#which makes Vy very happy

[void-viper]

For a fantasy-- you like to fulfill so many of mine already but just... A day for us. A day for us, for nothing outside the walls of our bedroom. What we do? I don't want EITHER of us to leave that bedroom with anything less than several dozen hickeys each, and maybe with some marks around wrists and some extra fun ones along the jawline, I want to see your fingers on me for days. Let us ruin each other, my heart. I want us to ruin each other, and for you to make me *scream*. - 🫐💚💕

It's a date then, sweetheart 🥰

[princessbellecerise]

Prove It To You

──── ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧ ────

summary | You and your betrothed, Jacaerys Velaryon, are a love match. A feat that has upset many of the people vying for your hand, including Jason Lannister. When he makes a snide comment about Jacaerys not knowing how to please you properly, it’s up to the future king to prove him wrong

warnings | smut, slight insecure!jace, fingering, creampie, betrothed!jace, loss of virginity (m. and f.)

this fic is eighteen plus. minors please do not enter

divider by @princessbellecerise

In your day and age, finding a love match was extremely rare.

In fact, it was often considered a miracle just to find a couple that could tolerate each other, let alone love one another and look forward to marriage, like you and Jacaerys did.

You supposed that was why your match was often celebrated, your betrothed’s own grandsire, the king of all people, calling for an elaborate feast just to congratulate the two of you.

From all over, Lords and Ladies from the great houses travelled to King’s Landing to bestow their best wishes upon you and Jace. Some genuinely happy for the two of you, some surprised, and some even…bitter that it wasn’t them.

Despite all your protests, you and Jacaerys had been the center of attention all night which was hard for two people as reserved as you were. You supposed you were at least grateful to have your lover by you side, holding his hand under the table so that you were not alone in your discomfort.

Every time some drunk Lord gave a toast or sloppily congratulated you, all eyes would be on the two of you. And every time, you wanted to bury your head in Jace’s shoulder to shy away from the attention.

It was so embarrassing to have people constantly looking at you, whispering their doubts and their gossip. No doubt people were pitying all of the unlucky gentleman you had declined just to be with Jace. Of course, no one would dare speak ill of the future king, but the curiosity as to why you picked him out of all your suitors still lingered.

After all, you had every man from Dorne to Casterly Rock asking for your hand, and yet you chose the sweet, quiet prince who many even hesitated to call him that.

Much to your dismay, the rumors of Jace and his parentage were still active even all these years later. Even when the king himself had named him as an heir, people still wondered. And for many people, especially the men that you had rejected, it made them feel as if your match was a bit…umbecoming.

After all, it was one thing to lose the most beautiful maiden in all of the land to a prince, but to an illegitimate one? Some people that believed the rumors just couldn’t handle that type of rejection.

Some people like Jason Lannister.

The man was sat a couple of seats down from you, but even with how loud it was, his voice still managed to stick out from the crowd. He was as loud as the roar of his family’s sigil, and it was hard to block out all of his jests and drunk comments from where you were seated.

Under the table, your grip on Jace had tightened the more Lord Lannister talked. It was like you were taking your anger at his snide comments out on Jace’s poor flesh, but the prince did not mind. In fact, he was too busy clenching his own fist to notice that it was yours causing him pain. The diplomatic smile on his face began to slip a little bit the more that miserable man ran his mouth.

God’s forgive him—Jace was trying his very best not to kill him.

“And then I said: I’ll buy you a bloody dragon if that’s what you want, but I guess the lady wishes to be with one that has true blood running through his veins.”

The whole section around the Lannister burst out laughing, but you didn’t find his commentary of your last interaction entertaining, and neither did Jace. His jaw ticked, obvious annoyance in his eyes as you shared a look. It was hard to miss the slight dig Lord Lannister had thrown at him by adding in true blood.

A dig that made Jace uncomfortable, just as he always was when someone even remotely questioned who his parents were.

A few seats over, you could see that you weren’t the only ones barely hanging on to your diplomatic smile as Princess Rhaenyra struggle to even lift the corner of her lips at Jason’s recount. Much like her son, she did not like it when people brought up who the father of her children was. And understandably so—as it wasn’t their business who the Princess chose to father her heirs.

You yourself somehow always knew the truth, despite Jace never really talking about it with you. But with the resemblance to Harwin Strong as clear as day, you knew that he wasn’t of any Velaryon blood. Not that you minded though, because if he was, he wouldn’t really be your Jace.

Sweet, kind, and more gentle than any of those other Lords that had approached you combined. Your Jace that was patient and…

Positively about to lose his mind as Jason Lannister made another remark.

“I think it is good, you know. That Lady Y/N choose the prince, because honestly we all know that I can be a bit much at times,” Everyone laughed and agreed at this. But Jason wasn’t finished. “No, no, I think it’s extremely fitting that she chose him, because Y/N is a simple woman and she needs to be with someone…unexperienced to match her naïveté. Gods knows I’ve made plenty of rounds in my days, but Prince Jacaerys is noble enough to never experience such things. A good thing for his future wife, I suppose. Or bad depending on how many children she should want.”

Laughter immediately rang out at the last few parts, and Jace turned beet red as Lord Lannister all but insinuated that he wouldn’t know to…um…satisfy your needs.

Your jaw dropped at the crude comment, disguised as a joke that many deemed funny. You even caught the king and his sons chuckling a little bit, which was the only reason you couldn’t physically do anything about what he said. It was just harmless teasing, that was all. But you knew more than anyone that Jace wouldn’t take it that way.

And you were right.

Your lover had always been quite sensitive, but especially when it came to you and your relationship. He already possessed many self-doubts because his kind nature held him back, often prompting Jace to believe that he was weak. Which was the last thing he was, you assured him, but sometimes when an idea was in his head it was hard to get rid of it.

Which was why the minute Jacaerys believed that Lord Lannister was making a mockery of him, he got angry. And suddenly the warm grip that had been keeping you grounded all night was gone, and you watched with a thumping heart as Jacaerys stood up.

His fists slammed angrily against the table, which caused you to flinch and the silverware to clatter underneath his force. Immediately, the sound of his chair scraping had silence bestowing over the crowd of nobles, everyone’s eyes on him as he stood there.

Worriedly, you looked up at Jace and you hoped that he wasn’t about to cause a scene, possibly jumping across the table to strangle Jason Lannister. It sure looked that way, so you tried to calm him down by standing up as well, gently whispering in his ear,

“Jace, my love. It is all right. Let him mock and let us just sit back down, alright?”

A comforting hand was placed at the small of his back, but even your gentle touch couldn’t shake the anger and embarrassment he felt. With everyone looking at him, whispers began to rise. Rhaenyra’s face dropped as her son turned beet red.

“Is something the matter?” The king asked, and that seemed to be the only thing that could finally snap Jace out of his trance.

The prince looked at his Grandsire, and he was oddly calm as he moved his lips.

“I am fine, your grace,” Jace insisted through a tight smile, his eyes not reflecting the emotions he was putting out. “I’m just a little bit overwhelmed, that is all. All of the attention tonight has clouded my head and I think I shall head to my chambers before I gain a headache. If that is alright with his grace.”

“Yes, of course,” Ever having the soft spot for Rhaenyra and her children, Viserys dismissed him from the feast and Jace took off at a pace faster than you had ever seen him walk.

He stormed out of the grand dining room, and that left only you, the center of attention now that your betrothed was gone.

“I…” Your eyes were steadily focused on Jace’s disappearing back, and you knew in your heart that you had to go after him. To make sure that he was okay, because you knew how these kinds of things got to him. “Is it all right if I be excused as well, your grace?” You asked as kindly as you could, throwing in, “I don’t believe I’m feeling very well either,” so that no one would be too suspicious of you going after Jace.

Of course, it was probably obvious what you intended to do but Viserys dismissed you anyways. So, you quickly bowed and then headed after your lover as fast as your feet could take you.

Jacaerys hadn’t left that far before you, so it was easy enough to catch up to him, slipping in behind him right as he prepared to close the doors to his chamber.

The wooden locks clicked into place and now you were stuck there with him as Jacaerys looked at you with his jaw slightly dropped.

“My love, what are you—”

“I had to see if you were all right,” You told him quickly, quieting your voice as if there was anyone but him around to hear you. “You…left dinner quite early and quite abruptly,” You added, “So I wanted to make sure that Lord Lannister didn’t hurt your feelings too badly with his poor jests.”

At this, you weren’t expecting Jacaerys to scoff at your words. You were surprised when he looked at you fiercely, the look in his eyes one that you had never seen before.

Pure anger.

“It is not my feelings that I’m concerned about,” He then told you, shaking his head, “But rather yours, and what you might feel towards me after his…implications.”

“His implications?” You rose a sudden eyebrow at this, extremely confused as to what Jacaerys was trying to say. “And what exactly did Jason Lannister imply that would effect my feelings towards you?”

“Well isn’t it obvious?” It wasn’t. “He was trying to imply that I won’t know how to fuck my own wife! The nerve he has, saying that to your face. I am sure he hoped it would steer you away from me to soothe his own ego, but I assure you, sweet darling, that while I am inexperienced, I am still well-versed on how to please a lady. I have read many books—”

“Jacaerys!”

You cut him off as heat flooded to your cheeks, which luckily he wasn’t able to see. A burning feeling traveled through your body at such lewd words, words that you had never heard escape from his mouth before. Never in the presence of you or any other lady for that matter.

Words that…sent a flaming desire straight to your core.

“Oh gods,” As if he suddenly realized what he had said, Jacaerys backed away and covered his mouth bashfully. In the heat of the moment, he had ranted entirely too much and now he had flustered his poor betrothed, who looked like she didn’t know what to do with herself as she looked at him. “My darling, I am so sorry. I did not mean—”

You cut him off with a giggle and Jacaerys was floored when you started laughing at his rambling rather than scolding him. Laughing as if what he had just said wasn’t inappropriate, and entirely not a conversation he should be having with you while you were unwed and alone in his chambers.

But alas, you did not seem to mind as you walked up to him and placed your hand in his. Jacaerys felt his cheeks heat up as his sheepish gaze met yours, but you were nothing less than amused as you said, “My dear prince, it is quite alright. I do not mind if you speak of such things with me.”

“But—”

“In fact,” You ignored his protesting and kept going, the burning sensation of your core egging you on. “I quite…liked hearing you say those kinds of words.”

“You did?” The disbelief was evident on his face. Jacaerys couldn’t hide his shock as you shyly nodded, giving his hand a tight squeeze.

“I think it is exciting that you think of me that way,” You confessed, slowly bringing your body closer to his. Jacaerys nearly lost his breath as your head craned to look at him, your eyelashes batting innocently. “That you’ve thought enough about us making love that you actually gained knowledge on how to do it properly.”

“I did,” Jace confirms with a bob of his throat. A twitch of his cock at how close your bodies were. “I read…I read all about it. I even asked…a few knights about it so that I could make sure I did it correctly. When the time comes, of course.”

“Is that so?” You purred as you ghosted your lips against his, Jace taking in a sharp intake of breath from the action. His body was screaming at him to just close that gap between the two of you, to kiss you make all his desires melt away. But his mind…the lessons that he had drilled into his head since childbirth, held him back.

Jace knew more than anyone that there was a certain order to these things; that he had to be gentleman to the very last second until you were wed. That he had to be patient and most importantly, not think about all the dirty things he wanted to do to you in that moment.

It was improper.

You knew it, and he did too. But somehow, as your lips and his own desire tempted him, Jace for once in his life seemed to not care for the rules.

“Yes,” He breathed out in ecstasy as his mind finally sunk out of reason, giving into the temptation that claimed most men. He looked down at you and then he uttered the words he knew would cause him nothing but trouble.

“Would you like me to prove it to you, my darling?” He asked. And you, having become just as eager as he was, nodded.

“Yes, my prince.” You all but begged him.

And so it was sealed. Jace’s lips met yours in a swift kiss, hot and passionate as you tangled your fingers in his hair. Jace moaned as you tugged, a way to bring him closer without saying the words. Quickly, your lover complied and Jacaerys moaned in your mouth as your body pressed against his.

Likewise, you let out a small gasp as the feeling of his hard member brushed over your thigh. You knew that men got…excited while doing certain acts, but you certainly never witnessed it before and you never expected it to turn you on like it did.

Jace’s arousal only triggered your own, something in between your legs beginning to stir as you deepened the kiss.

Almost involuntarily, your thighs began to grind together causing Jace to smile lightly against your lips and hold you even closer. With clammy hands, he pressed down on your waist and managed to guide your body towards his bed without breaking the kiss. Then, once your back hit the soft fabrics of his sheets, he pulled away and crawled on top of you.

Soft brown eyes met yours and you could see that Jace’s pupils were blown with desire. Lust, an emotion you’d never seen so prominent before, danced across his face and promoted him to reach out and trace the soft curves of your cheeks. He leaned down to kiss them both, and when he whispered in your ear how much he loved you, you couldn’t stop the shiver that ran down your spine.

You needed him, and you needed him badly. Your body was aching in way that you never thought was possible before, every fiber in your being craving Jace. Your most intimate parts were throbbing for him, and you wanted him to touch you before the sensation drove you wild. So, in a quick desperation, you grabbed his hand and placed it on your chest.

Jace looked surprised as you did, shocked by the desperate look in your eyes. He had never imagined that you’d want him as much he wanted you, but alas, he wasn’t going to question it. Like a good boy, he started to comply with your silent request and gently massaged the clothed flesh underneath, his actions causing you to gasp a little bit.

You looked at Jace and the feeling felt nice but—you wanted more. Hastily, you grabbed his hand again and brought it down to ghost over the strings of your dress, already beginning to undo the laces before Jacaerys quickly helped.

Together, you managed to get the tight fabric loosened and Jace nearly drooled as your breast popped out. The sweet sight of your exposed flesh caused his cock to twitch, wanting nothing more than to lean in and capture your breast in his mouth. He wanted to touch you and he wanted to explore you so bad, so that’s what he did.

He left the bottom half of your body clothed so that he could take one of your hardened nipples into his mouth, the new sensation taking you by shock. You gasped as Jace’s lips wrapped around your bud, licking and sucking and causing you to moan as you tangled your hands in his hair.

Never had you ever experienced the pleasure of someone sucking on your breasts before, and Jace looked up to see that you had fluttered your eyes shut in pleasure, a smile on your face.

Clearly, you were enjoying his actions which made him a bit more confident as he moved to your other bud. He took that one in his mouth and left sweet marks you’d have to cover in the morning. Licking and marking your chest so that you may remember who you belonged to, and the pleasure that he caused you.

Jace knew you wouldn’t forget; not after what else he had planned for you. After this, he was going to make sure his beloved knew in her heart and soul that the man she was going to marry was more than capable of pleasuring her.

Not that you ever doubted him anyways, but you were throughly shocked when Jace abandoned your chest for something a little more exciting. For something he had learned from Daemon in secret; a sure fire way to get any lady riled up.

Jace trusted his uncle and you trusted him, so when he started to pull the rest of your dress down you didn’t resist him. In fact, you aided him by lifting your hips up, eager to get the restricting fabric off. It felt like it was choking you even though your chest was already exposed. Restricting you from experiencing what you really wanted; what Jace was desperate to show you.

You could see it in his face that he was determined, biting his lip as he glanced your body over. By now, you were fully naked below him and your cunt throbbed as the cool air lapped against it. It caused you to shiver and look at Jace with a questioning look in your eyes, wondering what else he had in store for you.

Fortunately, Jace was generous lover and he didn’t keep you waiting long. Which was why he leaned back down to connect your lips together.

