#& APPRECIATES ALL HE DOES FOR HER!!! AND HES FINALLY REALIZING HOW MUCH HER HAPPINESS MEANS TO HIM TOO!! AHHHH | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

moonsgemini · 9 months

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dress - ii

summary: rafe is finally able to show his girl just how much she means to him.

warnings: 18+ minors dni, smutty smut, oral (f+m), p in v, smidge of dirty talk, praise kink, rafe, teasing, creampie (hate that), choking (nothing crazy), fluff, fem reader

wc: 3.7k

an: this can be read as a stand alone tbh, also this is my first time writing smut in a while so if it sucks girl I apologize lol I was really losing it towards the end but I pulled through. I TRIED MY BEST PLS

part one

The sunlight seeping through the sheer curtains had gently woken Rafe up. He had been dreaming about her and he wished he could go back to sleep. When he rolled over with his eyes still closed he realized there was someone next to him. He opened his eyes with furrowed brows, his confusion fading once he saw her messy hair sprawled against the pillows. The events of the night before coming back to him.

He smiled to himself feeling content. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to his chest. In her sleep she lightly groaned and pushed up against him. Subconsciously trying to get closer. Rafe could get used to this. The smell of her shampoo filling his senses, the warmth of the sun coming through her window. He didn’t even want to sleep anymore he wanted to be awake to enjoy this moment.

What if she woke up and remembered who he was or his reputation and decided she never wanted to see him again. Maybe the kiss last night was a tipsy mistake.

The girl in his arms began to stir awake breaking him from his thoughts. She hummed as she turned to lie on her back, stretching like a cat before turning to face him. Rafe could have died a happy man then and there as he looked at her sleepy eyes and the lazy smile that formed on her lips when she saw him.

“Morning,” she mumbled, almost shy.

He smiled, “Morning.”

He reached forward and brushed her hair out of her face, he wanted to see all of her. A comfortable silence fell over them as they both just observed each other. She couldn’t believe she had this greek god in her bed. Her friends were going to kill her but she didn’t care.

“So what’s for breakfast?” She asked innocently, hinting that she didn’t want the day with him to end yet.

Rafe pretended to think, “hmmm I can think of few things that sound good,” he smirked.

“Oh yeah like what?” She definitely didn’t get his innuendo.

He moved quickly to hover over her, he used his knee to nudge her legs open so he could rest between them. His arms on either side of her head supporting himself up. The closeness made her face get hot. She was suddenly aware that he wasn’t wearing a shirt and he only had boxers on. She was in some tiny shorts and a tank top. She was grateful she didn’t wake up with a boob hanging out.

“I believe I owe you an act of appreciation,” He smirked and placed a soft kiss against her cheek. She closed her eyes and swallowed thickly, he was going to be the death of her.

“What does that have to do with breakfast?” She asked in a breathy whisper. She felt like if she talked too loud she would ruin the moment.

He placed a kiss on her other cheek, her forehead, and then her chin, “Well I see a very sweet meal in front of me. I’ve been dying to get a taste,” he placed on last kiss on her neck. This one lasting a little longer.

Her eyes fluttered closed savoring the contact, “You’re so cheesy,” She laughed softly.

“You turn me into a romantic,” He smiled genuinely and she reciprocated it.

Rafe leaned down to finally place a kiss on her lips. It was just as good as the night before, the kiss feeling like electricity. He sighed like he was finally breathing fresh air. The kiss started out soft and gentle but quickly turned into something more passionate. Like he wanted to make up for all the time they haven’t been doing this. Her hands found purchase in his hair. Tugging at the short strands when his tongue began poking into her mouth.

She had been dying to know what he tasted like and after finding out last night that he was even better than she imagined, she was addicted. She didn’t even care if she had morning breath because it didn’t seem like Rafe cared. One of his hands moved down to her waist. Rubbing up and down, his thumb catching onto her tank top and tugging it slightly. Her skin felt like it was on fire as he touched her. She moved one of her legs to wrap around his hips to tug him closer to her. Rafe hummed in satisfaction.

His hand moving to her hips and legs, touching as much skin as he could. He’d been dreaming of this for so long he wanted to savor it. Take advantage of having her here and feel as much of her as he could. He moved his lips back down to her neck needed to catch his breath.

She let out a small moan as he kissed that spot below her ear. It was like he knew exactly what to do. His kisses started moving lower. He sat up on bis knees and placed his hands on either side of her shirt. Looking at her to ask for permission, he didn’t want to mess this up. He wanted to be perfect for her. She nodded her head quickly, wanting to be naked already.

Rafe tugged her shirt off and lost his breath. He could have cum then and there. She was better than his dreams. She started getting timid as he kept staring at her. She’s slept with people before but it was never like this, no one ever actually looked at her.

He leaned forward and pressed teasing kisses on her stomach working his way up her torso. He cupped her breast in his large hand, his thumb moving back and forth over her nipple gently. He kissed in between her breasts before moving his mouth to the one that wasn’t getting attention. He kissed around it before he wrapped his lips around her nipple, his tongue moving back and forth languidly. He’d switch from licking to gently sucking. She was in heaven, feeling an immense amount of pleasure over something so simple.

“Fuck,” She muttered softly. Arching her back on the mattress to somehow get closer to him.

“You’re amazing,” He muttered as his mouth traveled back up her body. Reaching her lips once again he kissed her with meaning.

Rafe’s hand moved down to her shorts. His fingers skimmed over the top of them, fingers slipping teasingly under the band. He moved to sit back on his knees, he looked at her and groaned at the sight. Her pretty lips were swollen and her chest was moving up and down at a faster pace. Her hair messy around her. He wished he could take a picture but he knows he’ll never forget how she looks in this moment.

He began to rub her thighs before grabbing her shins and pushing her legs up so her knees were bent. He looked at her core seeing how the fabric pulled tightly against her heat. He could tell she wasn’t wearing underwear and he just couldn’t believe he was getting to have his way with her.

She had been struggling below him. Wanting him to do anything, she felt her pussy ache as he just watched her with a dazed expression. She could feel how wet she was already, she had began clenching around nothing. Just the thought of Rafe was enough to turn her on.

She sighed weakly speaking up, “Rafe please do something.”

He looked up at her and smirked, “Patience baby. Good girls are patient.” He rubbed his hands all around the expanse of her thighs. When he’d rub her inner thighs he’d purposely rub his fingers against her clit pretending it was an accident. His hands felt like heaven on her, she was so turned on any contact from him was sending her over the edge.

After what felt like hours he splayed his hand across her groin and his thumb hovered over her center. He teasingly rubbed light circles over the fabric. He could see a small wet patch in the middle of her shorts. It was feeding his ego to know she was this attracted to him. He felt like he didn’t deserve her, she was a goddess in his eyes. Everything about her was so perfect to him, even the way her body reacted to him was perfect.

“Fuck I can’t believe it’s taken us this long,” He pressed his thumb down harder making slow circles.

“I’ve wanted you for so long baby. Have wanted to make you feel good for so long,” His words and the movement of his hands caused jolts of pleasure to go through her body. She felt like she was on cloud nine.

“Oh Rafe I’ve needed you for so long,” She sighed opening her eyes to find him already looking at her. He had been watching her reactions enjoying how good he was making her feel.

She let out a small wine when he pulled his hand away but then he swiftly moved one of her legs to the other side and pulled off her shorts. He put her leg back to where it was so he was in between them again. He positioned her back to how she was with her feet flat on the bed. He licked his lips, saliva pooling in his mouth as he gaped at her glistening pussy. He had never seen anything so beautiful.

“Baby you’re so gorgeous,” He mumbled as he moved lower on the bed to lay on his stomach. His face now level with her hips. He kissed the inside of her thighs beginning from the top of the knee to where her legs met her groin. He did this on each side wanting to savor her.

She felt like she was being worshipped with the way he kissed her and touched her. Like he thought she was better than him and needed to be indulged and savored. Rafe used two fingers to run through his slit, his fingers getting coated in her arousal as he rubbed between her folds. The squelching sound turning him on even more if it was possible. Rafe felt drunk off of her.

He almost missed the pretty sounds that were leaving her mouth because he was so concentrated on the area that needed him most. She moaned and whined at the feeling of his fingers running over her. Her hands were gripping his hair. He pulled away and wrapped each of his hands around each of her thighs to spread her even wider.

Rafe leaned his head against her inner thigh as he went back to rub her clit in that way that made her eyes roll back. He would do that then move his fingers down to run through her folds to gather her wetness. He teasingly pushed the tips of his fingers into her. She let out a louder moan at this. He couldn’t wait to be inside of her. But he also wanted to tease her for as long as possible.

“You like that?” He asked not looking up at her too concentrated on rubbing circles on her clit. His other hand, that wrapped around the leg he was leaning on, reached up to cup her breast. The feeling of his fingers tweaking her nipple lightly was sending her closer to the edge.

“You’re so wet for me, you’re such a good girl.” He said turning to kiss her thigh lightly. He moved his fingers down her slippy folds teasingly until he got to her entrance again.

“Always wanna be good for you Rafe,” She whined trying to lift hips up to his fingers. If he would just put them inside of her already she’d come in two seconds.

He smiled as he slowly pushed two fingers into her, “You are good my love, the best.” He murmured as he watched some of her arousal drip down his fingers as he pushed farther in.

She was tight and warm, his dick aching in his boxers to be inside of her. But he could wait. He moved his fingers in and out slowly. His fingers curving up getting that spot that made her back arch and moans fall unabashedly from her lips. She could never reach it herself and no other partner had tried. But Rafe’s long fingers were perfect, he knew her body already.

He started to pick up the pace as her moans got louder. He could feel her walls squeezing him and that wet sounds of his movements never stopping. He lifted his head from his position and leaned forward wrapping his lips around her clit. He continued with his fingers as well.

She moaned loudly, “Oh shit I’m about to cum babe.” Her eyes were closed not being able to keep them open because of the pleasure. That fire in her stomach suddenly exploded and a tingling feeling over took her whole body. Her back arched off the bed, her legs squeezing around Rafe’s head as he relentlessly sucked and licked.

He started to slow down once she had come down from her high. He slowly removed his fingers but continued to clean her with his mouth. Not wanting to miss a single drop. After he lifted himself up to be on top of her again.

“Open,” Rafe said as he hovered over her.

Eager to obey she opened her mouth and he placed the two fingers that were inside of her on her tongue. She closed her mouth and moaned at the taste of herself on his fingers. She closed her eyes and sucked on his fingers licking him clean.

“Good girl,” He leaned down and kissed her. Her hips lifted up as she felt the tip of his dick in his boxers rub against her core. She needed him but she also wanted to make him feel good.

She pulled away and pushed his chest, “Lay down please,” she said softly knowing she would get her way with how she was looking at him. With big innocent eyes, ones he couldn’t say no to. He got off of her and laid next to her. She followed him and got on top.

y/n sat directly on his dick. His hard length pressed against her dripping core. She moaned closing her eyes leaning her head back. The feeling of him against her core was sending her over the edge. Any touch from him was making her feel like she was on fire. She leaned down to kiss him. Her hips slowing moving to grind against him, the friction causing a satisfied moan to break their kiss.

“I need to be inside of you,” Rafe said roughly, his hands gripping her hips. He pressed her down harder against him wanting more.

She kissed his chin then pressed a few kisses across his neck. Rafe closed his eyes and savored her gentleness. She continued to kiss down his chest as she moved lower. Her hands following as well as they felt the expanse of his muscular chest and torso.

She tugged at his boxers, “But I want to take care of you first,” She had a mischievous look in her eye. One that made Rafe swallow roughly.

“oh sweet girl,” He sighed, “You’re too good to me. Gonna wrap your pretty mouth around my cock?” He reached down and cupped her her face. His thumb stroking back and forth before it started tugging on her bottom lip. Y/n leaned forward with an open mouth taking and sucking on his thumb. Her tongue swirled back and forth and Rafe could have came just with that.

He knows he won’t last long if he lets her go down on him but he can’t find any words to say. Especially not when her ass is in the air as she hovers over him. Her big eyes staring up at him eager to please, how was he supposed to not let her do this?

She took his silence as a good sign and continued tugging his boxers off. His length came out slapping against his stomach. Her mouth watered at the sight, she had never wanted to please someone so badly.

She licked a stripe on the underside of his cock. Rafe let out a sigh, it felt like torture in the best way. She spit in her hand before wrapping it around him, her hand moving up and down as she got it wet. She leaned forward and took the tip into her mouth, teasing him by sucking and licking softly.

His hips moved up trying to get her to take more of him. She was killing him, he had never felt this good. She took more of him and her mouth. Threw her teasing out the window and bobbed her head up and down taking him in her mouth. Rafe groaned at the feeling of her wet warm mouth. His hands reached down to wrap around her hair and hold a makeshift pony tail. Rafe felt immediately close once he saw her swollen lips around him with drool dripping down her chin. Her eyes watering from taking him deep.

He pushed her away abruptly trying to catch his breath, “I’m literally going to cum if you don’t stop that, and I have a lot I still want to do to you.” He smirked standing up on knees and going behind her.

