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thevillainswhore · 10 months

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Tension

Pairing: Massage Therapist!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Summary: You’re devastated when your usual massage therapist becomes unavailable at the last minute, but an unexpected trainee is more than happy to handle you.

Warnings: Smut (fing-ering fem receiving, mentions of a-nal play, m-asturbation male receiving)

A/N: Unbeta’d, dividers by saradika and firefly-graphics - also a massive thank you to my babe @rookthorne for helping me edit my header, loves you bitch 💗

Listen, just please use your imaginations with the oil, let’s pretend it’s safe and can be used for… things 👀 okay thank you, enjoy x

Resting your head against the back of the waiting room leather chair, you await your appointment at your regular spa. Headache already starting to disappear from the eucalyptus aroma of incense seaping into your skin.

You needed this. The long work week draining you of all common sense to not hit your coworkers over their heads every two seconds, due to their incompetence. Now, it has finally come to a close, and you could take the opportunity to indulge in your guilty pleasure.

This was the only way you could continue to keep your head above water. A monthly treat to yourself of a two hour long full body massage - undisturbed peace and soft hands kneading the stress out of your body until it felt like you were floating.

And it was literally heaven on earth to let go of the strong willed nature that came with your work, placing your care into the hands of someone else. Giving up your responsibilities of taking charge and allowing another to take care of you for a little while.

It felt so good to let go. Forgetting all of your worries that seemed silly in the midst of the background waterfall noises that lulled you into calmness.

Jesus, you weren’t even on the massage table yet and you already felt so much lighter.

With that thought, the lovely receptionist, you’ve become familiar with from your numerous visits, walks out from the back room and addresses you with an apologetic expression.

“Miss, I’m so terribly sorry about this, but an unexpected personal emergency has come up for your regular therapist and she’s had to leave before your treatment today.”

Your face drops. The excited anticipation bubbling inside you from at last being able to relax, dying out instantly at her words.

Of course it wasn’t your therapist’s fault that you would miss out on the only pass time that gets you through the month. Of course, it wasn’t her fault you’d probably go home and scream into your pillow. Yet, you couldn’t help your internal frustration at the disappointing outcome.

It didn’t help that you hadn't had an orgasm for god knows how long too. The band inside was you on the verge of snapping. A massage being the only way to soothe the built up tension over the month and you feared you would have a mental breakdown from the added stress.

“Listen, I wouldn’t normally suggest this,” she goes on to explain as you lift your head with intrigue, “but we have a new massage therapist in training, free for your time slot. His clientele base is still quite small. However, he’s received great reviews and he’s happy to cover your treatment today - if that’s something you would consider. Would you like to meet him before coming to a decision?”

Fuck it. It’s either this or try to relieve yourself with your shitty vibrator at home that’ll probably die out before you can finish anyway. And you really didn’t want to make the dent in your bedroom wall any bigger from the other times you’d thrown the useless thing at it.

So, what harm could it do?

After agreeing to an introduction with the trainee, telling yourself you should at least see if you feel comfortable enough with him, you stand outside the private massage room, waiting to be invited in.

Eventually hearing a breathy shout of “Come in!”, the receptionist opens the door and allows you to step through, the seemingly young man’s back turned towards you as he fiddles with last minute preparations for your massage.

“Just tryna get everythin’ ready for ya, won’ be a minute.”

After finishing up and a final appraisal to the set up, the trainee spins on his fit, claps his hands together and looks at you directly, “Sorry ‘bout that, darlin’! The name's James Barnes, but you can call me Bucky, sweetheart, I’ll be lookin’ after’ya today.”

Holy shit, where the hell did they find this one?

Bucky’s mid length chocolate hair ran rogue with an errand piece falling into his eyes. It took all of your strength to not reach out and tuck it behind his ear, or maybe even scratch your nails through his hair just to grip it and tug to see if he whimpers.

Woah, settle down girl.

A tight white womens beater, stretched across his pecs, showcased his bulging arms and the pure muscle you couldn’t tear your eyes from. You were pretty sure you were drooling, but you couldn’t give a single fuck right now.

If you had to guess, you would have pinned him as a farmhand or a ranch owner from down south before he became a trainee massage therapist - it definitely would have explained his devilishly built form and his southern twang that has your knees weak.

That’s not the only reason I want my legs to be shaking.

It most definitely isn’t difficult to imagine Bucky with a cowboy hat sitting on his head, thick thighs clenching to keep himself steady riding a horse. Or how easy it is to picture him throwing stacks of hay over his shoulders, dirt covering his sweat glistened body as his pure strength gives him no trouble carrying them to the stables.

You don't even realise you still haven’t spoken a word, stood dumbstruck with your mouth gaping open and lost in your unholy thoughts about the living wet dream about to rub you up, completely forgetting another person was in the room with you.

The receptionist speaks up, “Are you comfortable with James stepping in-“

“Yes!”. Your cheeks burn hot with embarrassment from how quickly you answered, clearing your throat and steeling yourself not to continue making an idiot of yourself. “Um- yes of course, yes… not a problem at all.”

You miss Bucky’s sly little smirk as you make the effort to keep your gaze towards the floor, his tongue peaking out and wetting his lips as he gives you a once over.

Things were about to get interesting.

“So sweetheart, I’m gonna step out while you get changed, take all clothin’ off, start off with lyin’ on’ya stomach for me and cover y’lower half with a towel - I’m sure y’know the drill by now.”

Reverting your attention back onto him, your pulse quickens at his nonchalant conversing of stripping naked. Okay, it was standard procedure for the therapist to go over protocol, but that talk from him is sinfully criminal.

Walking up to the door, Bucky suddenly turns around, “Oh and don’t forget to take off the underwear too, darlin’, be back in a tick.” Bucky winks and slaps the doorframe, finally leaving the room.

Fuck my life.

You have a couple of minutes to compose yourself before Bucky comes back. Changing out of your clothes was almost a relief - sweat clinging to your skin from meeting him and that freaking accent that drove your mind wild. Your panties seemed to agree too, considering the sticky mess that clung to your folds as you pulled them down your legs.

As you now lay face down on the table, folded towel covering your ass - back and legs on display - you anxiously wait for Bucky’s arrival, muscles subtly twitching from either your stress or the need to get fucked.

Probably both.

The door opens to your only knowledge of hearing, sight only focused on the floor from the carved head cushion allowing your face to sit through it. Goosebumps raise on your arms as you listen to the door then quietly close and footsteps get closer towards your direction.

You hold your breath when you see boots stop into your peripheral and legs bend to show a pair of thick thighs straining against the denim of his jeans.

Yep, definitely Bucky.

Lifting your head slightly to look at his face when he doesn’t speak, you choke on your spit when you find him shirtless, stomach marveled with so many abs. You would count, but you’re a little afraid you’ve lost brain cells from his presence alone. And all hope is gone when you see his jeans strung low on his waist - ‘v’ line tantalising your dignity as you wonder how morally wrong it could be to drop to your knees and lick it.

You’re not proud to say you don’t take anything he says in as Bucky begins going through what’s to be expected for your treatment. Ever the professional as you think he probably tells you what to do should you like any adjustments made with his pressure or technique. Luckily, you seem to have gotten away with it as he stands and picks up some oil, tilting your head back down to do some breathing exercises.

“Jus’ the massage today then, sweets? Y’know I wouldn’t mind throwin’ a free facial in there for y’too with the trouble y’had.”

What the fuck?

Your brain short circuits. Surely he must hear what he’s saying out loud… right?

Inwardly shaking your head, you put it down to the lack of intimacy you had gotten recently, mind conjuring illicit fantasies and turning everything he says into something dirty.

You stutter to reply, “N-no, that’s o-okay, just the massage i-is fine.”

The small smile on Bucky’s face is so innocent, like he hasn’t just rebooted your entire being. “Alrightie then darlin’, lemme get started then.”

Guess them breathing exercises went to shit.

Bucky begins slicking his hands up with the massage oil, lathering between his fingers and ensuring all crevices are glistening - especially his veins that bulge all the way up his forearm.

“I’m warnin’ y’though, I’m quite good with my hands.”

You don’t have time to stop yourself blurting the next automatic thought in your head out into the open.

“I bet you are.”

If you could slap yourself you would. Cringing in despair at your ability to make yourself look stupid. You expect things to turn awkward, for Bucky to show unease and even stop the session altogether.

To your surprise, you feel a whisper of a breath caress your neck as he mumbles the very thing to probably cause your death.

“Oh, you have no idea, darlin’.”

The start of the massage truly had your nerves settling down and calming you enough to actually enjoy yourself. Yeah, you still struggled with keeping your cool with Bucky’s huge hands caressing you with his sensual touch, but you managed to stop your squirming and relax.

Bucky however, couldn’t keep a straight head for the life of him. Softness of your skin and the feel of your curves literally in the palms of his hands had his cock threatening to bust the zipper of his jeans.

Timid little thing you were, so skittish when you saw him and he just had to have a little fun with you. That soon backfired on him the second he got a hold of you. Fingers itching to just smooth down your luscious body and open you up like his own personal present.

Unfortunately, he had to make do with rubbing his erection against the edge of the massage table to give him some relief. You were just so sexy - a stunning face and an amazing figure - never mind how fucking adorably shy you were.

Just my type and I’ll be damned if I don’t get a piece’a ya, sweetheart.

Was it wrong for him to be thinking of a client this way? Of course. Would Bucky most definitely get fired before he’s even completed his training should anyone find out? No doubt about it. Was that going to change his mind over what he was about to do next?

Absolutely fucking not.

You had succeeded in keeping your moans and whimpers locked away when Bucky reached particularly sensitive spots on your back. No, not the ones that felt a little too tender, the places his touch elicited your growing desire - as much as you tried to hide it, he could still hear your little intakes of breaths.

But that’s not what I’m after sweetie, I wanna hear how good I’m makin’ you feel.

So, he comes up with a plan.

“Oh darlin’, I can feel all those knots in y’upper back, been workin’ so hard ain’t ya, sweets?”

Fuck, you really had. And Bucky’s praise paired with his seductive voice makes you feel all gooey with neediness, trying to stop yourself sinking into your fuzzy headspace as you reply back. “Y-yeah, I mean I guess so.”

“How ‘bout we try somethin’ different, hm?” Bucky begins to explain, “Reckon if we got y’to bend them legs into a kneelin’ position then it’d feel so much better.”

The sincerity of his voice has you rethinking your suspicions towards how exposed you might be. You still had the towel to cover anything private and while your old therapist never suggested anything like this, Bucky may have learned something new and wanted to try it out.

So you begin to do as he’s asked. “Um, l-like this?”

“Tha’s it, arch that back for me, sweetie.” Again, you follow his instructions all too easily. “Little more for me- there ya go, jus’ like that.”

Bucky can’t help the groan that slips out as he observes the thin towel curve over the shape of your ass. You’re not much higher from the first position you were in, but the subtle lift in your legs, and bowed back allows a perfect image for him.

And a perfect chance.

“Gonna work on y’legs now, sweetheart, lemme know if somethin’ ain’t feelin’ good.”

You don’t have a chance to reply as Bucky begins to knead the muscles in your legs. An unrestrained moan escaping from your lips as he uses his thumbs to work the tension out. You feel as though you've been transported to another world, eyes rolling to the back of your head in glorious pleasure.

Meanwhile, Bucky is having the time of his life watching the jiggle of your ass every time he switches up the motion of his strokes. You don’t seem to notice the towel slowly shifting upwards, revealing the bottom of your ass cheeks to him.

He just needs your legs to spread that tiny bit more so he can see your pretty little pussy.

“That feelin’ good for ya, darlin’?”

Apparently, you let go of all inhibitions from the satisfaction Bucky’s hands bring you, all but unbashfully moaning, “Mhmm, god yes Bucky, feels so fuckin’ good.”

That’s what I love to hear.

“Amazin’. Doin’ so great for me sweetheart, jus’ let ya’self relax and Bucky will take care a ya.”

The dip of your back deepens as you unknowingly start to bring your legs more under you, ass canting up like a cat as Bucky’s thumbs rub close to the crevice under your ass cheeks.

He’s so dangerously close to his prize, he can literally see the wetness that’s spilled from your cunt, coating your inner thighs.

Fuck it.

Bracing for the worst, Bucky’s thumb runs over your pussy lips and your breath hitches as the bolt of electricity that shoots through your body. Now fully aware of his intentions, you expect yourself to feel a slither of outrage, some kind of anger at him for letting it go this far and yet you can’t seem to bring yourself to stop him.

Bucky pauses his thumbs in question, waiting to back off as soon as you deny him and allowing you the freedom of consent.

But, you want this.

The fact he stops his ministrations within an inch of your cunt has you unable to hold back your loud whine, ass pushing back into his hold to try and get him to carry on.

As much as Bucky loves your enthusiasm and he’s almost certain you want this as much as he does, he needs to hear your verbal consent in order for him to proceed. “Ah ah, sweet girl, need to know y’want this, need to hear y’say it.”

With great difficulty, fog clouding your head, you manage to mumble a whimper of agreement. “Fuck, y-yes pleaseee Bucky, give it to me.”

And that’s all the confirmation he needs.

Bucky places both thumbs on each cheek and spreads them apart to reveal your pretty, slick pussy, hole pulsing, almost begging to be filled.

You whimper as you feel his long pointer finger slide through the mess you’ve made and teasingly give your throbbing clit a little tap for good measure.

The little shit even has the audacity to chuckle at your desperation.

“Look at ya darlin’, such a fuckin’ good girl for me, ya think we can get y’a little more wet, hm?”.

