along your jaw and down your neck. His hand cupped your breast, thumb brushing over the sensitive peak. You arched into his touch, a soft moan escaping your lips.

Aegon's lips moved with deliberate precision, tracing the path of his hand and leaving a trail of warmth that seemed to ignite your skin. He devoted himself to your breasts, switching between tender, feather-like touches and more demanding caresses that pulled involuntary gasps of his name from your lips.

Your fingers wove into the soft strands of his hair as he descended lower, planting a series of open-mouthed kisses across your abdomen. Each press of his lips made your breath catch in your throat as Aegon's mouth journeyed further down, his tongue crafting intricate patterns on your flushed skin. He lingered at your hip, delivering a playful nip that sent a shiver through you before he soothed the spot with a gentle kiss. His violet eyes, deepened with an intense longing, locked onto yours as he nestled himself between your thighs, ready to explore further.

"I want to taste you," he murmured, his breath hot against your most sensitive flesh. "To savor every part of you."

You nodded, your voice lost in the whirlwind of anticipation as Aegon lowered his mouth to your most intimate place. The first tentative swipe of his tongue sent a jolt of electricity through your body, causing your back to arch off the bed as if pulled by invisible strings, a breathless gasp escaping your lips. His strong hands, firm and steady, clamped onto your hips, anchoring you in place as he embarked on a thorough exploration with lips and tongue, each movement deliberate and expertly executed.

Aegon's dedication was unwavering, his technique a seamless dance between broad, sweeping strokes and precise, focused attention on the sensitive bundle of nerves that sent fireworks exploding behind your closed eyelids. Your fingers instinctively dove into the cascade of his silver-gold hair, pulling him closer, desperate for more as exquisite pleasure coiled tightly within you. Sensing your urgency, Aegon responded with eagerness, his tongue delving deeper, tasting and teasing with an artistry that spoke of familiarity and skill. He knew every curve and contour of your body, understood exactly how to touch you to ignite a fervent, all-consuming desire.

"Aegon," you gasped, your hips rolling against his mouth. "Please..."

He hummed a low, resonant tune against your collarbone, the vibration sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body, like ripples on a pond's surface. His left hand remained firmly on your hip, fingers pressing into your soft flesh, while his right hand began a slow, tantalizing journey up your trembling thigh. You felt each of his calloused fingertips as they inched higher, teasing at your entrance, circling slowly before pressing inside with deliberate care. The dual sensation of his tongue, warm and wet, drawing circles on your clit, and his fingers curling inside you, stroking your inner walls, had you careening towards the edge of ecstasy.

Aegon's ministrations grew more intense, his fingers working in tandem with his tongue, a harmonious dance designed to bring you closer and closer to the peak. His tongue lapped against you, alternating between swift flicks and long, languid strokes, while his fingers crooked inside you, beckoning forth your orgasm. Your breath came in ragged gasps, your chest heaving as your body trembled with need, muscles tensing in anticipation. When he curled his fingers just so, hitting that perfect spot inside you, a hidden treasure trove of sensation, the tension finally snapped.

Pleasure crashed over you in waves, a relentless tide that left you crying out his name, your back arching sharply off the bed, sheets fisting in your hands. Aegon didn't relent, drawing out your climax with gentle licks and caresses, his fingers still moving languidly inside you, until you were quivering and oversensitive, your body pulsing with aftershocks. Only then did he press a final, tender kiss to your inner thigh, his stubble grazing your sensitive skin, before moving back up your body. His lips found yours in a searing kiss, his tongue sweeping into your mouth, and you could taste your own saltiness on his tongue, a primal, intimate exchange.

Aegon's body pressed against yours, his arousal evident as he settled between your thighs. His violet eyes were dark with desire as he gazed down at you, a mix of tenderness and hunger in his expression. You reached up to cup his face, drawing him down for another kiss.

"I need you," you whispered against his lips, your body still thrumming with aftershocks of pleasure.