The kiss was hot, desperation spilling over like lava from an active volcano. It burned both you and Jace but the sting felt so good, especially when he started to use his fingers to trace your body.

Ever so lightly, he trailed down and your hips bucked a little as he brushed some of your sweet spots. The spots on your body that had you trembling a little, white hot desire flashing in your stomach.

You didn’t stop him as Jacaerys trailed his fingers lower and lower, but you had to admit that you were nervous. His lips helped a little bit, but the nerves you felt from being touched for the very first time seemed to eat you alive.

You were glad Jace took the liberty of studying before hand because you would have no idea what to do. You let him take control and it was obvious that Jace was grateful as he pulled away from your lips.

Slightly swollen, he curved them into a smile and lingered just below your belly button. Tempting you with his feather-light touches, dazzling you with those big brown eyes.

You swore your heart was going to burst in your chest from all the love and excitement you felt, and you were sure Jacaerys felt the same. You hadn’t the courage to fully look at him yet, but you caught glances of the way his cock was straining against his dress pants. Thick and hard, a fact that made you both nervous and eager.

Slowly, your body grew hot and your mind went blank as Jace leaned down to nibble on your ear. Sighing lightly, you wrapped your arms around his neck and shivered when he began to speak.

“Sweet girl, would you like for me to show you what I’ve learned now?” He all but purred, and you couldn’t stop the embarrassingly quick nod that came from after, nor the clench of your thighs as your core throbbed.

“Please—” You rasped out the word like a begger on the streets asking for favor. Only, it wasn’t food or gold that you were seeking.

You wanted him, and only him as you stared up at Jacaerys. Your E/C eyes met his dark brown ones and you could see them twinkling as he smiled at you, obviously pleased with your answer.

“Hm,” He pretended to think about it for a moment which nearly killed you with anticipation. You bit your lip as his fingers danced dangerously close to your heat, obviously teasing you which you hated.

Luckily though, Jacaerys had never been a cruel man, so it was only a few more seconds of torture before he gave in to your desires. “As you wish then, my love,” He decided, and then his fingers dropped to a place that only he could touch.

“Jacaerys—”

You mewled as his slender fingers rubbed your aching core, gasping when he brushed over your bundle of nerves and then crying out as Jace pushed a finger inside of you.

You were wet, so it was easy for him to sink into your cunt but it didn’t make the stretch any less uncomfortable.

Tears kissed your eyes since you had never had anyone’s fingers inside of your cunt, not even your own, but Jacaerys was quick to soothe you with a simple praise. He whispered how proud of you he was for taking him, encouraging you on until he sunk deeper and deeper.

Your tight cunt welcomed his digit reluctantly, but eventually Jace was able to put his whole finger inside of you and he took note of how tight you were. Something in his brain couldn’t stop thinking about how much he wanted it to be his cock that you clenched around, but as agonizing as it was to have to wait, he knew that this was a crucial step for you.

So, slowly he began to pump his digit in and out, looking for any sign of discomfort from you. He held your gaze and while it did sting just a little bit, you couldn’t deny that the foreign sensation also felt…kind of good.

You’d never felt anything like it, but it made your walls clench in ways that had you moaning a little. Jace took this as a sign that you liked what he was doing and kept going, something inside of you began to awaken. Pleasure, perhaps, stirring inside of your cunt as Jace pleased you just the way he had learned.

You were gasping and groaning, your mouth forming into an ‘o’ shape when Jace’s finger brushed against a particularly sensitive part inside of your sex. Involuntarily, your hips bucked off of the bed, your back curling to the point where Jace had to hold you down.

He licked his lips as your delicious moans filled his ears and decided all of a sudden that you were ready for more.

Slowly, he sank his middle finger into you and then began to quicken his pace. The added digit surprised you, but it was definitely welcomed by your fluttering cunt. And fuck—you never knew anything could feel this good, broken moans slipping through your lips as Jacaerys assaulted the most sensitive parts of you. His thumb rubbed pleasureful circles against your pearl while his middle and index fingers brushed against your sweet spot over and over again. It seemed that Jace had found just the right angle to please you, and whatever it was had you gasping for breath.

It felt so good and it caused your cunt to clench around him, Jace panting as a tight feeling built up in your stomach. It almost…it almost felt like there was something inside of you that was going to burst, like a dam threatening to overflow at any moment. It built and it built, waves of pleasure lapping over you the more Jace played with your pearl. The combination of him hitting your sweet spot and doing that was enough to send you over the edge, and a strange volcano of bliss erupted over through body.

“Mhmm, Jace! Oh, gods! I’m gonna—”

You didn’t get to finish your sentence as suddenly, your very first orgasm rushed over you and stole the very breath from your lungs. You nearly stopped breathing as your cunt clamped down on Jace’s fingers, your sweet arousal coating the digits and the sheets underneath you. No doubt they were drenched from the sin that Jace had just pulled from your body, but that was the absolute least of your concerns.

Your were more worried about the fact that your mind had gone blank, your eyes hazy as you experienced the foreign pleasure.

It caused your body to nearly go limp and you were mumbling incoherent nonsense as Jace watched you. Brown eyes drank in every single detail that was in front of him, burning the image of your sweet cunt coated with your juices in his head. Coated with your orgasm that he pulled from you, despite never even laying with a woman before.

To say he was proud of himself was an understatement. Jace was so happy that he made you come undone with his fingers, but he was so hard that he could barely find it in himself to gloat.

Not when his cock was still straining against his trousers, reminding Jace that the best was yet to come.

His fingers had only been round one. But—you quickly realized that there was more in store for you as Jace began to get undressed.

One by one, you watched with anxious eyes as each article of Jace’s dress clothes came off. First his tunic which had you staring at his defined chest, then his belt which had you trembling in anticipation.

Finally, when Jace’s trousers came off and he was as bare as you were in the moment, you held your breath as your eyes focused on his hardened length.

It was the first time you had ever seen a man in such a way and Jace’s cock intimidated you. It stood tall against his stomach, almost taunting you as he walked closer.

As if he could sense your nerves, Jace’s expression turned to one of sweetness and reassurance as the prince mounted you and positioned himself near your entrance.

Slowly, he began to stroke the tip of his cock against your folds which caused you to pant heavily. You wrapped your legs around his waist like it was instinct, and Jace’s right hand came up in order to loving stroke your face.

He stared into your eyes, and then he began to push himself in.

The pain that everyone described wasn’t so bad, especially not when Jace had already warmed you up. In fact, you were pleasantly surprised that it was no more than a slight sting, that died down as Jace stilled his hips inside of you.

He waited until you were more comfortable to start moving, looking at for the slightest signs to stop. He was always so sweet, your dear betrothed. So loving and gentle with you.

But now, it was time to be anything but.

The ache you had for him was becoming unbearable so you moved your hips to let him know it was okay. Holding on tight as he began to push past your barriers, your walls and hands gripping him tight.

Jacaerys groaned at the feeling once he was fully sheathed inside of you. So tight—fuck, you were so warm. He swore that you were sucking him in, already on the path to milk him dry.

He felt like he was going to come and not that the prince had any complaints, but he wanted to last longer for you. To make your first time special, so he held on and slowly moved his hips.

His pace allowed you to feel everything, every drag of his cock along your walls. It caused illicit moans to escape from your lips and your fingernails to dig into his back.

Jacaerys winced a little at the feeling but you didn’t notice due to the pleasure clouding your senses. The only thing you could focus on was the fact that his cock was hitting spots inside of you that you didn’t even know existed.

So good—so sweet. Your prince was all yours, and you proved this by leaving small marks on his shoulder.

If anyone asked, Jace would simply tell them they were bites from bugs. Never would he reveal your secret, for he knew what the two of you were doing was forbidden.

But he didn’t care.

The future king didn’t understand how something so wrong could feel so right. It truly felt like you were made for him; born to take his cock for all eternity.

The thought of this caused Jacaerys to snap his hips more violently. His pace sped up and soon his cock was driving in and out with lewd sounds filling the room. The sound your wetness coating his cock became all that he could focus on, his own moans echoing throughout the room as he chased his peak.

Likewise, you were mewling underneath him, eyes closed in bliss. The feeling of him inside of you caused pressure to build in your stomach, which only accentuated when he reached down to play with your pearl.

Gasping, your eyes shot open and you moaned while Jacaerys held your gaze. He was confident in the way he moved his fingers, trusting his uncle and the books that provided his knowledge. Every source he sought out said that this would be action that brung you to your peak, this would make you come undone.

And Gods, how right they were.

Jacaerys watched as you began to writhe underneath him and how your eyes rolled to the back of your head the faster that he played with your sex. He toyed with all of the spots that made you feel good while simultaneously keeping his pace, rocking in and out of you.

It felt so good that you could hardly breathe, let alone think straight as you let out a shout and came without another warning.

Your legs locked up, your cunt clenching down on him and you held onto Jacaerys’ body for dear life as you moaned and writhed underneath him. Your eyes fell to the back of your head and sure enough, not even a second later Jace was joining you with his own peak.

The prince closed his eyes, breathing heavily as he joined your hands together before letting his seed coat your walls.

Nevermind the consequences or the fact that you weren’t even married yet, Jace just wanted to feel you and he did. He made sure that the two of you were as close as possible, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck and burying himself as deep he could go.

He whispered sweet nothings in your ear and you drank them in, drank him in as a warm feeling coated your body. You were breathing heavily and you had never felt so sweaty, but you were content laying underneath Jacaerys and looking into his eyes.

At that moment, nothing else mattered to you and when his lips captured yours, you felt complete.

A little sore, but it didn’t matter as Jacaerys pulled away and stroked your face.

“Are you alright, my love?” He asked softly, and you nodded as a smile crossed your face.

“I’ve never been better,” You told him honestly. “That was…amazing.”

“I’m glad I was able to prove myself then,” Jacaerys said, and you both let out a laugh as he pulled himself out of you, rolling over so he could lay by your side.

You had to admit, you felt a little empty now that he was no longer inside of you but the warmth of his body was quickly able to make up for it. Jacaerys wrapped his arms around you, allowing you to lay on his chest whilst you both caught your breath.

You both knew that you only had limited time to hold one another other, since the feast was still raging on and neither of you wanted to be gone for too long. It would be too suspicious so the time that you did have, you cherished it in silence until finally it was time to get dressed.

Your cheeks were hot the entire time you slipped your dress back on and the smile never once left your face. You were so happy, you felt like you could barely contain yourself as you faced Jacaerys again.

Soft hands cupped your face and brown eyes met yours. Jacaerys leaned in to kiss you and you let him, resting your forehead on his as you sighed.

“Back to the monkey fest we go,” You told him sadly, not wanting to go back. You wanted nothing more than to just stay with Jacaerys and lay in his arms forever. You just wanted to be married already and never have to leave your chambers again if you didn’t want to. And you could tell that Jace felt the same way, but you both knew it wasn’t possible. Not tonight, at least.

“We shall be married soon enough, my love, and next time we won’t have to,” Jace promised as he grabbed your hands. They fit perfectly together, and you smiled as he kissed the back of yours. “Next time, we will not invite Jason Lannister and there shall be no more questions as to if I can please my wife.”

There was still distain in his voice and you knew he was still irritated by Jason’s comments. You’d be lying if you said that you weren’t upset too, but after what just happened, you knew you didn’t have anything to worry about.

“I think you’ve already proved that plenty,” You told Jace, giggling.

He smiled.

“Come. Let us go back before they come searching for us,” He suggested, and then off you two went, unable to wipe the smiles off of your faces, and the look that Jace threw towards the eldest Lannister once you got back to the feast was full of smugness, knowing that he proved him wrong and that his future bride had absolutely nothing to worry about.

[fallenhunnyapple]

Some Baby Savior AU Expansion

This is an Adamsapple AU because I love them they have taken over my life. I'm sorry in advance because there's a lot going on and I'm bad at being succinct.

This AU works under the Assumption that Adam didn't Die to get into Heaven. He was Ascended while he was still alive as a 'reward' for staying 'good', having not eaten of the Fruit of Knowledge. But his children were still tainted because of their mother, and so while they were still young, the eldest still only being in their teens, he was taken away from them to stay safe in Heaven.

Also, there are yearly meetings held a week after Exterminations where Lucifer and Adam (and Lute) meet in order to discuss quotas, numbers, etc. They're mandatory as per the agreement.

So-

Lilith left Lucifer while Charlie was still just an infant and he had to raise her alone. It was Difficult and when Lucifer was Busy, Charlie spent a lot of time being watched by her Aunts and Uncles, the Sins. But he foolishly let himself trust the people of his ring once and they took advantage, an Overlord trying to vy for more influence hired someone to steal the Princess and hold her hostage. The night before the Extermination.

Lucifer is already overworked and stressed and now having his daughter kidnapped made him lose his mind and go on a full rampage, destroying part of Pentagram City in his blind rage and panic. Which, Great for the Exorcists as long as they keep out of his way because that means they can pick off all the freaked out and fleeing sinners.

And it's during this panicked frantic mess that Adam quite literally drops in on these shady sinners (through the ground because of Hell's shitty infrastructure) who try to Kill him. Surprise, Angelic Steel weapons are being manufactured and they can Hurt Angels. They're still no match for Adam, so he kills them, but not without getting nicked by a few bullets, his arm injured, his wing useless, and his mask a little shattered. And then he hears a fussy crying sound and finds a baby hidden in a nearby crate. Pale with cute red cheeks and golden hair. She reminds him of someone. And she reminds him of his youngest daughter the last time he saw her... Well, she's hellborne, so he wasn't going to kill her anyway. Maybe he'll just take her home with him and he can puppy dog eyes at Sera until she let him keep her!

But he can't fly with these injuries, so he needs to go to the Embassy where he knows Lute and his girls will be waiting for him. But the Embassy is really close to Lucifer's rampage zone. What's he being so insane about anyway? And after almost becoming collateral, and Adam Yelling at him, it clicks. Those red cheeks were familiar for a reason. She must be his kid. There go his plans for bringing her with him. And here he was picking out a name and everything : / He can't bring himself to hate her or to take her away from her dad when he's obviously so upset. It's Begrudgingly that he gets Lucifer's attention to give the baby back. He's attached to her now.

A week after the Extermination, there's a meeting. To discuss the use of Angelic Weapons in hell, to find out who and how they're being made and distributed and ending that production immediately. And Lucifer can't exactly trust anyone in Pride anymore so Charlie comes to the meeting. She's happy to see the weird Kitty again. Adam is Thrilled to see her and spends a good chunk of the meeting making silly faces to make her laugh.

This becomes Normal, Charlie coming to the meetings, too young to understand anything but excited to get to see Adam. She has very clearly gotten attached to him.

Many years pass (Charlie is over 200 years old, and I assume that means super slow aging so she's developmentally 6 years old) and Adam tells Lucifer to not bring Charlie to the meeting. Lucifer agrees and leaves her with Bee in Gluttony. At the meeting, Adam is there in person, pacing and stressed. Lucifer arrives to find him in that state and Adam breaks down, begging on his knees for Lucifer to keep him in Hell. He can't go back to Heaven. They're going to make him remarry Lilith and she's probably into pegging and he doesn't want to be pegged.