He laughs at your stutter, no worries for him though, he can’t wait to make sure he leaves your head empty enough for not one single thought to cross your mind.

Bucky gently slaps your leg and bends over you to whisper in your ear, “turn around, pretty girl.”

The last defence of the towel covering your modesty falls from your body as you quickly move to lie on your back, too fucked out to even notice the breeze that hardens your nipples and exposes your tits to Bucky’s gaze.

He could’ve just picked you up and fucked you against the wall right then and there. But Bucky’s a patient man, and he’s not about to put his pleasure before yours. He wants this to last.

Straddling the table as he combs his wild hair back, Bucky grabs your thighs over his forearms with feral need to drag you down towards him, placing your legs over each of his and separating them. This was his personal slice of heaven.

The view of your cunt and the bounce of your tits has him gripping his cock over his jeans, shaky breaths rattling his chest over how turned on he is from the sight - you really were a goddess, a doll for him to play with until you couldn’t walk.

Releasing himself and grabbing the bottle of oil from the table next to him, Bucky looks directly into your eyes, his own hooded as he unscrews the lid. Your high pitched moans and whimpers have his nerves set alight and he can’t wait to see your face as you cum from his fingers alone.

“Buck-Bucky, what a-are you d-doing?”. It takes everything in you to lift yourself on to your elbows, looking down to see him hovering the bottle over your pussy.

“Y’trust me, sweet girl?”. Fuck, with that voice alone you’d put your whole faith in him.

You gently nod as you never take your eyes away from his, that wicked smirk adorning his face as his eyes light up from your answer.

“Good.”

That’s the last thing you hear before you feel the cold splash of oil drip against your pussy and your shocked moan fills the room as your arms give out.

The liquid rolls down your folds, down to your puckered hole and the thought quickly surpasses Bucky of what your reaction would be if he suggested a little anal play.

First things first, Barnes.

Right.

After emptying the remainder of the oil over you, Bucky tosses the bottle onto the floor, and begins to run his fingers over your cunt, shining in all its pleasurable glory. Trailing down to your hole, Bucky begins to press one finger inside you, stopping at the first knuckle only to take it back out and repeat his torturous teasing.

You can’t help your squirming - hands fisted tight in your hair as your toes curl. The relief of a second finger added to the first only lasts for a minute as again, he torments you by going no further than his first knuckles. All you want is for him to slide his fingers as deep as they can go, but Bucky is far too mesmerised with the glisten of his fingers and the feel of your fluttering little pussy.

“W-want more, baby, p-please Bucky, need more.”

The term of endearment as his feasted eyes snap up to look at you, has his cock twitching - you looked so fucking beautiful like this for him and the pleading in your features has him going soft on you.

Always was a sucker for pretty girls begging.

“Need more, sweetheart? Alright pretty girl, y’can have some more.”

You soon figure how Bucky was holding out on you as he fucks you with his two fingers at a quickened pace, the squelch of mixed juices from your cunt loud to your ears and you’d be embarrassed if Bucky didn’t enjoy it.

And he really did, the sound of your arousal leaking out of you because of him leaves him feeling untamed, beastly, as his veins bulge from his arms. His cock is aching, hard from how much he gets off on your pleasure - he knows he can make it better for you, though. He won’t be happy until you lose your voice because of him.

Slowing down, his deep rumble has the knot in your stomach tightening even more, “Think y’can handle another, sweetie? ‘Cause I think y’can, think this wet pussy needs to be filled up till she can’t take no more.”

With that, Bucky eases a third finger along with his other, the stretch just right to have you wailing out with consistent cries of his name.

Curling his fingers against your upper wall, Bucky searches for that spongey rough patch - he wants you to see stars and he isn’t giving up till you do.

“Hold on a sec sweets, lemme just-, find… oh, there it is.”

All of a sudden your back shoots off the table and your scream of pleasure drowns out the sounds of waterfalls in the background.

“Fuck!”

“Tha’s right darlin’, lemme hear y’scream for me.”

You grip his wrist to keep his hand fucking you, his perfect rhythm too good for you to speak something tangible. But you can’t have him changing anything, you need him to keep everything the same, so you can finish.

Bucky still finds it so fucking hot, sweat from exertion gathering on his neck and dripping down his chest. He couldn’t care less, he just wants to see you cum.

He physically has to use his free arm to force your legs open, it won’t do that you’re trying so desperately to close your legs around him. No. He wants to see you tremble in his hold. He’s fucking craving it.

“C’mon baby, know y’so close sweet girl.”

You are so fucking close, so near to that orgasm you haven’t had in so long - you’ve turned dumb, world blurring around you, only important thing in your mind getting to finish.

And you’re done for as soon as Bucky places his thumb on your swollen clit and circles.

“BUCKY!”

He watches as your shrieks fall from your mouth. Tremors rack through your body, legs finally able to close around his hand as tears from the intensity roll down your temples. You’re in your element and he’s never seen sexier in his entire life.

White cream drips from your pussy as Bucky slowly takes his fingers out, not able to help himself as he plays with your folds and starts to fuck your cum back into you.

Soon enough, you begin to calm down, heavy breathing with your occasional whine of overstimulation from his motions blessing his ears.

He leans down to pepper kisses over your heaving stomach and underneath your breasts, other hand stroking over your heated skin and up to your cheek.

“Easy girl, that’s it, deep breaths.”

Bucky continues to talk you down and strokes your sweaty hair back from your face, your eyes closed and mouth open, panting.

He stops his ministrations altogether, but keeps his fingers inside you, his body connected over yours to settle some of his weight on you and bring you back down to earth.

Giving you a couple of minutes to come down from your fluffy clouds, Bucky analyses all your signals to make sure you’re okay and that you feel safe - and once he completes all his internal checks, he flashes you a dazzling smile.

“So… this may be a bit forward a’me, but what d’ya say I take y’out on a date tomorrow night?”

You chuckle breathlessly at his little joke - as if he didn’t already have his fingers still in your cunt. “Only if you answer my question.” you counter back.

“Sure thing, lil’ darlin’.”

Trying to keep your expression aloof you ask, “What did you do before you started training to be a massage therapist?”

He looks like a little confused puppy as he cocks his head and frowns, but answers anyway with a cheeky squint of his eyes.

“I used to work on my mama’s ranch back home, sweetheart.”

Your head rolls back onto your shoulders as Bucky begins picking up the steady pace of his fingers again, fucked out smile on your face in rememberance to your guesses from earlier.

Fucking knew it.

He may not have the slightest clue what you’re thinking, but he doesn’t have to know as long as he’s the one who’s making you smile like that.

And, he already can’t wait for your next meeting as he unbuttons his jeans and pulls down his zipper to bring his dick out and start fucking his fist while he enjoys the sight of his other hand fucking your cunt.

“Now, we got another hour to make sure ya get what y’paid for darlin’, so hold on tight and enjoy the ride.”

A/N: who doesn’t love a happy ending, right? 😈

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hsr-texts · 9 months

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find your cinderella

꒰‧₊˚✩彡‧꒱ ┊ ━━━━ prologue

꒰⸝⸝₊ʚ♡ɞ ┊ streamer!reader x mystery hsr character ꒱

꒰⸝⸝₊ʚ♡ɞ ┊ otome event ꒱

꒰ ☰ WORD COUNT ┊1.4k ꒱

꒰ ☰ DESCRIPTION ┊ ━━ When you do an unboxing livestream for your subsribers, you find an invite to an exclusive event called the "Find Your Cinderella" masquerade gala where you are guaranteed to find your supposed true love, as a rather enthusiastic manager told you. ꒱

꒰ ☰ NOTES ┊HIII omg you guys THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE SUPPORT!! Getting 1k followers is so crazy for me because I've never had a blog be received with this much love and support before so I've decided to make an extra special otome game style fanfic! ꒱

“Guys, look! The package just came in!”

You rushed into your studio, holding a sizable metal box. Inscribed on the sides was a logo of two masks, resembling a certain Aeon. Placing it down on the floor, you gave a sigh of relief. “Aeons, that was heavy!”

Your eyes glanced at the live chat and saw all the messages, curious about the package.

“Seems like you guys are more excited than I am,” You couldn’t help a small chuckle leaving your lips. “It took me quite a lot to get a hold of this limited edition package from LumiPro. Like, do you guys know how much it cost?”

A few comments popped up trying to guess the price.

You shook your head. “100,000 credits.”

The chat then flooded with shocked emotes and comments. It was more than a fair reaction. You found yourself silently thanking the stars that your current occupation as a streamer granted you a steady income. Otherwise, you probably would’ve had to eat the same type of cup noodles for months.

“Anyway!” You clasped your hands together. “Let’s open it up already! I’m dying to see what’s inside. What could possibly warrant such a steep price?”

Your index finger pressed on the button at the top and heard a voice.

“Vocal identification. Please state your name.”

You uttered your name. It was a good thing you added an auto-censor to your setup so that any sensitive information that could get you doxxed would be redacted in the stream. You didn’t want stalkers showing up at your home after all.

“Permission granted.”

Faint clicks of metal against metal could be heard as the mechanisms worked to unlock the box. A hissing noise came from it as the lid opened. You watched, feeling anticipation and eagerness bubble within your chest.

A hologram was projected from the box, showing a person wearing professional attire. They smiled.

“Thank you for purchasing from Luminous Productions. We’ve curated a package that we believe would be of most use to you. For further questions, you may contact support on our site. We hope you enjoy it to the fullest.”

You took a peek and gasped at the sight. “Guys, oh my god, they just gave me a new PC!”

They must’ve done their research because you did mention in your stream a month ago that you were looking for a better PC.

The chat seemed to be as excited as you were, knowing this meant you’d be able to go back to your regular streaming schedule.

You could tell this was a real high end PC after seeing the graphics card and CPU model. Not only that, but it came with a new headset, keyboard, and mouse. You took out the stuff and gently placed them on the floor, letting the viewers see it.

After noticing that there was more in the package, you rummaged around for the other objects. Your hand made contact with some sort of fabric so you pulled it out.

Your eyes widened as you realised that it was a fancy outfit. Upon looking, you could estimate that it was your size too. Was this tailor made?

“Holy shit…”

It seemed like it was for a real special occasion, not even just your run-of-the-mill party that regular people go to. This outfit would probably fit right in with a red carpet event for rich folks or celebrities. Well— One may say, “Hey, aren’t you a celebrity too?” but you weren’t cocky enough to claim the same status as those with inter-galactic levels of fame.

A slip of paper fell out of the outfit’s pocket and you turned to see what it was.

You squinted in confusion. A ticket…? After picking up, you couldn’t help but notice the holographic shine to it first. How pretty.

“Find Your Cinderella Masquerade Event?” You mumbled in confusion. Who was Sugo? You couldn’t recall knowing anyone that went by that name.

Suddenly, the screen flickered for a moment and a new window popped up next to your stream.

A person showed up, wearing what you could only describe as a pink clown outfit that somehow combines cuteness and gaudiness in one. They grinned at you with amusement.

“Heya to all those viewers watching at home!” Even the way they spoke seemed to have a theatrical ring to it. By the way the chat was going insane, the people watching the stream could also see them.

“My name is Sugo and I’m the event organiser of the Find Your Cinderella Gala, or the FYC Gala for short,” they introduced themselves with a flourish. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“Uh… hi?” You didn’t know how to respond. This was quite a bizarre experience to have someone hijack your stream to introduce themselves. Was this legal…?

They chuckled. “Yeah, sorry for the sudden appearance but I figured that it would shake things up a little. I’m sure your dear fans appreciate having two exciting things happening at the same time. You can bet that this’ll go viral too~”

“Right… So what exactly is this Find Your Cinderella Gala?”

“Glad you asked, dear anomaly!” They beamed. Eh? Why were they calling you anomaly?

“See, I’m doing a collaborative project with LumiPro. I proposed to them a large-scale event with celebrities from all over the galaxy, which would be broadcast to every streaming platform out there. The premise is simple, all attendees are there to find their one and only, their true love, their Cinderella, you get the idea.”

“So it’s a speed dating event for rich people?” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. It sounded like a stupid idea. And yet, a part of you was intrigued.

“Right on the money! What a clever streamer, it’s no wonder you got such high compatibility ratings with the other attendees~”

“A what?”

Their eyes gleamed with amusement. “So, we didn’t just pick the celebrities at random. I bet you’re wondering why a small time streamer is getting an invite to such an exclusive event, right?” They tilted their head, leaning on their desk.

You nodded slowly. It was still a mystery to you why you’d be invited when there are far more famous people in the galaxy.

“Behind the scenes, we’ve been developing an advanced algorithm that can find your best match in a group. How it works is that we pick a participant, feed it available information on said participant, then it calculates how well the person would get along with those within the group,” they explained, “What’s interesting for your case is that your average compatibility score with the group is 90%. Most folks that got tested only came up with a 60% average compatibility rating.”

You raised an eyebrow at this in skepticism. “Don’t you think that’s just a bug or something?”

They shrugged. “It could be, but we’ve done several tests and it always came out the same. We were hoping to add you in to act as an outlier to our pool of data.”

“So I’m just a guinea pig for your weird little experiment?” You gave them an unamused look.

“It’s just to see if your results were really true or if it was just a mistake on the algorithm’s part.” They shrugged. “I’m sure it’ll be a fun time for you regardless of my motives. A win win for all parties involved, don’t you just love that kind of thing?”

“I guess but doesn’t this come with strings attached?”

Sugo whined. “Ughhh, you’re gonna make this way less fun if you go in already knowing what you’re getting!”