Aegon's hand glided down the curve of your waist, his fingers tracing the contours of your body before firmly gripping your thigh. He gently lifted your leg, draping it over his hip, aligning himself at your entrance with careful precision. The warmth radiating from him was palpable, hinting at the imminent intimacy you both craved.

With a slow, deliberate movement, Aegon leaned forward, his chest pressing against yours as he enveloped you in a close embrace. Both of you gasped, a shared intake of breath as the familiar, electrifying sensation of him filling you completely surged through your senses. He paused momentarily, his forehead resting tenderly against yours, your mingled breaths creating a warm, shared space. In response, you rolled your hips with a silent plea, urging him to continue. Aegon responded, establishing a languid pace that had your back arching beneath him, your body instinctively synchronizing with the deep, measured rhythm he set. Each deliberate stroke sent waves of pleasure rippling through you, prompting you to wrap your legs around his waist, drawing him closer, urging him deeper into the connection you both shared.

Aegon's rhythm was unhurried and intentional, each movement deliberate as he maintained an unwavering gaze, eyes locked with yours. He moved with a languid grace, each thrust carefully measured to extract the utmost pleasure for both of you. The tension simmered within your core, a coil winding tighter with every precise roll of his hips. When he angled just right, hitting a particularly sensitive spot, a gasp escaped your lips, and your fingers instinctively dug into his shoulders, leaving small crescent-shaped impressions on his skin.

As the fervor of the moment began to consume him, Aegon's pace shifted from steady to frantic. His control wavered, and he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath a warm, ragged pant against your skin. His movements became more fervent, driven by a primal urgency. You wrapped your arms around him, holding on with desperation, as the overwhelming cascade of sensations threatened to drown you both.

With Aegon's thrusts becoming faster and more intense, your body quivered on the brink of another climax, every nerve electrified. The room reverberated with the melody of your shared passion—sharp, ragged gasps mingling with deep, resonant moans, accompanied by the steady, rhythmic creak of the wooden bed frame beneath you, which groaned in protest with each movement. Your fingers ventured down Aegon's spine, feeling the taut muscles ripple and contract beneath your touch, his skin glistening with a sheen of perspiration that caught the dim candlelight flickering in the chamber.

"Look at me," Aegon commanded, his voice roughened with a primal desire, cutting through the dimly lit atmosphere. You complied, lifting your gaze to meet his, where the intensity of his violet eyes seemed to pierce through you with an almost palpable force. The usual color of his irises was nearly eclipsed by the inky blackness of his pupils, dilated wide with lust, consuming the vibrant hue in a sea of darkness.

As you locked eyes with him, his gaze seemed to pull you into an ocean of intensity, and the room around you blurred into insignificance. Waves of pleasure coursed through your body, each one building upon the last. His hips moved with a relentless rhythm, each thrust more determined than the one before, expertly hitting that perfect spot inside you. You felt yourself hovering on the brink, every nerve tingling with anticipation, so close to that ultimate release.

"Come for me," Aegon growled, his voice a deep, commanding whisper that seemed to vibrate through your very bones. "Let me feel you." His words were a potent mix of demand and encouragement, resonating deep within you and urging you to surrender.

The combination of his words and a particularly deep, precise thrust sent you tumbling over the edge. You cried out his name, your voice echoing with the ecstasy that surged through you, your body tightening around him in response. Aegon's groan was guttural, his rhythm stuttering as your climax triggered his own. With a final, forceful thrust, he drove himself deep within you, releasing as he reached his peak, his body shuddering with the intensity of it all.

For several moments, you both lay entwined, bodies trembling and hearts racing as you came down from the heights of passion. Aegon's weight pressed you into the mattress, a comforting anchor as the room slowly came back into focus. His breath was warm against your neck, each exhale sending a small shiver through you.