Lucifer tries to wrap his mind around the fact that Lilith is in Heaven. Adam feels a little guilty but what was he supposed to do? He couldn't force Lilith to go home and stop being a deadbeat Mom. Lucifer is Mad that Adam never told him Lilith was in Heaven, he knew how much of a struggle he was having without her. Adam tries to make excuses and reverts to begging again, saying they won't let him leave Heaven again if he goes back. And that hits a cord. Lucifer's angry about the thing with Lilith, but Charlie didn't know her mother. She knew Adam though, and he doesn't want her to go through the pain of losing someone important to her. Okay, he'll help keep Adam safe in Hell so Heaven can't get to him. And by that Point, Adam was reminded that there's a chance that Heaven might come after Charlie so actually he'd be staying regardless so he can keep an Eye on Charlie and keep her safe.

Unbeknownst to Adam though, Lucifer has a secret. He'd fallen in love with him. It's 100% because of seeing how good Adam is with Charlie. Charlie is Lucifer's Everything, she is the most important thing in his life and she likes and gets along with Adam and Adam clearly cares for her and that means more than anything else could. And he's in love because of it. But he doesn't tell Adam that.

Together Adam and Lucifer raise Charlie, they're Dad/Daddy and Dadam (Adam came up with it because actually being called a nickname for father reminded him too much of the kids he didn't get to see grow up). And when Charlie gets old enough to move out on her own, Empty Nest Syndrome kicks in. But in the "we're not raising a kid together anymore, we should go our separate ways" kinda way. Because the entire time Lucifer never said anything about his feelings so they'd been Platonically co-parenting for over a century while Lucifer pined.

Charlie finds out that Adam is thinking of moving out and panics because she thinks this means her dads are getting a divorce. She never knew they weren't married. She never knew they weren't even Together. Because they sure Seemed to love each other all those years! She tries to encourage her dad to tell Adam how he feels and he does. It doesn't go well. Adam doesn't believe it, he refuses. (And it's not because he doesn't love him, Adam has loved him consistently since Eden) But he just can't accept it and decides it's Definitely better to move out. Lucifer goes into a depressive isolated episode while Adam is out there going on week long Benders to try and cope. The Sins have to get involved once Charlie reaches out, worried about both of them because Lucifer is barely responsive and Adam is dismissive. Ozzie tries to find out what's going on with Lucifer and Bee is taking care of the doped up drunken depressed mess that is Adam, she knows how to deal with drunks.

The Sins and Charlie are going to help them sort out their shit so they can actually try to be happy together the way they should have been the whole time. That's about where the conversation's ended for now. Orz this is long

Gonna @ the people who seemed interested in more info @lordxsblog @fightinsoda

[bunji-enthusiast]

Only Man (Your own love kills)

Note || jealousy scenario rahhh, it’s kinda one? Or isn’t? Idk I went down the hills. Also some context, some humans actually survived the hour of joy, so there is a few mentions of camp stuffs.

WC || 896

Sypnosis || In a world of comfort, seems he can’t begin to fathom the reality of emotions settling within him.

Have you ever been in love?

If he was being honest, life was fuzzy, even more so temperamental that he was from human to dusk and dawn. But he wouldn’t have traded it for anything if it meant he would see you in his non-life or life over and over again.

That is one thing so entirely unique to the quality of dogs, they are loyal and strong with you to the end.

In the sense of irony, he never would’ve expected to be DogDay. But he had long since lived with the idea that he lived this way, to be a leader and a friend to all those he held dear. He never would’ve become anything else, not if he had anything to do with it.

DogDay doesn’t mind sacrificing his own life and body to protect others, to mean if they live. Sure, he may not live to see that aspect he was wholeheartedly himself, that was how he knew he wasn’t completely off the dark end as DogDay.

It was his name and his alone, to be frank; madness, torment and the ripping away of the happiness once had was abnormally flippant to the reality he once knew and loved. DogDay had lived with it, it became the norm for him to live so strongly, trying to be a light those can vy for and not lose themselves in the process.

Love was one remaining factor to his stillborn life, DogDay wasn’t anchoring toward anything. Always having to down his head in order for those alive and their with him meant he could live with that, strong willed humans and toys alike holding their heads up high, that meant he had to stand still and straight so they could see how far they had come.

Hush little baby don’t you cry.

That tune was familiar, was he here? Beyond the specific residence of his permeance, no, he was alive and here. Everyone was okay, camp to be sure, but you too were there. DogDay was content, he didn’t even need words, actions were more than enough.

Everything’s gonna be alright.

You were singing such a wonderful tune, yet a wrenching pit in the gut of his fabricated stomach caused him to think otherwise from the place of his peace. A human male was getting a little too close to you for his liking, trying to stray away from employee regulations no doubt. DogDay wasn’t gonna let that slide, he wasn’t going to allow him to tarnish your personal boundaries and sure as hell was gonna make sure that he knew that.

Stiffen that upper lip, little lady..

DogDay stood up from where he had sat, back being rubbed against the rubble stone wall, for a moment it almost hurt. Yet the pain faded away just as quickly as it came, he began walking, calming himself as your melodic tunes remained ever as wavering to his ears.

All was okay and well between the people in the encampment, strained suffice to say with the amount of space people were left with – but they all had each other to lean and rely on. Not akin to the likes of the Prototype and the rest of his brainwashed lackeys. 

‘Oh CatNap, I wish you could’ve come with us. Why turn to his side?’

DogDay perked up at the whisper shouting his down-trodded ears were picking up, seeing the easel of jealousy churning in his gut. You were trying to turn away the exact guy still with you from which he saw earlier, he turned around from where his body had been hidden from view.

You and the man were greeted by the sight of a very large DogDay.

You set down your guitar, smiling at seeing him. “Hi DogDay! What’s up?” He waved for a moment, then turned to sit down with you and the man. Who seemed to be clearly quivering in half-sighted fear, sensing the intentions of DogDay.

“Nothing to be worried about Angel,” He began, voice still roughed up from previous events. “But is this gentleman bothering you?” DogDay asked, motioning to the man who began inching away from the both of you, seeing as he made (a very clear) mistake.

You waved DogDay off, “Oh this guy? He ain’t bothering me.” Head turning before you had spoke with a hint of finality.

“You were leaving, right?” The man nodded, the look of fear very evident on his poor face. Then he finally walked off with a stride that clearly spoke, ‘Don’t kill me please.’ 

In hindsight, DogDay was going to shield you from him. It seemed that was all it took to get you away from his very slimy presence, he sighed internally, as he wasn’t one to want to cause altercations.

He was a more methodical man – toy? Person? – then that anyway, DogDay then looked up, gaining eye contact with you. With a small wave of his paw in return, “Weren’t you singing? I’d love to hear more of it, Angel.” You smile at him with a scoff escaping you, picking up the guitar to re-adjust your position that you had set your fingers upon the lines originally.

DogDay was glad to be up close to hear your beautiful singing.

Compared to that icky emotion he felt earlier, that was rather confusing as he thought about it.

This was much better.

[rollinouttahere]

Joyride

Yandere Strawhats + Ace x Isekai Reader

2.2k words

Part 2

Yet again, this fic is inspired by @lovelybrooke ‘s Isekai reader stories.

I also want to say thank you for all the support and kind comments on the last story I wrote! I’ve actually been working on my own yandere one piece fic that I’m hoping to start posting in a few days give or take, so if you like what I’ve written so far, keep an eye out for that! All future writings are gonna be posted on my writing blog @rollinouttahere-writes​ so go follow that blog if you’re interested!

Trying to act normal and inconspicuous in the One Piece universe was a far from easy task. Being the massive fan of the series that you were, it was damn hard to not give away that you knew all about the crew that was so generously letting you stay with them after appearing on their ship with zero explanation.

It became even harder to stay lowkey when Ace temporarily joined up with the Strawhats. All you wanted was to hug that man and tell him how loved he is and that he deserves to live just as much as anyone else, but you really couldn’t say or do any of that without looking weird. You’ll just have to settle for being extremely nice to him, which was very easy.

Ace himself was already an easy guy to get along with (now at least), but he was noticeably very interested in you. You couldn’t blame him, what with Luffy almost immediately outing your insane situation to him. He seemed incredulous at first, but warmed up to and accepted the story way faster than you expected. It didn’t take long for his questions to go from feeling like an interrogation to being genuine.

You were so busy soaking up the attention from such a beloved character that you almost missed how jealous your crewmates were getting. Luffy, Usopp, and Chopper were taking it the best. Chopper probably because he was still so new to the crew that he wasn’t all that bothered by one of them not paying as much attention to him. Usopp was too busy building Nami’s weapon to concern himself with it too much. Meanwhile, Luffy was just so happy to see Ace again that he didn’t really notice that you were spending a lot of time with him. That, and he would usually be hanging out with both of you anyways. 

The others though, oh boy did they not like this. Nami was the most blatant about it, straight up glowering at you and Ace whenever you two were too close for her liking. You’re pretty sure the only thing keeping her from up and dragging you away from him is Luffy dismissing her complaints and telling her to stop fretting over it. You love being a part of their crew, so she should quit worrying!

Sanji and Zoro were both vying for your attention in their own ways as well. Sanji suddenly wanted more help around the kitchen, insisting that he needed an extra pair of hands now that there was another mouth to feed. Given that Ace’s appetite was on par with Luffy’s, you could understand the desire for help. Zoro’s attempts were considerably less convincing. One time he wanted you to spot him while he was working out, making you laugh right in his face at the mere idea that you would be able to help him with the ridiculous weights he lifts. His face had gone bright red after you pointed it out to him, prompting him to walk away immediately, much to your amusement.

Right now, though, you weren’t with Ace. Him and Luffy were busy doing something and you didn’t want to butt in on all their time together. Instead, you were ogling Ace’s boat that was currently tied to the side of the Going Merry.

You absolutely loved the design of his ship, it was such a clever idea to use his devil fruit ability to power a steam engine and make what looks like a tiny sailboat function like a jet ski. It didn’t appear in the anime too many times but everytime it was on screen it looked so cool. 

“I wonder what it’d be like to ride that,” you quietly mused to yourself.

“Wanna find out?”

You almost jumped out of your skin at the sudden arrival of Ace. He laughed at your reaction, not a care in the world for the near heart attack he just gave you.

“Oh my God, Ace, you scared the hell out of me!” You lightly slapped at his shoulder, your other hand resting over your now racing heart.

He laughed some more, “I could tell, and I’m sorry about that.” He didn’t sound even vaguely sorry. Ace elbowed your side, “But seriously, do you want to go for a ride?”

The offer had you staring wide-eyed at him. Then the boat. Then back at him again. “Really? Are you sure?” You were desperately trying to keep your cool and not show how insanely excited you were about the idea.

“Of course! I wouldn’t have offered it if I wasn’t. Come on,” he hopped up onto the railing and held his hand out to you. You didn’t need to mull it over, eagerly taking hold and stepping up with him. As soon as you did, he wrapped an arm around you and was ready to jump down onto his boat when Nami started yelling.

“Woah, woah, woah, what the hell are you two doing???” Nami, who was previously pruning her trees, had abandoned the activity entirely in favor of sprinting over to where you were and grabbing onto your leg.

“(Y/N) wanted to try riding my boat, so we’re going for a little joyride, that’s all,” Ace flashed Nami a dazzling smile, not at all deterred by her interruption.

“No way! What if they fall off? That thing doesn’t look safe at all!” Nami was now pulling on you, trying to get you down from the railing.

Ace held on tighter in response, “It’s perfectly safe, it has to be. I’m a devil fruit user, remember? (Y/N) isn’t, so really, I’m in more danger on that than they are. It’s fine.”

You could tell Nami was ready to argue more, but thankfully Luffy piped up, “Don’t worry about it Nami! If Ace says it’s safe then it’s safe!” Luffy, who was perched on his special seat at the bow, came bounding over, “But I wanna go next!”

“Sure thing, Luffy, we’ll be back in a bit,” Ace was quick to jump down with you in tow, not wanting to give any of the other Strawhats a chance to object. After untying it from the Going Merry, he knelt down slightly, “Hop on my back, you’re not gonna want to have your feet down there when we get going.”

Not wanting to get set on fire, you obliged. If you weighed anything to him, he didn’t show it, simply standing up straight as soon as you were on. “Ready?”

You excitedly nod your head, holding on tight to Ace in preparation. It was a good thing too, because he decided to immediately start at the leisurely speed of what felt like mach 7. A shriek emits from your throat as you take off. You think you can hear Nami yelling something again, but couldn’t make it out over your own screaming and the noise of the steam engine roaring to life.

Ace laughed loudly at your reaction, but did slow down slightly, “Sorry about that, I just wanted to get some distance before anyone else tried to stop us.” One of his arms let go of your leg and tugged at your arms around his neck, “But would you mind easing up a bit? I won’t be able to take us back if you choke me out.” 

“Oh oops, I’m sorry!” You immediately loosened your arms and readjusted them. Accidentally strangling Ace was not something you wanted to do today. Or any day really.

He simply shrugged it off, telling you not to worry about it. It’s not like you could really hurt him. “I’m gonna speed up again, you ready for it this time?”

The second you confirm that you are, the boat lurches forward, cutting through the waves like nothing. Now that you weren’t panicking, you could properly take in the experience and thoroughly enjoy it. 

The wind was whipping through your hair and sea water misted the air, droplets clinging to both yours and Ace’s hair. He hit a particularly big wave causing the boat to go airborne for a moment before crashing back down. You found yourself laughing and cheering as Ace continued to show off, which only egged him on more.

After a while, Ace slowed to a stop and let you down from his back. “C’mere, step up on this,” he stepped to the side and motioned for you to step up onto the front of his boat. His hands rested on your hips to keep you steady, presumably not wanting to get chewed out by Nami if you came back sopping wet. 

“This is one of the best parts of being at sea,” he was staring straight ahead. “Sunsets out here are something else, you don’t get a view like this on land.”

He was completely correct, it was beautiful. Orange, red, and pink hues colored the sky and reflected gorgeously in the ocean. It was a breathtaking view, one you would remember forever.

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence, quietly admiring the view with nothing but the natural sounds of the ocean around you. It was nice, very peaceful. 

“What do you think about staying here?”

You tense at Ace suddenly speaking. “Like staying out here a little longer?” As lovely as this was, the others were bound to get antsy if you stayed out after dark.

“No, I mean staying here in this world,” he stepped closer to you, wrapping his arms fully around you and resting his head on your shoulder to be able to see your face. “It’s nice here, right? Why not stick around? I know Luffy wants you to. Hell, I’m sure the rest of the crew does, too.”

You were taken aback by this statement, and weren’t really sure how to respond. Sure, it could be nice here when you all weren’t being hunted for sport by marines, but this wasn’t a place you could see yourself staying long term. That, and you had a life back home, you couldn’t just throw your friends and family to the wind like that.

Sucking in a breath, you searched for the nicest way to say all that. “It is nice here, but I have to go back.” You could feel his posture stiffen behind you, “Don’t get me wrong, you all have been super nice to me! It’s just that I’ve got all my friends and family back home and I miss them terribly.”

“Your family?” Ace said this so quietly that you weren’t even sure he was saying that to you. Abruptly, he straightened up, “I know! If you want a family so bad you can join the Whitebeard pirates!”

What? You joining the Whitebeard pirates? You already feel inadequate enough around the Strawhats, you can’t imagine how pathetic you would feel around those people. Of course, it would be awesome to get to meet them, but you want to keep to yourself as much as possible since you will eventually have to go back home.

While you were thinking, Ace kept going, “Pops would love you, I just know it. We haven’t gotten another sibling in a while, everyone would be psyched to meet you.” His once comforting hug was growing tighter by the second. Suffocating even.

“Ace-”

“And you already have friends with my brother’s crew, so that’s all taken care of!”

“Ace, ple-”

“Of course, I’m your friend too, but after you join I’ll be your big brother!”