“What kind of sane person would do something without knowing the full details?!”

A groan came from them. “Booo, that’s so boring! Life needs a special surprise factor that keeps things fun and interesting.”

They sighed after. “But fine. If you’re so skeptical, then I can throw in a 500,000 credit compensation if you end up not enjoying it. So even if you do lose, you still gain something!”

You stayed silent, trying to figure out if this was really worth the trouble of dressing up and going to a party.

“Anyway, that’s all the information I’m contractually allowed to give out. It’s your choice whether you want to go or not.”

“Can I have some time to decide this?” You asked them.

Sugo nodded, smiling in amusement. “Of course! It’s not good for a show to spend too much time on exposition, after all. Let’s give the player some time to shine, hm?”

“I have no idea what you’re saying.”

They giggled, ignoring what you said. “Bye bye! I’ll see you at the gala!”

Their window disappeared, leaving you with your viewers again.

You sighed. What a strange person. Did you really wanna go? It’s not like you had much to lose. Plus, you would be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t want to find out what that compatibility rating was all about.

“What do you think, chat? Should I go?” You turned to the screen, waiting for their input.

#honkai star rail #hsr #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #jing yuan x reader #dan heng x reader #gepard x reader #sampo x reader #blade x reader #welt x reader

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sugar-omi · 2 months

Note

hiiiiii guess whose ass is getting kicked by uni 🥲

I’m not dead yet BUT I’m procrastinating by watching tiktoks and I saw one where a girl was buying furniture and choosing based on how easily/comfortably she could bend over it and I just 💀💀💀

imagine doing that w cove while furniture shopping for ur first apartment/house lmaoooo he would fucking die telling u not to act up in public 😭

save me

-🗑️

hiiii ! omg so real... im actually starting my apps for college soon n i am NOT ready to go back, i am so relaxed!!! 😭 im going part time but still... anyway good luck with your uni stuff!!! <3 you got this 💪 have a lil drabble to recharge, bc pls this is such a thought... IT'S SO FUNNY N I CAN SEE COVE BEING SO EMBARRASSED IN THE STORE, BUT ALSO I'D SO TEASE HIM AFTERWARDS...

nsfw, gn reader, couch sex

but wow. imagine it actually...

cove is so embarrassed when you're in the store, he's blushing and covering his face and he's running away when you "try out" the couch. he's so embarrassed and while you're having a good time he is dying

is so happy when you finally agree on a couch. it's a great couch, but also FINALLY! you can stop testing the couches

but of course, it all comes back around.. and eventually, you and cove end up doing it on the couch

he bends you over the sofa, fucking into you deep and fast, hunched over you, sweaty and touchy, constantly turning your head towards him for a kiss

his hands are forcing your hips down, his fingers digging into the fat of hips, your legs squished under his weight

you can't see it, but cove is greatly enjoying how your body is squishing under his hands, how you're burying your face in the cushion, the ripple of your ass from his thrusts... he's in heaven

when you finally finish, he collapses over your back, his head on your shoulder as he pants, trying to catch his breath...

"that was..." you pant.

"good?" cove finishes your sentence, his body still buzzing from that high.

"yeah, really fuckin' good, but.." you smirk, already anticipating cove's reaction. "the couch is definitely comfortable. we should do this again."

cove yelps, his arms tightening around your waist and he hides his face in your neck. "y/n!" he groans, his body shaking with your laughter

#i wanna fuck cove on the couch too...#“are you comfortable?” “i picked a good couch huh”#pls he'd hate me #olba #our life: beginnings & always #cove holden #cove holden x reader #smut #cove holden smut

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silverflqmes · 8 months

Text

໒⦂ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 𝐈 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐃 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊.

synopsis. dan heng, a person of very few words, has been meaning to confess his love, and even more so now as he prays you are not in love with someone else.

genre. fluff

for @diorlumx <3

dan heng x gn!reader.

a pair of cerulean hues eyed you as a laugh escaped your lips at another joke jing yuan made.

dan heng wasn’t one to get jealous, at least he considered himself not to be. but right now, watching you as you as he was, the vidyadhara couldn’t help the envy that crawled into the deepest layers of his skin.

“there was no reason to be bitter,” he’d told himself not too long ago, forcing himself to forget the way serval held you so closely to her. the blonde was naturally warm and physical with her affection, anyway.

but even if you likes one of them or someone else, it was something heng had anticipated from the very start. something he’d expected.

of course you would want someone with less emotional baggage, who wasn’t running away from their past. you’d most certainly favor a lover that made you laugh, smile and feel true happiness with.

anyone would want someone that wasn’t dan heng. an introvert, closed off individual; even a coward to some. whatever characteristics or titles he’d received throughout his travels. nobody wanted someone like that, and he accepted that.

and so, he told himself not to care so much if someday you did turn up at the express, hand in hand with somebody you deeply loved.

after all, it was your life to live and your choice, always. he would never ( ever ) take that away from you or chain you down to him.

however, the thought of you being in love with someone else.. without the knowledge of his feelings for you, stung him a little more than it should have.

with that in mind, the onyx haired boy did the last thing he would have ever caught himself doing.

with tentative steps towards you, he willed his lead filled legs to move, the beat of his heart thundering — echoing your name through his pointed ears.

dan heng wasn’t sure what came over him, let alone compelled him to muster the courage to grab you by the hand as he pulled you away from the albino haired general.

confusion replaced your initial cheeriness before turning into concern as you watched the male lead you elsewhere.

ever since his secret had been spilled for all eyes to see on the xianzhou luofu, he’d been acting off. which to you, was well, completely understandable. although it didn’t stop your worries as you slid your eyes to him. “dan heng?”

silence was his response as he looked ahead of him, thundering heart in his throat. what was he supposed to say? what was he meant to answer with that didn’t sound weird or out of character to say?

you took his lack of words as a sign to be quiet; patient. dan heng, you realized, required a bit of patience. if he didn’t want to say something, he would say it when he was ready. same with the appearance he hid all this time.

as you got a better look at him, you couldn’t help the warmth you felt on your cheeks despite the ocean breeze. he was beautiful. and he was forced into hiding all of his beauty, not that his norm wasn’t alluring to begin with.

when he reached a far enough- a safe enough spot, the aquamarine eyed male slowed his tracks, turning to face you properly. “i have,” he paused, taking in a breath before loosing it softly. “something i have been meaning to tell you for a long time now.”

your thoughts immediately went to the recent events — was he planning to stay on the luofu, now that he had been accepted among his people once more? no, you couldn’t jump to conclusions. “is it something bad?”

dan heng wasn’t certain. was it good? was it really just bad? it all depended on how you would see it. and if you thought it to be bad, the shame would probably haunt him until his dying days.

but he had to speak, now.

“i’m hoping it isn’t.” he answered finally, meeting your gaze again. it was now or never. “y/n, you are the light in the darkness i have lived in so long. the dreams that drive out my nightmares — and i have been afraid, so afraid of telling you.” the male began, steadying himself from fumbling with his words.

this was it. “that i have liked you for quite a long time now — and i just, wanted to tell you..” he paused, grasping his clothing. “before it was too late for me to say.”

as you processed his words, you were reminded of what jing yuan had said that made you laugh as you did. “i think there is more to what dan heng feels for you than what he leads on.” it was a joke, it had to be one. this was your stoic comrade you were talking about. he wasn’t one for romances and affection.

but as you weighed his confession, as it repeated in your head.. you realized more and more, that it wasn’t a joke. dan heng had his sarcastic comments, yes. but this, this wasn’t one of them.

this was him pulling the heart out of his throat and putting it in his hands, vulnerable and true, for you to see.

and now, it was your turn.

“well.. you’re just in time — you will always be on time.” you finally willed yourself to answer, reaching for his hands as you took a step towards him. “because it’s you — dan heng, that i’ll choose. no matter how long i have to wait- if i have to spend forever wondering.”

your hand slid to his cheek, bringing his eyes to yours. “in every life you might live or be reborn in — i will be there to say yes, and return the feelings i share with you.”

notes. this is so enchanted ( taylor’s version ) coded, it just felt fitting tbh.. such an iconic song like fellas ain’t nobody pouring their hearts out in music these days like my girlie taylor does. anyway, i hope you enjoyed luma! i apologize if it was short, i wrote this in several sittings since i’ve been on trip.. so i’m hoping it’s what you were looking for and that you enjoyed reading it!

↳ return to main masterlist . request rules . send an ask

#— ; 🏹 ) honkai star rail fics.#— ; 🏹 ) astral express.#dan heng #imbibitor lunae #dan heng il #honkai dan heng #honkai star rail #hsr dan heng #dan heng x gender neutral reader #dan heng x you #dan heng x y/n #dang heng x reader #hsr #dan heng imagines #astral express #dan heng il x reader #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail dan heng

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duckywuckypookiepie · 9 months

Text

Literally typing this on my phone as I’m about to go eepies, AND I NEED TO GET THIS OUT THERE

DRAGON DAN HENG AND HIS PRECIOUS TAIL

OH MY LORRRRRDD

update: this went in a completely different section than what I anticipated. It barely talks about his pretty tail that I totally want to wrap around me and never let me go

Warning???? Talks of bebe’s and families

Imagine you guys get back to the astral express, Dan heng in tow still in his semi dragon form, the one that doesn’t have the tail but has the ears and the horns. So relieved that he had came back with you guys to the express, you refuse to leave his side, too afraid of the possibility of losing him, something that could’ve easily happened in the xianzhou if Dan Heng had wanted it too

So you stay with him in the archive room, bringing your own blankets and pillows as to not impede his space. As your trying to sleep however, you can’t, mind too overwhelmed about everything that happened at the Luofu. Knowing now that Dan heng was a long life species, you couldn’t help but think about you’re inevitable parting, wether it be due to a difference of goals in the future or to you dying, especially of old age.

You had dreamed of getting old with him, having your own family, little Dan hengs running around the express. It was something you had always spoken about to him on nights were all you two did was bask in each others company. There was always an air of sadness to him whenever you mentioned it. He’d change the subject moments later but never seemed told you outright he didn’t want that too. You just assumed he did but thought it was too early in your relationship to think about and that he wasn’t ready for it yet, which you totally understood.

You open your eyes and gaze longingly at the man laying next to you, clearly tired from the things that transpired just early today. It was really late and you were also ready to knock out but your mind just would not let you. You had never noticed the distance Dan heng had cautiously placed you in until today. You truly did not know that much about him and his appearance during your expedition was the catalyst you needed to realize that. He hadn’t even told you the xianzhou was his homeland, even when you had gone to check on him before you, March, Welt, and Stelle had departed.

Blue eyes greeted your own as your lover shifted in his half slumber. Quickly closing your own eyes as to not alert him of your staring, and thus your troubling thoughts, it was to no avail as he had already caught a glimpse of your sad gaze.

“Darling, are you okay?” He whispers to you, voice heavy with sleep, and hands soft against your cheek.

You don’t answer, futilely pretending you were fast asleep. You knew he didn’t believe it, but you did it anyways on the hope that he would be merciful tonight and just drop the subject. But ever the patient and attentive boyfriend that he is, he refused to let it go. Moving closer towards your face, he doesn’t let up in his pursuit.

“I know you’re awake… Talk to me, I know you have a lot to ask me….”

No response

Cradling your cheek, he lets go and opts for you to to be brought closer to his chest, your hearing filled with the sound of his beating heart.

His voice was the smallest you had ever heard it before, “…I know I have a lot to apologize for so please….. I’ll answer any question you ask with honesty… I promise you.”

He nuzzled his nose into your hair, clearly tired of the silence. It was his way of gently nudging you to respond to him. You sigh as you give in to him, never one to deny your lover of anything.

Bury yourself further into him, you voice the thing that’s been plaguing you the very moment he revealed himself to all of you, “I just don’t understand why you didn’t tell me… or well, I do… it’s none of my business but it just.. it hurts”

He grips on to you tighter as he hears your voice waver. Before he can speak, you cut in, ever-so the understanding girlfriend he had. “No, don’t answer that.. I have no right to ask that of you. It’s your story not mines and it isn’t fair to ask… im just hurt is all” you whisper, eyes shining with tears he can’t see.

He softly says your name, the hand which had subconsciously started massaging your hair stops to try and pull you away from him so he could see your face. You put up a fight and that’s when he gets the crushing realization of your tears. You hear him let out a defeated sigh as he clutches you tighter to his body.

You break in his hold

Quiet sobs rack your body and you feel so pitiful. You hadn’t wanted him to worry, he had enough on his plate and you didn’t want to burden him by serving him more things to think about and so you tried to keep quiet, even in this moment you so desperately held your breath.

But nothing could escape the ears of a dragon

Apologies fall from his heart and make its home into yours. At this point he too was in tears as he lifted you onto his lap, still tightly clutching at your figure.

“Shhh, calm down baby. What can I do for you hm? Tell me and I’ll do it… cmon, you gotta calm down, breathe darling breathe” he coached you into it, steadying your breathing as he was truly worried at your panicking state.

He wraps his tail around you, the blue appendage naturally manifesting at his lover mates turmoil. It flicks to and fro at your side, an illumination at his own anxiety over the situation. As you gradually calm down and tire, so does his tail, which now comfortable rests around your hips, though his arms haven’t let up on their hold you either. He was a greedy dragon after all.

You’re tiredness gets the ahold of you and your body slumps further into his hold. You effectively melt into him as he continued to hold your shape, making sure all of you, your mind, body, and spirit, remain intact.