Gradually, Aegon lifted his head, his violet eyes meeting yours once more. The intensity from before had softened, replaced by a tender warmth that made your heart swell. He brushed a stray lock of hair from your forehead, his touch gentle, as if savoring the moment.

"My queen," he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. "My wife."

You smiled up at him, reaching to cup his cheek, your thumb tracing the faint flush that still lingered on his skin. "My king," you replied softly. "My husband."

Aegon exhaled a quiet breath, leaning into your touch. For once, he did not speak, did not smirk or tease. He simply held you, his arms tightening around you as if anchoring himself in your warmth. The weight of the night settled between you, not in duty or expectation, but in something real, something that had always been there, waiting for this moment to be fully realized.

The candles burned low, their golden glow flickering against the chamber walls, casting soft shadows that swayed with the dying light. The world beyond this room, with all its expectations and burdens, had faded into nothing. The court did not matter, nor did the crown or the weight of what tomorrow would bring.

Here, in the quiet of your wedding night, there was only the warmth of his touch, the steady rhythm of his breath, and the unshakable truth that you belonged to each other completely.

Aegon held you close, his arms wrapped around you as if nothing could pull you from him. And for tonight, nothing would.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Irresistible {7} || CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!reader, Max Verstappen x fem!reader Summary: After everything, you get a happy healthy ending. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, angst, smut, fluff. WC: 4.5k F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven

Your Playlist:

Big Girls Don’t Cry - Fergie

Pretend - Secondhand Serenade

No Right To Love You - Rhys Lewis

You Broke Me First - Tate McRae

Lose You To Love Me - Selena Gomez

The Night We Met - Lord Huron

Wicked Game - Violet Orlandi 

Charles’ Playlist:

Your Call - Secondhand Serenade

The Loneliest - Mäneskin

Roses And Butterflies - Making April

Amnesia - 5sos

Miserable At Best - Mayday Parade

Love Is Gone - Slander

The Man Who Can’t Be Moved - The Script

Charles was spiralling with every mile that grew between where he was and where you were. The only updates he had from you were in the form of photos on Instagram and his concentration went into waiting for your next post instead of the preparation for the final free practice of the day. He had sent you enough unanswered messages to know you were ignoring him and it hurt more than he dared let on.

“She’s not home yet,” he said as he caught up to Max in the paddock. It was half a question and half a statement, but he needed some sort of confirmation.

“I know.” Of course Max knew. You kept in touch with him, sending him sporadic messages when you stopped to take in the beautiful countryside on the quiet roads. It should have been a four hour drive but you were content to make it last the day so you didn’t have to think about what you had left behind. 

Max looked like he was going to say something else but he closed his lips as an arm curled around Charles’ waist. Whatever information he was going to offer was replaced with a simple, “I’ll see you later.”

Charles turned to Charlotte and his eyebrows pulled together in confusion. “I thought you left.”

“Because we had one little fight?”

“I would hardly call it little.”

“Whatever,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “Anyway, now that Y/N’s gone things will be so much easier between us. We can get back to how we used to be. We are good for each other, Charles.”

Charles briefly entertained the idea of pushing her away but then he remembered how lonely it was sleeping by himself. It was completely stupid to even think the relationship could go back to how it was but he was selfish, if he couldn’t have you then settling for her was going to be the next best thing. 

“How about we talk after practice?” His voice was full of defeat and Charlotte knew she had already won as she kissed his cheek and let him go.

“I’ll wait in your garage.”

He faked a smile and headed after Max.

The air was stale when you stepped into the apartment, not bothering to turn on the lights as you dragged yourself down the hall and into your room. Charles’ bedroom door was still half open, the bed unmade and clothes spilling out of his drawers, sending a pang of hurt to your chest before you pulled it shut. You collapsed face first on your bed and just managed to send a message to Max letting him know you arrived safely before you let your emotional exhaustion take you under. You didn't bother to text Charles, he was probably busy anyway.