“ACE!” Your yell startled him, mercifully making him let go of you. You take the opportunity to inch forward and create some distance, however minute.  “That’s,” oh, how to put this without hurting his feelings, “that’s very kind of you to offer, but I’d rather stay with the Strawhats for now.”

“Oh…” You don’t even need to turn around to know how disappointed he was by this declaration. He chuckled awkwardly, “I’m sorry about that, looks like I got a little carried away there.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” frankly, you just wanted to go back to the ship after that. The atmosphere was uncomfortable now.

After a few more seconds of silence, Ace cleared his throat and spoke again, “We should probably head back now, it’s gonna be dark soon.”

You were quick to agree and clambered onto his back, “Yeah that’s a good idea, Nami would throw a fit if we stay out much longer.” She’ll probably be mad regardless, but still.

Ace got his boat going and began the trip back. The Going Merry was a lot further away than you’d realized, it was so small that you could just barely make it out in the distance. You internally cringe, your crewmates are no doubt unhappy about you being this far away.

Despite the distance, you couldn’t help but notice how slow Ace was going compared to earlier. It’s like he wanted to drag this out for as long as possible. You decided not to call him out on it, not deeming it worth it.

“I’m not giving up, you know.”

“What?” 

“I’ll drop it for now, but I’m not giving up on you joining Whitebeard’s crew. Just… think about it, okay?” Ace’s voice was quiet, just barely loud enough to hear over the engine. 

The rest of the ride back remained dead silent, giving you plenty of time to mull over what just happened. It felt so… Weird. Out of character, really. He’s known you for, what? 24 hours? If that. Yet he’s trying to talk you out of going home and seems dead set on replacing your family with his own. Granted, everyone’s been more clingy than you thought normal, but this was downright bizarre. 

You really need to find a way home, and fast.

[marveloustimestwo]

Yandere Corlys Velaryon and secon wife reader.

I felt as though Rhaenys deserved some love here too. Still not over what happened to her.

Warnings: Yandere themes, one mention of other lords' poor treatment of their spouses, and one implication of murder

I can see both of them being pretty easy and normal as long as you're with them willingly.

Both of them are very charming if they want someone's attention. They know how to talk, and if they find themselves falling as fast as they are, they will talk well in order to make you interested in them as well.

Corlys in particular is very ambitious. When he becomes set on something, which is now you, it becomes very difficult to sway him from his goal.

In the world of Westeros, it would be very difficult to not accept their advances. Not when the Lord of the Tides, as rich as they come, and the Queen Who Never Was, who rode the fearsome dragon Meleys were the ones who showed such interest.

It didn't help that they were sweet. The gentleness and respect they treated you with were a welcome surprise when many other lords would ignore their wives at best and beat them at worst.

Despite Corlys's ambition and want for you, both he and Rhaenys would still take their time in getting to know you before proposing anything serious.

The only thing that would make them work a bit faster was the impending threat of someone else taking your hand.

If your father believes he has found a better match for you, Corlys would not hesitate to show him how wrong he was. There is no one else who could provide for you better. He is the Lord of the Tides, with the most access to ports and ships, along with a vast amount of riches. That, and there was no doubt in Corlys's mind that no other lord would treat you better than he could.

If another lord found himself vying for your attention, neither Corlys nor Rhaenys would take it too seriously. They trust you enough to know who the better match is.

If not, they have no problem finding a way to get rid of the pest.

As for actually marrying you, Westeros tends to stray away from certain things such as taking two wives, especially the Faith of the Seven.

Corlys and Rhaenys wouldn't particularly care about their opinions unless they actually tried to get in the way.

At the very least, they'll be happy to go through a Valyrien wedding and seal the marriage through fire and blood. For them, that is enough to have the marriage be a legitimate one.

Living the rest of their lives with you is the best they could ever dream of.

Corlys using his wealth to give you the finest gifts, as well as bringing you back intriguing things he's found on his journeys. If you'd like, he'd even take you with him on his long travels at sea.

Rhaenys would adore taking you on flights with Meleys and sees it as her own time bonding with you. Meleys would also adore you, her bond with Rhaenys helping her sense the sheer devotion her rider feels for you.

At times, Rhaenys would also enjoy urging Meleys to go a little faster, or to weave up and down a bit just to scare you. Never anything that actually puts you in danger, but just enough to make you hold onto her a little tighter.

Their time spent with you is something they hold very dear. From their time spent traveling with you to calm nights spent by the fire, filled with nothing but contentment and joy. It is something they would fight until the very end to protect.

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Hades , Hermes , and Poseidon with a fem Valkyrie reader who they have a crush on but reader is a combination of Hrist and Geiravor and when they fight reader , reader gives them the most disgusted look to them

-You were known in Valhalla as the most stunning of all the Valkyries, you radiated confidence, beauty, elegance, as well as power- many knew not to cross you.

-There were many gods as well as many humans who held you in high standard, putting you up on a pedestal, and in popularity contests, you always were the highest out of your sisters and out of everyone you always ranked in the top five.

-Your sisters all adored you and you adored them- you were fiercely protective of them, even the ones like Brunnhilde and Thrud, who were stronger than you.

-You were a blend of your sisters, both hard and soft, both wise and reckless, a perfect blend, but the sisters you resembled the most were Hrist and Geiravor, you could be calm and elegant, but pushed wrong, you were unforgiving and brutal, demanding respect.

-However, despite your admirers, you were single, as you always rejected the advances of others, politely letting them down the first time, firmly the second, then if they still tried and didn’t get the hint you didn’t hesitate to put them in their place.

-However, there were many who liked that- when you would put them in their place, finding your dominate personality, rather attractive.

-It’s not like you weren’t looking for romance, it’s just that those who were attracted to you weren’t your type- this was something you sisters sometimes teased you about, teasing that you were picky, which would always make you pout adorably.

-You disliked the types of men who believed you belonged to them just because they were powerful or high ranking, you also disliked men who believed you belonged to them- you didn’t belong to anyone!

-Unfortunately, these were the types that were vying for your affections, finding you ‘worthy’ of them, and expected you to just fall into their arms and be happy for the rest of your lives.

-That wasn’t a life that you wanted, you wanted to be free even while in a relationship, you wanted to be with someone who wouldn’t tie you down, who wouldn’t demand things of you, and most of all be loyal to you and you alone, and you would return it- all of it.

-When Brunnhilde told you and the other Valkyries about Ragnarok, you agreed, willing to fight alongside your sisters to help humanity, even at the risk of your own life.

-You mourned those who fell before you, your sisters and the warriors, and cheered for those who won, beaming with pride, and when it came to your turn, you weren’t scared in the slightest, something your partner felt, so in turn, he wasn’t scared either.

-You scowled lightly, seeing the god you were facing off against was one who had been very persistent in his advances towards you, despite your multiple refusals.

-You appeared beside your partner, a hand on his shoulder as (Love) saw you there, his eyes lighting up, “Ahh Y/N- how lovely to see you. Please break the Volundr so you will not be at risk. I don’t wish to harm you, my love.”

-Your glare was icy and fierce, looking down your nose at him as if he was a piece of trash, “I am not your love, (Love), nor will I ever be. I’ve told you before- I’m not interested! But I’m happy to beat that into you.”

-Hades- Was surprised at your ferocity, showing your strength as a Valkyrie, but smiled up at you, “Then I shall prove myself to you so that you will finally accept me!” you rolled your eyes with a disgusted groan before your partner readied his weapon as you spoke, “Let’s do this!” Hades loved seeing you fight, seeing your determination, your drive, you were doing this to help humanity- what a soft heart you have- he wanted that beautiful heart just for himself, but there was only one person standing between you two, and you were determined to keep him safe. Hades did enjoy a good challenge.

-Hermes- You hid behind your partner, a look of disgust on your face as Hermes stared at you with hearts in his eyes, looking as if you hung the stars in the skies for him and him alone. He was one of your suitors that liked it when you talked down to him, finding it alluring, he wanted to serve you- he wanted to be your slave, and he was willing to give you everything, if you would only become his. Your partner lifted his double ended scythe, “I’ll keep you safe, Y/N!” Hermes instantly glared, looking darkly at your partner, seeing him as unworthy to be by your side- he needed to fix that.

-Poseidon- Your stubbornness was admirable, as he saw your constant rejections as a test, to make sure that he was really interested in you or if he would leave when the next beauty walked on by. He had proven himself to you multiple times, only wanting you- as only you were worthy enough to be his queen, however, you continued to refuse him, like you didn’t trust him! Poseidon believed himself a patient man, especially with you- but his patience was beginning to wane, finding your actions childish, and he wanted you to hurry up and just say yes! Seeing you touch another man, especially a human, Poseidon saw red, fury filling his veins. You were going to be his- he just needed to deal with this human you were with.

[wambsgansshoelaces]

Turmoil; Chapter 1

Roman Roy x fem!Reader -read the rest here!

Prompt: slowburn romantic drama, arranged marriage plot line

a/n: thank you to anon for requesting! if you requested this fic, please tell me so I can tag you! I apologize if this reads as unrealistic or too dramatic- but please let me know your thoughts!

Word Count: 2.358k

Nothing. You’d turned yourself into something from nothing.

You’d ended up in New York on your own, running from your past, vying for a fresh start. With a degree from Harvard law in your pocket and an unsatiated hunger for success, it only took one case to change your fortune.

Your boss had pawned the case off on you because it seemed impossible. A man charged for real property fraud, and heaps of evidence to prove it. You initially thought you’d pawn the case off to some other schmuck, until you’d been given an anonymous tip and found a discrepancy in a bit of evidence that unraveled the opposition’s entire case.

It was a massive win- not just for you, but for your entire firm -and it came with a massive raise.

A few years later, you’d amassed an egregious amount of money in total and even more respect from those around you, so you quit and founded your own firm. You’re thankful for everything you have. You stay humble, you’re likable, and you make sure everyone in your employment is as well. It keeps you afloat- New York loves you, but more importantly, they trust you.

It earns you millions.

You’re happy with the life you lead. You frequent charity events, donating whenever you can, staying kind. You know what kindness can feel like during a period of misery. You remember what relief felt like when extended a hand, so you extend yours whenever you can.

You help the people around you. You’re kind to everyone, conduct yourself with grace, and are aware of yourself and those around you.

Maybe that’s why Logan Roy chose you.

He’d written to you a week ago, inviting you to dinner to discuss business prospects. You assume he’s gotten himself into a legal pickle involving some of his questionable activity which some regard as criminal.

When you enter the restaurant, one of his men spawn at your side and lead you into the dimly lit back where nobody is sitting. Your heels click on the marble, your gait not wavering.

“Mr. Roy,” you say when you see him. He gets up, albeit very slowly, and shakes your hand.

“Y/L/N in the flesh.” He sits back down and gestures to the seat across from him. You oblige. “You’ve made quite the name for yourself.”

“I do my best.”

He beckons over a passing waiter. “Get her whatever she wants. Put it on my tab.”

You quietly order a small appetizer and watch him watch you.

“Well, Mr. Roy, I hate beating around the bush. Why am I here?”

“The first case you worked on. Do you remember that man’s name? The one you proved innocent?”

“Connor Frost. I don’t forget. Never showed his face once.”

“About him. For witness protection and press reasons, we were allowed to alter his name in the official papers. We also got away with him never being there.”

Your heart misses a beat.

“Connor Roy was on trial for real property fraud, and you proved him innocent,” he continues. You school your face into neutrality. You get a sick feeling in your stomach that won’t stop growing and gnawing at you. It threatens to eat you inside out. “I hate to burst your bubble, but he was guilty. Fucking stupid, it was.”

You blink. “I don’t mean any disrespect, but-”

Logan’s eyes never leave yours. “But nothing. The deed you found in Connor’s name? Forged. And the people who forged it were paid more than enough to never think of speaking about it in court. You couldn’t have known it was fake, so you took it to trial and won. I practically bankrolled that raise of yours.” You can feel yourself begin to itch. “Initially, there was never any need to tell you. If I had things my way, I’d have let you live your life doing whatever the fuck you wanted. But my son had other plans.” As if he didn’t just reveal that your first case was a joke, he offers you some wine. You quickly decline. You feel like you’re going to puke all over him.

“Kendall. You know Kendall.” His voice drips with venom. “Would’ve given everything to him, but he obviously has different ideas for the company. I can’t let him take it now. He’ll fuck up everything I’ve worked for and put into place at Waystar. And I’m not giving the company to the idiot who accidentally committed fraud to the point of felony, or the one who’s running around the world with her dumb fucking political bullshit. That leaves me with one son. So the company has to go to him.”

Logan tops off his glass of wine. “But, by God’s grace, this leftover son is the fucking stupidest of them all.”

You have no idea how this has anything to do with you.

“Let me be clear, Miss Y/L/N. I respect you. You’re a fantastic attorney. I’d have you on retainer- I will, once my current contract with that Frederica jackass runs out. But you must forgive me for all of this. I have to do what needs to be done.”

He inhales, then sighs. “For you to take control without me losing public face, I want you and my son to come to an agreement in a partnership.”

You have to give him the dumbest fucking look for him to respond with, “Marry him. I need you to marry him.”

“I’m sorry?” You can barely keep your composure. You think you’re dreaming, or someone spiked your water, or you’re dead, or anything but this.

“I can’t have him in control. I can pretend like he is, sure, but I need someone with a brain at the helm.”

“I… my degree is in criminal law. I have no idea how the corporate, let alone financial world runs.” It’s all you can think of to say.

He waves you off. “You’ll learn.”

You don’t know what to say. You probably look like a fish, mouth hung open as you gape at him. “Surely someone else is better suited to this than me. I won’t. I can’t.”

“This is why I had to apologize,” he mutters. “Do as I say, and our secret is kept. Walk away, the tabloids will learn of a little lady who buried and forged evidence to win her first court case.”

“You can’t be serious. I thought it was real!”

“The public doesn’t know that. Regardless, I’ve done worse. I’ve ruined stronger, more powerful people with much less.”

You press your lips into a thin line. “I suppose you’ve left me with no choice,” you grit out.

Logan smiles and claps his hands together. “Welcome to the family.” Your appetizer finally comes and is set in front of you. You don’t feel that hungry anymore. “What are you waiting for? Eat!”

He takes a bit of calamari from you. “I think it goes without saying,” he says, “that if you say anything about this conversation we’ve had, you’ll end up prosecuted and in jail for fraud.”

☾𖤓

You feel like you could punch a hole into the wall. You can’t believe it. It’s pure dumb fucking luck that you got caught in this.

Logan Roy didn’t choose you for your legal prowess, or any of your skill or ability like you’d stupidly believed. He chose you because he has control over you, and he knows it.

A few days pass, and you begrudgingly drag yourself out of your rotting place in bed. Cursing yourself the entire time, you change into something nice. Logan told you he was throwing a party in your name, to introduce you to the family- and the inner circle, you knew.

If anything, you think to yourself, you look fucking good.

You’re not prepared for the onslaught of paparazzi that bombards you the moment you step out of the house.

That bastard must’ve told the press about your engagement.

There’s nothing you can do but get into the black sedan waiting for you at the bottom of your driveway. You’re probably going to have to move, now.

You sit in the backseat, simmering the entire drive. You have to prepare yourself for the hell that’ll be stiff arming paparazzi to get to the party.

When you pull up, you take a deep breath, and step out the car. The man sitting in the passenger seat got out before you and walks out in front of you, another flanking you as you push through the chaos.

The flashes are almost blinding, but you keep your eyes open. Every picture taken tonight is going to be circulated tenfold by not even tomorrow morning. You hope you have resting bitch face in all of them.