Rafe pushed her gently forward. Y/n went up the bed and bent over. Her ass in the air with her core on full display for him. He could see that she was still wet as her folds glistened, his ego inflated at the thought of her getting wet from giving him head. He leaned forward and wrapped his lips around her clit. He sucked gently before licked a few stripes across all of her.

He pulled away and slapped her ass. She moaned softly at the feeling shaking her hips and pushing herself towards him. Rafe grabbed his length and gave himself a few pumps before lining himself up with her entrance. He pushed forward slowing getting inside of her. They both moaned at the different feelings of pleasure. He was stretching her so good she couldn’t help but roll her eyes back.

He rubbed his hands all over her ass as he continued to push inside of her at a slow pace, “You’re so tight baby. So wet too fuck,” Now fully inside of her he leaned his head back at the feeling, “I’ve been obsessed with you since we met.”

He began to move his hips back and forth slowly, “Rafey you feel so good inside,” She moaned. He began to pick up the pace wanting her to be louder for him. He was hitting every spot she needed.

The room was being filled with the sounds of their moans and their skin slapping. Rafe had been waiting for so long for this and it was even better than he imagined. He couldn’t wait to give her what she deserves outside of the bedroom. He wanted to buy her everything she needed, would even get her a new house if she asked. He couldn’t wait to please her in every way.

Reaching forward he grabbed her shoulder and pulled her up so her back was against his chest. The new angle he was fucking her at felt incredible. She leaned her head back laying on his shoulder, he brought his hand around her placing it over her neck.

Rafe was in heaven, he felt like the luckiest guy in the world by being able to have her like this. His other hand reached down her stomach until his fingers were over her clit. He gathered some of her arousal and began moving his fingers in circles. An unbelievable amount of please ran through her body. She started to feel that familiar knot in her stomach start to get tighter and tighter.

“Rafe I’m g-gonna cum,” She was able to mumble out through moans. Her mind was a mess and her vision was hazy. All she could think about and focus on was Rafe. Her body fell forward so her lower half was back on the bed.

“Cum for me baby,” He said gruffly into her ear doing his best not to cum yet. She let out a loud moan telling him she was cumming. Her face was buried into the mattress muffling her cries. He felt her walls tighten around him and he groaned, leaning his head back at the feeling. He slowed his pace as she finished.

Rafe fully pulled out and gently moved her to lay on her back. He wasted no more time and pushed into her once again. She let out a gasp at the feeling of him. Rafe began to thrust in and out of her. The wet sounds from her arousal getting him even closer. Rafe groaned at the sight of her, he leaned forward and captured her lips in his.

Their tongues danced against each other. Her hands running through his hair and scratching at his back when he’d hit that particular spot inside her. She arched her back, their faces still close together. She really liked Rafe and she really hoped this would be a one time thing.

“Ah shit where do you want me to cum?” He asked as he felt himself close to finishing.

“Inside, fuck I’m gonna cum,” She whined as she felt her whole body go tingly. Her whole body on fire. She couldn’t lie that if her head wasn’t so dizzy she’d say somewhere else but she needed him in every way. And she was on birth control.

“Fuck,” Rafe’s pace picked up as he came inside of her. After finishing he slowed down, breathing heavily. He pulled out gently and laid next to her.

y/n turned to lay her head on his chest. His heart was pounding, hearing it made a small smirk appear on her lips. They didn’t speak for a couple of minutes just enjoying the silence and being close to each other.

“I really like you if I haven’t made that clear enough,” Rafe said breaking the silence.

She laughed, “I really like you Rafe. I have for a while.”

“I’m sorry it took so long for me to do something,“ He ran his fingers through her hair.

She turned to look up at him, “We’re together now.”

He smiled and leaned down to kiss her, “Will you let me take you out somewhere nice tonight?”

“Yes of course,” She kissed one more time barely being able to because she couldn’t stop smiling.

tags: @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @kw13cheer @weareatthebadlands (if I missed you I apologize!!)

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron series #rafe cameron x reader #rafe fic #rafe cameron au #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x you #rafe imagine

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peachypinkygloss · 9 months

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hello! for the 2k celebration: how about brothers bff!jk x reader (where jk has had a crush on Jimin’s big sis foreverrrrrr & now that they’re older he wants her to see him as a man) <3 all I can think of is seven jk w his tattoos & hair & abs!!! anyways happy 2k 💖💖💖 MWAH

thank you so much!! 💕 mwah 💋 x

big boy

You finally fall for Jungkook's charms.

pairing: brother's best friend!jungkook x fem!reader

genre: brother's best friend au

warnings: implied age gap, jk's needy but also kind of cocky??, she touches his abs lol, 600 words.

a.n.: ok like HE'S NEEDy but this is how i like it 😏 laundromat jk is my fav 🤞🏻

This is part of my 2k milestone celebration! Here is the post for the drabble game! 🤍 (requests are closed!!)

♡・2k celebration masterlist・♡

"Jungkook," you say his name a bit in a scolding way, but the smile gracing your features tells otherwise. You pull your clothes out of the drier, folding them neatly on top of the machine before dropping them in your basket. "I don't know, it's... it's not-"

He interrupts you as you stay indecisive, his eyes round and so, so filled with hope. He helps you fold your clothes while you're talking together. This time he stops after having dropped your folded jeans in the basket, gently grabbing your bicep to make you face him.

"Just... why not?" He softly asks, your eyes finally meeting him. You still haven't folded the piece of clothing you're holding, but you look at him anyway. "One date, that's it! Nothing more if you don't want to, but if you want... you know I wouldn't mind," he grins and you can't help but do the same.

You sigh, defeated, because there's really nothing holding you back other than yourself. You would like to, but you keep overthinking.

"But what happens after? You'll still be friends with Jimin and..." You bite down on your lip, stopping mid-sentence, not sure what you're worrying about exactly.

The past, maybe. The implications, the consequences, how you'll see yourself after that. Things with Jungkook started being different when you came back for the summer break. You haven't seen him in years because you were studying abroad and seeing him again is, to say the least, special.

Jungkook is someone very loyal, he stayed in contact with your brother and made plans the minute he knew Jimin was back in town for the summer.

The loyalty he has for your brother you would have never noticed it before, but now it does something to you. You like it, you like that he doesn't forget years of friendship, that it still means a lot to him.

"And what? Jimin's a big boy," Jungkook justifies. "And so am I," he adds, making you smile. He is a big boy, that's for sure. "We'll handle it."

You look into his eyes when he says those words, staring back at you with a serious expression. He often laughs, but you know it when he speaks seriously, like right now.

You think for a moment, a short moment, comparing the pros and cons. You realize the cons are just things you worry could happen, that you're not even sure they would end up being true. Thinking twice, you don't think it's worth it to rely on the cons.

"The real question is... can you handle me?" You flirt and Jungkook surely likes this.

He smirks, his eyes looking at you up and down. Before, he would have responded no, that he can't handle you, that you're too good — too much — for him.

But now, heck yes he can.

He steps closer and takes your right hand, a stupid little grin on his face. "Can you..." He begins, passing your hand under his tank top, your fingers brushing against his abs. "Handle that?"

You're surprised, but you appreciate how he's blunt with you, not scared at all to shoot his shot. You voluntarily don't take your hand away immediately, though you remember you're not exactly in a private place.

"Jungkook!" You scold, but still giggle it off.

"Don't reject me," he pouts, and he genuinely looks sad.

You sigh again, knowing you don't really want to refuse his proposition. You enjoy his presence, he's funny and he always manages to make you laugh even when you're not feeling well.

He's an adult and so much more mature than other guys your age. He's attractive, so kind and attentive. He's a good man and Jungkook's right, it doesn't matter what others will think — aka Jimin.

"Okay. Go for a date."

#🍑 [drabble game]#requests #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts drabble #bts imagines #bts scenarios #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook drabble #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook imagines

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the-likesofus · 1 year

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Buddie Fic Recs

AKA Talented Mutuals Tuesday

Except I spent so long making this list that the timezones changed over BUT I wanted to show my mutuals some love and now that we are going into the hiatus I thought you might all like a list of quality fics to keep you occupied while there is no new Weewoo show.

I don't know if anyone will actually want to join in on this but if you do the rules are simple:

SHOW YOUR MUTUALS SOME LOVE! Share your favourite fics, (or gifs, edits, literally anything that your very talented mutuals have made), as many or as few as you like but let's share the love around <3

Apologises in advance for the long post btw

@speaknowdiaz I would literally read anything that April writes and would probably sell a limb for the incredible WIPs I know she's still cooking up but here are a couple of my faves:

pining and anticipation (I don't want you like a best friend)

Buck challenges Eddie to try to hit on him after teasing Eddie for not having any ‘game’. This fic is very funny and very soft.

believe in one thing (i won't go away)

This fic hit me straight in the feels. Buck and Eddie go to couples therapy even though they aren't a couple and they work through some stuff.

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@thosetwofirefighters Incredible amazing Nat ily xx

Say It All Out Loud

Eddie comes out to Aunt Pepa after his ‘date’ with Vanessa. I am a little bit biased towards this one because she did write it for me but it's honestly just so good!

How to Cure Boredom: Buckley Edition

The 118 are stuck at the firehouse during a slow shift and Buck entertains them all by mattress-surfing the loft stairs. It’s soft and silly and in the same universe as her other fic Safe in His Arms.

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@loveyourownsmiilee The wonderful amazing Juju not only writes incredible meta and keeps us all fed with Oliver content but Juju also writes wonderful buddie fic.

When Were You Under Me?

Who doesn’t love a Friends AU. This is Buck and Eddie as Ross and Rachel and it is hilarious and so sweet.

You should also check out her Buddie Language Meta if you have not read it before <3

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@elvensorceress Jenwyn’s work always astounds me so be sure to check these out:

Color Him Father, Color Him Love

I will scream from the rafters how much I adore this fic and yes it did make me cry (happy tears). It’s a look into Buck’s head after his sperm donor kid is born and he realizes what Christopher (and Eddie) truly mean to him. I know I have recced this before but it deserves all the love.

Unless You Ask Me To

Eddie dates a man for the first time, and Buck is completely 'Fine'. This is a preemptive rec because it is one chapter away from completion and I have been saving it to binge in one sitting but knowing Jenwyn and her incredible talent I guarantee this will be worth the read.

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@spotsandsocks If anyone’s work is guaranteed to make me sob like a baby (happy, sad, or tears of laughter) it’s Spotty.

Everything But (temptation)

This is Spotty’s newest fic and it's just brilliant. Buck is practicing extreme self-control whilst Eddie is being an irresistible menace.

Could Have, Should Have, Would Have

Buck finally tells Eddie he loves him right before Eddie’s new boyfriend is supposed to meet Christopher. Honestly, all I can say about this fic is that it’s a masterpiece and I screamed many times while reading it.

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@shortsighted-owl Wonderful amazing Owly (Abbi). I appreciate you so and you make my dash so happy xx

Of foam-moustached kisses, and button combinations

For all your sweet domestic buddie needs this is the fic. Eddie is practicing a video game to get better than Chris and Buck makes fun of his ex-technophobe boyfriend.

Also THIS EDIT SET to the lyrics of You’re All That I Have by Snow Patrol make me assdffgghjjklkll

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@lilbuddie Okay, this one is just a brag because Minja doesn’t actually have any fics published yet (side eye) but I wanna make sure she is on everyone’s radar for when she does because yall are not ready for the incredible amazing talent that is this girl’s writing!! So go check out the snippets on her Tumblr and badger her until she finishes something plssssss

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@wheelsupin-five Hi! <3

Almost Almost Almost

This adorable of Buck who is always cold and Eddie warms him up I– asfffghhjkklllll

Under Kitchen Light

SO SOFT! Buck wakes up and Eddie isn't there, Buck finds him in the kitchen.

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@rogerzsteven Simi owns my heart and by that I mean my heart is locked in a cage in Simi’s basement where it is occasionally beaten to a pulp by the most incredibly angsty fics you've ever read.

Cleanse

Buck is extremely nauseous and Eddie takes care of him while I sob over them in a corner.

build me a home underground (free from light and sound)

This fic is so brutal in all the best ways, my heart was in my throat the entire read! Buck gets trapped in a sensory deprivation room while the 118 and Athena race to find him.

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@ashavahishta another incredibly talented mutual of mine

out of ashes

Is it really a Meegs rec list if I don’t rec this fic honestly it's engraved on my soul. This is a criminal minds/greys inspired fic where Buck is kidnapped and tortured until the 118 can find him. This fic is so so well written and means a million things to me I could never explain but pleaseeeee read it!!

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@jobairdxx hello lovely xx

Oh, We Pray to Make it Through the Night

Highly recommend this fic, I do love a near-death experience fic! Buck gets injured on a call and Eddie falls asleep holding vigil at his bedside.

Jules also writes beautiful poetry on Tumblr so go read some of that too <3

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@monsterrae1 MISS RAE! YOU INCREDIBLE THING! <3

love is on its way

I know we’re all a little bit in mourning over the couch theory but it lives on in our hearts and in this fic which has six moments between Buck and Eddie on the Diaz couch (and she’s a wee bit spicy too).