Dawn came with all the same enthusiasm that you woke with. The skyline was a watery grey and even the birds failed to raise any sort of trill with their woeful calls down on the mariner. Dew clung in the air and on your cheeks as you opened the balcony door and chased away the stale air from being closed up for weeks since the last visit. 

Your memory here before the lockdown began didn’t hold a lot of details but you did remember the aroma of coffee drifting up from the cafe below the building. Unfortunately there was only the tang of salt and storm on the air as you inhaled deeply before making the call that was long overdue. 

As expected your father answered straight away, the confusion clear in his voice as he realised that his little night owl was up at dawn. “Hey kiddo, is everything okay?”

“Can we have a donut day?”

You could already hear him moving around the house and he must have covered the microphone as he said a muffled goodbye to a sleepy Pascale. “On my way.”

Donut day was created the day you got your first period. As a panicking solo dad he had rushed to the supermarket for supplies, but he left with mostly donuts and other treats. Thankfully Betty was better prepared and soon arrived with everything you needed, along with calm instructions on how to use them. After that, any day that was absolutely terrible was called a donut day. You and your father would sit on the couch and scoff down a box of donuts until the comfort food worked its magic. 

You paced the living room until the doorbell rang and practically tore it off the hinges in your haste. You really hadn’t noticed just how lacklustre months of video calls were until you threw your arms around your dad and buried your face in his shirt. Video calls couldn’t capture the smell of his aftershave or the feel of his beard when he kissed your forehead like you were still a little kid. 

“I missed you too, pumpkin.” He pulled back to look at your face and his brows pinched together. “Rough night?”

You snorted a laugh but it cracked in your chest and your head fell down. “The last time you asked me that was in Monaco too.”

“I remember. Is this about a boy?”

You nodded and took a seat on the couch while he pensively watched from where he stood. “Will you sit down? You’re making me nervous.”

He huffed and went to the kitchen instead, grabbing a plate and emptying a bag of pastries onto it. “This is the closest to donuts I could find, sorry.”

“It’s okay, it’s not about the donuts.” You picked at a pain au chocolat while he took a seat and grabbed a pain au raisin. “I…”

You didn’t know where to begin or what to say, you just knew you had to get the truth off your chest so you could try to move on. Maybe by admitting the mistake you made, it might somehow ease the guilt you were carrying.

“A boy, right?”

“Yeah,” you murmured. “The same one actually.”

His eyebrows shot up his forehead.“From when we visited?”

“The very same.” You swallowed but the pastry seemed to coat your throat and you nearly choked before you abandoned it. “It was Charles.”

“Oh,” he said with a nod before it seemed to connect and his eyes widened. “Oh…well…shit..”

“I should have said something sooner but I didn’t want to make things awkward for you and Pascale but I…I really fucked up, dad.”

You could practically see his thoughts crossing his face as he remembered how you had called him the first day, asking to stay anywhere else. A heavy sigh fell and he seemed to deflate into the couch cushions. “I thought you were with Max?”

Your eyes narrowed but you didn’t deny it. “How do you know that?”

“Charlotte posted a picture of you and him the other night.”

“That bitch is a-”

“Uh-uh, no,” he tutted. “Correct me if I am wrong but I am going to assume you and Charles have been more than just friends…” 

Your silence was damning. 

“I don’t think you have the moral high ground to go around calling her a bitch then. I raised you better than that. Does Max know about Charles?”

“Max knows everything,” you admitted quietly, still feeling the sting of the reprimand. “He’s good for me.”

“Okay, so then what’s the problem?”

“I just really thought it was a chance - with Charles. We made plans, a future, I could see it.” Now all you saw was the note on the table and how he chased after Charlotte. “It was stupid and naive and I feel so embarrassed.”

“Love makes everyone stupid at some point.” Your father sighed again before wrapping his arm around you. “So Max huh? You know he’s got a bit of a reputation. Bit of a hot head.”