Your miniature guard manages to get you inside with no issues. You’re late on purpose, and it seems like the room goes quiet when you enter.

The crowd stares back at you as you survey them. As much as your rage is telling you to make a scene, you won’t. Time and place, you tell yourself.

Immediately, you can tell Connor recognizes you. He tries to avoid your gaze, but your rage bubbles up and out of you. “Mind if I steal him for chat?” you ask the girl standing with him, voice painfully faux-sweet. You feel like you’re on Love Island, in some sick, twisted way.

The girl gives Connor an awkward pat on the arm before leaving him be. You can feel peoples’ eyes burning into the back of your head.

“You told me,” you begin, voice dangerously low, “that you didn’t do it.”

He looks everywhere but at you. “I was just doing what I had to.”

“Was fucking me over what you had to do? Because I feel like that’s all you did,” you hiss.

“Do you really think someone like me is going to ever go to jail?” Connor scoffs. “It could damage my reputation.”

“It could damage my reputation,” you mock. “Are you fucking stupid? Fucking God.”

You turn to leave, but immediately pivot back. “You’re a Roy. You would’ve been bailed out immediately. You wouldn’t have even gone to jail for an hour.”

You’re fuming. You’re barely holding it together.

Then, you catch the eyes of a man not that much taller than you, dressed in all crisp black. He’s handsome, you think, a light stubble dotting his jaw and soft eyes that wrinkle gently when he smiles.

He excuses himself from the conversation he’s having to come to you and Connor.

“Connor. You’ve met my lovely bride-to-be?”

You’re back to fuming, any thoughts of his beauty gone.

He sticks his hand out to you. “Roman Roy. Nice to meet you, I’m your fiancé.” His voice is painfully bitter.

“You think I want this any more than you do?” you ask under your breath, your handshake way too firm. His grip on your hand is equally as tight.

Connor snorts. “At least act like you like each other.”

“You’re the reason any of this happened. Keep yourself out of it,” you snap.

Roman sighs and turns away from Connor. “Can we go for a walk? We should probably have a word.” To your dismay, you agree.

As soon as you’re out of the main atrium and by yourselves in a grand hallway, you speak freely. “Listen, this is nothing personal,” you begin, “but I’m looking for a way out of this.”

Roman looks over at you as you walk, both of you going at a snail’s pace. “I don’t stink, do I?” He sticks his hands in his pockets. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry this happened to you. I know he’s blackmailing you.”

You sigh. “I should’ve known something was wrong with the case when I never saw my fucking client in person.”

“Well, I want this over as quickly as you do. My father doesn’t want me anywhere near the company, and I’d like to change that.” You both stop walking to face each other. Maybe you two can be friends, despite everything.

“Let me make something clear, though.” Roman takes a step towards you, leaning forward to whisper in your ear. “I’m only in this for me. Not you.”

Whatever positive thoughts you’d had were chased away. You spend the rest of the night fuming under your skin, lying through your teeth, and standing by yourself in the corner.

Siobhan Roy is the first to approach you.

“I admire you, you know.”

“Your father said that too, and look where I am now.”

She presses a flute of champagne into your hand. “I’m not my father.” You share a tense look. “Listen. I think we can do something good together,” she says lowly. “You want to disentangle yourself from this situation, and I want my father out of the picture when it comes to Waystar. Some of my clients have used your firm during political scandal. They all came away unscathed… I have full trust in your ability.”

“What do you want from me?”

“When the time comes,” Siobhan says, “I want you to help take my father to court. And put him down under. So to speak,” she adds. “And I’ll help make sure that if my father ever says anything about you, nobody believes it.”

After Siobhan, it’s Kendall.

“Shiv talked to you.” He’s worse at keeping conversation than she is. “I would also be involved in this. I’d take my dad’s place as CEO, Roman becomes COO.”

“I take him to court, I’m told.”

“Yeah. Yeah, you do, and you win,” he says carefully. “And then you get so much money you can run away to some foreign country and forget any of this happened.”

You regard him carefully. “How can I trust you? Or Siobhan? Or anyone in this fucking place?”

Kendall pauses, and takes a moment to think. “You can’t,” is all he says before leaving you standing on your own once again.

Finally, Roman makes his way back to you. You bristle as you watch him approach. “I know you don’t really like me right now, but I want to go home and I can’t leave without you on my arm. So, shall we?”

You roll your eyes, but take his elbow anyway.

[tokiwarcube]

The Bad Kind

Pickles hates his family, and everything to do with them… but there’s still that small piece of him that holds out hope for a normal life — for some modicum of love to be tossed his way. So maybe it isn’t weird that he’s attending this way-too-expensive wedding party… but what is weird is how chummy his mom is being with you.

Or, in which Pickles throws hands after Seth tries to get a little too friendly with you.

Pickles/Reader (GN) (Established relationship.)

Warnings: Seth. Nonconsensual touching (above belt)/sexual harassment, canon-typical violence. Happy ending, 3.1k. Enjoy!

He’s gonna pass out if he keeps breathing like this.

If Pickles had it his way, he'd never see his family again. It took a lot of work, and even more drugs, to forget the bulk of his childhood memories. And truthfully, few things would make him happier than to forget the rest of them, too. Just throw them away, leave them in the dark, and let him live. But try as he might, the past always has a way of clawing its way to the forefront of his mind, and into his life. Like right now.

His leg bounces rapidly from his seat at the edge of the ballroom, arms crossed over his chest as he picks incessantly at his cuticles. Seats flush against the wall, this small area has been your one place of refuge for the night. The rest of your small group had separated early, with most of the boys presumably wandering over to raid the bar and buffet, although from where you’re sitting, you can’t quite tell if they’ve stayed there or not. It's only once you reach out to take his hand in yours, smoothing over the blossoming red lines with your own gentle touch that he halts his movements. He turns to look at you then, finally tearing his eyes away from the crowd, gritting his teeth and pressing his mouth into a flat line. It’s a strained smile, but it’s something, at least.

You’re sure he’d burn this whole venue down if you weren’t in it right now.

"Inhaler?" You mouth.

He nods in turn, patting his pocket for emphasis, before interlocking his fingers with yours. He taps repeatedly, turning your hand this way and that as his eyes rake over the crowd, searching. You should be thankful that he’s staying seated, you suppose. Last time his parents guilted him into coming to one of these events — all hosted on his dime, mind you — he couldn’t help vying for some sort of attention and support from his mother, and the damage her umpteenth rejection left lasted far longer than you’d like to remember.

You lean into him, keeping your voice low: “You sure you don’t want to leave, hun?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.”

He very clearly isn’t, but you know well-enough that dragging him out of here right now would only make things worse — no matter how badly you want to leave. You hum, cupping the other side of his face with your free hand and press a kiss to his jawline.“Well, just let me know, okay?”

His lips upturn a fraction then, and he tears his eyes away from the crowd again to place a proper kiss to your lips. You smile softly as you pull away, and your mouth has just parted to distract him with some conversation — he had fallen asleep during your shitty little movie marathon last night, and you weren’t going to let him off the hook that easily about it — but before you can speak you’re interrupted by the click of heels on porcelain tile, and a harping voice that has you stiffening.

All things considered, time has treated Molly rather well — your lover had to have gotten his looks from somewhere, you suppose, and she’s contributed her half well enough. Although you doubt she would ever let you see her in any other state, judging by the expertly layered wine-red box dye. You absently wonder if the dye job was on Pickles’ paycheck as well. His grip tightens on your hand as she approaches, and you can feel the warmth leave his body almost instantaneously as she comes to a standstill in front of the two of you.

Her gaze is piercing, and all at once he feels like a child again -- punished for crimes far too severe for his small hands to commit.

"Pickles, I was wondering when you would show up." Her voice is uncharacteristically chipper, but it lacks an element of invitation. She turns to you then, and when you lock eyes with her, her pinked lips turn upward, although this too lacks something critical.

“And it’s so good to see you again, too.” Your name rolls off her lips with ease, and your eyebrows bounce in surprise. “I hope my son hasn’t been giving you too much trouble at work? I mean really, with all the work that you do…”

Frankly, you hadn’t expected her to remember you at all — your first (and last) interaction could hardly even classed as a “meeting,” with how quickly it had ended. Vague memories of tequila and flashing lights — the faint recollection a firm handshake as you introduced yourself as his partner glimmers somewhere in the back of your mind — before being pulled away by a clamoring crowd. The memories are a bit fuzzy with all of the commotion — one of the boys had thrown hands with a waiter during the annual (mandatory) Christmas get-together, and after that, everything beyond getting the hell out of there was irrelevant. You can’t quite recall if you had ever told her exactly what you do for Dethklok, but you chalk it up to the trace alcohol that was in your system at the time.

“No, uh,” you stumble, “Things have been going great, actually. Smooth sailing, always a blessing to do what I love for a living.”

Her eyes crinkle at your reaction, laughing politely. She swirls her wine around in her glass absently, eyes trained on you. Pickles’ brow furrows in your peripherals, and you’d be lying if something didn’t feel off.

“Mom—”

“Now, don’t be modest dear,” she extends her hand towards you, manicured nails glimmering in the white light of the venue, “I’m sure it must be hard, corralling all of those boys. You really must have your work cut out for you!”

“Ah, really, they’re not much trouble at all.” You squeeze Pickles’ hand affectionately, dragging your thumb across his index. Her refusal to acknowledge her son isn’t lost on you. “Plus, it’s nice being able to make art with my boyfriend. It’s a good gig.” You titter out a soft laugh of your own, to be polite — don’t cause a scene.

She hums, sipping her wine. That seems to be the extent of her acknowledgement, however.

“Really, your work is incredible. Sure, it might not be my cup of tea…” She pauses then, tilting her head to the side. “But it’s good. Very good. I’d love to hear more about your process over a glass. Do you drink wine?” She shows you teeth then, eyes darting between your hand and her own.

“Ah, not—”

“Babe,” Pickles squeezes your hand, patting the top fondly before shooting a soft smile at you, “It’s fine, go have fun.”

There’s a glimmer of hope in his eyes when he says it, and this is quite frankly the opposite of fun to you — especially with the growing unease brewing in your stomach at her insistent gaze — but with a look like that, you find it hard to say no. You wonder if this is the most amiably she’s acknowledged him in recent years, and it’s that exact thought that pushes you to your feet. Maybe you can slip in a good word or two.

You smile back at him, drawing your hand from his hold to cup his face — beard scratching fondly against your hand — and press a kiss to his cheek. “Yeah? Alright hun, let me know if you need anything, okay?”

And with that you’re taking his mother’s hand, and letting her drag you across the room. It’s a bit too pristine and white for your tastes — white marble walls melt into the ground, creating a strange sort of homogeneity that, even with the towering pillars that intersperse the room, make the expensive sight rather… bland, visually. You move through the crowd towards the small bar at the front, talking all the while about the newest album and your contributions — the crowd is larger than you would have thought for Pickles’ family, although to be fair, he couldn’t remember whose wedding he was paying for this time, so you suppose they could have simply been one of the more tolerable extended members. The boys are nowhere to be found, surprisingly — you absently wonder if there’s another bar in the building, or if they’ve simply fucked off to cause mischief elsewhere.

She hails the bartender, signalling for another glass of her own drink as you speak. And for what it’s worth, you are engrossed in your conversation — you swirl the wine in your glass, watching the dark drink cradle the glass again and again as you walk her through the creative process. She nods, humming politely with a sip from her glass every now and again, occasionally casting a look towards your untouched glass. You have half the mind to offer it to her with how she’s staring it down — you wouldn’t miss it, really.

“Well, that is quite a bit of work, now isn’t it?” She smiles at you again, and that growing unease returns once again.

“You know, my son Seth is getting into the music business too. I’m sure he’d appreciate any pointers you have.” Her eyes look past you for a moment, brightening sincerely for the first time tonight as she rises from her seat. You follow her movements as she walks past you, and you feel your stomach sink when you see where she’s pacing off to.

Or, more accurately, to whom.

“You two will have so much to talk about, I bet you'll get along just perfect."

Seth trades places with her, and you feel your stomach sink. Of course she has ulterior motives. You’re being used as a business consultant. You sigh internally, forcing a smile onto your face when your eyes lock. The smarmy grin on his face leaves a growing pit of disgust in your stomach, and you realize that this has absolutely been the plan from the beginning. Fucker. You sigh to yourself, gritting your teeth: All you’ve gotta do is give him some vague pointers, you tell yourself — nothing you haven’t done before.

It’s easy to get along with someone when you can’t get a word in, edge-wise.

You sip at the wine absently, letting your eyes unfocus as he rambles at you — it isn’t a particularly good wine, certainly not the exact drink you would have chosen — although to be fair, if you knew you were going to be listening to Seth talk for the rest of the night, you would have chosen something stronger.

“It’s gonna be great, I know it—”

Like absinthe.

“— I’ve got a producer lined up to work with us and everything—”

Or Everclear.

“—We’re only missing a few people in this whole thing—”

Hell, you’d do a shot of lead-radiator moonshine, if it would put you out of your fucking misery. Maybe you’d go blind, so you wouldn’t have to look at him anymore. You don’t think bad moonshine could make you go deaf, which really would be the ultimate reprieve right now, but you’d be damned if you wouldn’t give it a shot, anyways. You hum absently, letting your eyes roam the wall behind him in search of a clock, but no cigar. You feel like you’ve been here for a fucking century.

“—and it's like, I get it, the money must drive you crazy. But listen, you and me, we could really do something. A babe like you would drive sales crazy—”

Hold on.

You blink back into focus and furrow your brow at his words, pausing at you bring your glass back down to the table.

“I’m sorry?” You can’t help the incredulity that bleeds into your voice, but he seems to misconstrue your offense as something else entirely.

"I mean it, you're gorgeous. You could do so much more than this… thing, you’ve got going on with my brother." he leans forward into your personal space, "You've just gotta let me work my magic."

You feel the bubbles of anger rising in your throat, but you quickly shove it down. Don’t cause a scene, you repeat to yourself. You grit your teeth and force a tight-lipped smile onto your face.

"I'm not sure what you're implying," you force, "but I'm perfectly happy where I am, thank you."

You pat the top of the bar, signaling the end to your conversation, before rising to your feet. It’s not worth causing a scene over a shitty sales pitch, or bad flirting. You polish off your glass in a final sip, tossing a $20 onto the granite top before moving to stride past Seth; only, you don’t.

“Come on, babe,” His hand lands on your bicep, pressing you back gently towards the seat. But you don’t budge, pulling your upper body away from him further. The nickname, ordinarily sparking such sweet feelings in your chest when spoken from the lips of your lover, sounds repugnant in Seth’s mouth. But worse than that is his touch — the unwanted contact, however brief it might have been, makes your skin crawl. You take a step back, looking to put some distance between you two.

“Don’t touch me, thanks.” You keep your voice steady despite the repulsion, and even as anger and anxiety begins to take over when he rises from his seat to follow you. You know he’s not going to do shit in a public space like this, but that doesn’t help to assuage the nervousness brewing in you. You step back again, trying to make distance and filter into the crowd, but he mirrors the movement.

“Listen—” he starts as he reaches forward -- to touch your arm? Your hair? You can't be sure, because as you step back to dodge his advance again, Pickles appears seemingly out of nowhere.

You hear the crack of fist on jaw more than you see it, and the sound of shattering glass follows just after. The people at the bar flee from the scene in a panic as Seth’s back meets the granite where you had just been, but he doesn’t have time to strike back at Pickles as the smaller man’s fist meets his face. Crunching cartilage gives way to a sudden cacophony of shrieking, and you’re shoved harshly in the panic, with only brief snippits of words filtering through it all.