Buck's café (take my heart, just not my order)

Coffee Shop AU. Buck runs the shop where the 118 order all their drinks on shift. I absolutely adore this fic!

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@alyxmastershipper RYAN!! INCREDIBLY TALENTED MUTUAL THAT YOU ARE!!

there's always been a rainbow hangin' over your head

If “aasdsdfghhjkl” was a person it was me reading this fic. Eddie comes out to Buck, receives a quirky mug, and gets together with the love of his life. In that order.

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@bekkachaos Wonderful, amazing Bekka xxx

lose yourself in the feeling

I am a sucker for ‘accidental kisses’ and this was just wonderful. Buck is so excited about Maddie and Chim getting engaged that he kisses Eddie when he tells him.

start me up, open my eyes

Okay, the mild sexual content tag is a lie, nothing has ever been closer to smut without actually being smut than this fic, I have never been so wound up reading a fic. Bekka builds the tension so so well.

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@sibylsleaves honestly I'm still a little in shock that we're mutuals now so please excuse me while I fangirl over your incredible writing!

with a bird at your door

Eddie starts spending all his time with Buck. Which would be fine if it weren't for the fact that Buck is in love with him. This fic is the perfect mixture of pining, angst, and a happy ending. And yes I think about this fic frequently I love it okay.

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@mysteriouslyyounggalaxy last but certainly not least (for now). hello lovely xx

(tell the gravedigger) better dig two

Missing scenes from while eddie is trapped in the well followed by the most perfect extended reunion scene. We all know I am a sucker for fics based on the well incident, it’s literally how i started writing for buddie but omg this fic!!!!

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Remember to share the love around and happy hiatus to you all.

Love, Meegs xxxx

#buddie #buddie fic #buddie fic recs #buddie rec list #911 fox #eddie diaz #evan ‘buck’ buckley #christopher diaz #911 buddie #eddie x buck #buck x eddie #911 fic #911 fic recs #meegs says stuff #buddie ao3 #911 ao3 #buddie recs list 4 #talented mutuals tuesday #911 abc

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endless-ineffabilities · 1 year

Text

in the shadow of your heart (part two of two)

Daemon Targaryen x f!Reader

requested by anon: inspired by the plot of the movie Flipped, where the reader openly pines for Daemon, but he always brushes her off until one day, she stops bothering him.

word count: 11.2k ▪︎ part one ▪︎ masterlist

themes: pining, angst, language, Daemon being Daemon, slight Cregan Stark x f!reader, some smut (18+)

“Greetings, Prince Daemon.” Cregan Stark is the first to speak. His genial manner is something that draws everyone to him, warm and earnest. The Lord of the North is much beloved, and with good reason. As he assesses Prince Daemon, he easily notices the agitation in the prince’s stance. The confusion in his eyes. If Cregan also notices the subtle envy collecting in Daemon’s expression, he does not let it show.

“Lord Stark,” he saunters in your direction, slowly, like a predator who has finally cornered his prey. Taking in the competition like a practiced fighter.

“Lady Y/n.” He calls you by name, and you realize how much of a rarity it is. It’s always just You, a statement more than an endearment, or my little shadow. You still don’t know what to make of the latter. Shadow. Does that mean you are indispensable, a part of him he can never shake? Or does he see you as an unwanted presence?

“Daemon. How have you been, my prince?” An attempt at cordiality from you. You know Daemon doesn’t care much for such dialogue, but what else is there to say?

Why did you not show up at my nameday, like you promised?

Have you been finding comfort in Mysaria’s arms?

Have I even crossed your mind, even once, or is my absence something that you welcome?

But you don’t make any of these thoughts heard. You don’t believe there would be a point. Besides, there is no need to air out your grievances whilst in the company of Cregan.

“I don’t know, my lady. Perhaps you could enlighten me. I have roamed nearly every inch of the palace grounds, and I’ve only just found you. You have not come to see me as of late, either.”

“I was not aware that you were expecting me, my prince.”

He scoffs, hating how formal you were being. Was this a show you were putting on for the Stark boy? Where are your throwaway smiles and your playful quips? Your appreciative gaze, drinking him in as if it were always the first time?

Cregan comes to your rescue, “I’m afraid I may be to blame for taking up the lady’s time, Prince Daemon. She makes for excellent company, as I think you know. She’s kindly been showing me around King’s Landing.”

“You’ve been around King’s Landing before, Stark. We were not aware you have taken a particular interest in the ins and outs of the city, but we’d be more than happy to provide you with our best maester to tell you everything you need to know. I’m sure the lady has much better things to do with her time. Besides, after a while, you might like a change of scenery. One that she wouldn’t know how to provide.”

What in the seven hells is that supposed to mean? Of course, the first time you meet in a long while, Daemon has surely stored some kind words to tell you.

“Don’t worry, Daemon. I can assure you that we’ve been making good use of our time together,” you look at him directly, no longer bothering with the niceties. Daemon knows how you really are, after all. He’s seen you flustered, embarrassed, angry. Mostly, he’s seen you pining. Wanting. For him. You’ve always been open around him, not holding anything back. Daemon enjoyed your brazenness, so unlike the other frilly maidens who clamber for his attention. But what changed?

“If you don’t mind, Lord Stark, I’d like a moment alone with the lady.” Daemon readily meets your gaze, barely giving mind to Cregan, who is now halfway covering you from his vision, as if preparing to protect you from him should the need arise. The nerve of this fucking Northern Lord.

“Honour demands that I only leave if this is what the lady wishes, Prince Daemon.” Cregan declares, his voice steady.

Bloody Northerners and their honour. “I was not presenting you with a request, Stark. Try not to get on my nerve.”

“Alright,” you speak up, “it’s okay, Cregan. I’ll come find you later.”

Daemon notes the familiarity with which you addressed the Stark boy, and it doesn’t sit well with him. “Yes, run along, young wolf.” He doesn’t drop your gaze, doesn’t watch Cregan walk away.

So, he also does not notice Cregan throw you a comforting wink as he disappears from view, leaving you with Daemon on the rooftop. Daemon’s mood considered; this is probably for the best.

The air is thick with words unsaid, and while Daemon relaxes his stance, his face betrays a storm of emotion. Ones that he is not equipped to deal with. Jealousy? Unrequited yearning? Uncertainty? What can he possibly say that would be enough? So he settles for, “You look well, my shadow.”

“As do you, my prince. Enjoying the comforts of home, I’d hope?”

“Tell me this,” Daemon impatience flares, “why have I not seen you around? They used to be rare, the days in which you would not simply make your presence known to me.”

“That’s why I got to be called your shadow, was it not? That I was always following you around like a pest, driving you to irritation. There were moments wherein I could swear that I saw you grimace at my arrival - ”

“A pest?” He looks taken aback. He reaches for your arm, but you sidestep and fold your arms behind you, “Y/n, where is all this coming from?”

“I think you know quite well, Daemon.”

“Would it delight you to hear that I may have missed your company, no matter how unreasonably persistent it might have been?” Daemon’s smirk is dangerous, capable of breaking through your icy approach.

“Unreasonably persistent? Is this your way of making amends, my prince? You might need a lesson in tact from your markedly more diplomatic brother.”

“I was never one to bother with needless flattery. Unless directed at me, of course.” His smirk grows even wider, enjoying the resurgence of your familiar banter.

Your tone turns sour, almost angry even, one that Daemon has not heard before, “You promised that you would attend my nameday festivities, and yet you did not. I waited for you, like the stupid little shadow that you have deemed me to be, and for nothing. I don’t know why I even expected you to come, given what you clearly think of me.” Your voice breaks at the end, and it snags at Daemon’s heart.

“I did not think you cared much for such frivolities, and…well, I…”

“No, I did not. I don’t. I only cared whether you would be there, so that I might see you. So that you might greet me with the smug smirk of yours. So that you might even ask me for a dance,” you pace around Daemon, your mind lost in thought of what could have been, “But no matter. It’s all over and done with now. We can keep such nonsense in the past, Prince Daemon. You no longer need to waste your time with me.”

“Y/n,” he says your name with such clarity, such emotion, as he moves to narrow the space between the two of you, “I sincerely apologize if I was not there for your nameday. Had I thought that my presence would mean that much to you, then I surely would have come.”

That’s not enough, Daemon. That’s not what I need.

You notice the sincerity in his eyes as he continues, “I don’t want you to be cross with me. And… I don’t want you to think that I… think little of you. You are not. You are - ”

“You were like my sun, you know. My entire world revolved around you. You were in everything that I could see.” Your face morphs into a mixture of sadness, and longing, and acceptance. Daemon notes that you were speaking of things as if it were already in the past, and he does not like it at all.

He lets you continue, even though it pains him to see the turmoil in your expression, “Daemon, I… I thought about you when I woke, and when I went to bed. You were intoxicating… and fucking infuriating, because you clearly did not share the same sentiment when it came to me. I was simply there.”

“Listen, I don’t know what you fucking expect of me,” he counters, not willing to comprehend that your words can bring him to fold so quickly, “but you know exactly who I am. What I am, my shadow.”

“Did I not make it clear to you just how I felt?” You ask. Your gazes are locked and heated. The distance between you has narrowed, and he can feel your warm breath on his face. He notices the way your chest rises and falls, the slope of your breasts, the furrowing of your eyebrows which he finds endearing. You stand so close, an alluring distraction, nearly making him lose all train of thought.

“For fuck’s sake, of course. Everyone could see it!” He snaps, raising his voice at you.

“And yet, it did not matter.”

“No, it matters - ” he pauses, looking away, “I just… don’t know…”

You straighten, “You know what, it’s perfectly fine, Daemon. Why were you looking for me?”

“I thought I already mentioned. I was wondering where you’ve been all this time. Whatever wrongs you believe I have done to you, it was never my intention. I do not wish to be rid of your presence. It does not…” When his eyes capture yours once again, you see the inner turmoil reflected within, “It does not feel right without you around… my shadow.”

You want so badly to take his hand as you had done so many times before, and reassure him that everything is fine. But Rhaenyra’s advice had struck you, so well that it rings true in your mind as you look at Daemon. “Make him hunger for you,” she had said, eyes glinting mischievously, “so that he may realize what it is he may be at risk of losing, if he does not get his act together. And, well, if he still does not treat you as you deserve, then surely someone else will.”

You would have chased Daemon to the ends of the Seven Kingdoms, but you can only pursue someone so far before you might tip over the edge of the world yourself.

“I understand, Daemon. I am not angry at you. Truthfully, I don’t think I could ever be.” You offer a comforting smile, but it does not reach your eyes.

“Very well, then. On the morrow, I shall once again conduct my training in the courtyard. I expect you to be there.”

When you narrow your eyes at his implication, he adds, softly, “I mean, I want you to be there.”

You smile, and echo his exact words from weeks ago, when you gave word to him about your festivities, “I’d be loathe to miss a good training display of yours, my prince. I’ll be there.”

There may be a lot more than needs to be said, that Daemon wants to say. But he cannot find the words. He is not even certain what it is that compelled him to seek you out today. Or if he is, he is not ready to face it yet.

“I shall take my leave, my prince,” you curtsy, “I’ll be seeing you.”

He watches as you walk away. He is covered in sunlight from where he stands, the wind gently blowing mild and pleasant. And yet he feels cold, and his spirit is strained, as if this unspoken stalemate between the two of you casts a gloom over his days. As if you had taken all warmth along with you.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Daemon swings forcefully, toppling his opponent to the ground.

“Again!” He yells, “I thought you cunts are supposed to be decent fighters, at the very least. And yet even the whores in the Street of Silk might make for better competitors.”

Not one of his gold cloaks makes a move, and they all look at him warily. Their commander has been heated all morning, and they have taken the brunt of his rage.

The spectators have created a wider berth around him than usual, while they mostly whisper to each about the prince’s nasty temper.

One of the braver gold cloaks, Maron Tyrell, decides to approach him, “My prince, perhaps we should conclude our training exercise for today. The men are drained and wish to - ”

“We finish when I say so,” Daemon emphasizes every word in his displeasure, “not at your fucking heed.”

Maron persists, forgetting to mind the risk of talking back to Daemon when he is in this state, “We noticed that a certain Lady is not among the spectators, my prince. Your shadow, I think that is what you deem her to be, and rightfully so, I mean… don’t you think that actually made this morning’s activities more bearable, without her needlessly yapping at you at every-”

Maron does not get to finish his jibe about you, as Daemon pummels the young knight into the ground. His fist collides with Maron’s face, again and again, until he is pulled back by several of his struggling men.

“Prince Daemon!” A cacophony erupts around the courtyard – pleas for him to cease, gasps of shock and worry, even some callous laughter at the absurdity of the situation. The rogue prince has assailed one of his very own men. One of his loyal devotees. An undignified act, even for the volatile prince.

“Get your fucking hands off me,” Daemon squirms out of the grip of his men, and storms out of the courtyard, people parting like waves in his path. His knuckle is bruised and partially covered in Maron Tyrell’s blood. Yet, he cannot bring himself to care.