You wiped away the tears that had been building and scoffed. “Don’t believe everything you see in the media. They portray Charles as this wholesome boy next door and Max as an angry man child. Both are wrong.”

You grabbed the pastry and ate it, this time able to stomach the idea of food, before grabbing another. It wasn’t as sweet as a donut but the sugar from the chocolate was starting to hit your blood and perk you up.

“I can’t live here anymore. Not Monaco,” you corrected when you saw his eyes widen. “Just here, with Charles. I need somewhere away from him.”

You didn’t know the exact reason why your mother left but you thought maybe she felt like this, maybe it was healthier to leave than to stay. 

“The house isn’t finished but the kitchen and your bathroom are done, so it’s livable. You’ll need some moving boxes. A lot by the looks,” your father said as he stood up and looked around the room to see your belongings strewn across the place. “I’ll be back soon.”

“You’re not going to give me a lecture?” you asked as he made his way to the door.

He scanned your features that reminded him so much of your mother. “You look like you’ve learned your lesson to me. Do you need one?”

You shook your head meekly and he nodded to himself. “I’ll be back with some boxes soon.”

“Hello, handsome,” you greeted Max as soon as the video connected. He had just returned to his hotel after qualifying and securing the 5th starting place on the grid. “I’ve found a new hobby, painting.”

His smile brightened at your mood that had dramatically lifted in the past 24 hours and you showed him around your new bedroom. Paint bottles lined a sheet-covered table and dirty brushes sat in a murky jar of water, but you panned across the wall to show him the artwork you had made.

“What is it?” he asked with a forehead crumpled in confusion. He tilted his head trying to see from a different angle but he still couldn’t process the splatterings - it reminded him of a Rorschach test, one he was doing badly at. 

“I didn’t say I was good,” you clarified with a laugh as you also tried to interpret the design that was no longer just on the walls. It was a good thing the carpet hadn’t been laid yet. You had tried to push the hair out of your face and smeared paint across your cheek and it had ended up everywhere by the time you were finished. “It is a mess just like me.”

“You're not a mess, schat,” Max said as he sat at the end of his bed and fell back to watch the tour of the rest of the house. “Are you okay there on your own?”

“It’s certainly quieter than the paddock, that will take a bit of getting used to, but I don’t mind it too much.” You did miss the other friends you had made at Ferrari, but felt it was best to give everyone in red a wide berth for a while. You had seen how poorly Charles qualified and knew he wasn’t at his best partly because of you. You still hadn’t been able to answer his calls or texts.

“Well, you could come back, if you want, you’ll always be welcome at Red Bull.”

“If you miss me, you can just say that,” you teased and he sat up.

He combed a hand through his damp hair and you bit your lip remembering how it felt to be the one doing that. “I do miss you,” he admitted seriously. “That’s why I’m coming back first thing Monday morning - I owe you breakfast.”

“You know there are no cafes open?”

Max smirked and the sight made your heart skip a beat. “Who said anything about a cafe?”

You wanted to know what his plans were but there was a knock at his door and Daniel’s voice reached you through the phone. Max was tempted to let Daniel continue pounding on the door but you both knew he wouldn’t leave quietly and Max groaned at that truth. “Go answer that, I’ll call you in the morning.” 

Max dragged his feet as he padded across the room. “I would rather talk to you.”

“Me too.”

“Finish the phone sex already, you pervs,” Daniel shouted through the door before Max ripped it open.

“Oh, oh, yes, Max, don’t stop,” you called out, turning Max’s ears pink as he rushed to turn the phone around and show Daniel the screen and just how fully clothed you were. “Sorry to disappoint you, Danny, no phone sex - this time.”

It was only when Daniel bent over laughing that you saw he wasn’t alone. Charles was out in the hallway with Carlos and Lando, his eyes falling to the carpet when you noticed him.

“We’re getting dinner, you wanna come?” Daniel asked, and thankfully the phone rotated back to Max who looked a little torn at the offer.