“I’m here baby.. For whatever you need I’m here,” he kisses into your forehead, “and if you don’t need anything but for me to hug you right now, we can do that too. We can just rest and talk about this whenever you feel up for it hm? Does that work for you baby?” He gently lifts your chin to look up at him and this time you don’t fight back.

Sweet blue eyes, prettier than all of the skies in the galaxy, meet your blurry gaze for the first time tonight. He coos at your red puffy eyes, rubbing at them clear your last remaining tears. “Hi pretty baby,” he smiles, “there you are”.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were Vidyadhara?” You pout at him grumpily, “if you did, I wouldn’t have said all of that stuff and made you-“ the waterworks had already started to come out again and so dan heng shushes you as he wipes them all away.

“If it’s about when you told me you wanted a family, yo don’t have to worry about that okay? “, he grabs your face and squished your cheeks. Your pout further deepens

“I- I want a family too… when I reincarnate, I was immediately thrown into the sins of a person whom I had bit a single recollection of.. I had no one and it’s something I desperately want… I want a family. With you. No one else but you… you who found me lost and wandering. When I was drowning in the mistakes of another… don’t apologize for dreaming of having a family with me.. I was never anything but glad that you also wanted me in the way that I wanted you” Dan Heng confesses to you. He opened himself up to you, and while it wasn’t an overwhelming amount of information, the fact that he was opening up in general caused your heart to soar.

It was now your turn to wipe away the tears coming from your blue-eyed lovers cheek.

“I love you” you softly, and tearily, whispered to him

“I love you always” he whispered back to your lips

And so that’s how you slept the first night you learned the of his truth. Body’s and hearts entangled.

When you woke up the next morning, you remembered something important

“I didn’t realize you had a tail??”

#honkai x reader #honkai star rail #dan heng #x reader #dragons #Dan heng dragon #dan heng x reader #imbibitor lunae #softfortheloveofmylifedanheng

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robinsno1lesbian · 9 months

Note

Have we thought about going down on neighbor!robin and finding out she isn't as quiet as you thought she'd be?

okay so i wrote this on my phone because i was out when i saw this ask and i just HAD TO.

anyway i’m too lazy to fix the format now so i better apologize for that beforehand! anyway, i hope you like this anon <3

(smut below the cut, MDNI)

you didn’t expect her to actually let you do this.

sure, you had been dying to do this but you had never found the courage to actually ask her or give any signals in regards to your little fantasy.

so when you start kissing down her bare body after she has made you cum, your release still warm against your inner thighs, you're surprised that she doesn't immediately pull you back by the hair.

instead, robin lays back and wiggles her shoulders to get more comfortable on her bed.

you raise your brows but choose not to mention it, too scared to let this opportunity go to waste.

you gently place your palm against her inner thigh, your eyes wide when you feel the warmth that awaits you between her legs.

she gets the hint and, with her eyes closed, spreads her legs a little wider for you.

you gasp quietly but quickly gain your composure back.

you slip your fingers under the waistline of her boxers and look up. robin is looking down at you with excitement in her eyes.

she nods once, but firmly and with certainty. she wants this and, oh, how you want it too.

you quickly get back to work and pull down her underwear, exposing her body to yours entirely.

of course, you have seen her naked before, but this is different.

you've never been this close to her, you've never had your mouth on her, never had the chance to taste her.

until now.

robin has her arms above her head and her breath comes in short, quick puffs.

her eyes are closed and her lips are curled up into a faint smile.

and then there's her body: bare and in all its glory for you to touch.

you inhale sharply while running your fingertips over her abs, down to where a faint line of hair leads to where she's wet and wanting for you.

"fuck" you breathe shakily and robin chuckles above you, her voice low and raspy.

your eyes shoot up, scared to find disapproval in robin's. but she is smiling at you sweetly.

this feels so different from all the other times you've shared with her.

you love her when she takes you rough and hard when her lips are searing and hungry for more.

yet this feels more intimate. you've never felt closer to the older woman.

she reaches out and strokes your face with a look of adoration.

"you gonna show me what that pretty mouth of yours can do?" she whispers and runs her thumb over our lower lip.

eager to obey, you nod and scoot down the bed to get comfortable laying between her legs.

suddenly, realization hits you that you have never actually gone down on someone.

you have, however, some experience on what you like yourself, from the countless times robin has put her mouth on you.

so you choose to make some use of that knowledge and start kissing up her legs.

pride swells in your chest when goosebumps rise beneath your lips and the woman shivers in anticipation.

"come on" she mumbles. "don't be a tease"

you take this as a sign, take a deep breath in and put your mouth on her.

you start with kitten-licks on her clit, like she does it whenever she's going down on you, before moving your tongue down to her dripping entrance and gathering her arousal on your tongue.

she tastes salty, quite similar to how you taste on her fingers and tongue, but with something that is entirely her own too.

you gasp at the first actual taste of her and her hand comes running up your forehead to hold your hair back and guide you.

you then press your flat tongue against her clit before wrapping your lips around it.

her body tenses and when you look up, she takes you by surprise: she parts her lips and moans. loud.

you have never heard her actually moan, especially not this loud.

you press your thighs together and grind down for friction when she does it again.

her voice still carries the familiar cracks with it, it's still low and raspy.

but there's something new to it, something desperate and unhinged. something you like.

you lean forward, hungry for more and bury your tongue between her wet folds.

her grip on your hair tightens ad you briefly notice her thighs clenching around your head. you wouldn't mind suffocating like this, between robin buckley's thighs and with a mouth full of pussy.

her body seems more tense too, while moans fall from her lips steadily.

"fuck, y/n, just like that" robin whispers huskily.

you grind down once again and moan when your center finds one of her many pillows to grind against while you're sucking on her clit.

she moans out loud at one particular harsh suck and then keeps a steady flow of moans all while you alternate between sucking and licking.

her fingers run through your hair as if to tell you that she's enjoying what you're doing to her but she is unable to form a proper sentence.

you notice how her voice is growing more high-pitched too, in ways you've never heard before.

she sounds so desperate, so wanting. and all that just for you.

it encourages you to slowly pick up the pace of your tongue, to grab her thighs and keep her open for you while you eat her out, until you're doing nothing but lapping at her.

robin doesn't mind one bit, of course. she has a hand holding onto the back of your head and guiding you while her hips are bucking up against her.

"you're- you're doing such a good job" she praises. "so fucking good, fuck"

your head is spinning from her praise, her touch, her taste.

it's so much and yet could never be enough.

robin's back arches up in a beautiful bend and her legs shake around our head like your own legs do whenever you're close to cumming.

it tells you everything you need to know.

"don't stop" she calls out from above. "don't stop, don't stop, god-"

you would not dare to stop now.

instead, you continue what you're doing, keep up the rhythm that seems to be working for her until you have her right on the edge, right where she wants you to take her.

and then you push her over the edge.

her fingers curl up in your hair and she moans beautifully while rolling her hips against your face and riding out her orgasm on your tongue.

she whispers sweet words of praise while moaning for you in ways that have you clenching around nothing for her and your grip on her thighs only tightens with each passing second.

her release tastes sweet on your tongue and you're happy to have finally given her what she has been giving you for the longest time.

you smile when she pulls you back up and kisses your lips sweetly, calling you a good girl and holding you close.

#robinsno1lesbian drabbles #robin buckley #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley x female reader #robin buckley x fem!reader #robin buckley x you #robin buckley x y/n #robin buckley smut #neighbor!robin x reader #older!neighbor!robin x reader #older!neighbor!robin buckley #neighbor!robin buckley #stranger things

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idle-daydreams · 3 months

Note

I don't mind i don't think you take my crazy request anyway like i said before i just want Yandere Demon Chuuya X Female Demon reader because i just want wholesome yandere story so it not a point that you don't follow my request.

Also you don't have to sorry about thing you don't uncomfortable to do, it wasn't you fault.

[A.N.: Hi! Hope you like this!]

Tw: Yandere, implied imprisonment.

“So, what do you think?”

You looked around at the snow covered garden, gleaming silver in the moonlight. It was an ethereal scene, made all the more beautiful by the massive red roses peeking through the snow-covered bushes.

“... roses in winter,” you said, your breath coming out in white puffs. Slowly, you stepped out into the garden, pulling your shawl tighter about yourself. Chuuya was so paranoid about you catching a chill that he almost never let you out, so it was nice to feel the cold on your face.

“I know you like gardening,” Chuuya said, fiddling with the bindings around his torso as he fell into step beside you. He hadn’t bothered to dress warmly, yet he didn’t seem cold. “Figured you’d like to get out of the room.”

You didn’t answer, too mesmerized by the riot of color against the monochromatic backdrop of the garden. You wandered over to the nearest bush, tracing a petal as soft as... well, a rose-petal.

“How are they alive?” you asked. “Is it magic? Can you even do something like that?”

“Oh yeah. Turns out I can.” He shifted in place, looking less like the mighty demon lord that he was and more like a nervous schoolboy. “You do like ‘em, right? I know you planted them outside your... old place.”

“I did.” Ignoring the pang in your heart at the mention of home - there was no point to it, after all - you peered closely at the roses. They were exquisite, each bloom as large as your fist. The garden was alive with their fragrance, almost a testament to their existence. “They all died, though,” you admitted. “You seem to have a better green thumb than I do.”

“Oh no, I didn’t plant them,” Chuuya said. “I got some servants to do it. I just make sure that the roses don’t wither away in the cold. So you can mess about with them all you want without worryin’ about ‘em dying.”

So basically just play about with them like a child.

The words rose to your lips, a retort you would have once made without a second thought. But now, they faded away before the anticipation in Chuuya’s eyes. He truly had made an effort, taken more of an interest in you than anyone ever had your whole life. You pursed your lips, then smiled. “Thank you. The garden is lovely. I like it very much.”

“You do?” Chuuya beamed. “Great!”

You jumped as he threw his arms around you, capturing your lips with his own. You stiffened, pulling away instinctively, but Chuuya’s arms were like a vice, gripping you as tightly as he continued to kiss you in a passionate frenzy. You finally allowed yourself to melt in his arms, eyes fluttering shut as your hands moved to his shoulders of your own accord. When he finally pulled away you blinked, breathless. Chuuya grinned back, equally red-faced.

“I’m glad you like ‘em,” he said.

Your face heated up. “Be careful,” you said weakly, picking at a stray bloom pressed between your bodies. “We’re hurting it.”

“Ah, shit. Sorry.” Chuuya pulled away a little, and you gladly followed suit, pretending to care for the flowers to put some space between you two. Your mind whirled with being with him around him; he was so entirely handsome it was hard to remember at times that he was a demon.

Chuuya, however, leaned forward, cocking his head to peer at your face. “Don’t hide from me,” he said. “They’re still nothing compared to you. You’re the prettiest flower here, [Y/N].”

“Ah.” You lowered your head even more, trying to hide just how flustered you were. “That’s not - you’re too kind. I can’t believe you did all this.”

“Why not? Anything for you.”

“No, I mean - all this.” You waved your arms around. “All this. It’s... very thoughtful.”

Chuuya pouted. “You think I can’t be thoughtful?”

“No, no,” you said quickly. “That’s not what I meant. But... you are a demon, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, so?”

“You don’t-” You tried to pull your foot in your mouth- “act like it.”

To your relief, Chuuya chuckled. “What’s a demon supposed to act like?” he said.” You want me to be all crazy and violent?” He leaned in with a smirk. “Aren’t I wild enough for you?”

You cursed yourself for the erratic pounding of your heart. “I meant, still, demons are supposed to be, you know, demonic and all that.”

“I know.” He sobered up a little, looking somewhat abashed. “I try to hold myself to a higher standard than the others. Some of the other demons can be awful.”

“Will I be safe around them?”

“Like hell am I sharing you with anyone!”

You raised a brow. “So you intend to keep me locked away forever?”

“If I have to,” he said immediately. “I’m not risking anything happening to you.”

Your heart withered a little at this, the reality of your situation rearing its ugly head again. Chuuya seemed to notice your disappointment, for he squeezed your shoulder reassuringly. Don’t worry, [Y/N],” he said. “It won’t come to that, I promise. I know how difficult it is for you right now, but I’ll make sure everything is fine in the end I promise I’ll make things better. You just have to trust me.”

“I just don’t want to live like this,” you whispered, not meeting his gaze. “I can’t live alone.”

“You’re not alone,” he said. “You have me. You’ll always have me. I promise you; things will get better. I’ll make them better. At one time you hated me, right? And now you don’t anymore.”

That much was true enough. You didn’t hate Chuuya anymore. You didn’t love him - you weren’t sure what you felt about him - but your initial resentment had faded.

Maybe, just maybe, there was something there. Like roses blooming in a frozen garden, your love had begun in twisted circumstances, but maybe it could survive.

Maybe, one day, it could even become something real.

#yandere chuuya #yandere bsd #yandere imagines #bsd x reader #yandere nakahard chuuya #yandere bungou stray dogs #yandere x reader #yandere #shutendoji!chuuya au

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not-your-fucking-kacchan · 2 years

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♡︎𝐈𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲/𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨 𝐓𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐢♡︎

Day 10 of Kinktober 2022

Summary: after being a brat for a little too long, Shouto decides that you’re in need of a lesson in behaviour.

Props to my beta reader for today @sasualblxd - thank you for your amazing help shawdy! Go ahead and give my betas a follow, they deserve it!

855 words.

Shouto isn't always as stoic as he seems. There are times when he lets a rare smile slip, or when he loses his temper. Each little break in his composure sticks with you like glue, and you just love to try his patience.