For what is a man without his shadow? He might as well just be gone.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Lord Mathias Tyrell, the Lord of Highgarden, your Grace." A member of the Kingsguard announces the new arrival, his clear voice resounding in the throne room.

The imposing hall is nearly empty, apart from King Viserys who stands at the foot of the Iron Throne, several members of the Kingsguard, and his Hand, Lord Otto Hightower.

The elderly Tyrell walks in with a dignified air. There is a slight hunch in his posture, but his gaze is trained straight ahead. King Viserys meets him halfway, with a welcoming smile on his face, "My Lord Tyrell, what a pleasure this is, truly."

"My King," Mathias bows his head once, then looks at Viserys again, eager to finally make his appeal known, "I do hope my arrival is not untimely. It has been a while since we last convened, you and I."

"Not at all, Mathias," Viserys says, "I am always at your disposal for any important matter that you wish to bring to my attention, as I understand this is the case at present."

"Yes, well, let me begin by relaying my wife Lady Lenna's well wishes for you, my King. She feels honoured to have been a friend to your late wife Queen Aemma, and we only hope the best for your family."

Viserys nods amiably, accustomed to such flattering declarations from Lords and Ladies alike. He also knows by now that such, while potentially genuine, are usually followed by either a complaint or a petition. As if he was being softened up for what follows.

“Which is why it saddened me greatly to hear that a certain member of your family had attacked one of mine. The inducement of this remains beyond my understanding. My nephew, Maron, a member of your gold cloaks, is currently being attended to by our finest maesters, after suffering several injuries at the hands of Prince Daemon.”

“What?” Viserys’ friendly expression falls, “Daemon?” He looks toward Otto Hightower in hopes of some clarification.

“My King, we have just received word of this incident, and we were planning to discuss this in our council meeting on the morrow. The prince is required to attend, after all, which gives him a chance to elucidate his actions.” Otto explains placatingly.

“Daemon,” Viserys repeats his brother’s name, breathing it out like a curse. It was no longer any surprise to him to hear of such an act committed by his brother. He merely hoped that their occurrences would grow fewer and farther between.

“I knew you would understand the seriousness of this matter, my King. House Tyrell has, after all, always supported House Targaryen since the age of the Conqueror. All I want is for Prince Daemon to answer for what he had done to my nephew, in any way that you see fit.”

Viserys puts on his best placating smile, “Of course, Mathias. It shall be done. Now will that be all? I’m afraid I have some other matters to attend to.”

The Lord of Highgarden does not fail to notice the poorly hidden irritation in the King’s face, and he is quick to be done with the formalities of making himself scarce, exchanging a few choice words before bowing and promptly leaving the throne room.

“Well?” Viserys looks around the throne room, addressing whoever might have answers, “where the fuck is he?”

Otto squirms where he stands, “I can send for him right away, your Grace.”

They will soon realize that Prince Daemon’s whereabouts will elude them that day, as he had taken refuge in the clandestine quarters of the Lady Mysaria after the incident in the courtyard. However, the usual pleasures will not be exchanged between the two. Daemon no longer possesses the eagerness to lose himself in his apparently favoured woman. Mysaria does not press on, letting the prince get some much-needed rest. She does take note of one name uttered from his lips as he succumbs into slumber. Yours.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

The members of the Small Council settle around the table, each one placing their round totem in front of them. The council meeting has begun.

Each Lord sits alert, ready to present their reports and findings for the week. Lord Corlys on the ongoing war in the Stepstones. Lord Beesbury on lowering the common tax for grain. Lord Lannister on arranging a play for the nobility. And so on. At the head of the table, however, their King does not appear to give off his usual air of graciousness. He leans to the side of his chair, routinely running his hand over his face in frustration.

Lord Beesbury speaks up, “Your Grace, shall we start with - ”

“Where is my brother?” Viserys’ voice is irate, his query directed at Lord Otto.

“We summoned him, your Grace, but he made it clear that he had other pressing matters to attend to.” Otto speaks slowly, clearly, in hopes that Viserys does not take his frustration out on him. “He mentioned having to meet with the Lady Y/n,” At this, Otto looks at your father across the table.

“My daughter?” Your father says, “I assure you, your Grace, I am not aware that she has any pressing matter with Prince Daemon. I would not even go so far to say that they are acquaintances.”

“Oh, Lord, you must know,” Tyland Lannister says, almost mockingly.

“Know what, my Lord?” your father asks, incredulous.

“Your daughter has been openly pining for the rogue prince. It’s common knowledge. She has not been shy about her affections, mind you,” Tyland smirks.

“I know nothing of this. My daughter has just begun a courtship with Lord Cregan Stark himself, and this I approve of. It would be unseemly for her to get involved with Prince Daemon in the way that you are insinuating.”

“What is the truth?” Viserys raises his voice, then turning to Otto, he adds, “Have you heard of this development?”

“I did not believe it to be consequential, your Grace. The prince has his share of admirers, after all.” Otto replies.

Viserys sighs heavily, thinking of how things will never just be simple when it comes to his brother. “Well, has he been receptive of the young lady’s affections?”

Lord Beesbury says, “The consensus has been that the prince has largely ignored them, your Grace.”

“Seven hells,” Viserys lets out a dry laugh in disbelief, “How come everyone knows of this matter except for me, the man in question’s own brother?”

“If I may respond to what Lord Beesbury just claimed, it does not seem that way. At least not anymore. Word has been circulating of yesterday’s incident, and apparently, the reason why Prince Daemon assaulted Maron Tyrell is because the latter brought up the subject of Lady y/n, and not in the nicest way.” Tyland says.

Lord Corlys intervenes, “Might we get on with more urgent business, lords?”

Viserys sits silently for a moment, letting all of the information sink in. He looks around the council table, baffled at the ridiculous scenario in front of him – the highest-ranking officials of the Seven Kingdoms prompted to engage in chitchat all because of this whole affair between yourself and Prince Daemon. “My lords,” he finally says, “Lord Corlys is right. We have better things to do with our time than to fucking gossip. I shall deal with my brother myself.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

The same morning, in another corner of the sprawling castle, you stand in your chambers, arranging the books on the shelf. You have just gone on a stroll with Rhaenyra, and are just taking a short rest. You startle slightly when your lady-in-waiting Hestia walks in.

“Good morrow, my lady.”

“To you as well, Hestia.” You smile in return.

“I have a message to relay, my lady,” she timidly says, “Earlier, when you had departed, Prince Daemon visited your chambers.”

You freeze. “Daemon?”

“Y-yes, my lady. I had walked in to change the linens, and he was already sitting there at your desk. Waiting for you, it seemed.”

“And? Did he mention anything to you?” You ask gently.

“He wants to meet you in the godswood, my lady. He said that he will anticipate you there at around noon.”

You note to yourself that noon is fast approaching. “Hmm. I see.” Hestia smiles comfortingly at you, and you can deduce that there is more that she wants to say.

“How did he seem, the prince, whilst he was here?” You engage her further, genuinely curious yourself.

“If I may be blunt, my lady, he seemed quite distressed. He appeared as if he was lacking in rest, and well… he really did seem eager to find you.”

You walk over to your chair and slump down in a dramatic huff, “Ah, it appears that I have found myself in quite the conundrum.”

Hestia smiles, following you, “What a conundrum, though, my lady. Prince Daemon and Lord Cregan vying for your hand? Nearly every eligible lady in all the kingdoms would feel envious of you.”

Your smile is wistful when you say, “It’s not quite the fairy tale that it seems, Hestia. I mean, you know how Prince Daemon is.”

“So it is Prince Daemon whom you favour?”

“What made you think so?”

“Well, I can’t be certain, my lady. It’s just that… he’s the one you chose to mention. His is always the name that you bring up, as opposed to Lord Cregan’s.”

Huh. I really must have been fixated on Daemon, haven’t I, if everyone is still of the impression that I want him, even with Cregan in the picture.

Do I want him?

“My lady?” Hestia’s voice breaks you out of your thoughts, “are you alright?”

“Yes,” you clear your throat, and stand, “I think I have somewhere to be.”

“To meet with Prince Daemon?”

How could I ever not want him?

“Perhaps.” You look back at Hestia, eyes glinting in anticipation, before leaving your chambers.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

You walk through the hallways, still uncertain whether the godswood will be your destination. Whether Daemon will be your destination.

The weather is quite lovely anyway. Why not sit and enjoy some calm in the godswood? Deep down, you know that your reasoning, while sound, is a mere excuse for wanting to see Daemon.

Turning the corner, you see your father coming your way. He calls for you with a wave, and you rush toward him with a smile, “Good morrow, father.” You kiss him lightly on the cheek. “I was just heading to the godswood. Perhaps I shall take a book from the library and - ”

“To meet with Prince Daemon?” Your father's voice is stern, and you become nervous.

You tilt your head, unsure of how to respond. Your father continues, “This matter was brought to my attention, in the council meeting of all places! I felt like a bumbling fool. My own daughter, and I did not know.”

“You’re certainly not a fool, father. And - ”

“How long has this been going on?”

“I’m afraid I don’t follow.” Your brows furrow in frustration.

“This affair between yourself and Prince Daemon. Do you not have any mind for decency? How must this look? Cregan Stark is courting you, and here you are, running around with the rogue prince.” He speaks in hushed whispers, as if he is afraid of being overheard, but the anger in his tone can easily be detected.

“I am not sure what you heard, father, but I am not having an affair with Prince Daemon.” You lean back, also growing irate at his tone.

“Everyone knows, my child. I do know that you are intelligent, and that you mean well, but this - ”

“I was quite… smitten with him. Only that. But it is over now.”

“Is it? Then how come he apparently came to your defense yesterday, assailing Maron Tyrell when he spoke out of turn about you?”

“What?”

“Word has spread, and King Viserys has been saddled with the laborious task yet again of having to make amends on his brother’s behalf.”

“Oh, I didn’t know.” You remember that you meant to visit the courtyard for his training, but instead opted to read with Cregan Stark in the library. You did not think Daemon would particularly mind, and truth be told, you wanted to give a taste of his own medicine. You made your mistake in believing that Daemon might approach it just like anyone else – with a reasonable amount of impatience and irritation. But of course, it’s Daemon.

You want to appease your father’s worries, so you say, “The next time I see Daemon, I shall make things clear. There will no longer be anything between him and I. Not that there ever was anything before.” You can’t help but look away sadly, but then your father pulls you in for a hug.

“I trust that you will do the right thing. Lord Cregan is a man of true honour and kindness. You deserve someone like him.”

“I know.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Moments later, just before you make a turn into the open area of the godswood, someone catches you by the elbow.

“Hello, lass.” Cregan says. “I am happy to see you.”

“Cregan,” you attempt to hide your surprise with a smile, “ perhaps you were simply following me?”

“That idea did cross my mind, yes,” he jests in return, “but I’d much rather have you aware of my presence so you can indulge yourself in my undeniable charm.”

“Ever so humble, my Lord of the North.” You have grown accustomed to his witty quips, easily shared, making whoever he converses with comfortable. When you had mentioned it, he assured you however that the doting glint in his eyes is reserved for you only.

“Having a good day so far?” He draws you in close by the waist, his sincere gaze boring into yours.

“Very much so, thank you. I was just about to, uhm, spend some time in the godswood.”

“I shall accompany you then, my lady, if you would allow me.”

“Oh, I - ”

“There you are.” You turn towards the familiar voice. Daemon has found you. “I thought I heard you.”

“Ah, Prince Daemon, ever a pleasure.” Cregan loosens his hold on you, but he does not let go. You notice Daemon’s eyes draw downward to Cregan’s arm around your waist, and his jaw clenches.

“Oh, I wish I could say the same, young wolf. But I have been waiting in the godswood for the Lady Y/n, and I can see that you are taking up her precious time. Keeping her from me.” Daemon spits the final words, making his annoyance clear.

“Daemon, I was just about to come see you,” you say.

“I thought you were going to spend time in the godswood?” Cregan looks at you confused.

“Yes, she is,” Daemon chimes in, “with me.”

“Simply to talk.” You start to become anxious with how the two men are sizing each other up, cold expressions plastered on their faces.

“No matter,” Cregan shrugs, “might I accompany you too, my lady?”

“Yes.”

“No.”

You and Daemon speak at the same instant, your contrasting responses putting a pause on the whole exchange. The silence is filled with tension, with Daemon staring at you intently. A slight smirk rests on his lips, and you can tell, he is enjoying this. He takes pleasure in being able to get under your skin.

You might be right, but in that moment, Daemon’s mind also wanders to the smoothness of your skin. The fire in your eyes. His stare grazes your decolletage, exposed by your dress, the very same dress he had disparaged weeks prior. How foolish of me. Anything she wears is immediately more refined as a result. Although I’d much see rather that dress on the fucking floor.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that there is still something between the two of you.” Cregan’s voice cuts through the silence. When you turn to him questioningly, he explains, “I have heard whispers here and there about a possible mutual affection that you share.”

“Prince Daemon and I are merely friends,” you clarify, “and even this I have reason to doubt.” You glare at Daemon, imploring him to not cross the line.

“We are friends,” Daemon grits his teeth, “come with me, Y/n.”