"Don't fucking touch them!"

"Get off of him!"

"Oh, fuck you!"

You stumble, pushing yourself forward as you right your footing. A circle has opened up around the two of them, and with rapidly darting eyes, you see Molly on the edge of the ring — face as red as her hair as she screams something you can’t quite make out, but it's then that you see his father stomping his way through the crowd on the other side, and you leap back into action.

Pickles has his fists curled in the front of Seth's dress shirt, pressing him flush against the bartop, and he seems torn between hitting him again and simply throttling him — although with the blood pooling from the latter's nose and mouth, you suspect he’s gotten more than a few good hits in already. It’ll have to do.

“Babe, we’ve gotta fucking bail.”

Calvert’s shoes sound like gunshots on the marble flooring as he stomps towards the three of you, and you don’t know what the fuck he thinks he’s gonna do, but that’s exactly when you decide to simply hook your arms under Pickles’, pulling him off his brother. He’s about to duck in for another hit, but your insistent tugging combined with the head tilt you give to signal that it’s time to fucking leave is enough to get him to let up.

His breathing is labored — he put his inhaler in his pocket this morning, you’re certain, — and you all but drag him through the crowd the second he nods back at you.

Clutched pearls, wide eyes, and parted mouths — the faces in the crowd blur into a smear of shock and fear, stoked further by the frightened whispers that seem to choke the room. But you don't spare the time to bask in the tension, parting the crowd with a determined stride, and before you know it the cool night air kisses your skin.

You vaguely hear the rest of the guys follow you out the door — where the hell they were for all of this would be a question for the next day— but the two of you don’t stop running until you reach the car.

A breathy giggle escapes you as you bounce into the velvet interior, and you realize at some point in your scramble you had lost a shoe to the night. You stretch yourself into the corner space of the limousine, holding your hands out towards Pickles.

He pants, stopping just before the lip of the door, bowing with his hands on his knees.

“Jesus Christ,” he pants, “Hold on, just gi- give me a second.”

You laugh, leaning forward to pull him in. “You can breathe better sitting, you know.”

He makes some sort of unintelligible noise, glancing up before taking your offered hands.

“I’m not made for running,” he says, dropping into your arms. He catches his breath for a few minutes — left pocket has inhaler, you remember, although he never pulls for it. His breathing evens out slowly, and once he’s capable of speaking again, he pulls back to look at you. His brows are knitted in concern, hands coming to cradle your biceps.

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you at all?”

You loop your arms over his shoulders, dragging the blunt of your nails along the back of his neck fondly. Maybe you should be more rattled — maybe you’ll crash in a little bit once the adrenaline high of the past few minutes comes down — but with the lightness in your chest, you suspect you’ll be okay. The feel of him on your biceps, and not the vile hands of moments ago, soothes over the residual anxiety. You smile, squishing his face between your fingers and placing a kiss to his pouting lips.

“Call me babe?”

He furrows his brow, searching your eyes for something, before murmuring a quiet “babe?” through your grip on his cheeks.

You laugh to yourself, grinning wide. Yeah, you’ll be fine. You place another kiss to his lips and return your hand to its home around his shoulders, gazing at him fondly.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. I think I should have got to hit him at least once, though.”

Laughter filters through the limo as he relaxes in your hold, and that’s when you know that he’ll be okay, too.

“He’s a little freak, Pickles.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“The bad kind.”

“Yeah dude, I know.”

[butterfly-indulgence]

[REDACTED] with an Idol!Angel 

aka [REDACTED] being nasty on main.

CW: Parasocial behavior, obsessive behavior, stalking, mentions of online bullying/harassment ([REDACTED]'s an expert in canceling someone)

As a (crazy) fan:

SFW

[REDACTED] is your biggest fan. And no, that is not an exaggeration. From his perfect attendance to all your lives and events to making several shrines dedicated to you, no one has them beat. 

When I say shrine, I don't mean just a small corner in their apartment. We're talking about rooms filled with your merch, such as your post cards, autographs, posters, plushies, pins… he has it all. 

They're very well-known throughout the online community. Other fans always see him on your posts and if you take a look at their profile, all you would see are posts relating to you and his "delulu moments" (screaming, keysmashing, reaction images and just general lovemailing). You're his star, his precious angel, and you always will be. You shine the brightest in their eyes.

[REDACTED] has bought all of your albums too. His music player is filled with your songs, and he's the type of person to blast it at 3 am while he's hacking. He's the only one living on one of the floors of his apartment building, so he's not disturbing anyone, is he? Either way, what's anyone gonna do? Arrest him? Good luck. He gets away with worse crimes than disturbing the peace.

Your love songs are his favorite. They make him feel giddy inside (and a bit sad. He wishes you were there to sing those sweet words to him face-to-face.)

Branching off from that, you bet he's buying voice packs. They get to hear your lovely voice? All the time if theywanted to? Just take their money.

He's been your fan ever since you debuted and he's very proud of his perfect attendance to all your lives and events. He always has front row seats, and he goes to the events ridiculously early. He's always the first one in line. Other hardcore fans know him and even asked him to join their fan club once. Which he declined. He doesn't want to watch other people gush and fantasize about his angel. The thought of thousands of people vying for your love already makes his blood boil.

You will inevitably recognize [REDACTED] due to their constant presence in events. Seeing someone with so much love and dedication is enough to warm your heart, so you make sure to thank him and give him some extra fanservice. If [REDACTED] didn't have any self control, he might have collapsed then and there. (God they want to hug you and kiss you and spoil you and treat you well and marry you and-)

Many people in the fan community jokingly label them as "that insane angel simp", but they have no idea just how far [REDACTED] is willing to go for you. He can easily obtain any type of information he wants so naturally, he knows where you live. He already set up hidden cameras in your home too. He loves watching you through the cameras; it's one of his favorite past times because he sees the real you. The real angel behind the flawless idol persona. He knows your likes, your dislikes (and he often finds out that the information you give out during interviews are mostly lies; you tend to choose quirky or unique answers instead of your real preferences - oh, you don't like this particular food? But Angel, you look so happy eating it at home after your concert <3), your hobbies, and little habits that even you don't seem to notice. What he doesn't like is when you collapse on your bed after a long day and just… cry. He hates seeing you in pain and wants to comfort you during your saddest moments, but he can't, so he directs his attention elsewhere to give you some privacy. Expect a gift and a fanmail filled with love and support in the next few days. It's his way of cheering you up.

[REDACTED] is one of those brutal fans that would attack anyone who sends you any hate or attempts to destroy your reputation. He has tons of burner accounts at his disposal, and he's not afraid of using them to bully, harass and threaten your haters. He won't stop until their online presence disappears completely. It's why your fan community is so peaceful. Because [REDACTED] shuts the haters up quickly.

[REDACTED] is perhaps your most dangerous stalker… but they're a great repellant for other potentially dangerous people. (A blessing or a curse. View it however you want.) As mentioned above, haters will not touch you, and your information will be under [REDACTED]'s lock and key. Personal information like your address? No one will be able to dig it up no matter how hard they try. Do you have a past controversy you desperately want buried? Consider the evidence deleted. Due to him pulling the strings behind the scenes, in the eyes of the public, you really are just a pure and wholesome person with nothing to stain your name.

NSFW

[REDACTED] indulges himself a lot with fantasies of you. Just the thought of you is enough to get him going, really. Because of the cameras they put all over your home, they have a full view of your most private moments, especially when you're pleasuring yourself on your bed. It's thrilling how he gets to watch you do something so 'unpure', unbefitting of the idol image you carefully crafted. He would definitely stroke himself while watching you, moaning your name as their pleasure builds up. (Though if he hears you moan someone's name, expect [REDACTED] to do some research… and maybe pay the person a visit later.)

If [REDACTED] ever got to fuck you in your idol costume, he thinks his soul might just ascend to heaven (or descend to hell. Whatever.) It gets their possessive streak going. Your pretty lips, spouting words of love on stage while behind closed doors, your attention is all on him? You're giving him genuine words of love through your hazy mind with a blissed out expression on your face? He's done for.

He also masturbates using your pictures, and by the end, they would be crumpled up and stained. Honestly though? His room is heavily decorated with your merch so he can just grab something random off his shelves and he would still get off on it. 

[REDACTED] can get pretty creative when he's going into the woohoo zone and he has several toys he uses often. You're not there (and maybe you never will be), so he has to make something work. 

[thefanficmonster]

please please please write something for Mickey altieri I love him sm

You know I love Mr. Altieri and I'm always happy to write for him 😉 Hope you enjoy this set of headcanons darling 💕

~ Lots of love, Vy 💌

Mickey Altieri having a crush on you in college would include:

You told yourself you wouldn't date in college - for many reasons

Obviously, piles of schoolwork and many hours of studying awaited you and you couldn't imagine yourself forfeiting your future and neglecting all that work for a significant other

But also the upcoming four years are exactly the years meant for being wild and you couldn't afford missing out on any of that due to a commitment to another person

But at this point life had rudely taught you that things rarely go as you hope and plan them to

One of the variables you didn't factor into your planning was Mickey fucking Altieri

The sleek bastard

You'd caught his eye from day one - orientation day, to be exact

He was very fond to see you in his film class and with a bit of asking around he found out you too are a film major

He wasted no time pulling out every flirting trick he can ever remember working on you

All to be dismissed and rejected each and every time

But he's a persistent man, well aware of his charm and charisma

"I'm not your type, I get it. How about we start over? Friends?"

"In your dreams, Altieri." You roll your eyes at his poorly disguised attempt at poking through your guard

"How come you know my last name?"

Your eyes widen before you can stop them

You've just exposed your own snooping agenda

You'd be lying if you said you didn't conduct your own research on this man

Sure, he's attractive, fun to be around, charismatic - magnetic, almost

And, contrary to his claim, just your type

But you refuse to give in

That is until you realize that giving him a chance doesn't automatically mean establishing a relationship

Rather a dynamic

One with the potential to be quite fun and exciting at best

Interesting and eventful at worst

So, when he tries one more time, offering you nothing more than his company to a sorority party

You shock him by agreeing, retorting with a time at which you required him to pick you up from your dorm building

And pick you up he does

You roll your eyes at the corny gesture of a bouquet - or the sorry excuse for one he'd picked up on his way across campus

Still, you can't help but find it endearing

"I knew you'd like me eventually" he is getting cocky, reaching even, but as long as he's able to get a laugh out of you he's satisfied

"Don't hold your breath. I just wanted to go to a party."

"Yeah but you could've gone with anyone else. Just admit you like me, hell won't freeze over."

You narrow your eyes at him a part of you regretting the decision to accept his offer while another corner of your brain is looking forward to the evening the two of you are about to have

"Over my dead body"

Little do you know, he could easily get that arranged

But he'd never do that, not to you anyway

"Ten bucks says they disappear to make out an hour into the party." Hallie says, peering over at Sidney as the two observe their friend meet up for something they adamantly claimed wasn't a date

"You're on." Sid agrees, both girls giggling as they get back to getting ready for the party

A party you and Mickey disappear from about forty-five minutes in, earning Hallie ten dollars

The rest is history - history filled with Mickey poking fun at how quickly your resolve crumbled

Because now, four months later, you're celebrating three months of officially dating

This is one of those rare occasions when life works out a lot better than you'd originally planned it

Some things are better off unplanned

The best things in life come as a surprise, after all

[jeewrites]

Hold Fast | Ch. 2 SBD & Cinnamon Rolls

Series Master List

Rating: M for language, but this blog is 18+ MDNI

Summary: Frankie works out at Pope's Gym with his bff Pope

A/N: Happy Frankie Friday! Bit of backstory about reader, Frankie gets a glimpse into reader's powerlifting world, meet some OCs. And as always, thank you to my beta @bloviating-vy, although I messed with it later so all errors are my own, lol.

Word Count: 3.7k

Tags: no y/n, reader gets a nickname, swearing, yelling, discussion about food, reader is a powerlifting girlie in her late 30's described as short and she has hair long enough to put into a ponytail, Tom is alive unfortunately (we hate Tom), Tom owns a bar called Redfly's, Pope owns a gym, reader's mother is a menace, an OC is fatphobic, some Frankie POV

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One of the hobbies you picked up after you broke up with your fiancé — ex-fiancé — was baking. Chase always complained that everything you cooked or baked made him fat. You both shared a sweet tooth, but he was adamant about keeping the house sweets-free, fat-free, fun-free. Christ, he had gotten so militant about so many things. So fucking suffocating.

He didn't start out this way when you first met in college. He was sweet and driven, focused on getting into medical school, like you were. Your first real relationship. But somewhere between medical school, residency, and supporting him through his fellowship, he became increasingly neurotic and controlling. He started yelling, first about things, then at you. Why can't you do anything right? Why are you friends with her? Who is he? Why are you texting him? Why do you act like a child? You're going to wear that? That outfit makes you look like a whore. He started bragging about what a big bad surgeon he was going to be and how lucky you were to be with him. The larger his ego grew, the smaller you felt. It took you too long to realize the college boy you fell for no longer existed.

Now, every Friday night after a long day, you'd go home, throw on some tunes, and bake to decompress from the week. There is something calming and meditative about the process — measuring, mixing, and kneading — resulting in a desired outcome that pleases you, delights you. Sometimes you even liked to get experimental with the flavors from your childhood. You could watch whatever show you wanted while you baked: wholesome comedies to cringe-worthy reality tv, without a judgment to be heard. Peace. You finally had peace.

Despite the long days at the group practice, it was nothing compared to the 80-100 hours a week you'd pull working at the hospital. Did you miss teaching the next crop of residents? Sure, but you love the newfound free time you had to do things for yourself, things that interest you. You needed a break and a break from working in the same building as Chase. The hospital just wasn't big enough.

The hospital rumor mill had cranked into high gear when you caught him sneaking out of a call room with one of the OR nurses, scrubs rumpled, hair mussed. It's like you were living in a fucking episode of Grey's Anatomy. And he had the audacity to raise his voice at you in the middle of the hospital in front of what felt like everyone. You stopped wearing your engagement ring (thank fuck) and Chase started blatantly hooking up with any of the staff that were ready and willing. Of which there were a lot. You were done with the hierarchy of the hospital, placing surgeons at the very top, over-inflating their otherwise fragile egos. You were over the whispered judgements questioning Why would you leave a surgeon? What was wrong with you? Between the long hours and hushed whispers everywhere you went, you wanted — no, needed — a change.

You joined a group practice with some former residency friends across town and moved into a small one bedroom apartment until you could decide what your next steps were. It helped that Pope's Gym was halfway between home and work now, so you settled into a more sustainable routine of working, lifting, and exploring hobbies and interests long neglected since college. And Chase. And more recently, giving the whole online dating thing a spin after over a year of pouring back into yourself, rediscovering who you are now in your late 30's.

Sometimes it felt like going through a second adolescence, rebelling against the expectations Chase and your parents caged you with, to fit their very specific idea of who you should be as a wife first and physician second. Always serving a role, being a pretty object, but never a person. At the first opportunity, you sold the stupid black Audi that Chase had insisted you buy because all of the other physicians owned the same fucking one. He also insisted on an automatic because he couldn't drive stick. Now you zipped to work in that sporty blue WRX STI that you wanted in the first place, windows down, singing loudly and off key to the radio, free as can be.

It still hurt when you ended things, but it hurt a lot less than you thought it would. You realized the end really began when Chase left for his fellowship out of state and you noticed how much happier and free you felt when you were on your own. Why didn't you miss him more? Why didn't you miss him at all?