Every day you try your luck with Shouto, and lately your attempts at breaking his composure have been getting deeper and deeper under his skin. He's getting irritated.

Of course, that could never make him love you any less, it just makes him want to strangle you a little bit, -but in a loving way, of course.

You would take any and every chance to be the most irritating little brat that you could possibly be, all because you think it's hot when he's angry.

Those fiery eyes and ice cold glare, mixed with the subtle tensing of his jaw as he contemplates throwing you over his shoulder and teaching you how to behave always has you needing a change of underwear without fail.

Most of the time, when you see this look it's when you're watching him fight, and you zone in on the agitation and impatience carried in his expression, trying to burn the image into your head.

Other times, when you're lucky, you get to see it directed at you, after you've pushed his buttons for long enough. Thank God for your unusual talent of getting under peoples skin.

Today was one of those lucky days.

You had been doing absolutely everything you possibly could to push your luck with him, from not cleaning up the messes you leave when he asks, to relentlessly teasing him without giving him what he wants after. It's all just fun and games to you, and in your eyes, the more you piss him off, the better.

It's not like he's actually angry with you when he finally snaps, anyway. More like relatively pissed off.

The moment of your wet dreams finally come to fruition, though, is when he decides that he's going to teach you a lesson himself. And as he walks into the bedroom where you're sitting, watching TV, he grabs the remote and switches it off. No distractions.

You raise your eyebrow, looking at him expectantly. Part of you wonders if you’re in trouble. The other part hopes you’re in trouble.

“Hey, babe... What’s up?”

You’re rewarded with no response.

Shouto simply looks straight into your eyes, giving you an unimpressed look after you had just dyed all of his shirts pink in the wash. It’s an even more pristine picture as he still wears the baby pink work shirt he had put on to do some paperwork at the office, having to suffer through the comments of Denki and Mina throughout his entire shift.

“Aw, what’s wrong, babe? You look so pretty in pink~”

That. That was the last straw.

“The safeword is ‘frost’“

“Wha-?”

You can barely get out half a word as you’re picked up and slung over your lover’s lap, ass up and your belly pressed against his thick, muscular thighs.

“Every day. It’s every day that you’re doing something new just to piss me off and I don’t like it! You’re being a brat, do you understand?”

Okay. Maybe you might’ve been going too far, but you’re a brat by nature, and he’s always been your willing tamer from the very start. Still, your pussy throbs at the anticipation of what’s going to happen next. A rough palm slips its way past the band of your sweats, pulling them down just past your ass, and the chill of being almost completely bare save for a cute pair of grey underwear sends shivers up your spine, raising the hairs on your neck.

“Do you understand?”

His cold voice is what brings you back from your thoughts, reigning in your attention and refocusing it all back onto him.

“Y-yes, Shou- I’m sorry-”

A sharp slap echoes off the bedroom walls a sharp, stinging pain interrupts you. Holy shit. Did he just spank you? Yeah, sure, you’re in this position for a reason, but you thought he would just scare or intimidate you a little to get you to behave, not this...

Another slap leaves a red handprint on your right ass cheek, tearing a squeal from you as you desperately try to wriggle away, discomfort nagging at your limbs. Your back is starting to hurt from having it arched like this, and it’s a chore to breathe when you’re on your stomach, his thighs pressing into your ribs, but the feeling of being pushed down and disciplined like this sends a wave of heat straight through your core. This reaction is only amplified as the next slap is a little lower down, Shou’s fingers grazing over your pussy as he smacks your thigh.

“Oh? Don’t tell me you’re enjoying this?”

His voice is smug and his erection pokes at your ribs while his hand rubs soothing circles around the blossoming bruises on your ass. He knew you would like this all along, didn’t he? What an ass.

Now it’s his turn to leave you high and dry.

◃ 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 | 𝐍𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 | 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 ▹

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akashigadabi · 1 year

Text

Premise: It’s just after USJ and you’re going to see Shouta in hospital. Heaven help anyone who stands in your way.

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Humor

Warnings: some swearing

Summary: It’s just after the USJ incident, and for some reason no one but Hizashi remembers to call you and tell you Shouta’s in the hospital. Anyone who tries to keep you from him is getting bitten.

Fuck fuck fuck. Where was Shouta? Your mind can only tumble between equally frantic thoughts while the receptionist takes her sweet time to give you his room number. It’s been agony waiting for them to finish their treatment plan, especially when they should have consulted you anyway. You’ll just have to make do with what’s left, you suppose, even if it leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.

Once you get to his floor, however, a nurse sitting at the station stands and moves to stop you.

“Miss—”

“Let me through!”

You know the nurse is just doing her job, but right now you just want to strangle her. With how frazzled you feel, you just might. Then she just has to push it by touching your arm, and it takes everything in you not to bite her hand. You were a little feral, just like Shouta, but you never had your lover’s hero shtick to help redirect your impulses.

“Forgive me, but we cannot allow—”

“I said let me through. I’m his wife, godsdamnit!”

You don’t succeed in not snapping her head off, but she takes it well enough. Instead of getting offended, she nods and asks for a patient name.

“Aizawa Shouta.”

“Oh, I know that one. That teacher. I helped bandage him earlier. Follow me.”

You’re practically a nervous wreck as you follow her through the ward. The anticipation and anxiety make your heart beat like a scared rabbit, and all you can do is imagine the worst. It bothers you that no one but Hizashi called to let you know Shouta’s status, but then again, perhaps it had only slipped their minds in all the chaos. Perhaps that assumption was generous.

After all, they have to know you’re one of his immediate emergency contacts. They have to know they need to call you if he’s become badly injured because of your Quirk. You aren’t a Pro Hero, but there are other licenses, certificates, and permits that allow someone to use their Quirk. Anything from Certified Work Permits to Investigative Licenses to Limited Competency Certifications exist for those who wish to use applicable Quirks within certain scopes.

Your specific situation involves having a Restriction Level One Compassionate Healing License. It means that you can use your Quirk on others, even in public, regardless of if the situation is as mild as a sprained ankle or as critical as a skull fracture. Unlike Recovery Girl, your Quirk doesn’t use the patient’s stamina, so you don’t need them to be well-rested or a mild case, or to wait for them to recover somewhat first. Being a doctor or a Hero didn’t suit you, so this seems like the next best alternative. Especially since the government and HPSC recognize how difficult it often is to keep healers from assisting someone injured or dying in front of them and how disastrous it would be to punish said healers, especially if the public got wind of it. So they offer an alternative. Those with healing Quirks who don’t wish to become medical professionals or Pro Heroes full or part time can instead choose to obtain a Compassionate Healing License, ranging from Restriction Level Five to Zero. Level Five had the most restrictions, while Zero had none. It basically meant there were no restrictions on how you could use your Quirk to heal, both in consideration of its natural limitations, and in consideration of its legal ones.

By the time you arrive at his room, you’re ready to collapse from stress, but you have just enough presence of mind to thank the nurse as you lurch into the room. Of course, it’s worse than you thought. He’s bandaged from head to toe, doing a remarkable impression of a mummy. He looks almost like a broken doll lying there, and it breaks something inside of you to see him like that. You sink into the chair next to his bed, barely noticing Hizashi’s jacket that he wears when he wants to be lowkey off-duty.

“Oh, baby,” you whisper with tears in your eyes. “What did they do to you?”

You don’t expect your idiot (not really) husband to answer you then, sounding like he’s on death’s doorstep for a casual nap instead of his dire straights.

“It’s not as bad as it looks.”

“Oh, so it’s just a flesh wound?”

“It’s—”

“Shut up, you insufferable man. You almost died. Let me fuss over you.”

Your hands shake as you uselessly smooth the blankets on his bed. You want to touch him, to reassure yourself of his continued existence if nothing else, but you don’t want to risk hurting him. You haven’t used your Quirk on him yet to ease his pain or wounds. The way it works was that the more positive emotions you felt, the more you could heal. If you felt positive emotions about the patient, even better. Even neutral emotions worked for adequate healing in a pinch. If you needed to “fake it” to heal someone, you could focus on a positive memory or something with positive emotions attached to it to coax your Quirk into healing the way you wanted it to. It sort of reminded you of how people made a Patronus in that one Pre-Quirk book series. Shame the author was some hateful hag, but at least no one has to see her post Chirps. (Chirper replaced Twitter in the last stages of the Pre-Quirk Era, and she’s been dead for the last three hundred years, so no worries there.)

Shouta grumbles but allows your still-trembling hands to flutter over his form, hovering without touching.

“They said I’ll make a full recovery,” he tries again, attempting to soothe you. “You probably don’t even need to use your Quirk. We could just wait for Recovery Girl to—”

You interrupted with a put-upon little huff.

“Why would I let you suffer when I can fix some of it now?”

“Silly woman.”

“Infuriating man.”

Your fake glaring contest lasts for all of five seconds before he sighs and relents. “Fine. Get it over with, then. But you’re the one comforting Hizashi if this wears you out.”

“It won’t. I worked out that the more I love someone, the less energy it takes. Now hold still.”

You reach for his eyes first, because you know how much he needs them for his Quirk and in your Quirk sense, they’re an angry blood red. You don’t know how they look since they’re bandaged, too, but you gather it’s not pretty. Any damage to his eye socket or orbital floor would be hell for his career. Not because being Quirkless was such a terrible fate, but because without it, he’d be vulnerable. Even as an Underground Hero, people recognize him, and if they know he couldn’t use his Quirk properly—or at all—anymore, they’d take advantage of that. They’d see it as a weakness, and in a way it was if they knew he couldn’t rely on Quirk cancellation in his fights. He might fight mostly Quirkless, but Erasure still gave him an advantage.

Only a fool would insist otherwise.

He sighs in relief the moment your energy enters him, flowing into his eyes first, then into the rest of his head to ease the migraine he has. Whether it’s due to his injury, the medications used for surgery, a general lack of sleep, or some combination you have no idea. In hindsight, after you’ve chased away the majority of the pain and swelling, you readjust your assessment to include a concussion and skull fracture in the list of injuries. How lovely, a sarcastic part of your brain mutters as you berate yourself for losing sight of the forest for the trees in your rush to scrub away his pain. On the other hand, the concussion and skull fracture are irrelevant, gone like a flash of sunlight on a rainy day. Frankly, you don’t care. It all hurts him, so you get rid of it. Every single layer down to the last.

His lip, which had busted before he bit through it, also healed, as did his broken nose and a deep gash under his eye, though they might both scar. His scalp healed too. Someone had yanked on his hair hard enough to rip a chunk of it out, and you could almost feel the echo of it throbbing despite the pain easing. It made you furious to know someone had hurt him so badly. It made you ache, too, as if you’re the one laying in bed beaten to a pulp.

Next you heal his arms. One at a time, of course. You start with the one closest to you. A crease grows on your brow as you register the shade—still an angry red, but a shade lighter. His entire body glows like a red star, flickering in various hues of the color that spells danger for the one enduring the wounds. It’s not until your power flows into his arm that you discover the horrifying truth. Fuck the sprinkling of bruises and the little nicks. His arm is broken in five different places, which explains the glare of red bathing your second sight. You sigh from the depths of exasperation, because of course this absolutely insufferable man with no good sense of self-preservation manages to have his arm broken in five places.

“Why does it feel like you’re glaring at me?”

Of course your bastard sounds like he’s amused and apprehensive in equal measure, you think fondly even as you contemplate tying him up in his own capture scarf so he can’t get himself so damaged again.

“Probably because I am. How did you manage to get your arm broken in five different places, Shou?”

“He what?!”

Hizashi’s alarmed cry comes from the doorway. You turn to glare at him, because really? This is a hospital for fuck’s sake! People are trying to heal!

“Hizashi, you know I love you, but if the next sound out of your mouth is another screech, I’ll toss you out of the window myself.”

“And I’ll help,” Shouta added gruffly.

You flick your finger at his already healed cheek.

“No the fuck you won’t, mister! You shouldn’t even be moving yet, let alone throwing Hizashi’s loud ass through a window.”

“Sorry,” Hizashi apologized as he shuffled into the room and closed the door. “I’ll try to be quiet.”

“That’s like asking a cat not to be an asshole,” you mutter as you turn back around, ignoring the indignant “Hey!” from Hizashi as you set to work again.

Undeterred, the inappropriately energetic man sidles up to your side. Not close enough to get in the way, but definitely close enough to watch you work. It’s a delicate process. Even with all the love you have for Shouta, it takes fierce concentration. Mostly due to all the fine-tuned control you need for the seemingly endless fiddly bits. You sit back once you’re done with his arm and massage your temples. Only Shouta, you think again. Only Shouta.

“Your arm is healed, but your wrist and two of your fingers are broken too.”

There’s a sharp intake of breath at your side, and oh yeah, Hizashi’s here too, isn’t he? You’d nearly forgotten since you’d had to block him out to focus. Funny, that. At least Shouta’s arm isn’t hurting him now, though the fact that the other has also been set doesn’t feel particularly promising.

“In addition to the five breaks on his arm?”

“Yes, and some bruising and small cuts. I’ll fix the wrist and fingers then move to his other side. Once I do, it should be safe to touch his face and this limb. Do not touch anything else unless I say otherwise, got it? We don’t wanna hurt him more by aggravating his injuries.”

“Right. I can do that. I’ll hold his hand once you finish doing your thing.”