You continue to challengingly stare at Daemon, and any passer-by would immediately feel the tension. They would also be quick to assume that the connection lies between yourself and Daemon, not Cregan. Not that you would be willing to admit it straightaway.

“Forget about the godswood,” you look between both men, “Rhaenyra tells me of a travelling theatre troupe that will be conducting their show in the Red Keep this afternoon. I think I fancy heading over and seeing it for myself.”

You start to walk away, not paying mind to either the dragon or the wolf.

I’m done with this bickering. Let them follow me if they wish.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

After a short period of deliberating and preparing, you find yourself walking the streets of the Red Keep, with Daemon walking close to one side and Cregan to the other.

Hestia follows suit, conversing with Cregan’s young squire, Pod. You had looked back to her to give a comforting smile, and you could tell that she was slightly intimidated by the member of the Kingsguard accompanying your little group. The knight is a looming figure of hunkering armour, walking close behind her and Pod.

Daemon and Cregan both offered an arm for you to hold onto at the start of your stroll, but you avoided the pain of choosing by clasping your hands in front of you, walking forward with your head held high.

You reach the city centre, and Cregan points to a fountain in the middle of the plaza. “I remember when you took me there, darling. We had the most pleasant afternoon.”

Daemon snorts upon hearing that, “The bloody fountain?”

Pod comes up to speak with Cregan about the tasks he has to fulfill for the day, demanding his attention, and they shuffle to the side in discussion.

“Yes, Daemon, the bloody fountain. We sat, had the best lemon cakes, and conversed with the common folk. Activities that are not to your taste, I’m sure,” you matched his sardonic inflection.

“I thought you would have preferred mulberry tarts,” Daemon responds, matter-of-factly.

Your lips part in mild surprise. “How could you have guessed that?”

“You might have mentioned it once, weeks ago.”

“Huh.” You continue to stare at him in disbelief. So he does listen to me.

You had the impression that all those times when you prattled in his ear, your words would simply dissolve into air. Like an incessant tune droning on in the background. Daemon always looked as if he was pondering some other more important thought.

“You continue to surprise me, Daemon.”

“And you never fail to pleasantly disrupt my life at every turn,” he remarks, the corners of his mouth turning upward.

“Since you used the word pleasantly then I shall assume that it’s a good thing. But disrupt? How so?”

He kicks a pebble across the cobblestones, lost in thought, “This is the last thing that I would have ever expected, my shadow.”

You continue to look at him in suspense, your heart thudding in your chest. Try as you might, Daemon still has that effect on you.

He continues, “I never expected to… feel this… about you.”

“Feel what?” He turns to you, and softens at the sight of your innocent expression, your eyes wide and glistening. You’ve always gazed at him in such an open and caring manner, unaffected by the reality of his reputation. Very much unlike other people, who are almost invariably wary or distrustful when dealing with him. He has accepted that he needs someone like you. But recently, it became clearer. He only needed you.

“Prince Daemon,” a familiar soft, accented voice calls out.

The spell is broken. You turn toward the new arrival. The lady Mysaria.

“Good day, my lady,” you greet her reluctantly. You badly wish to move close to Cregan and engage him in conversation, just so you would not be privy to the interaction between Daemon and Mysaria, but something keeps you rooted in place.

“Good day to you as well, lady Y/n.”

“Have you come to watch the performance?” you tilt your head toward the stage that is being set up on one side of the plaza.

“I’m afraid I don’t have the time for such frivolities at present, my lady,” she smiles thinly, before turning to Daemon, “I am glad I found you, my prince. I would have waited until you eventually came to see me again, but since you are here, I want to return this to you.”

She reaches out her hand, and in it lies an ornate ring, decorated with an exquisite blood-red ruby. An inscription in High Valyrian is carved on the band.

Daemon snatches it swiftly, “Right. Good eye.”

“I recognized this to be one of your Targaryen heirlooms. You must have dropped it when you spent the night with me.” She steps closer to him, caressing his arm.

Your heart sinks. What did you expect – that Daemon would ever commit to you? He has been making gestures that are unusual for him, giving you just the slightest hint of hope. And now, this.

He was right. You do know exactly who he is. What he is. The lady Mysaria can be taken as confirmation of this.

“Would you excuse me?” you clear your throat, and start to walk over to Cregan.

Daemon notices the drop in your spirits - in the frown that formed on your lips, and the way your shoulders scrunched forward. He knows that you are aware of him looking at you imploringly. You refuse to meet his gaze, and continue to ignore him as he stares daggers at your retreating figure.

Daemon shrugs Mysaria’s hold off his arm, taking a step back. He is not certain what to say, and Mysaria senses his agitation.

“You desire the lady Y/n,” she states, not a shred of doubt in her enticing voice.

“You know nothing of it,” Daemon spits defensively.

“You do. You want her. I can see it in your eyes,” Mysaria repeats, “It’s a novel thing, as you once told me that she is someone whom you merely tolerate.”

And I fucking wish I knew better. “I’ll be damned if I’m not capable of changing my mind.”

“Or perhaps you always wanted her, and you just were not aware of it? You did speak plenty of her even before,” she muses, as she knows that Daemon will not deny her keen eye for observation.

Daemon and Mysaria look over to you, as you stand with the rest of your group. You smile, and stroke Hestia’s back soothingly. Cregan leans over to you, and you laugh at whatever he has whispered.

Daemon sulks, hands firmly clasped in front of him. “Fucking Stark.”

“She wants you too, you know,” Mysaria smiles.

This piques Daemon’s attention, though his face remains sour, “Don’t toy with me. Perhaps she did, but now - ”

“She still does. In time, you will both see the truth of it all. Good fortune, Prince Daemon.” she walks away, her long tresses blowing softly in the breeze, but pauses and turns halfway, “Just don’t be stupid.”

Daemon nods once, feeling hopeful anew.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

One brisk morning, you sit peacefully in the gardens, a new book in your hands. You sit comfortably, your legs tucked underneath you on the seat. Daemon once remarked of how he liked the careless way with which you sit, to which you rolled your eyes, “Don’t mock me, Daemon. My father has scolded me plenty about how I don’t sit like a proper lady.”

Daemon just snickered at that, and playfully pulled at your ankle. That was one of your more amicable exchanges. Even now, your mind trains back to him, as if his absence is a thing that demands to be felt. Even after you believe yourself to have grown resolute at giving up any romantic notion when it comes to Daemon, after the encounter with Mysaria a few days prior.

Hestia sits beside you, crocheting, her needle deftly held between her slender fingers.

“My lady,” she says, looking to the side at the hedges, “I think you have a shadow.”

You follow her gaze and see him. The prince currently occupying your thoughts. As he always has. Daemon leans against the bark of a tree, evidently watching you. A smirk forms on his lips when he sees you finally notice him.

Your shadow.

You throw him a questioning look from afar. He merely shrugs his shoulders and starts to confidently walk toward you. He reaches you, and you just stare at each other in relative silence.

“You,” you say, as he had always done upon seeing you.

“Excuse me, lady Y/n, Prince Daemon,” Hestia curtsies to the both of you, then proceeds to take her leave. She smiles slyly at you over her shoulder, and you know she will want to be filled in about what happens later on. You consider yourself fortunate that your lady-in-waiting grew to become one of your closest confidantes.

“My shadow,” he says smoothly, then sits beside you.

“I might go so far as to say that the tables have turned. You are my shadow now, Prince Daemon.”

“Hmm,” he sneers, “No Stark boy today?”

“He’s visiting his sister, but he shall return soon. He promised me.”

“I’d much prefer it if he were to never set foot in King’s Landing ever again,” he comments casually.

“Jealous are we, my shadow?” you look at him teasingly through your lashes, realizing in that split moment, how easy it is. Being around him feels natural, despite the flares in his disposition and his offhand remarks.

You also realize that it is not completely the same with Cregan, as sweet and perfect as he might be. There is a sense of trying to fulfil your duty as a lady from a noble house, when it comes to your courtship with the young wolf.

But you have always chosen Daemon. If only he would choose you in return.

“I could ask the same of you. I saw the way you were glaring at Mysaria,” he smirks, raising his eyebrows tauntingly.

“I was not glaring at her.”

“Oh no, apologies, not glaring,” he raises his hands in faux surrender, “Not glaring. Seething.”

“Can you honestly blame me?” your face turns gloomy as you look off into the distance.

Daemon feels the drop in your demeanour, and his heart sinks. Must I always be the root of her heartache? Have I not done enough?

As if on instinct, he reaches across, and squeezes your hand, “My shadow, you must know, I have not bed any other, have not even looked at any other, ever since…”

You look down at your joined hands, his hand wider and calloused around yours. You’ve always known, when you would hold his hand to give him comfort, that it was always for your sake as well. His touch calmed you, but it was as if you had to steal moments of it for yourself.

This feels different. His thumb lazily strokes the back of your hand. You watch his eyes roam your face, from your eyes to your lips and back.

You wait for him to say the words. To say anything that would validate your longing.

“Now, I’m going to attempt something, my shadow, and you mustn’t be angry with me. Alright?”

“Daemon.”

“Alright?”

“Okay.”

Your breath catches in your throat when he leans closer, close enough that you feel his warm breath on your skin. Even closer, as you feel his lips graze yours, ever so gently. His eyes continue to search yours, gauging your reaction.

Then he presses his lips to yours. The countless times you had imagined that way it would feel, certainly does not do it any justice. Not even a little bit.

You let out a sound of appreciation, a soft little moan against his mouth, overwhelmed by the sensation. He pulls away for a second, hums affectionately, and runs his thumb over your lips. You let out a laugh, feeling light-hearted. He smiles at you, at his little shadow, before motioning towards your lips with a tilt of his jaw.

You kiss him again, and he feels his heart beating faster than ever before. The rogue prince, quite possibly one of the most notorious philanderers in the Seven Kingdoms, feeling flustered over you. You blossom into him, revealing yourself like you never had, his beloved shadow being engulfed and warmed by his sunlight.

His mouth becomes insistent in brushing against yours, his tongue tracing your lips. A shiver runs down your spine, your nerves set completely alight. His tongue mingles with yours, and you savour the taste of peppermint and sweet wine.

Reluctantly, grudgingly, you find whatever little impulse you have to pull away.

Your breath comes out in pants, and you raise your fingertips to feel where his lips were once on yours.

He studies your face, wondering what thoughts fill your mind.

You stand abruptly and begin to pace in front of him.

“Shadow?” he stops you, keeping you still with his hands on your shoulders.

“W-why?” you question.

He is still half-dazed from your taste, your scent all around him, “Don’t you see? I want you.”

“You want me?” your tone rises in disbelief.

“Must I repeat myself?” he nearly rolls his eyes, but keeps his manner sincere, “I’ve never been the sort of man to deny myself the desires of my heart. And my heart only wants you.”

Just give in. Kiss him again, throw reason away to the wind. Forget any doubt, any past grievances. He says he is yours now.

But you remember all those moments wherein you made yourself available to him. To be his friend, his source of comfort, his defender. Any way he wished to have you. You desired him. You wanted him. You loved him.

You love him. But for so long, he turned the other way. You had held your heart out for him to take, and he did not. He merely tolerated it.

“Daemon,” you shut your eyes, needing to clear your head, “what of Cregan?”

“What of him?” he hisses, eyes narrowing.

You become infuriated, “Seven hells, I am in the middle of a fucking courtship!”

“An empty formality.” Of course Daemon would believe so.

“We should not have kissed. It is not respectful to Cregan.”

His hand moves to grip your face, tilting your head, and you are caught up in the passion in his violet eyes, “Did you not enjoy it? Did you not like kissing me?”

“You know I bloody well did.”

“We can speak with your father and end this farce of a courtship. You need not continue - ”

You interrupt, “It wouldn’t be right. Cregan is a decent, and loving man. My father says so himself. He would make for a good husband.”

“And I wouldn’t?” his hands drop to his side, and he takes a step back.

“I don’t know. I have to learn how to trust you again. After everything.”

His eyes are tormented as he looks away.

“Daemon, I need time. I want to be completely certain if I will have to give up a life with Cregan.”

“Because he matters so much to you,” he sighs, appearing dejected.

“I’ve grown to value him for who he is. He’s my friend, and I had entered this courtship in hopes that it would help me forget about you. And I was thinking that perhaps, I could learn to love him… in time.”

“Don’t,” is all he can bring himself to say.

“I did not believe you cared for me, as I did you. It is only now that this,” you gesture between the two of you, “ever became anything. For you, at least. There was once a time wherein there was only you for me, but now, I just need some time.”

Daemon says nothing, letting your words sink in. His jaw clenches, deep in thought.

“Daemon,” you take his hand, “say something.”

He doesn’t. In a flash, he simply connects his lips to yours again, sucking the breath from your lungs. Your worries cease, as you give in to him. You reach upward to entangle your fingers in his silver hair; his hands hold your waist tightly.

In true Daemon fashion, his lusty resolve breaks, and he lets his hands slide downward to grip your backside. You moan, and bite his lip as a result.