“He does,” you answered for him before he could decline just to talk with you a little while longer.

“I’ll call you in the morning, schat.”

“Okay, have fun.”

Charles found nothing to celebrate when the race ended so he made his way home before the rest of the crew even realised it. He thought his weekend couldn’t get any worse after he DNF’d. The only silver lining was that despite his better qualifying, Max had also failed to finish the race. But he still won where it really mattered when it came to you.

Charles pulled into the apartment complex and saw a new sleek black Mercedes AMG parked in one of his many reserved spaces and hope fluttered in his chest. He grabbed his suitcase and darted up the stairwell to his apartment, nearly snapping the key in his haste to unlock the door. That hope turned to ash when he found it eerily silent and every inch of the place perfectly tidy. It was unlived. 

The artwork you had purchased still hung on the walls and the shaggy rug he had made love to you on still covered the floor, but the spirit of it all was gone. The colours of the paintings were drained and the temperature controlled air was no longer comfortable. He didn’t even need to go to your room and check, he knew you were gone.

He knew you were gone the moment he saw you on the video call to Max. He had gone with his mother to her new house enough times to know what it looked like, even if it appeared that a rainbow vomited all over the walls. The truth just hadn’t really settled in until he stepped across the threshold and into the house that was once a home.

You had tidied the place as if you were cleaning a crime scene and needed to scrub away all evidence of being there except you couldn’t get it all. You still remained in the pantry cupboards where everything was labelled in your handwriting. You still remained in the linen closet where you folded the sheets and the towels into perfect rectangles. You still remained in the scented candles that sat on the centrepiece of the table.

Charles’ eyes stung as they lingered on the table where the keys to the apartment and the Mercedes sat, right next to his credit card and the picture you kept in your wallet.

Kicking the door closed, he abandoned his suitcase and rushed down the hall. His heart hammered knowing what he would find but he had to check as he pushed open your bedroom door. No, it wasn’t your bedroom anymore, it was a guest room. 

The feminine floral duvet his mother had chosen was gone, replaced with a plain white coverlet, and the windows were latched slightly open so whatever scent of yours he may have been able to save had already been cast away to the breeze. 

“Fuck!” he screamed as he punched his fist into the mattress. “Fuuuuucckk!!!”

Max must have left before Pierre had finished partying after his shock win. It wasn’t even morning really as the sun was still cresting over the hills, and it was far earlier than you were expecting him. You thought perhaps you were dreaming when you woke to a knock and opened the door to find Max on your front steps. 

“Oh my god, are you okay?” you asked as you pulled him inside and inspected the bags under his eyes. 

“I’m better now,” he said as he wrapped his arms around you and buried his face in your hair. “I told you I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” you murmured into his chest before pulling away so you could look into his eyes. “You need to sleep.”

“I’ll be fine, I have plans first.”

“Your plans can wait.” You took his hand and led him through the house to your room that overlooked the mariner. Your blankets were still warm as you nestled under the covers and patted the empty space beside you. “You’re not going to be comfortable in jeans.”

“Five minutes and you’re already trying to get me naked,” he teased as he pulled his shirt over his head before he unbuttoned his jeans.

“I never said naked,” you pointed out. The air froze in your lungs as he pushed them down his muscular thighs and you swallowed at the sight before.

“I’m not wearing boxers.”

“No, you certainly are not.” Your tongue rolled across your lips as you drank in every inch of him, the idea of sleep quickly departing your mind. Almost everything departed your mind, except want. “I think I am overdressed.”

“You make a habit of that.”

“I do, don’t I. Maybe you should come help me fix that.”

Max didn’t need to be told twice, he had been waiting for this moment since he had the memory of how your body felt against his. He pulled the covers back and knelt between your legs, his hands roaming up your body and under the baggy shirt of a band he didn’t know. The morning air was cool on your skin as you lifted your arms and he discarded the shirt over the side of the bed. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured as he traced his lips over your racing pulse. A fiery trail of goosebumps remained where his kiss had been and he made his way to your lips before stealing the very breath from your lungs.