Without any further discussion, you dive right back into the healing session. Even though your Quirk isn’t directly tied to your stamina, like an inverse of Recovery Girl’s, you can still get tired. The mental and emotional exhaustion that can lead to a period of brain fog or numbness, like the kind that comes after a good cry—or even a short bought of depression in extreme cases—isn’t a cakewalk just because you can often otherwise function as normal. Still, Shouta’s worth the backlash, and you can always sleep it off. You heal his wrist and his fingers as promised, then pause and frown because while the halo of his arm has cooled to a healthier pink as it repairs itself, his ribs scream at you.

“Fuck.”

“What is it?”

“Ribs.”

It comes out as a grunt. You don’t care, just reach out to brush your fingers over them. Some are bruised, and some are cracked. Ribs can be bandaged, but not properly set. You probe around with your power to make sure they haven’t punctured anything, then cut off the flow of energy.

“How many?” Hizashi asks when you stand.

“Enough.”

His hand grips Shouta’s like a lifeline as you round the bed, pausing to correct the damage you see as you go. “Sprained ankles.”

“Shouta,” you hear the blond murmur as you heal a nasty bruise on his leg that feels suspiciously like the outline of a boot. Ouch. Definitely from a kick. The broken blood vessels sing in relief at your touch.

“He’ll live, Zashi.”

He’s got another three breaks on this arm that’s speckled with bruises, another broken finger, and huh. A broken clavicle. You list aloud the injuries as you caress each one, sending warm waves of healing energy through them. You heal the nasty scratch on his neck, too, and the random thigh muscle he somehow pulled. That seems like the worst of it, aside from the hodgepodge of bruised organs that includes his spleen, his liver, and both kidneys, and a bruised abdomen. Thankfully he has no internal bleeding, but he’d have been sore for a while otherwise.

By the time you finish, you feel a little numb, but only just. It seems to have messed with your emotions again in a limited capacity. The closest you can feel to happiness at the moment is bitter relief, though the love you have for him never fades even when you get these spells. They’re temporary, and part of this may be due to stress instead of just being induced by your Quirk backlash.

Mostly you feel tired, like you’ve been crying for a long time and can’t cry anymore but on a low level. It’s a largerly emotionally drained feeling mixed with the barest hint of brain fog. You don’t heal all the time, after all, not like Recovery Girl or some of the Quirked doctors. Even when you do, it’s not often to this extent. You don’t always have to push yourself so much, but now you feel as if you should. Quirk training might just save Shouta’s life one day.

You’d never forgive yourself if he needed you but you were too weak to heal him.

“Is it done, then?”

“It’s done. Give it an hour before you start taking off all his casts and bandaging, though.”

“Are you going somewhere?”

You shrug.

“I’m taking a nap.”

With that, you crawl into bed next to Shouta to sleep off your backlash. Hizashi doesn’t protest. Smart man, that one. Anyone who tries to pry you away from Shouta’s side right now still stands a high chance of getting bitten. Hizashi must like having both of his hands. Good.

#aizawa shouta #shouta aizawa #aizawa x y/n #aizawa x reader #eraserhead x reader #eraserhead x you #hurt/comfort #fluff and hurt/comfort #angst and hurt/comfort #angst and humor #fluff and angst #fluff and humor #usj arc #unforeseen situation joint arc #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction #aizawa fanfiction #Eraserhead FanFiction

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theforgottenmcrmy · 2 years

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From This Day~ Part 1/2 (Ser Harwin Strong x Reader)

᯽ Please note that this is Part 4 of an ongoing series. Part 1-3 can be found on the "Growing Strong” Masterlist HERE. ᯽

Pairing: Ser Harwin Strong x Tyrell! Female Reader

Warnings: PLEASE READ FOR SAFETY. In addition to the warnings of GOT typical sexism, canon divergence, violence, references to the death of a parent, and sexual (non-explicit) themes, this chapter contains a scene in which a man puts a woman in a physically uncomfortable situation. There is no physical violence that results from that scene, but I thought it was worth mentioning anyways to be on the safe side.

Word Count: N/A because I get in my head about it and it makes me self-conscious.

Summary: Your days of mourning have passed… for now. Happier times await you, and your wedding to Ser Harwin Strong is imminent. But first, you have to endure a tourney, an internal battle with your own nerves, a pre-wedding celebratory feast, and a potential scandal that will attempt to undermine you and tarnish your reputation.

Dark plots are afoot at Court, and it appears as though being a stark supporter of Princess Rhaenyra has made you a target. It’s a good thing you’ve found an ally and partner in Ser Harwin- you’ll need each other for the upcoming Dance.

A/N: I’m continually blown away by the overwhelming response to this series. Thank you all so much, each and every one of you deserve nothing but the best.🖤🖤🖤

This chapter will have a Part 2 (which will get a bit🔥, so be forewarned of that) that I’m planning to post on Wednesday 10/12. I hope you enjoy!

PS, can we talk about last night’s episode though?!?!?! I have so many thoughts just dying to get out I simply cannot-

The fifth and final day of the tourney had arrived.

King Viserys had organized the event for Princess Helaena’s second name day, though Princess Rhaenyra had confided in you that Queen Alicent had all but insisted upon it. After all, the elder Princess was given such a celebration for her own second name day. A royal hunt had been deemed fit for Prince Aegon’s second name day, but a tourney in which chivalrous knights fought for honor was viewed by the King as more appropriate for his daughter’s celebration.

Once more, knights from all across Westeros had gathered in King’s Landing to compete in the games. There were not as many attendees as one may have anticipated, but this was largely due in part to the ending of summer. As the fall began and winter loomed, many potential participants were bound to their homes with preparations for the upcoming inclement weather.

Though, by the fifth day, the excitement and buzz about a tourney may have started to twindle, that had not been the case for this one. The participants had given quite the go of putting on a show for the crowd. Though many competed, four different knights had won an event so far. Everyone in attendance was eager to see who, if any of them, would conquer the last event to claim the overall victory. Should a fifth knight win the day’s event, duels would ensure to determine the winner. But the mere thought of that also enthralled the minds of the spectators.

Given that the fifth and final event was the melee, you weren’t feeling too discouraged about your favored participant’s chances for securing the victory.

A chill blew through the air as you sat beside Princess Rhaenyra in the royal family’s box, causing you to shiver. You were most fortunate to have one of the better seats for the tourney, due in part to your service to the Princess, and to the connections of your betrothed’s father. In the arena around you, many were still moving inwards, claiming whatever sitting and standing space they could find. The crowd shifted, never still for much longer than a moment; everyone was starting to get a bit impatient with every passing minute.

Princess Rhaenyra leant as forward as she dared, and craned her neck over towards the far right side of the arena.

You asked, “Do you see them yet, Your Grace?”

“No, but I doubt it shall be much longer,” Princess Rhaenyra replied decisively, though still with a small defeated sigh. She sat straight once more and offered you a pleasant smile. “Besides, this delay presents an opportunity for us to speak.”

“What is it you wish to speak about, Your Grace?”

The Princess rolled her eyes. “You’re so coy, Lady Y/N. Is there anything else I could possibly be referring to?” she coaxed. Then, in a hushed whisper, she added, “The wedding!”

A giddy smile threatened to shatter your calm composure.

But you were more than aware of those seated around you. Namely, King Viserys, who sat several rows back upon a plush throne, Queen Alicent, who sat in a seat beside him, and Hand of the King, Lord Lyonel Strong, who was seated on the other side of the King. After a quick glance behind you, you recomposed yourself.

Princess Rhaenyra questioned, “Are you looking forward to it?”

It was a difficult question to answer. While you could not wait for the next two days to pass so that you could finally be wed to the man that held your heart, the path you had tread since your betrothal had been officially announced had been strenuous at best.

After your father’s passing, you returned to Highgarden once more. A saving grace of yours was that you had not gone alone. As you were officially betrothed, it was completely appropriate that Ser Harwin accompanied you. You were extremely thankful for that; Harwin had selflessly been your support system in your time of need. You wished you would have been able to show him more of your home under less sombering circumstances, but he simply reassured you that once the two of you were wed, the two of you could return to the Reach, or even the Riverlands, whenever the both of you pleased. You adored the idea of that. After your father had been laid to rest in the gardens of Highgarden, you returned to King’s Landing once more, where the proper wedding planning began.

Though you would grieve the loss of your father for the rest of your life, the time for mourning had passed. In just two days, you would be wed to the man you loved, and a new stage of your life awaited you beyond that.

To answer the Princess’ question, you simply said, “Of course, Your Grace.”

Princess Rhaenyra did not seem satisfied with your response, as she narrowed her eyes at you playfully. “With all due respect, that is a rather dull answer, Lady Y/N. Now, tell me- is there anything specific you’re looking forward to?”

“Everything,” you gushed quickly. But then, you hastily added, “Well… almost everything.”

Your last few words caught the Princess’ attention, and she looked at you intriguingly. “Is there something you wish to discuss?”

You hesitated, and glanced behind you once more. To your relief, the attentions of the King, Queen, and most importantly, the Lord Hand, were entirely elsewhere.

Princess Rhaenyra placed a reassuring hand over one of your own and gave you an encouraging look. Though she had been seeking some gossip a moment before, her expression now was more serious and genuine. She whispered, “Y/N, I consider us to be friends, and I do hope you feel the same. If you are having any doubts, please do not be afraid to speak of them to me. I shall hold your confidence, as you have held mine.”

You felt incredibly humbled by the Princess’ insinuation, and it took you a moment to find your next words.

“I do not have any doubts about the wedding,” you corrected politely. You contemplated for a moment. “I am a little bit… nervous, though.”

“Nervous?” she echoed. “What about?”

You felt embarrassed at just the thought of it, but you also knew you could trust Princess Rhaenyra. Even if you didn’t already, she had just very plainly reassured you of that. Besides, now that the Princess was now a married woman herself, you had to believe the topic would not be one she would shy away from.

You cleared your throat, taking great care to speak as quietly as possible so as not to be overheard by anyone else but the Princess. “I am nervous about… the after.”

“After?”

“... After.”

“... Oh,” Princess Rhaenyra exclaimed, a bit more loudly than you would have liked. You shot her a panicked look, and she offered you an apologetic one in return. More softly, she continued, “You are talking about the evening after the ceremony, correct?”

Your face burned with embarrassment. “Yes.”

Princess Rhaenyra seemed to realize just how serious you were, for she made no further jokes. “You needn’t worry, Y/N,” she soothed. “Has Ser Harwin ever treated you with nothing but the utmost respect?”

You were appalled at the thought. “Of course not!”

“And I do not take him as the man to change his behavior towards you simply because you are wed,” Princess Rhaenyra pointed out. “I’ve seen how gentle and kind Ser Harwin can be, especially around you… To be entirely truthful, not all proceedings of the after will be pleasant, but I can assure you, as long as the man you are with respects you, you are already in better hands than most noble maidens on their wedding night.”

You hated the notion, but you were inclined to agree. “Thank you, Princess,” you patted her hand lightly. Then, you dared to ask, “How is Ser Laenor?”

“He made it safely back to Driftmark,” Princess Rhaenyra replied carefully. She craned her neck once more, suddenly more eager for the competitors to emerge, or simply wanting a distraction from the topic. “I was told he has important matters to attend to… He does send his apologies about missing the wedding, though.”

You felt sympathy for the Princess. While she and Laenor got along well, you knew there were struggles in a marriage that even respect for the other could not fix. You patted her hand once more, wordlessly offering support for her unspoken troubles.

At that moment, two additional guests joined the royal family’s box. They descended down the stairs swiftly, before taking their seats beside you.

Princess Rhaenyra turned, and frowned at them. “Lilyan, Eyla! Where in the Seven Hells have the two of you been this morning?”

The Strong ladies, daughters of the Hand of the King and the Princess’ youngest ladies in waiting, gave her hurried apologies.

“The seamstress brought our dresses for the wedding feast to our chambers first thing this morning,” Eyla explained abashedly. “She wanted to make sure she had enough time to make any final alterations.”

“It took longer than we anticipated,” Lilyan concluded.

Princess Rhaenyra put up a stern front for only a second, and then her expression softened. “I suppose, in the light of all that is going on, I shall not hold it against you this time.”

It was quiet for a moment, as no one, not even you, dared to speak.

“So, tell me,” Princess Rhaenyra said then, “... How do the gowns look?”

Upon the inquiry as to the state of their dresses, both girls immediately descended into an enthused discussion. The discussion was only halted by the ringing out of trumpets.

The competitors for the event had finally arrived.

One by one, all of the competitors were introduced by the crier, and applause rang out for each and every one of them… though, it was noted that the reception for some was more thunderous than for others.

They each rode into the arena on their steeds, bid their respect to the royal family, and began to line up along the walls of the arena, where they dismounted and readied their selected weapons of choice for the melee. Though there were no favors that would be given today, due to the nature of the event and the close combat it required, several of the competitors caught your attention as they made their entrance.

“Ser Criston Cole of the Stormlands!”

He’d won one event earlier in the tourney- horse riding.

Out of the corner of your eye, you watched Queen Alicent give Ser Criston a rather proud look as the knight bowed respectfully to the royal family. Despite his atrocious behavior at the opening feast of Princess Rhaenyra and Ser Laenor’s wedding celebrations, Ser Criston was now Queen Alicent’s sworn protector. You would have been lying if you said you had not found their suddenly close companionship alarming.

Meanwhile, Princess Rhaenyra went stiff beside you, and the look the knight gave was cold, blank. It was almost as though she was not acknowledging him at all. Whatever happened between Princess Rhaenyra and Ser Criston Cole a few months prior, she had not shared the full details of it with you. Perhaps that was for the best.

Regardless, and in what felt like no time at all, the Princess had lost one of her greatest allies at Court. Unfortunately, Queen Alicent had welcomed him to her good graces gladly.