He smirks, breaking the kiss, his forehead pressing against yours, “Okay, my shadow. I will wait.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

The days are long and languid. Daemon thinks so. He does not have much to occupy his time apart from his duties as Commander of the City Watch. He used to gain just the barest enjoyment from it, from ensuring that the city’s vermin are put to justice. But everything feels gray, devoid of any appeal. Nothing made him incandescent. He merely watched, and waited. For you.

He remembers you as he sits in the courtyard. He remembers the way you cheered for him while he trained, the way you sneered at his opponents, cussed at them even. The intensity in your expression was almost too much at times; you were so invested in his insignificant, little displays of skill. You were always there for him.

He remembers you when he strolls into the gardens, where you first met. You had been reading in solitude that fateful afternoon, your brows furrowed over a passage that baffled you. Something about witches in the histories of Westeros, you told him afterward. He responded, “Why, do you fear you might be a witch yourself? You certainly possess the ferocity.” So crude, you thought, so intriguing. So this is Prince Daemon Targaryen.

“Careful now, my prince. I just might put a spell on you.” you smiled at him, the very first time. He thought you very comely, but then again, he thought the same of several dozen other ladies. You thought him inexplicable, his reputation preceding him. The Rogue Prince, the rebellious second son. The patron saint of delinquents and whores, Otto Hightower once told your father. But you thought him amazing. Different. Dangerous. That very night, he filled your dreams. Since then, Daemon Targaryen became your sun.

On one of these mindless strolls, he comes across you. He cannot help it, and so he trails you, like a shadow. Every step feels heavy, because you are not alone. Your arm is looped around the wolf boy’s, walking too close for Daemon’s liking.

When he sees you kissing Cregan Stark, he sees red. He feels ill, fueled with rage. He saw it unfolding, the Stark boy running his fingers over your cheekbone, and then slowly closing the distance between you two. You stand arrested by the moment, seemingly apprehensive, but you don’t move away. The way the Stark boy curls his fingers firmly on your waist, drawing you close, he wishes he had done that.

He wishes he had pulled you close when you wiped the sweat from his forehead on those days you watched him train. In those moments when he was overcome with emotion and you would hold his hand. He had walked away, or turned to someone completely insignificant, when he could have held you. When he could have kissed you, much better than the Stark boy kisses you now.

Every part of him wishes to end the Stark boy’s life. He wants to strike him down in front of you. He wants to get you back.

But seven hells, Viserys would cast him out for good. He has only just returned to his brother’s good graces, the incident with Maron Tyrell having just been resolved.

And you. You would never forgive him. You would never speak to him again. And he can’t have that. He can’t live with that. He won’t.

He needs you, he knows this now.

He loves you, he is certain.

You had become Daemon Targaryen’s sun. As he was once yours.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

There is a storm raging over King’s Landing. Heavy rain is pelting against your windows, and thunder echoes across the skies, a blanket of shadow covering the kingdom’s capital.

You sit in front of your mirror, absentmindedly running a comb through your hair. The week has felt long and languid. You certainly think so. You’ve had much to occupy your time – Cregan, duties with your father, lessons with the Septa, poring over books in the great library.

And yet, everything feels gray, as if devoid of warmth, not unlike the state of the city at present.

Daemon has been flooding your thoughts, despite your reluctance. You have been trying to not let your mind flash back to the kiss, without much success. A knot in your belly formed the moment Cregan’s lips touched yours, because you realized that you wish it had been Daemon instead.

It is as if your heart is sound in its resolve, its verdict clear. It is now left to you to either embrace the truth that it speaks, or stifle it, for the sake of an obvious consolation.

Daemon. You close your eyes, in remembrance of how he tastes. What if he loses heart? What if he no longer waits?

A sound catches your ear, one you think to be a faint knock, but it is overshadowed by a crackle of thunder booming outside at the same time.

The knocking repeats, a consistent rapping on the heavy wooden door.

You cautiously walk over, confused as to who would be visiting your chambers at this late hour.

“Who’s there?” you call out.

“Shadow.” You freeze, you would recognize this voice anywhere.

With tentative hands, you push the door open, and you are at once met with the sight of Daemon. His hair is unkempt and he is clad in only a loose white poet shirt, and dark trousers.

Words fail you, and you drink in the sight of him, as if it was the first time.

He rasps, holding your gaze, “I’m done waiting.”

“Daemon.”

He lunges forward, flooding all of your senses, gripping your face tightly in his hands and smashing his lips to yours. It’s different this time. More heated, passionate, greedy. He kicks the door shut with his foot, and he leads you deeper into the room.

“Daemon, what - ” you break away, in an attempt to catch your breath.

His forefinger flits across your lips, silencing you, “Hush, my shadow. I need this. I need you.”

You hum in agreement, and throw all caution to the wind. This is your Daemon. It has always been clear, he is the one you will always want.

Your hands roam, feeling his neck, his collarbone, and his chest exposed by the flowing shirt.

He stands captivated by you, and the gentle way in which you touch him. Your eyes filled with adoration. This is exactly what he needs. The storm might be raging outside, but right now, in this glowing candle lit room, he has his sunshine.

You had gone from being his shadow, to his light.

“I love you,” his voice is a mere whisper, and yet it electrifies your entire being, “I love you, my light.”

You look at him in a daze, and your vision becomes cloudy as a tear threatens to fall, and it does, when he kisses you again. He lifts you up on the table, and you wrap your legs around his waist. You lean backward, pulling him with you, making his pelvis press onto yours.

He groans, his frustration heightening even more when your hands roam under his shirt, gliding across the chiselled plains of his stomach, down to the line of his trousers.

He breaks the kiss, burying his face in your neck, “I want to… do this right.”

He straightens, kissing you once, before declaring, “I shall wed you first, my dearest love. Then, I shall have you.” His hand comes up to squeeze your breast, as if to make a promise, “All of you.”

Heat rushes to your face, and you can feel all this yearning prompting a knot to unravel low in your belly, “I must admit this is not what I expected of you, my prince. You were never one to exercise such restraint.”

“Be that as it may, my light, this is different. You are not like the others. Granted, I am not one to shy away from the pleasures of the flesh.” His fingers caress your ankles, before slithering gradually up your legs. He savours the softness of your flesh, squeezing your thighs, his eyes never leaving yours.

“You will soon find, my light, that fucking is a pleasure, and I especially want to show you how satisfying it can be,” his hands slide higher, and higher, “in every way possible.”

“Daemon,” you bite your lip, encouraging him, “my love.”

“Yes, my light?” he taunts.

“For fuck’s sake,” you curse impatiently, guiding your pelvis so that his fingers finally graze your undergarments.

“Impatient are we?” he shifts the cloth to one side, tracing one digit over your folds, “You are exquisite.”

“Mmm,” you tilt your head back, and brace yourself on the table, your hands struggling to keep yourself upright, “please, Daemon.”

Urged by your mewling, sensual music to his ears, he pushes one finger inside your warmth. He pumps it inside, outside, watching you all the while.

With his other hand, he undoes the delicate string on the front of your nightgown. The thin fabric haphazardly falls to your waist, revealing your torso to his hungry eyes.

“Fuck,” he hisses, pushing another finger inside you, picking up the pace. He then moves to plant a sloppy kiss on your lips, before trailing downward, licking and pecking his way until he reaches your breast. His tongue swirls freely on your nipple, and your hand comes up to brace itself onto his hair.

“This is fucking torturous,” he nearly growls, once again kissing you. Daemon wants to lose himself in the sight of your unravelling, as you unabashedly fuck his fingers. He prays to the gods that he might learn to control his lust, his desire to just forego tradition and bury his cock deep inside your pussy threatening to take over him.

“Gods, Daemon, this is so much better than I imagined,” you pant, your lips turning up in a smirk.

“Is that so, my light? Have you touched yourself to the thought of me?”

When you nod, he purrs in your ear, his lips grazing the skin, “Have you dreamed about fucking me? As I have you?”

His thumb circles rapidly around your clit, while his two soaked digits relentlessly plunge into your pussy. “Y-yes, Daemon.” His movement grows ever so careless and wild, fingers curling inside you, eager to bring you to climax. Your eyes flutter closed, as your pelvis begins to feel tense, that familiar spasm gathering below.

“Let go, my light,” he commands, “Release yourself onto me.”

Once more, you pull him by the neck, and taste him. When his tongue collides with yours, you let go, gushing down on his fingers. He feels your juices drip down to his palm, but he makes no move. He leans back, memorizing the sight of you. His shadow, his light, covered in a sheen of sweat, thin nightgown pooled by your waist. Your legs spread wide open for him, your cum still warm on his skin.

He cleans his hand, first sucking some of your orgasm off his fingers, and wiping the rest on the back of his shirt. He leans forward, palms on either side of your thighs on the table.

“Daemon?” you breathe, eyes half-lidded from the aftermath, “What is it?”

“I love you.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Daemon’s arm is wrapped around you, as your head rests on his chest, listening to his faint heartbeat.

You found yourselves lying down on your bed, atop the silken sheets, after that delightful table incident, deciding to call it thus as you now fondly think back to it.

You had been sharing stories of mixed significance, ranging from what you had for breakfast to the culmination of the war in the Stepstones.

“I may have to go into battle,” he confesses, “sometime in the days to come.”

Worry floods you, knowing how reckless he can be when faced with the thrill of war. Violence is not something that deterred Daemon, let alone the pain of death. If anything, he seemed to welcome it, and it frightens you.

You do not want to ever lose him. It was true then, but now, your very being depends on it. With him gone, you are afraid that you would never be whole again.

“Must you go?” you whisper.

“You need not worry, my light,” he kisses the top of your head lovingly, “I will always return to you.”

“But must you go? Is it necessary that you be there?” you prop yourself up on one elbow, so that he may see the sincerity in your expression.

“No,” he decides, “the war is all but won. There are just some loose ends to tie up, and the Velaryon army is more than capable of putting an end to it all. I had just half a mind to proffer aid from myself and a portion of the King’s army.”

“So let the King’s army go, and you can stay here with me.”

“My love?” he grins, “are you truly demanding that of me?”

“Just this once?” you plead, smiling at him, “I don’t wish to forbid you from ever stepping into battle. I just… I’ve only just had you. I prefer not to take any foolish risk, as little as it might be.”

A smile forms on his lips, as he relishes in knowing that you truly must care for him.

“As you wish,” he relents, “I shall stay.”

You kiss him, certain that you will never tire of the feeling of his lips flush against yours.

You look down at him with stars in your eyes, “I love you, Daemon.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

The members of the Small Council try to hide their surprise at the presence of Prince Daemon, already sitting comfortably at his chair, as they enter the room and each shuffle to their place around the table.

“My lords,” Daemon casually greets, “I had thought you all had forgotten about the council meeting.”

“Prince Daemon, I assure you that we are exactly on time,” Lord Beesbury responds, failing to understand the jest.

Viserys is the last to walk in, accompanied by his Kingsguard. He pauses upon seeing his brother, but quickly carries on to his seat at the head of the table.

“Brother,” Daemon says, amused, “do try not to look so amazed.”

“Daemon,” Viserys merely nods in acknowledgment, before turning to the rest of the council, “let us begin.”

The minutes seem to pass by at a snail’s pace, at least for Daemon. He unknowingly gazes out the window now and again, as if in a daydream, eliciting several scolding glares from his brother.

Taxes, festivities, tapestries, resources. All these concerns fly over his head, especially since it was only the night before last when he finally claimed you. Or more aptly put, when he surrendered himself over to you.

“Princess Rhaenyra is to embark on a tour to several neighbouring cities, as part of her duties as princess of the realm, and as my heir,” Viserys announces, before addressing your father, “She kindly wishes to have your daughter, the Lady Y/n, as her companion for this particular excursion.”

Daemon’s interest is restored at the sound of your name, and he straightens, eager to hear the rest. Little does he know, Viserys notices this slight movement, peering at him suspiciously out of the corner of his eye.

“Oh, what an honour that is, your Grace,” your father beams, “she will surely only be glad to accept the princess’ request. I shall relay the news to her when she returns from Storm’s End, in around a day or two.”

“Y/n is in Storm’s End?” Daemon speaks for the first time since the council discussions began, and all heads turn to him. There is an intimacy with which the prince mentions your name, a genuine curiosity with which he inquires about you, that drew everyone’s attention.

“Yes, my prince,” your father responds carefully, “she wanted to treat with Lord Cregan Stark, who has been visiting his sister Sara, the consort of Lord Baratheon’s eldest son.”

“How goes the courtship, my lord?” Tyland asks purposefully, knowing that it might turn Daemon irate, as he is already sulking in his seat, looking as if the wrong word might set him off.

“I’m afraid she plans to put an end to it,” your father finally says, regret perceptible in his voice, “as she has divulged to me that she might never see Lord Stark as more than a friend.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, my lord,” Viserys expresses genuinely, although he continues to closely watch Daemon’s reactions. His amusement grows at his younger brother’s inability to hide his emotions when it comes to you. First, intrigue at the mere mention of your name, then disappointment upon hearing that you are to see Cregan Stark, and finally the most obvious sense of relief regarding the end of your courtship.

A laugh threatens to escape Viserys. Being the elder brother that he is, he craves the pleasure of playfully taunting Daemon over his increasingly apparent affection for you.