And yet, it didn't stop you from saying yes when he proposed. A big flashy proposal in front of both your families. You remember feeling frozen like a deer caught in the headlights of a car driven by your mother. Your mother's voice in your ear, You won't do better than a surgeon. Not with your looks. Not with those thighs you inherited from me. So you said yes and floated through the rest of the celebratory evening weighed down by the most obscene diamond ring, smiling and nodding like a robot while you drowned on the inside. Saying and doing exactly what you had been taught to do as the eldest daughter. Appease. Please. Live for everyone else. And don't rock the fucking boat.

Frankie couldn’t remember a Saturday when he had sweated so much. When is Pope going to get a proper A/C system for his gym? It'd been a week since Frankie met you at Redfly's and Pope had finally convinced him to come in for a workout despite his excuse that he had Gabi that weekend. I'm sure your mamá would love to spend some time with her nieta, Pope had pressed.

Which is how Frankie finds himself, curls dripping in sweat, looking up at Pope's crotch as Pope hands off the barbell for him to bench. Fuck, he’s out of shape. And getting old. Pretty sure he could hear both his shoulders creak under whatever weight Pope had shoved onto the bar. He grimaces at how he is going to feel tomorrow.

As he finishes his set and sits up, Frankie catches a blur of lavender and black greeting Benny and beelining to one of the lifting platforms near the entrance of the gym. It was you.

“You can quit starin', Fish, she’ll be here at least 2.5 hours. It’s her SBD Day,” Pope ribs. "You text her about dinner yet?"

"Um…" Frankie pauses before choosing deflection. "Uh, what's SBD?"

"Jesus, Fish, it's been over a week," Pope chides.

"I mean, we've texted a bit," Frankie mumbles, getting up from the bench and turning to face away from you, one hand cupping his neck.

"Squat, bench, deadlift," Pope responds.

"What?"

"That's what SBD stands for," Pope grunts, laying back on the bench to complete his set.

"She's going to do all three in one workout?!"

"She's planning to compete this year, so yeah," Pope unracks the barbell on his own as Frankie just stands there dumbfounded. He was beat just benching with Pope this morning.

He takes another glance in your direction as you wrestle your knee sleeves on and flop dramatically on the ground when you finish. As other members filter around your platform, you greet them like old friends with that warm, beaming smile of yours. Even the perpetually furrowed brow woman doing tire flips in one corner of the gym breaks out a smile when you arrive and wave at her. Frankie had noticed her shirt first, a deep red t-shirt with cut-off sleeves that read "STRONGER IS HARDER TO KILL" in aggressive black text.

He could watch you lift all day. The way you set up for your squat with mechanical precision. Your entire body language changes with a flick of a switch. You could be casually chatting with another person, but as soon as you walk up to the barbell and click your belt in place, you are methodical, intentional, focused. When your hands touch the barbell a streak of aggressive energy swirls around you as you swoop under the barbell and set your feet, left foot, then right. Two deep breaths and brace. A flick of your ponytail over the bar. Back tight against the bar with an assertive lift-off. Right foot back, then left. A brief pause. Then squat. Loading into your lower body with control. High knees. Weight midfoot. Driving up into each rep. Rep after rep. Pause. Re-rack. The switch flicks back when you lever off your belt and you're giggling again about something with someone until your next set. Rinse and repeat. It is fucking hot.

"C'mon Fish, top set," Pope prods, bringing Frankie back from his reverie with a groan. "If you get a move on, maybe we'll finish in time for you to offer your spotting services to her when she gets to her bench."

Frankie hustles.

As he spots Pope for his top set, he notices a toned, blonde man with a garish tan approach you as you stand to do another set. Instead of greeting him with your usual smile you gave everyone else, he sees your entire body tense at the man's approach. Frankie couldn't hear what Blondie is saying to you but you cross your arms, hands gripping your upper arms as you move to the edge of your platform, giving you as much distance as possible from the guy. You shake your head twice to whatever Blondie says.

This guy makes you uncomfortable, Frankie thinks to himself, paying rapt attention to the interaction. He loses himself in thought wondering what the story with Blondie is, if you had dated him before, or...?

Pope's grunt snaps his attention back to his friend as he helps Pope re-rack the bar.

"Who's the guy?" Frankie asks, tilting his head towards your direction. Pope glances over before he shrugs and responds, "His name is Michael? Mike? Kind of a bro."

Mike seems to have finally gotten the hint and stalked off. You stand there for a moment before glancing around the gym wondering if anyone else saw the interaction. Your eyes fell on him and Pope, lighting up before mouthing hi and giving Frankie the sweetest smile and small wave. Frankie felt his cheeks flush as he smiles back and looks down at the weights he had been removing from the bar.

"Fish, why are you taking all the weights off? We still have backdown sets!" Pope rolls his eyes. "Focus, cabrón."

As he and Pope work through the backdown sets that seem to take fucking forever, Frankie keeps a sharp eye out for Blondie in case the man decides to bother you again. Everything seems to have gone back to normal, as you finish your squats and adjust the rack for bench. Frankie notices a sudden shift in the gym's energy. Energy amping up as it seems like everyone is watching you more intently than he is. What the fuck is going on?

"Oh shit, it's time," Pope says, snapping to attention and moves towards you. "Let's go, don't wanna miss out on..."

"I thought we had one more set?" Frankie asks as he follows behind Pope.

"SNACK TIME!" bellows the woman in the aggressive Harder to Kill shirt who now stands next to you.

"Descend like locusts" drifts through your mind as you dig out two enormous Tupperwares of baked goods. Thank God for powerlifters and their appetites, otherwise your co-workers would complain about all the sweets you brought to the office. You didn't need that kind of negativity around such a delicious act of love.

Snack time became gym tradition on SBD Saturdays, usually between squat and bench. This week you made fluffy cinnamon rolls, a batch of regular flavored rolls with a light icing and an experimental batch of ube flavored rolls with delicate coconut icing, making them a delightful purple dressed in white swirls.

"Fuck, these are so good," Pope groans before taking another large chomp out of his purple cinnamon roll.

You see Frankie standing behind Pope, glancing around, bewildered at the crush of powerlifters crowding your platform to grab a treat. You manage to squeeze through the throng of biceps and quads to reach him.

"Saved you half of each," you smile up at him before proffering up your baked treats. He seemed surprised you thought to save him some.

"S'good, so good," he groans between bites. "S'not too sweet either. I really like that."

"That's why we call her Sweets," the furrow-browed woman says as she walks up to you and Frankie. When Frankie gives her a confused look, she explains, "It's the highest praise she gives for dessert, not too sweet."

"Ah yeah, no one really calls me by my name," you explain with a shrug. "Everyone just calls me Sweets, honestly." Frankie nods with comprehension, shoving the rest of the roll into his mouth as if to give himself an excuse to avoid talking.

"Frankie, this is Chloé. Chloé, Frankie," you introduce the two of them. Chloé gives you a meaningful look before grunting a nice to meet you at Frankie. When she gives him an extra firm handshake you inwardly roll your eyes.

The first time you met Chloé, she immediately sized you up, trying to not-so-subtly find out if you were interested in Benny. It made sense since you had just squatted him in front of the whole gym to get him to shut the hell up. It could have been interpreted as a sweet pick-up move (if you thought so yourself, although you hadn't tried it on someone you actually wanted to pick-up, pick-up yet). As soon as you snorted that yes, you thought Benny was hot, but no, absolutely not your type, Chloé released her arched brows and decided you were okay, or at least not mortal enemies. She even offered some valuable insight into the idiosyncrasies of Pope's Gym and its members.

You soon learned that her fierce demeanor and myriad of furrowed expressions ("Yeah, I'm aware. My mom reminds me all the fucking time my face is going to get stuck like this if it hasn't already.") protected her thoughtful, kind, and sweet interior. Her broad shoulders, taut muscles, long single braid down her back, and aggressively worded shirts struck an intimidating image. You won her over once you plied her with snacks you kept in your gym bag. Premium snacks, every powerlifter's dream.

"Why are you sharing the good stuff," she asked, a skeptical arched eyebrow appearing once again.

"Us girlies gotta stick together," you reason. "Plus, who else is going to listen to you gush about Benny's abs?"

You both bonded over training cycles (fuck volume week, you can't count higher than 5 in the gym), training on your cycle (uuuuugh, just gut me now), creative ways to consume enough carbs (you both loved to bake and began swapping recipes at an alarming frequency), Benny's abs, and Pope's ass (dares may have been made to try and bounce a quarter off it). Chloé definitely had an enormous crush on Benny, but adamantly put her foot down when it came to dating anyone from the gym. Not gonna shit where I eat or something like that.

You treasured your friendship Chloé, the way she understood the highs and lows of training, didn't care you were basically a pariah in your family, and didn't give a flying fuck about other people's expectations. When you eventually shared why you moved to this part of town, how you ended up at Pope's Gym, and why you broke off your engagement, she looked you dead in the eye and congratulated you, "Sounds like that was a close call."

It made sense why she is now giving Frankie the once over, although you suspect it would take a lot longer and more than a few choice snacks to get Chloé to view Frankie without reservation. You appreciate how protective she is of you now that you are two peas in a powerlifting gym. Despite her own reservations about dating someone at the gym, she mostly kept her opinions to herself when you had mentioned going to have drinks with Benny's friends, including Pope's best friend.

Of course she was the first one you told the next morning as you warmed up for your workout — how the evening went, how you finally tried literally picking up someone you wanted to pick-up, pick-up, and your surprise when it worked. At the end of the night, Frankie had insisted on walking you to your car where he asked for your number with heat creeping up his neck before getting promptly distracted by your car. Wow, I've always wanted to drive one of these! Did you know they make some of the best rally cars? Oooh and it’s a manual! You may have suggested if he was lucky, you’d take him for a ride one day as you slid into the driver's seat. Before you even got home, your phone pinged with a message from him asking if you'd let him know when you got home safe.

"Just... be careful okay?" Chloé pressed, concern creased across her brows this time. "If Frankie starts working out here because he is the owner's best friend, you're gonna have to deal with some awkward shit if it doesn't work out."

"Good thing I have you as back-up," you teased back, earning you a Chloé shove of annoyed affection.

Frankie knows he's really in trouble now.

Between the glare from the serious looking woman, Chloé, shooting you pointed looks after you introduced the two of them, and the fluffiest, softest, most delectable cinnamon roll he's ever eaten in his life, he's either going to die getting strangled by Chloé when he eventually fucks things up with you or he's going to die of diabetes. Because Christ, you can bake too? How did you get the roll so light and fluffy? And just the perfect level of sweetness? Is that coconut in the icing on the purple cinnamon roll? Frankie loves sweets, but hates things that were so sweet it made his literal teeth hurt. Somehow you had managed the perfect balance of sweet. A fitting nickname, Sweets.

He peers around for the tupperware you brought, hoping a cinnamon roll may have escaped the locust of lifters that had descended just a few moments before, but the box is picked clean. It's then Frankie sees Mike grousing as he picks up and slams the container onto the floor.

"You didn't save one for me, Sweets?" he says, indignant words laced with outrage.

Frankie watches you flinch and move, putting as much space as you can between yourself and Mike.

"Fuck off, Mike." Chloé bites back, stepping in front of you.

"Even the new guy got one?" Mike jerks his head towards Frankie.

Frankie steps forward in line with Chloé and furrows his brows, hands clenching and unclenching. Who the fuck did Mike think he is?

"Yeah, well, I like him more," you push back, voice unsteady, staying partially hidden behind him and Chloé.

"What the FUCK did you just say bi—" Mike snarls, stalking forward just as Pope and Benny come up behind him. Benny clamps both hands on Mike's shoulders, staring daggers into the back of his head.

"Time to take a walk, buddy," Pope instructs, as Benny steers Mike around and marches him in the opposite direction. It takes Frankie a moment to realize he'd also moved, putting himself between Mike and the two of you, ready to protect. He drops his arms before turning back towards you.

Eyes wide, you release a long, shakey exhale and roll your shoulders away from your ears. After a moment you move to slide an arm around him and Chloé. "Thanks for having my back," you say to the ground. He can still feel a slight tremor in your arm before you drop them.

"Mike's such a fucking douchebag," Chloé huffs, glaring in the direction Benny and Pope had gone with Mike to before looking at Frankie with a flicker of appreciation before resuming her usual scowl.

"Wasn't gonna let him touch either of you," Frankie hesitates, "Know you're both strong women that can handle shit, but he's got at least 30 pounds on either of you. Wouldn't be ok just sittin' back if I could do something 'bout it."

Your eyes shift around him, glancing to make sure Mike hadn't suddenly come running back, before looking up at him, eyes still wide, before thanking him again. "Yelling... freaks me out. I — I don't... handle it very well sometimes." Chloé eyes you like she knows a lot more behind what you're talking about.

Frankie's unsure of what to do next. He wants to pull you to him, hold you, promise you you are safe and he won’t ever let Mike or anyone touch a hair on you ever. He longs to soothe the terrified expression off your face, wants to know what else made you so afraid besides what happened today. He isn’t good at many things, but Frankie knows he is built to protect the people he cares about, always making sure all the guys came home to their loved ones, safe. He wants to be the one who cares about you, protects you from anything that could hurt you, even if you are capable of standing up for yourself.

You take a few more slow deep breaths, staring at the entrance of the gym, before tearing off your squat shoes and knee sleeves. A switch flips and you're back to lifting mode, focused and determined, setting up the rack for your bench.

Frankie thinks he catches Chloé rolling her eyes when you shyly ask if he'd stick around and spot you in a few sets. "Absolutely," he breathes, delighted at the excuse to stay near you.

"Look," you continue, all business. "My top set is going to get real grindy, the bar might even come to a total stop, but don't touch the fucking bar unless it goes back down, okay?" you look at him over your shoulder waiting for confirmation before you lie back on the bench.

"Yes, ma'am."

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Notes: nieta = granddaughter; cabrón = asshole

🙏🏽 Thank you for continuing to read! Your comments and reblogs have been giving me lifeeeee! I'm still bad at tumblr and new to tags/warnings, so if I missed something please let me know. Planning to post every other week since I have a lot of travel coming up.

I am open to constructive feedback but please be gentle with this baby powerlifting writer, yeah? I might be able to squat you, but I'm a big ol' softie.

Taglist is open: @katareyoudrilling @christinamadsen @rebel-held @littlemisspascal @burntheedges

[garden-ghoul]

Happy Gushiwensday Shabbes! We have a TREAT for you today, a cryptic and horrible poem by Yang Guang, Emperor Yang! It's titled "Written while visiting Jiangdu."

You seek to return. You cannot go. Look what you've achieved. It's time to face the spring. Each bird trying to scream loudest: drink more wine! The plum blossoms are smiling. Murderers.

Notes and original text under the cut!

幸江都作诗

求归不得去，真成遭个春。 鸟声争劝酒，梅花笑杀人

This poem is SUCH a treat. We were originally enchanted by the image of murderous plum blossoms, and then we realized this poem is actually by an emperor! To quote Wikipedia, "generally considered by traditional historians to be one of the worst tyrants in Chinese history." He allegedly had two poets killed for writing better verses than him, is assumed to have killed his own father, and ordered huge numbers of his own family members executed on trumped-up charges. Reading this poem makes me think he was a deeply unhappy and paranoid person who had the power to make that everyone else's problem. Unfortunately we don't know when it was written, so I can't say if it was when he was in Jiangdu basically in exile shortly before being assassinated, or if it was on one of his previous visits. Let's begin!

visiting --- We originally thought the title of this poem was "Xing Jiangdu writes poetry," because 幸 is only used as a verb when referring to the emperor. A fun fact!