You thought Ser Criston Cole was lucky to have not been stripped of his knighthood and exiled… But here he was, competing in another tourney, acting as though his previous deeds had not been ghastly at best.

“Ser Royce Baratheon of Storm’s End, eldest son of Lord Borros Baratheon!”

He had not won an event in the tourney so far- but had come in at a close second in two of them.

The sight of the rider wielding a golden shield with black stag changed the Princess’ tune swiftly. The coldness melted, and she watched with great interest as the future Heir to Storm’s End rode into the arena. When the man bowed before the royal family, you swore you saw Lord Royce’s eyes linger on Princess Rhaenyra for a few seconds longer than what would have been considered circumstantial, or polite.

Had this been anyone else, you would have scorned at their actions. But this was Princess Rhaenyra- not only the woman you served, but a trusted friend. In a low tone, you whispered to her, “Was Lord Royce not present during your tour of the Stormlands some months back, Your Grace?”

“He was,” the Princess conceded, just as softly, in a wistful tone. Her eyes did not leave the knight in question as he steered his horse off towards the other side of the arena. “But he talked an awful lot back then… And seeing someone brandish weaponry so confidently is another matter entirely.”

You nearly blushed at her suggestive comment, even though you agreed completely. Seeing your betrothed compete in the tourney over the past few days, despite your worry over his safe-keeping, and your concern regarding the events after your upcoming wedding feast, had left you feeling rather… desirous of him.

“Ser Derron Tyrell of Highgarden, Lord Paramount of the Reach, and Warden of the South!”

You clapped more vigorously than you had thus far as you watched your brother ride into the arena. After bowing to the royal family, you saw him catch the eye of an individual seated amongst the Lannisters, who were seated in the section beside the royal family’s box. You knew he had to have looked upon Lady Cerelle- Lord Jason Lannister’s oldest daughter.

Your brother, though he had won the archery event a few days before, made quite the spectacle during the jousting event on the first day. Derron had requested the favor of Lady Cerelle, which she granted him. He then proceeded to knock her younger brother Loreon off his horse and promptly onto his rear end with a single strike. The quick defeat of the young lord in the first round was much to the young man’s anger, and even more so to the embarrassment of his father. And yet, you smiled at the memory.

“Ser Gwayne Hightower of Oldtown, eldest son of Lord Otto Hightower, and brother of the Queen!”

Ser Gwayne had won the axe throwing event the previous day, beating Ser Royce by only a narrow margin. The Queen displayed a newfound enthusiasm for her brother after the recent win, and she gleamed at him brightly as he paid his respects to the royal family.

“Ser Harwin Strong of Harrenhal, eldest son of Lord Lyonel Strong, Hand of the King!”

You didn’t bother to hide your smile as your betrothed finally rode into the arena. Sword sheathed at his side, Ser Harwin Strong wore his armor, which you had come to see him don more often than not, and held a shield bearing House Strong’s sigil in his free hand. After bowing to the royal family, Ser Harwin Strong unabashedly captured your gaze and smiled at you.

Despite the butterflies his look left you with, you smiled and subtly nodded your head to the side, silently pleading to him to move on. You knew the crier would prompt him to do so soon anyways if he continued to linger. Thankfully, your betrothed did as you subtly suggested. He was just as excited for the fifth and final event as the crowd watching him.

Once all of the competitors had been introduced, the knights took their places along the walls of the arena, arming themselves with their shields and weapons of choice. The center of the tourney ground had been cleared out of all other obstacles, allowing them ample room to go about the field as they pleased.

After everyone was readied, King Viserys briefly welcomed everyone to the final day of Princess Helaena’s celebratory tourney. Then the crier finally announced the beginning of the event.

The eager cheering of the crowd rang out, and the melee began.

…

The melee went on for several hours.

You watched with both great intrigue and bated breath as the knights struck and reigned blows upon each other. Though every weapon yielded was blunted, so as to discourage any lethal results of the competition, the sheer force of being hit and bludgeoned with any of them was more than capable of causing bruising and breaking bones.

Alliances emerged as the melee continued, but most were dissolved just as quickly as they had formed. However, a few participants watched the backs of one another for longer stretches of time. You were pleased to see that one of the longer standing alliances was that of your brother Derron and Ser Harwin. The pair of them had taken down five of their opponents in the first half hour of the melee. But that was not too shocking; your brother was a skilled fighter, and Ser Harwin had been nicknamed Breakbones for a reason.

But eventually, the need for alliances dwindled. One by one, knights were bested, and they yielded to another willingly… or they were knocked out cold, and the crier had deemed them as unable to continue. The fighting did not cease in the background as unconscious bodies were dragged off the tourney ground.

Though only a few men were left on the field, the audience was as enthralled as ever.

A major upset came when Ser Royce Baratheon, armed with a war hammer that he handled as though it was only a mere extension of his arm, forced Ser Criston Cole to his knees. The sworn protector of the Queen yielded to his opponent. You could hear the disappointed sigh of Queen Alicent behind you, despite being seated several rows away.

You snuck a glance at Princess Rhaenyra as Ser Royce Baratheon briefly celebrated his victory. You could tell by the look in her eyes that the future Heir to Storm’s End had successfully captured her complete and undivided attention. It was not immediately certain what would come of this, if anything at all. But you did know that whatever it was, you would never speak of it. If the Princess had a wandering eye, or wandering hands, well… Those would be secrets you would take with you to the grave.

Unfortunately, Ser Royce’s victory had also garnered the attention of Ser Gwayne Hightower, who proceeded to attack him with vigor. Due to fatigue achieved from several hours of fighting, it did not take long for the young Lord to yield to the son of the former Hand of the King.

Whilst Ser Harwin was preoccupied fighting a newly appointed knight and bannerman of House Tully, Derron decided to take on Ser Gwayne. The two were nearly the same age, and had spent significant amounts of time together in their youth. But as they grew older, the friendship of their boyhood faded, giving way to their more competitive natures. Such was only fitting; the Tyrells and Hightowers, though the latter had always sworn fealty to the former, were almost always entangled in nuanced competition for power within the Reach.

The pair of them fought tooth and nail for dominance, but eventually, your brother Derron was forced to yield in order to save himself from a broken arm at Ser Gwayne’s hand. The knight from House Tully had also yielded, leaving your betrothed and Ser Gwayne as the last two competitors on the field.

At first, the onslaught between the competitors felt a bit personal… and perhaps it was. Ser Harwin had won the joust on the first day. He defeated countless other competitors in the previous rounds before dismounting Ser Gwayne in the final one to claim victory.

Thankfully, the battle between the final two knights passed relatively quickly, though it still felt too long for your liking.

At one particular moment, you, along with the Ladies Lilyan and Eyla beside you, almost shot up from your seats with concern as Ser Gwayne successfully landed a particularly brutal blow with his blunted sword to the temporarily exposed neck of Ser Harwin. The latter fell to his knees, and you watched fearfully, silently praying he would yield so as to spare himself from any serious harm.

But the blow only fueled the fire in your betrothed. Suddenly enraged, he fought through the pain to spin and clear himself out of the way of Ser Gwayne’s following strike. Not but a minute later, the tables had turned. The Queen’s brother was on his back, yielding to Ser Harwin as the former’s blunt sword was pressed to his neck.

The crowd erupted into cheers for all of the competitors, but especially for the victor. Though, perhaps none of them cheered quite so loudly as you and the Strong sisters. However, the cheers and praises from Princess Rhaenyra could have easily been a close second.

“I hereby declare Ser Harwin Strong of Harrenhal as the victor of the melee, and the overall champion of the tourney!” King Viserys announced as a squire brought over Ser Harwin’s steed.

Beside the King, Lord Lyonel Strong looked most pleased, blatantly gleaming with a father’s pride.

As you continued to applaud, you watched with immense relief as your betrothed rode to the center of the arena, where he took a moment to revel in the cheers of the crowd.

A victor most deserved, you thought fondly.

Once the volume of the crowd began to fall, the King continued. “Ser Harwin, as champion of these games, it is your right to dedicate your victory to any lady in attendance, and thereby name her as the Queen of Love and Beauty.”

The crier, who had joined Ser Harwin in the center of the arena, presented him with a crown of roses. You could see the vibrant color of the flowers all the way from your seat. Their petals were blood red, and most likely from what would be one of the last gatherings of the season.

Ser Harwin thanked the crier and took the crown from him. The audience continued to applaud as Ser Harwin rode across the arena. He halted his horse right in front of the royal family’s box, and looked up at you.

“Lady Y/N!” he called up.

You rose from your seat, ignoring the giggling and bubbly babblings of the Strong sisters and the knowing smirk from Princess Rhaenyra. You stepped forward, and placed your hands on the railing before you as you looked down onto the field.

Despite how battered, dirty, and downright exhausted he appeared, Ser Harwin’s smile shone through all of it, making your heart swoon. “Lady Y/N of House Tyrell, would you accept a champion’s favor?”

You’d be willing to accept just about anything Ser Harwin bestowed upon you… but that was neither here nor there.

You forced your voice to keep steady as the pure joy you felt all but consumed you. “It would be my honor, Ser Harwin.”

Being mindful as to hold your balance, you leant further over the railing. You tiled your head downwards slightly, allowing Ser Harwin to reach up and place the crown of roses delicately upon your head.

King Viserys declared approvingly, “A fitting crown, for the Lady of Roses!”

The crowd cheered.

The evening of the following day, a feast was held.

Though a larger and grander wedding feast would follow the ceremony tomorrow morning, you were excited for the additional opportunity to celebrate with your family, friends, and the majority of your invited guests.

Prior to your father’s passing, he and Lord Lyonel had decided that the wedding would take place in Highgarden. Your family had agreed to be responsible for the majority of the expenses, and, since more of the resources were closer to your disposal at your home, it was the most reasonable option.

But after your father’s passing, King Viserys had insisted that some space within the Red Keep and surrounding gardens be used for the celebration instead. The King’s offer had surprised you. Perhaps he pitied you for the recent loss of your father- whom he still referred to as “old friend.” Perhaps he did not wish for his daughter to travel to Highgarden without her husband. Or perhaps King Viserys was simply very amicable with his current Hand, and as such, did not wish to miss the wedding of his eldest son.

Whatever the reason, neither you, Harwin, his Lord Hand father, or your recently inherited Lord of Highgarden brother were in any position to turn down the King’s offer.

Your family had been spared from some of the wedding expenses, and that was something for which you were sure your brother was grateful for. Though Derron had been preparing for the role he had stepped into for his entire life, he was still adjusting to his new title and responsibilities. But, in time, you knew he would grow to be a man who made your father’s memory proud.

Though the wedding had been moved to take place in King’s Landing, a large number of your and Ser Harwin’s invited family and friends had still been able to attend, and you were grateful for that. In addition to the festivities tomorrow, most of your guests decided to attend this evening’s fest as well.

King Viserys was absent. He sent his regards ahead of time, noting that he wished to rest for the ceremony and celebrations tomorrow. The Queen was absent as well, citing her need to care for her husband. However, a large gathering of Hightowers had still gathered, including the now-mending Ser Gwayne. You decided that it fell upon your brother to greet them later and exchange pleasantries.

Princess Rhaenyra was also present. She’d been given a place of honor at the high table, as the lack of the rest of the royal family had created a question of where she would be seated. It worked out perfectly; the familial guests on Ser Harwin’s side of the table outnumbered your own by far, even with the addition of the Princess.

As the meal began, Lord Lyonel commanded the attention of the room with a speech thanking the guests for their attendance.

“I thank you all for traveling, both near and farm to attend the wedding of my eldest son Harwin, to the lovely Lady Y/N Tyrell.”

A polite round of applause followed.

As Lord Lyonel continued his speech, you were frequently distracted by your brother, seated to your right, and your betrothed, seated to your left. Both men were equally as guilty for shifting and groaning every so often in pain as a result of the blows they’d endured throughout the tourney that week.

“What am I going to do with the two of you?” you asked them under your breath, smiling politely at Lady Hightower when she gave you a slightly suspicious look from the table where the rest of her family was seated.

“Take pity on us fools, I hope,” Harwin whispered back, giving you a small smile strained by his discomfort.

“Is this what I have to look forward to for our marriage?” you countered softly, your tone more teasing than serious. Then, to the both of them, you said, “The two of you knew the ceremony and feast were to take place tomorrow, and yet the both of you still insisted on taking place in the tourney.”

“Sister, might I remind you that your betrothed is now the champion of that tourney?” your brother asked redundantly. Then, Derron huffed. “Truly, Y/N- you act as though you are completely unaccustomed to such behavior, when you’ve been putting up with my antics your entire life. Now, it seems like my soon to be brother will merely be taking my place on the morrow.”

You gritted your teeth. “... Brother?”

“Yes, Sister?”

“Eat your food that we’ve paid for.”

Derron said nothing in protest. He promptly did exactly as you bid him, though not without the accompaniment of some wine to help dull his pain.

You turned to Harwin, and involuntarily frowned as another pained look flashed across his face. He readjusted his chair once more and sat up straighter in an effort to find some relief. Your gut sank at the sight of the ghastly bruise that had begun to form upon his neck from where he had fallen victim to Ser Gwayne Hightower’s blow during the tourney’s melee. The fresh purple color crept up the skin of his neck, and disappeared beneath the collar of his doublet. For a moment, you dared to wonder how far the wound traveled, only hidden from sight.

Before Ser Harwin could settle himself and place his hand back upon the table, you stopped him by placing your own overtop of his.