Your own hands went roaming, feeling his muscles tense beneath your touch until you reached his proud erection. He shuddered above you and moaned into your mouth before he pulled back. “I need you,” you begged, unabashedly. “Please, Max.”

His hands reached for your panties and the lace tickled as he dragged them down your legs. Even with your begging, he didn’t immediately bury himself in you. He took his time, settling back between your legs. He gently massaged your inner thighs with his strong hands, his thumbs dancing teasingly close to your core until a strangled whine escaped you.

“Relax, schat,” he said softly. “I’ll take care of you.”

He shifted onto his stomach and dipped his head to your core. You lost the ability to think as he gripped your hips and tugged you right onto his open mouth. A wordless cry filled the room and it took a second to understand it was coming from you as you lost yourself in the pleasure Max was giving you. You knew Max had an internal drive to succeed at everything he did and this was no different. He was determined to taste you completely and drive you into oblivion with his tongue and his fingers before he thoroughly fucked you. 

Max looked wild and untamed as you came undone around his fingers and he savoured the taste of you on his tongue as he rose above you. His eyes were dark and his lips swollen, his chin was damp and his smile satisfied. 

“Hi,” he chuckled with amusement. “Feeling alright?”

“Mhmm,” you hummed, because correlating a conscious thought into words seemed impossible as your body still trembled with aftershocks.

“Would you like a break?”

You reached between your bodies and wrapped your hand around his cock, guiding him closer to your entrance. “No, I want you, Max.”

“Completely sober, right?” he confirmed as the head pressed to your wet core.

“Not quite,” you teased, his brows pinching together at the words, “I’m drunk on you.”

The relief in his eyes was palpable and you cradled his face in your palm as you wrapped your legs around his hips. Your bodies united torturously slowly and your eyes fluttered at the fullness when every delicious inch was seated inside, your lips parting with a heady sigh.

“Open your eyes, schat.”

You obeyed in an instant, watching him watch you before his eyes drifted down your bodies. His lip was pinched between his teeth and he groaned at the sight of your pussy taking him so well, something he made sure to tell you.

“Fuck,” you choked as his words made your cunt clench in response, each thrust burying him deep in your cunt until stars dotted your vision and you were tipped over the edge into another orgasm. “Fuuuckk…”

Six months later. “Babe, have you seen my shoes?” Your voice carried throughout the large penthouse apartment you had moved into with Max when the season ended. 

“Here, with your dress,” he called out from the living room. 

You followed his voice and found the luggage being neatly stacked by the door. He pointed to the two garment bags hanging from the coat rack and at the bottom of the longer one were your heels, next to his polished dress shoes.

“I packed your coat too,” Max said, kissing your temple as he passed to get the car keys.

With the COVID restrictions being lifted Pascale hadn’t wanted to wait a minute longer for the wedding, so winter nuptials in February was the go. At least they were taking place in Sicily so it would be a little warmer, but of course Max would think to pack a coat for when the temperatures dropped at night. He was always thoughtful like that.

“Did you want a coffee?” you asked as you turned on the machine and put your travel mug under it. It was only a three hour flight on Max’s private jet, but you hadn’t slept well with the knowledge you would see Charles for the first time since Christmas. 

Cordial is how you would describe that relationship. The familiarity and intimacy was gone, replaced with standoffish politeness. You were both trying to find where the line could be drawn on a platonic friendship that had the history of more and it was slow going. You didn’t want anything you said or did around him to be misconstrued. 

Max made you happy, and just as importantly, Max was healthy for you. You did sometimes wonder if he tried harder to be better because he had witnessed toxic relationships growing up. He knew how that toxicity could poison and break someone so there was a conscious effort in the way he spoke and acted to everyone around him. Even Charles. 