“Nothing to be sorry about, dear brother,” Daemon speaks, breaking Viserys out of his thoughts.

“Oh?” Viserys turns to him in anticipation.

“My wish is to wed the Lady Y/n, as promptly as can be expected.” The entire council falls into silence, and Viserys finally lets out the dry laugh he has been holding back.

“M-my prince?” your father looks as if his heart would cease, and he certainly feels so, his chest significantly tightening at the prince’s declaration. Due to elation, or horror, he is yet to determine.

“Seven hells,” Otto exclaims, turning to Viserys, “won’t this be improper? The Lady Y/n has just ended a courtship with another lord, immediately to be wed to the prince?”

“I don’t suppose so,” Viserys easily counters, placing his hand atop his brother’s, “Daemon, I would hope that the lady is aware of your desire to be wed to her, and that you are not simply about to spring this upon the poor girl?”

“Of course she is,” Daemon confirms, his voice steady, “we are in love, if you cunts must know.” He could not help his less than tasteful remark, growing defensive about you.

“Gods be good,” Lord Beesbury balks at the prince’s crudeness.

“Alright,” Viserys raises a hand to appease the council, “Daemon, brother, I would be glad to see this come to fruition. Your marriage to the Lady Y/n would be exceedingly advantageous after all, for both our Houses.” He addresses your father, “I would assume that you believe so as well, my lord?”

Your father’s thoughts race, and with your best interests in mind, he speaks only to Daemon, “Do you truly love her, my prince?”

There is not a shred of doubt in Daemon’s voice when he answers, “More than anything.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

You sit in your usual spot in the gardens, accompanied by Hestia. A book rests on your lap, but you pay it no attention, your mind elsewhere.

Having just returned from Storm’s End, you feel at peace. You already knew that Cregan would accept your choice, but you did not wish to cause him any pain. It may have just been his natural charm, or a sense of ease with which he can hide his displeasure, but when you finally confided in him about Daemon, he was only quick to offer you a smile and pull you into his arms.

“Quite frankly, my lady, it only seemed a matter of time before Prince Daemon would break and accept that he needs you,” he said sincerely, his smile unwavering, “and I can recognize love when I see it, and it certainly exists between the two of you.”

Love. You shut your eyes, thinking of him, and savour the warmth of sunlight on your skin.

“My lady,” Hestia whispers, and your eyes slowly flutter open. You see her looking toward a figure in the distance.

“I think you have a shadow.”

🖤🖤🖤

The longest fuckin chapter I've ever written, gods be good. It did get a bit rushed towards the end. There was meant to be this whole scenario about Daemon heading into battle after hearing that the reader went to Winterfell instead to treat with Cregan Stark. Then I read how long it actually takes to travel from King's Landing to Winterfell and the timing just didn't fit with the events.

The parallels between Daemon and the reader were my favourite parts to write. They really are just two sides of the same coin.

Also, I did not expect myself to be writin' spicy content for this chapter, but I guess it just happened?? Oh well. 🤷‍♀️

I apologize this took aaaages to be put out. The amount of times I altered some parts I'm telling you, y'all would have just wrenched my laptop from me and I would not have blamed you 😂

My inbox was indeed flooded with demands for this chapter and I can only thank you all so much for wanting to read on!!! 🤍

taglist: @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @itscheybaby @my-dark-prince @keep-beating-my-dear-heart @mamamooqa @63angel @azucarmorennna @kate16sstuff @thoughtfulfreakalpaca @alexandra-001 @babywolff @gloryekaterina @writer-lee5 @lockleysgrl @alexa4040 @piceous21 @softtina @bregarc @ramennoodles212 @siriusdumblittlepuppy @captainweirdo42 @thx-rn @merovingianprincess @clarap23 @itisjustwhatitis @blushinyouth @aeisnoa @a-lil-bit-nuts @paprikaquinn @just-some-random-blogger @cantstoptherecs @baybieruth @wondergal2001 @pax-2735 @immyowndefender @moonmaiden1996 @wrendermeuseless @schniiipsel @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @icarusignite @flourishandblotts-inc @siriusdumblittlepuppy @booknerd2004 @just-a-harmless-patato @moni-cah @boofy1998 @huntycola @sanguinalia @thelastcitysposts @daeneeryss

#daemon targaryen x y/n #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen imagine #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon #daemon targaryen #matt smith #daemon targaryen fanfic #daemon targaryen smut

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psychedelic-ink · 4 months

Text

𝐀𝐬 𝐈𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐬 - 𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫'𝐬 𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐈𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐝

pairing: pre outbreak!joel miller x f!reader, one sided tommy miller x f!reader

series summary: After your grandfather’s passing, you find yourself moving into his home in Texas. You meet the Millers; Tommy, his older brother Joel and his daughter Sarah. With time, you and Tommy become close friends and Sarah visits you often. But Joel…Joel keeps his distance. The reason for this is due to one crucial fact you don’t know but he does; Tommy has a crush on you. Which means you’re off limits no matter what. But as your own feelings for Joel grow, things start to get more and more complicated.

word count: 2.6k

chapter summary: you decide to host a New Year's party and when Joel shows up soaked to the bone thanks to the rain, you lead him to the bathroom to dry him up.

warnings: piv, secret relationship, dirty talk, joel getting really creative with the shower head

a/n: let's just consider this little fic an alternative version of the question "what if the outbreak didn't happen plus tommy still doesn't know about you and joel" Normally he would learn before outbreak day no matter if the outbreak happens or not but I wanted to keep the sneaking around bit for this one soooo

I would also like to thank everyone who has been following the story! Every comment is precious to me and I appreciate it more than you realize. I'm so happy people are still enjoying it, I have big plans for this series and I will be finishing it spring time. I hope the new year brings you all peace and happiness, happy new year everyone!

**divider by the talented @saradika-graphics xx

Rain washes away everything. It washes away the dirt of the street, rejuvenates the drying trees, makes the grass greener. In Austin rain truly is a blessing. Every living thing hungers for it. To you, it symbolizes the new beginnings and the losses. You half listen to the chatter between Olivia and Tommy as you peek out the window, smooth drops cascading down the surface. For some, the rain wasn’t an ideal weather to have during New Year’s, but to you, it only made the atmosphere cozier.

The crowded party buzzes around you, people laughing, dancing, and sharing stories. You can't help but notice familiar faces from the community seamlessly mingling with Tommy and Olivia's friends, since you were still relatively new you didn’t know many people other than neighbors and asked them to invite people. The room echoes with the joy of New Year's Eve.

It’s been a painful yet surprising year, to say the least. The loss of your grandfather, the unexpected move, the journey to find yourself. . . all of it had been a bit much, a bit daunting. However, as your mind drifts off to the new room in the old house you realize that some things are truly different. You have people who care about you now. You have the Miller’s, Olivia, your art. All in all, it had also been an amazing year.

The thought makes guilt gnaw at your insides. Tommy still doesn’t know about you and Joel, you were supposed to tell him. . .Joel was supposed to tell him but alas neither of you found the courage to come clean. The past couple of months had been so blissful with him. Neither of you wanted to give that up.

The faint smell of cinnamon reaches your nose and you find yourself smiling even though you’re only slightly worried.

Joel’s late.

“He’s fine,” you hear Tommy whine, turning around you see him rolling his eyes. “He’s a big boy, sweetheart. He’ll be okay in a little bit of rain.”

Big boy, indeed.

“Where is he anyway?” Olivia asks, stuffing her mouth full of crackers.

“He went to drop off Sarah—and there’s plenty of food, you’re not off to war you know. You can eat one at a time.”

Olivia slapped Tommy’s shoulder and took a seat next to him, “Bit weird she’s not gonna be here with us.”

“Sarah’s been beggin’ Joel for months. Finally, he caved when she pulled the ‘you know how hard it’s been for me to make friends’ card. Poor man didn’t stand a chance.”

“So,” you continue, sitting across from them. “They spent Christmas together, just the two of them. That was Joel’s deal. And she’s doing her own laundry for two months.”

“Damn, I hope the party is worth it.” Olivia gives you a mischievous grin, her eyes lighting up as they meet your gaze. "You know," she starts, leaning in slightly, "I have this friend, Jake. . .”

You cut her off, "I'm good, Liv. I'm not looking for anything right now."

"Oh, come on! He's sweet, handsome, and he's got a great sense of humor. You two would hit it off."

Your gaze quickly shifts between Tommy and Olivia. His expression tightens ever so slightly, and you catch the subtle change. Olivia, oblivious, or at least choosing to be, continues.

"Just imagine it. A romantic date, a nice dinner, maybe a movie... He’ll treat you right and if he doesn’t I’ll break his arms."

"Liv, really, I appreciate it, but I'm not ready for that kind of thing. Besides, I'm pretty content with how things are right now."

Olivia narrows her eyes. "It’s been a year, you’re ready for one date. Trust me." Then, much to your horror, she turns to Tommy and gestures to you. “Back me up Tommy, isn’t she ready?”

Tommy clears his throat, looking uncomfortable as ever. He parts his lips and worry knots itself deep in your stomach.

Luckily, you’re saved by a slightly drunk woman you don’t recognize and let out a break of relief. She situates herself next to Tommy, throwing a hand over his broad shoulder, she pulls him close and whispers something in his ear, fingers playfılly dancing over the fabric of his shirt. Olivia rolls her eyes but honestly, you’re happy and grateful for the distraction.

You’re saved a second time when the door opens, the sudden sound of rain drawing your attention. You smile instinctively upon seeing Joel, which is a bit rude you figure, because he looks miserable. His leather jacket is dripping, hair sticking to his forehead. Just how hard was it pouring outside? Must’ve picked up when you, Olivia, and Tommy were chatting along.

Joel, with dropped shoulders and head, spots Tommy first and then you. He makes his way, the defeated walk making him look like a teenager. Tommy bursts out laughing when he sees his older brother, the sound deepens the furrow between Joel’s brows.

“You look like shit!” Tommy says and you notice Olivia desperately trying to hide her laughter behind her palm.

“It’s rainin’ cats and dogs you jackass.” Your eyes move up gradually up his body. The rain had darkened the color of his shirt, the flimsy fabric sticking to the planes of his chest. Heat rises to your cheeks. “Is there anythin’ I can burrow sweet tea? Maybe somethin’ that August left behind?”

“What?” you clear your throat, blinking, you meet his gaze. His knowing smile is enough to set fire between your legs. “Sorry didn’t quite catch that.”

“Shirt,” he says, lips curling. “Unless you want me drippin’ all over your couch, somethin’ dry would be nice.” He raises a brow when you continue to stare at him, dazed. “Maybe your brother left behind somethin’?”

Oh god, he’s spelling every word slow and careful meaning he definitely knows you’ve been ogling him. You get up quickly, ignoring the proximity between your bodies, you’d expected him to take a step back but he was as still as stone. You’re like an open book, hopefully, the pretty lady perched next to Tommy is enough to distract him.

“Yeah, sure,” you answer, breathing a bit heavily. You don’t need to say anything else as you begin to part the crowd, leading him upstairs to the bathroom. You can feel him right behind you, the heat radiating off of him warming your back.

Finally reaching the bathroom, you push him inside and quickly close the door, leaning against it, you let out a breath.

However, you don’t get to breathe in when you feel a pair of lips against your own. You shudder as his soaked chest presses against yours, hands cupping your waist, Joel guides your hips towards him. He’s hard as a rock. He swallows the soft voices climbing up your throat and grinds roughly against you.

“Fuck, honey,” he rasps, dragging his lips to your cheek. “You really know how to get a man goin’.”

“I didn’t even do anything.”

“You starin’ at me like you’re about to devour me ain’t nothin’.” he nips at your neck, your body burning at the sharpness. “I’ve missed you too.”

“Don’t remember saying that,” you tease and thread your finger through the wet locks. “You’re cold.”

“You should warm me up then.”

You slip your hands under his shirt, not missing the way he shudders against you. He brings his lips back up, only an inch away, but refuses to close the distance. You keep stroking him. Warm palms moving up and down against cold and damp skin. Joel’s forehead drops onto yours.

“You do realize there’s a party going on outside right? A part that includes your brother, who we are keeping us a secret from.”

“For someone worried about the crowd you’re doin’ a whole lot to tempt me, darlin’.” he kisses your jaw. “You look beautiful by the way.”

You’re happy to hear that because he was the only reason why you decided to wear a low-cut shimmering silver dress. You had also opted to wear an almost sheer pair of black stockings underneath, giving your legs a lovely glow.

“Why thank you, kind sir.”

“I love it when you call me sir,” he groans and presses harder against you. Your eyes flutter closed but despite it, you can feel his gaze taking in the bathroom. “You fancied up the place quite a bit.”

A hoarse laughter escapes your throat, “You should thank the crowd downstairs for the fancy towels and the smell of vanilla.”

“You know. . . now that I’m thinkin’ about it it ain’t fair I’m the only one wet.”

“Believe me, Joel, I am soaking wet.”

“That’s not what I meant sunshine,” he gives you a lopsided smile before tugging you towards the tub. “Come’re.”