His hazel eyes snapped up to meet yours. You wanted nothing else but to drown in those pools of calming green, but unfortunately, you had a rather large audience.

“Are you alright?” you whispered.

Harwin gave you a brief but affirming nod. Before you could say anything further, he lifted your hand and placed a soothing kiss upon the back of it. He lowered your hands, but did not withdraw his own. Instead, your hands rested, fingers intertwined, on top of the table.

With the reassurance from your love, your attention returned once more to your soon to be father by marriage, who was concluding his speech. You almost wished you’d heard more of it. The little of it you managed to catch warmed your heart, and you found yourself incredibly thankful to be marrying into a family who seemed to value one another as highly as your own did.

Your brother gave a speech following the Lord Hand’s. It was inevitable that he mentioned the recent passing of your father; you knew it had been coming. But at the first sight of your falling face, Ser Harwin’s hand tightened around your own in a silent gesture of support.

Once the meal and speeches were concluded, you and Harwin took to the dance floor first.

Though all eyes were upon you, you still dared to converse with one another.

“Perhaps this feast will not end with you whisking me away to safety,” you jested, loud enough so that only he could hear.

“I should hope not, My Lady,” Ser Harwin agreed heartily. He spun you once, before pulling you back to him. Then, he gave you a conflicted frown. “I can still feel the bruises you inflicted upon me that evening, though no traces of them remain.”

You bowed your head sheepishly, not having realized that you had hit or kicked him nearly that hard. Yet again, the scene you had been in was one of pure chaos, and you had no idea who had swept you up and over their shoulder at the time. Your instincts had kicked in.

“I must admit,” Harwin confessed good-naturedly, “You are a lot stronger than I would have surmised.”

Coming from him, it was one of the highest compliments you’d ever received. “Perhaps I am marrying into the right family, then.”

“Perhaps you are,” he agreed, a playful glint in his eyes.

After your shared dance concluded, several others took to the floor, while other guests took the opportunity to speak and acquaint themselves. Harwin excused himself remorsefully, explaining that his father wished for him to make rounds with the guests. You understood, knowing it wouldn’t be long before your brother Derron would find you and ask you to do the same.

In the meantime, you busied yourself with a group dance next. The Strong sisters joined you on the dance floor, and the three of you spun and stepped along to the beat of the song with excitement and ease. The more time you spent with them, the more you came to love the young women who would shortly become family. You hadn’t been blessed with many sister-like figures in your early life, but you’d take advantage of it fully, now that you had been.

In the periphery of your eye, you spotted Lady Cerelle Lannister lingering on the edge of the dancefloor. Earlier that evening, your brother had requested that you might try to get to know the young woman a bit better. You had your sneaking suspicions as to why, but, as he was your brother, you still wanted to do what you could to assist him with the matter.

Once the song was concluded, you excused yourself from the Strong sisters, and made your way over to her.

“Lady Y/N,” she greeted, nodding courteously.

You returned the gesture with a smile. “Lady Cerelle. Are you enjoying the feast?”

“Very much so,” she answered, genuine warmth filling her every word. “Congratulations on your wedding, and to Ser Harwin. Besting the competitors in that tourney must not have been an easy task, but he did so with great honor.”

“I will extend him your congratulations,” you assured her. “If my brother could not have been the victor, I am glad it was Ser Harwin.”

“Lord Derron fought just as well,” Lady Cerelle insisted. “It is a shame Ser Gwayne halted his momentum.”

Lord Lannister’s daughter spoke of your brother with great respect. And, you swore there was something else hidden amongst her well-spoken words… A bit of fondness, maybe? You did not think too highly of several of the Lannisters, but Lady Cerelle seemed to carry herself in a matter dissimilar to the others. Perhaps she would thrive in an environment in which she was not constantly surrounded by her family… as you had.

It was enough for you to wish to test the waters. “I was just discussing with Lady Lilyan and Lady Eyla about arranging a visit to Highgarden in the spring… Have you ever been?”

“I am afraid I have not had the pleasure, My Lady.”

“Perhaps you would care to join us?” you proposed. “There will be several festivals, and the gardens in the spring are truly a sight to behold.”

To your surprise, Lady Cerelle smiled enthusiastically in response to your request. “Perhaps I would.”

“I beg you to consider it,” you beamed encouragingly. “I shall write to you later to make the arrangements. My brother would be most honored to host you at Highgarden, My Lady.”

Lady Cerelle picked up on the meaning behind your words at once. She blushed. “As I would be to receive the invitation.”

…

Some time later, you politely excused yourself to return to the high table. You desperately sought something to quench your thirst.

On your way, you noted Lord Larys, Ser Harwin’s younger brother, was having what appeared to be a pleasant conversation with your cousin, Lord Garrett Redwyne. It made you very happy to see potential bonds forming between yours and your betrothed’s families.

Finally, you reached the high table. But before you could even lift your goblet to your lips, a waiting servant approached you.

“My Lady,” she greeted you. “I was told that Princess Rhaenyra wishes to speak with you privately, out in the corridor.”

That piqued your interest.

You looked across the room, and spotted Princess Rhaenyra, who was conversing with Lord Lyonel. When she noticed you look her way, she nodded to you with a small smile, before her focus returned to Lord Lyonel.

“Thank you,” you told the serving girl. “Did the Princess say when she wished to meet with me?”

“I was only told that she wished to speak with you at once, My Lady.”

Even though it was the night before your wedding, you were in no position to keep Princess Rhaenyra waiting. Besides, if she needed to speak with you in the middle of the feast, it was likely to be a matter of high import.

You glanced about the room, confirming that no one in particular had eyes upon you. Once you were convinced the coast was clear, you slipped out of the banquet hall, and into the corridor.

The passage was empty. Though it was dimly lit by a few torches, moonlight fell upon the stone floor from the courtyard running alongside it, illuminating it.

You didn’t know what the Princess wished to speak with you about, but seeking some additional privacy certainly couldn’t hurt. You walked away from the banquet hall and headed further down the corridor. Footsteps echoed off the stone walls beside you.

You waited for five minutes. Then ten. And then some more.

Still, you continued to wait for Princess Rhaenyra.

Just as you were about to seriously debate returning to the banquet hall, knowing you could simply speak with the Princess in her chambers after the feast if she so wished, you heard the sound of footsteps drawing near.

You turned, and resummoned your patience as you watched the figure approach you.

It was not Princess Rhaenyra.

“Lord Loreon.”

The young golden-haired lord smiled.

Princess Rhaenyra was conversing with Lord Lyonel Strong and congratulating him on the wedding when she saw you slip out of the banquet hall and into the corridor. She thought it odd when you did not immediately return, but eventually wrote it off. She hadn’t seen Ser Harwin for a while either, and she suspected he might have also taken the opportunity to briefly step outside the feast and have a moment with you alone.

But as she conversed with the Hand of the King, she was taken aback when Ser Harwin approached them. He looked a bit confused, though not quite alarmed. Yet.

“Your Grace, Father- I apologize for interrupting. Have either of you seen Lady Y/N?” Ser Harwin questioned them. He looked around the room with a slight frown, eyes rapidly scanning the area for any sight of you.

Before Princess Rhaenyra could offer up what little information she had, your brother, the newly-inherited Lord Derron Tyrell, also approached the small gathering.

“Are you looking for my sister as well?” Lord Derron surmised, not bothering to wait for a confirmation to his question before continuing. “Our aunt wishes to speak with her.”

“I saw her slip out into the corridor,” Princess Rhaneyra recalled. “But that was quite some time ago…”

Lord Lyonel, as if seeing the gears of worry start to churn in his son’s head, added, “Perhaps Lady Y/N just needs a bit of time to herself. It has been an eventful few days.”

Ser Harwin settled down a bit at his father’s reassurance, but it was clear he was not completely at ease.

“I believe the Lord Hand is right,” Lord Derron agreed, clapping a reaffirming hand on Ser Harwin’s shoulder. “I’m sure my sister just wanted some fresh air… it is feeling a bit stuffy in here. If she has not returned shortly, I shall go check on her myself.”

“Gods, where is that boy?” Lord Jason Lannister loudly demanded, from a nearby table. “Has anyone seen my son? …Where is Loreon?”

As if on queue, Princess Rhaenyra spotted the young lord in reference exiting the banquet hall. He slipped into the same corridor she had seen her own lady in waiting slip out into a while ago, and disappeared from view.

Upon merely seeing the Heir to Casterly Rock, you decided to return to the banquet hall with the utmost haste. There were plenty of other people you would rather converse with, let alone be forced to share the same space with. Princess Rhaenyra would understand if your conversation would have to be held at a later time.

“Are you seeking a rest from the festivities, My Lord?” you asked as politely as you could manage. Your last conversation with Lord Loreon at Princess Rhaenyra and Ser Laenor’s wedding welcome feast was not far from your mind. “I was taking a reprieve from the dancing myself, but I believe it’s best if I return to the feast now. If you’ll excuse me-”

Lord Loreon side stepped, effectively halting you in your tracks.

“It is a funny game you play, Lady Y/N, I shall give you that,” he said, a trace of a laugh lingering in his tone.

You frowned deeply. “I beg your pardon, My Lord?”

“This game of yours…” Lord Loreon trailed off, as if thinking deeply about how to describe what he was thinking of. “It’s a game of cat and mouse, is it not?”

You stared at him blankly, having no idea what in the Seven Hells he could possibly be referring to.

Lord Loreon snickered to himself. “I knew your coldness towards me had to be a charade. And all this business with your brother, trying to gain my sister's affections? That was part of it as well, wasn’t it? ... It was all a ploy, correct? A ruse so that you could grab my attention? …Well, I must admit, it worked. Rather well, actually.”

You were stunned speechless by your sheer confusion.

“I understand you are having doubts about your betrothal,” Lord Loreon informed you matter of factly. Offhandedly, he added, “As you should.”

“What are you-”

“But that is no matter,” he interrupted proudly, smiling once more. “You have confided in me now, and not a moment too soon. That is what matters. Just say the word, and we can flee King’s Landing tonight.”

You scoffed in disgust. The way Lord Loreon spoke was as if in some sort of enamored trance. It was completely out of character for him, and you were highly disturbed. “Are you well, My Lord? … When my brother knocked you off your horse during the joust, did you hit your head as well?”

By some miracle, Lord Loeron took no offense to your comment. And that is when you knew something was terribly wrong.

The thought was only reinforced when he placed his hands up against the wall, one flat against either side of your head. You were pinned between the delusional young Lord before and the cold stone at your back.

“Let us steal away,” Lord Loreon proposed conspiringly, putting on what you could only guess was his best attempt at flirtation. “We could be well on our way to Casterly Rock by morning’s light.”

You smacked him right across the face as hard as you could. The sound echoed harshly throughout the otherwise silent corridor.

The spell had broken, and Lord Loreon snapped out of his stupor, leaving him in a brief haze. But then, realization overcame his face as he processed what you had done, and his confusion shifted to anger.

His eyes narrowed dangerously. A single finger was raised, pointing at you warningly.

Before Lord Loeron could make a threat, a third voice roared out.

“What in the gods’ name is the meaning of this?!”

A/N: Thank you for reading!🖤 Part 2 can be found HERE.

PS PS, I 110% imagine Joffrey as a face-claim for a certain Lannister Lord.🤫

᯽ Please note that the best way to request to be added to the taglist is to send me an ask or message directly, but I will still do my best to keep checking the comments for any requests there.᯽

Taglist: @whitetigerlover17 @littlebirdgot @te5s3ract @nerdboylover @piper570 @ephemeralninon @linkpk88 @kaygilles @hippzella @wicked-hg @thatgaytevinter @nowheredreamer @ateliefloresdaprimavera @saintspector @thebigbadbatswife @blazinglioness @itevilhag @chlo-feigh @bettybrainrot @liadamerondjarin @fuckmylifedudee @hippzella @my-dark-prince @sweetestrose569 @kaygilles @lol-im-done @im-married-to-chris-evans @chetpuff @venus2eros @wicked-hg @mamamooqa @prettymingwoo @bxdbxtxh15 @ateliefloresdaprimavera @brbaabs @novazoldyck @hoyaharper @shanzeyxsyed @microwaveallthedemons @piper570 @fireghost-x @lakamaa12 @holb32 @thesheelfsworld @inkareds @fuckoffthanos @mortallyspookyglitter @akinatrix @bingewatche @guerraandpaes @nonniecannie @mousse-au-citron @autumnleaves1991-reads @thesithdiaries @potatingpotato-reads @perpetual-exhaustion21 @sinful-wxrld @marvelcriminalhoe2 @redpool @blazinglioness @re-enjoy @itevilhag @jfcreading @prettywhencry1234 @dankpunks @justonemore-fic @yonduismarrypoppins @luckyplums1 @logiclies @avoirlu @iunknownveritgo @theflowerpot @anoymousbye @strawbbyjamb @landofdreamsworld @green-beanie @queenofterrasen418 @michovisk @psychwardsiren @green-lxght @smptxx @electric-bloo @acciowolfstar1 @good-night-starlight @never-not-eating @minetticawonderland @idkjj04 @raven-queenworld @marvel-ousnesss @ibong-adarnaaa @answer-the-sirens @harwinstrongwife @writings-i-like @blazinglioness @hallway5 @aprilfooledyou @qhuedie @ryugujii-ken @rebloggalore @rainydaylady420 @crowssixof @moonlight-dragon @severewobblerlightdragon @poohxlove @mrs.tangerinejohnson @jrosefangirl @roguephoenix1 @serenatonin @agentstarkid @lucyysthings

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