You cannot go --- 去 might be used in the sense of going somewhere, or it might be used in the sense of the past, which is what our vernacular translation seemed to think was going on. I opted to preserve the terse ambiguity of the original text.

Look what you've achieved --- literally "truly victorious" or "truly completed." May be referring back to the previous line---complete as in something that cannot be redone---but also it feels viciously sarcastic.

face the spring --- 遭 is a fantastic character. Literally it means meeting by chance, or a measure for events. But every binome it appears in is like "meeting a dreadful fate" or "suffering a calamity."

trying to scream loudest --- 鸟声争 literally "birds' voices vying." I wanted to convey this image of trees and sky black with birds all calling in this frightening, cacophonous, apocalyptic way.

Murderers --- This is very literal, although the notes on Gushiwen say that 杀 might instead be read as 煞 terminate, squeeze, cut short, or perhaps even "extremely." I opted to forgo grammar because we have very little information on this poem and also it feels dramatically appropriate.

[book--brackets]

The Cemeteries of Amalo by Katherine Addison (2021-present)

When the young half-goblin emperor Maia sought to learn who had set the bombs that killed his father and half-brothers, he turned to an obscure resident of his father’s Court, a Prelate of Ulis and a Witness for the Dead. Thara Celehar found the truth, though it did him no good to discover it. He lost his place as a retainer of his cousin the former Empress, and made far too many enemies among the many factions vying for power in the new Court. The favor of the Emperor is a dangerous coin. 

Now Celehar lives in the city of Amalo, far from the Court though not exactly in exile. He has not escaped from politics, but his position gives him the ability to serve the common people of the city, which is his preference. He lives modestly, but his decency and fundamental honestly will not permit him to live quietly. As a Witness for the Dead, he can, sometimes, speak to the recently dead: see the last thing they saw, know the last thought they had, experience the last thing they felt. It is his duty use that ability to resolve disputes, to ascertain the intent of the dead, to find the killers of the murdered. 

Now Celehar’s skills lead him out of the quiet and into a morass of treachery, murder, and injustice. No matter his own background with the imperial house, Celehar will stand with the commoners, and possibly find a light in the darkness. 

The Children of Green Knowe by Lucy M. Boston (1954-1976)

Tolly's great-grandmother wasn't a witch but both she and her old house, Green Knowe, were full of a very special kind of magic. And Green Knowe turned out not to be the lonely place Tolly had imagined it to be. There were other children living in the house - children who had been happy there centuries before.

The Smoke Thieves by Sally Green (2018-2020)

In a land tinged with magic and a bustling trade in an illicit supernatural substance, destiny will intertwine the fates of five players: 

A visionary princess determined to forge her own path. 

An idealistic solider whose heart is at odds with his duty. 

A streetwise hunter tracking the most dangerous prey. 

A charming thief with a powerful hidden identity. 

A loyal servant on a quest to avenge his kingdom. 

 Their lives intersect with a stolen bottle of demon smoke. As war approaches, they must navigate a tangled web of political intrigue, shifting alliances, and forbidden love in order to uncover the dangerous truth about the strangely powerful smoke that interwines their fates.

Mongrels by Stephen Graham Jones (2016)

He was born an outsider, like the rest of his family. Poor yet resilient, he lives in the shadows with his aunt Libby and uncle Darren, folk who stubbornly make their way in a society that does not understand or want them. They are mongrels, mixed blood, neither this nor that. The boy at the center of Mongrels must decide if he belongs on the road with his aunt and uncle, or if he fits with the people on the other side of the tracks.

For ten years, he and his family have lived a life of late-night exits and narrow escapes—always on the move across the South to stay one step ahead of the law. But the time is drawing near when Darren and Libby will finally know if their nephew is like them or not. And the close calls they’ve been running from for so long are catching up fast now. Everything is about to change.

The Door Within by Wayne Thomas Batson (2005-2006)

Aidan Thomas is miserable. And it's much more than the strange nightmares he's been having. Just when life seemed to be coming together for Aidan, his parents suddenly move the family across the country to take care of his wheelchair-bound grandfather. When strange events begin to occur, Aidan is drawn into his grandfather's basement where he discovers three ancient scrolls and an invitation to another world.

No longer confined to the realm of his own imagination, Aidan embarks on an adventure where he joins them in the struggle between good and evil. With the fate of two worlds hanging in the balance, Aidan faces Paragory, the eternal enemy. Will Aidan be willing to risk everything and trust the unseen hand of the one true King? The answer comes from The Door Within.

A Face Like Glass by Frances Hardinge (2012)

In the underground city of Caverna the world's most skilled craftsmen toil in the darkness to create delicacies beyond compare. They create wines that can remove memories, cheeses that can make you hallucinate and perfumes that convince you to trust the wearer even as they slit your throat. The people of Caverna are more ordinary, but for one thing: their faces are as blank as untouched snow. Expressions must be learned. Only the famous Facesmiths can teach a person to show (or fake) joy, despair or fear — at a price.

Into this dark and distrustful world comes Neverfell, a little girl with no memory of her past and a face so terrifying to those around her that she must wear a mask at all times. For Neverfell's emotions are as obvious on her face as those of the most skilled Facesmiths, though entirely genuine. And that makes her very dangerous indeed...

Squire by Nadia Shammas (2022)

Born a second-class citizen, Aiza has always dreamt of becoming a Knight. It’s the highest military honor in the once-great Bayt-Sajji Empire, and as a member of the Ornu people, her only path to full citizenship.

Now, ravaged by famine, Bayt-Sajji finds itself on the brink of war once again. This means Aiza can finally enlist to the competitive Squire training program.

The camp is nothing like she envisioned. Hiding her Ornu status in order to blend in, Aiza must navigate friendships, rivalries, and rigorous training under the merciless General Hende. As the pressure mounts, Aiza realizes that the “greater good” Bayt-Sajji’s military promises might not include her, and that the recruits might be in more danger than she ever imagined.

Dragon's Bait by Vivian Vande Velde (1992)

Fifteen-year-old Alys is not a witch. But that doesn't matter--the villagers think she is and have staked her out on a hillside as a sacrifice to the local dragon. It's late, it's cold, and it's raining, and Alys can think of only one thing--revenge. But first she's got to escape, and even if she does, how can one girl possibly take on an entire town alone? Then the dragon arrives--a dragon that could quite possibly be the perfect ally. . . .

Tales of Alderly by Alan Garner (1960-2012)

About 150 years ago, my great-great-grandfather, Robert Garner, carved the face of an old man with long hair and beard in the rock of a cliff on a hill where my family has lived for at least 400 years, and still does. He carved the face above a well that is much older. How much older, no one knows, but it's centuries older, or even more. And why did he carve it? He carved it to mark that here is the Wizard's Well.

I am Joseph's grandson, and I grew up on that hill, Alderley Edge in Cheshire, aware of its magic and accepting it. I didn't know that it wasn't the same for everyone. I didn't know that not all children played, by day and by night, the year long, on a wooded hill where heroes slept in the ground. Yet there were strange things. Below another ancient well, the Holy Well, a rock lies in a bog. It fell from the cliff above in 1740 and made the Garners' cottage shake. It landed on an old woman and her cow that, for some reason, were standing in the bog, and, as a result, are still there. When I was seven, the bog was dangerous for somebody of my size and I once got stuck in it and thought I was going to drown, even though I sank only to my hips; but I managed to reach the rock and to climb up it to where a fallen tree was lodged, which spanned the bog, and by sliding along the trunk I was able to reach firm land. Nearby, under the leaf mould, is a layer of white clay that we used as soap to wash ourselves before we went home after playing. But there wasn't anything I could do about my clothes, and Grandad was not pleased.

The Edge is a land of two worlds: above and below. It took me my childhood to learn about above; when I was 19, I went to learn the wonders of below: a world of darkness and silence, so dark that you can see the lights of brain cells discharging; so silent that blood in the veins can be heard.

Stoneheart by Charlie Fletcher (2007-2009)

A city has many lives and layers. London has more than most. Not all the layers are underground, and not all the lives belong to the living. Twelve-year-old George Chapman is about to find this out the hard way. When, in a tiny act of rebellion, George breaks the head from a stone dragon outside the Natural History Museum, he awakes an ancient power. This power has been dormant for centuries but the results are instant and terrifying: A stone Pterodactyl unpeels from the wall and starts chasing George. He runs for his life but it seems that no one can see what he's running from. No one, except Edie, who is also trapped in this strange world. And this is just the beginning as the statues of London awake

[marveloustimestwo]

Hi honey, wecome back 🖤

I'd like to request something with Sirius, we all know that he doesn't mind to share a partner with Remus and/or James, but what about sharing a partner with Regulus? Would the both of them be okay with that?

Hi! Thanks, I'm really happy to be back!

Warnings: Yandere themes, talk of Sirius and Regulus's crappy family

Them becoming obsessed with the same darling would be a rather complicated situation.

First and foremost, their past issues had already caused a huge rift between Sirius and Regulus. It's reasonable considering how toxic their home life/parents are, as well as how often they were pitted against each other.

Growing up, Regulus was considered the "easy child" or the golden child, while Sirius was the "problem child" and the black sheep. Their problems with each other run deep, which would lead to a lot of issues if they fall for the same person.

Sirius is very stubborn. Once he's made his decision, he's locked in and won't budge unless there's some serious intervention from you or his friends.

Once he's obsessed with you, there's no way he's giving up on you, even less so when his brother is vying for the same person. His pride would be a huge hurdle.

As for Regulus himself, I think he would also not want to share with his brother quite adamantly. He can be just as stubborn and prideful as Sirius, even more so when it comes to his darling.

Not to mention if Regulus ever tells his parents about you, they would no doubt fuel this rivalry and back him up rather than Sirius, which would only solidify their dislike for each other.

The only reason I could see them settling their disagreements with each other is because of you.

In one way, if you were in danger, both would try to work together to make sure you were safe. Of course, they would argue a whole lot, but depending on the severity of the situation, they would end up putting their differences aside and coming out better for it.

In another, if you were to directly ask them to stop competing and share you, both would try to take your opinion into consideration.

Regulus is more easily swayed, but if you have a lot of good points on why they should work together, as well as promise to date them willingly, both he and Sirius would eventually agree.

They still would argue a lot, though. They have a bunch of unresolved trauma and crappy parents that really work against them. With some help, they still could work together.

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Hello! I hope my request won’t bother you but can i ask for a funny scenario where Hades, Poseidon, Hercules, and Thor, falling in love with goddess reader who is the child of Nyx and Erebus? Like the reader is the goddess of stars and her hair would kinda flow in the air with stardust and her eyes sparkles like twinkling stars? She’s also very kind and beautiful and that’s why her powerful parents adore her and refuses to let her get married? If you can, can you add Zeus, Aphrodite, and Odin’s reaction to the gods proposing to reader but reader’s parents won’t allow it. Thank you ^~^

-You were the light of your parents, Nyx and Erebus’ eyes, quite literally, being the goddess of stars, you were so bright, so cheerful, and so beautiful.

-Long flowing dark hair that looked to have stars interwoven, sparkling and shimmering in the light, and your eyes twinkled as if you had diamonds in them.

-Your kindness and gentle heart matched your beauty, making you truly a beautiful goddess, inside and out.

-However, with pretty daughters come big responsibilities and your parents had their hands full with the number of suitors coming for your hand since you became of age.

-They had refused all offers, refusing to let you be taken away by any of these other gods whom they deemed not worthy of someone so wonderful as you.

-Still, despite their efforts, a few managed to get by them to you while you were out and about, to approach you with marriage in mind.

-Hades- Knew he couldn’t ask you to marry him outright, as you didn’t know each other, but when he approached you, kneeling down and handing you a red rose, asking for the dance to court you, to take you out on a date. You were surprised that the king of the underworld was vying for your affections but before you could answer you heard, “NO!!!” and instantly you were in your father’s arms, “Nobody’s dating my baby!!” before running off with you. Hades did realize shortly afterward, that you had accepted his rose.

-Poseidon- You were perfect, beautiful, kind, and extremely powerful, no other would do as his queen, and he immediately approached when he saw you were alone for one, “Will you marry me?” you were going to refuse, having heard that numerous times, but your eyes widened, seeing Poseidon there of all gods, stunned that he was asking you. His eyes were soft and kind looking, unlike his normal iciness, and you smiled gently up at him but before you could saw anything your father immediately ran over, throwing you over his shoulder, “Not today!!” Poseidon’s eyelid twitched in annoyance, staring after you.

-Hercules- He approached you with the intentions of asking you to marry him, but as you turned to face him, hearing his footsteps, his voice failed him as his face turned bright red. He held up a simple daisy to you, making you smile softly as his approach had surprised you, but to see the simple gift, it made you so happy. Hercules managed to stutter out a question, asking you on a date, as he wimped out asking you to marry him and you were surprised, as none had asked you on a date before, just jumping straight to marriage. You took his hand which stunned him before you heard your parents, “How dare you hold my baby’s hand?!” your mother hugged you close while your father was yelling at Hercules, who looked a bit defeated by their declination.

-Thor- It was shocking to look up at Thor after he had cleared his throat, wanting to speak with you, but you smiled softly up at him, greeting him warmly. Your kind smile and warm glow made his brain flat line, he couldn’t remember what he was supposed to say as he handed you a red rose. Your eyes lit up with surprise before you took it, “Thank you for this! You’re so sweet!!” He instantly kneeled, spooking you as he took your hand, “Will you marry me, Y/N?” your mother instantly ran over, roundhouse kicking Thor away from you, “No she will not!!” Thor was okay, a bit stunned, as your mother picked you up over her shoulder and dashed off with you.

-Zeus- Approached your parents later that same day after seeing his brother/son try to propose, “May I inquire why you are so against your daughter marrying Hades/Poseidon/Hercules?” your father scowled, “Nobody is good enough for my baby!” Zeus chuckled warmly, stroking his beard, but his aura was threatening, “Are you calling my brother/son not good enough? Who is good enough then?” you ignored the shouting adults as you managed to sneak out, going out to the garden where you saw Hades/Poseidon/Hercules waiting for you with a smile.

-Aphrodite- Your mother was suspicious of her arrival, “Why are you here Aphrodite?” the goddess of love just smiled, “I’ve come to inquire why you won’t let Y/N get married. I saw the proposal of Hades/Poseidon/Hercules and I thought it was cute!” Father crossed his arms, pouting, “Nobody is good enough for her!” Aphrodite, having dealt with situations like this before, smiling, “Then if nobody is good enough, will your daughter be forever alone then? The love of a parent and the love of a partner are very different.” her words made them freeze, realizing this before she tried prying again, seeing you sneaking out behind them, which made her smile, as you went out to meet up with Hades/Poseidon/Hercules.

-Odin- If your parents were intimidated, they tried not to show it, “Why is my son not allowed to marry your daughter?” your father glared harshly, “Nobody is marrying my precious baby!” Odin was annoyed at their words, trying to keep calm, to reason with them, “Then will your daughter be alone for the rest of her life?” Mother flinched lightly, not liking that as your father tried to defend their actions, not wanting you to be with anyone unworthy of you. Odin’s powerful aura shook your whole house, “Are you calling my son unworthy?” the two men glared at each other, the three of them unaware you had snuck out, leaping down from your balcony from your bedroom into Thor’s waiting arms, smiling brightly at him, which made him smile as you snuck off.