That was why he had offered his plane for everyone to use, including Charles and Charlotte. For better or for worse, Charles was going to be a part of your family in less than 24 hours and Max respected that. Like he said, he didn’t care about your past and your future was one with him.

“Schatje,” Max called, one hand on your waist, the other reaching past you to the overflowing mug in the coffee machine. “Everything alright?”

You came back to the present with a few blinks and turned in his arms, surprising him with a deep kiss as you fisted his shirt and pulled him closer. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” He pulled back to see your face. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you said with a shake of your head but he saw right through it. “Everything you’ve done for me…a simple ‘I love you’ just doesn’t seem enough. I can never say it enough.”

Max’s hands cradled your jaw and he dipped his head to indulge in a slow but thorough kiss that had your stomach clenching with a fresh wave of desire. When he pulled back this time he smiled as he found the clear want and need for him written on your face. “It’s enough for me.”

He turned the machine off and poured the ruined coffee down the sink. “I’ll get you a proper coffee on the way to the airport. We should get going, can’t have the best woman be late for the rehearsal.”

“I think dad settled on the term groomsmaid,” you corrected with a laugh. You had nearly cried when he asked you to be his best man, before accepting the honour. It was fitting considering the bridesmaids were Pascale’s sons. “It’s not too late if you want to be a flower girl?”

He grinned and his eyes flicked to the door where the dress you had paraded for him last night hung. “I’m quite happy to sit back and watch.”

“If I recall, you didn’t sit still for long. I hope you have more self restraint for the ceremony.”

 “For the ceremony, yes. But as soon as we hit the hotel room you’re mine and that dress will be on the floor, I promise you.”

You bit your lip at the promise, knowing he would keep it just like every other one he had made. 

“We should probably go before I do something that makes us very late,” Max groaned, stepping away from your tempting body. 

“Ugh, fine.”

The ceremony was more than just a wedding and it represented the joining of the Leclerc’s and the Y/LN’s, something that had surprised you and also made you grateful for having waterproof mascara. You didn’t dare look at Charles when the celebrant spoke about the union of the two families, but Arthur grinned and Enzo winked, your father narrowed his eyes and you laughed.

The celebrant, thankfully, didn’t understand.

The cashmere coat Max had packed hung over the bag of your chair as night fell and you danced with him under the open stars. The only light came from the fairy lights strung around the stone pillars that had survived centuries on the island. His arms kept you warm as you swayed to the music and you spoke quietly to each other in a world of your own.

“Hey, can I, uh, can I cut in?” Charles asked hesitantly.

You took a deep breath as you debated the question, your eyes glancing around and quickly finding Charlotte at a table with Arthur and his girlfriend. You looked at Max to see if it was okay. He just smiled and kissed your cheek, whispering, “I’ll get us a drink.”

Charles waited until Max had made it off the dance floor before offering his hand, the other coming to rest on your waist. The first step was tentative, like he wasn’t sure you were actually going to follow his lead. “You look happy,” he said after a few more steps.

“I am.”

He nodded to himself, looking at Charlotte. “Good. That’s good.”

He looked miserable. “I hope you find real happiness one day.” You were being honest.

“I had it.” And he was being honest too. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I ever really apologised, not properly.”

“It’s fine, if it wasn’t for you I wouldn’t have met Max.”

“It was meant to be us, though, right?” His eyes were begging you to agree with him but you had spent sleepless nights poring over the very same question.

“I think our paths crossed to make sure our parents met,” you admitted, smiling at the newlyweds as they danced too. You had never seen your dad happier.

“You really believe that?”

The song came to an end and you found Max returning from the bar with two drinks in his hand. “I have to,” you said as you slipped out of Charles’ arms. You swallowed the lump in your throat and took a step away from him.

“Why?” He took a step closer, only stopping when you took another step back and held up your hand. “Why?”

You took a calming breath and steadied your voice. “Because the alternative would only break my heart again.”