You wordlessly follow him into the porcelain, your curiosity piqued. His fingertips trace up your waist and find the hidden zipper, slowly, he tugs it down, the sound of it inaudible from the beating of your heart. The dress pools under your knees and your gaze is fixed on him as you step out of the soft fabric. While you’re taking in the sight of his hair curling on his forehead, he takes in the sight of the soft contours of your body. He presses a soft kiss against your stomach, a shudder crawls up your spine.

“Turn around.” He orders, voice dropping to a whisper.

“What about my stockings?”

“I’ll take care of’em.”

You brace your hand against the wall, sticking your ass out, you smile when you hear the hitch of his breath. His knuckles follow the curve of your spine and a second later you hear a loud rip.

“Joel—“

“I’ll get you new ones.” You feel him reaching up and at the same time, he slides your panties to the side. He hums. “You are wet.”

“Told you so.”

You hear a soft click, you’re barely able to register the sound as he begins to dip between your folds and stroke. Somehow your brain whispers to you that he’s adjusting the pressure of the shower head. “What are you doing back there?”

“Remember when you told me how much you enjoyed the different settings when I changed the pipes and the shower head?” You honestly didn’t. “Well, I haven’t, darlin’.”

He turns on the water, away from you thankfully, but you still tense at how cold it is as it gathers at the bottoms of your feet.

“I know baby, I know. It’ll get warmer soon.”

And it does. Your body relaxes, the subtle warmth prompting the arch of your back. Joel gently pushes your legs apart, pushing the shower head between your legs directly onto your—

“Oh god—Joel, fuck—“

“Such a filthy mouth for such a good girl,” he says into your ear. “Bet you’ve done this before sweetheart.”

You had, well. . . You tried. But it hadn’t felt as good at this. A single forceful stream of insistent water massages your clit. The arousal that pulses between your legs is washed away down your thighs. Without even realizing you start to hold your breath and embarrassingly enough you roll your hips.

You need more. You need him.

Your legs part wider, trembling as you try to tell him but instead of sentences needy whimpers echo from your throat. You feel his smile on the back of your neck, teeth scraping your warm skin every time your hips twitch. He starts moving the showerhead and your entire body goes numb. It’s so much but so little at the same time.

“You’re being loud, sweetheart.” You shake your head, trying desperately to bite back the moans. “But maybe you like the idea of our friends hearing how needy you get for me.”

You clench at the words, nails scraping against the smooth surface of the wall.

“Please. . .”

“Please what?”

Damn him.

“Fuck me,” you gasp out. “Fuck me please—I’m. . . I’m going insane.” As if to demonstrate your words, you grind down until the shower head spreads your folds, a groan reverberating in your throat as the water fills every inch. “Just fuck me, give me your cock.”

“What if I say I want you to come like this?”

You don’t even think as you answer, “I’ll cry.”

He stills like the calm before the storm then bursts out laughing. Some logical part of your brain is urging you to shush him, remind him that people might hear but you can’t when he sounds so joyful. His deep voice full of life.

“Fine, sweet tea, you win. Wouldn’t want you to cry durin’ New Year’s.”

Joel turns off the water and you turn, facing him as he does. His eyes widen when you cup his cheeks, he’s so warm now, so soft from the steam. “Let’s head to my bedroom,” you mutter. “Auggie’s spare clothes are there anyway.”

His hands softly land on your hips, thumbs moving over the waistband of your stockings. “You sure?”

“I want to see you when you bury yourself into me.”

That’s all he needs to hear before dragging you out of the bathroom. You both hurry, the sound of the party still lively downstairs. Luckily your bedroom is close to the bathroom so there isn’t much risk as you follow him out half naked, your sparkling dress in hand.

As soon as you both enter the bedroom, his lips are on yours, pushing you towards the bed until the back of your knees hits the edge and you fall. He follows your dive, his weight pleasant on top of you.

Feeling numb with want, you quickly tug his shirt off of him, and his hands fumble with his belt. Joel doesn’t even bother to take his pants off completely. He frees himself with one hand and pushes in without a word. You both moan, mouths inches apart from each other. Neither of you breaks away from the eye contact. It’s so intimate like this. Your cheeks burning at how naked you feel having him witness the parting of your lips, the flutter of your gaze.

You feel so full, so complete. The slow drag of his cock making you see starts every time he presses forward, brushing against something devastating inside you with every move. Tears gather in your lashes and he kisses them away. Then he drags his lips down to your neck, sucking at nipping. Your breath catches in your throat, your back arching as you clench around him. He groans into your skin, thrusts becoming shallow and quick.

“I’m not gonna last, honey,” he rasps. “Tell me where.”

Just as he says that his hand slides between your bodies, finding your throbbing clit. He draws quick circles, your muscles constricting immediately. At the very last second Joel covers your mouth with his own, muffling your cry as you gush around him, insides twitching and pulsing. He swallows the sounds hungrily. “Where?” he growls against your lips.

“On my pussy,” you gasp. “Want to feel you there.”

He tugs at your bottom lip with his teeth before moving away, you spread your legs further, pushing yourself apart with two fingers. Your mouth waters at the sight of him. His hand wrapped tightly around his cock as he strokes himself. It doesn’t take him long to come undone. Your eyes roll when you feel it. The vicious spurt of his come, the way it drips. It feels like it lasts forever. He comes and comes and comes— painting you with his seed.

When he’s done, he slips his softening cock back inside, pushing himself deeper into you. You both whimper in unison, and he nuzzles the crook of your neck. You begin to play with the ends of his hair, nails scratching the back of his neck.

“Happy New Year, Joel.”

“Happy New Year, sweet tea.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfic #tommy miller x reader #stay in bed new years special #tlou fanfic #the last of us fanfic

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nqmonarch · 4 months

Text

Good Boy/Girl

Characters: Dan Heng, Stelle

There's just something about being able to call someone a "Good Boy" or "Good Girl" that makes me so happy. And then for that to mean something to them? Even better.

Like, I don't mean the words in a patronizing way it's just a little symbol of approval like how you'd give a kid a sticker with the words 'Good job!'

Dan Heng

Imagine you're waiting for Dan Heng to come back from one of the trailblazing missions; more recently, the one on the Xianzhou Luofu. You're trying to escape Himeko's coffee, and relaxing with Pom Pom to cure your boredom. Then they return, tired beyond belief from their fight against an emanator, and from all of the emotional damage because there was a lot in that quest.

Dan Heng is trying to calm down from the whole ordeal, he just faced the person that haunts his nightmares, and what better way is there to calm down then spending time with his significant other? You're proud of him. For both facing his fears and doing a good job, so what better way to express that then a sweet

"Good Boy."

Dan Heng would melt into your body, allow himself to finally relax. He's safe here. And he can't help but smile, all of his efforts hadn't gone to waste in the end, everything turned out fine. It was all fine now, and the two of you can rest.

He'd take a moment after leaning against your chest and into your lap to realize what you said. And when he does realize it his eyes will widen a bit and he won't be able to hold back the slight blush. Those words mean so much coming from you.

Likewise, imagine doing so with Stelle after that same quest.

Stelle

Stelle feels betrayed by Dan Heng, blind sighted from his past (we saw how Trailblazer distanced themself from Dan Heng after the reveal and didn't speak to them as much). She feels discouraged, Dan Heng was one of the first people she met. But she doesn't know who to go to for comfort, so she ends up back in your arms.

You run your hands through her soft hair, combing out all the tangles with your fingers. She leans into you, practically sitting in your lap, closing her eyes, and trying to relax. But it's hard. She trusted Dan Heng, and even if it's not his fault, she feels betrayed for not knowing such a large part of his life.

Her shoulders would quiver every once in a while and every time she showed unease, you'd lean a bit closer and whisper.

"Good Girl."

You'd tell her how good she did, how strong she was for taking on an emanator, how she persevered despite everything. She'd cry, turn around, and hold you close. The rest of the night would probably repeat this way, until the two of you fall asleep side by side.

You wake up a bit of a mess, you didn't change into your pajamas or do anything to get ready for bed. But there Stelle is, a small smile on her face and a gift in her hands-- wait, isn't that trash? Why is it golden???

You love your girlfriend anyway, despite her unusual habits.

I don't know maybe I just feel this way. Like it's a way to show someone you appreciate them, love them, think they did great. Or maybe I am just a very big simp.

Like I would die to make you smile, but I'd still want you to cry at my death.

Y'know what I mean?

#hsr #hsr x reader #dan heng x reader #stelle x reader #dan heng #stelle #reader insert #comfort #i am a simp

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artists-ally · 10 days

Note

Hello sweetheart 😘 I really really adore your writing so much ! So, I dare to send in an idea as well 🥰 maybe you're dating Harvey but he barely had time for you lately, so one time he wants to surprise you with dinner at his apartment and you enjoy your time together. Then you both end your evening with lovely passionate smut and lots of cuddles afterwards. In the morning he wakes up before you and takes time in admiring you, realizing how happy he is to have you ? Hope that's not too cheesy ❤️ thank you so much in advance!

{Warm} Reader x Harvey Specter

This has been sitting in my inbox for god knows how long. I thank you for your patience my dear. I love this idea so much, and this song Warm by SG Lewis is just perfect. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it. P.S. nothing is EVER too cheesy for me to write <3

Word Count: 3,998

Warnings: Just some good ole fluff and smut, some very soft dom!Harvey.

Tagging: @rosedpetal @blacktreacle22

Summary: After a particularly brutal month in the office, you've noticed some changes. Harvey is just... not present. Rather than demanding his attention, you just simply float by, knowing eventually he'll return his negligence. And boy does he ever.

~~~~~

“Yn, you really just need to grow a set and tell Harvey he’s being a jackass,” Donna scolds through the phone.

I roll my eyes, “Donna, I told you before. I don’t mind. He’s focused on winning this case, and it quite literally is the life and death of this firm. So, while I appreciate your ‘words of affirmation’, I didn’t ask for them.”

“I know, I just hate to see you so neglected.”

“Oh please,” I pff, flipping my head to move a chunk of hair out of my eye. “Neglected is probably the last thing I am. I can entertain myself. I actually haven’t minded the space. Every once and a while it’s good to go back to the basics. I’ve finally learned how to take care of the plants, I can make a mean lasagna too. I’ve even gotten back into reading. For fun.”

“Sheesh, clearly something is wrong if you’ve been reading voluntarily.”

I snickered. “I don’t know, I saw a book recommendation on instagram and fell in love. Childhood penpals turned strangers, turned back to penpals and she found out he’s the world's biggest rock star and he’s been writing songs about her the entire time.”

“Sounds exactly like the fairytale mushy-gushy shit you love. How you found Harvey to fill those shoes I’ll never understand.”

“He’s just… I don’t know, exactly what I need? My life is perpetually disorganized and he’s too organized. We balance each other out. It just works, and I love our life. I love our dynamic, and I love him. Since he’s so busy, and I have the energy and mental space to, I don’t mind picking up the slack. Again, things will balance themselves back.”

Donna sighed, and I knew that flat line was on her lips. “I know, you’re always so insightful. Optimistic bitch.” I cackled a laugh. “But in all seriousness, Harvey needs you. You’re right, he is too organized. He needs you to unwind him. I know how he is, and he needs a kick in the ass every once in a while. So, if by the end of the week, he doesn’t come around a little, just push him. He’ll fold. Especially for you, and that ass of yours.”

A smile bloomed onto my face, the door of our apartment building coming into view. “Thanks Donna, I’ll let you know how tonight goes. Maybe I’ll stop by the office in the morning and bring the crew some coffee, a few bagels as well.”

“This is why you will always remain my favorite. Now go eat that Chinese food, you sexy son of a bitch.”

“How did you know I had Chinese food?”

“Because I’m Donna.” Then the line went dead.

Psycho. My psycho, but still a psycho.

I did indeed have a takeout bag hooked in my elbow filled with Chinese food. Sesame chicken and wonton soup for me, beef and broccoli with pork lo-mein for Harvey. I got a small order of pork fried rice and some scallion pancakes to share. I was about ten seconds away from crouching in an alley and eating myself into a coma.

The city streets were just beginning to fill up with Friday night festivities. Those heading to lavish dinners or exotic clubs, dressed to the nines with pristine hair and outfits. I looked down at my beat up orthopedic sneakers that kept the never ending foot pain of being a museum tour guide at bay. Here I was, surrounded by the most eccentric and busy place on earth, with absolutely nothing to do.

And that felt amazing.

I scurried up the steps to the apartment building, greeting our doorsman with a smile and a wave. He gave me one back, pulling open the big glass doors. The mild April chill vanished and the comfortable, still air caressed my cheeks. The elevator door chimed open, chimed closed, and ascended to the top.

21… 22… 23… the floors climbed and climbed. What was I going to watch? The new season of Bridgerton was out, I could watch that. No, the next season can’t possibly be as good as Charlottes. Maybe a movie? Didn’t that second Dunne one come out? I’m not sure I understand the first one enough to comprehend the second.

The ding sounds, and I step off, juggling my keys as I rattle off more ideas in my head.

There's always The Big Bang Theory, maybe Two Broke Girls? Nah, I’ve seen those a thousand times. Maybe I should watch something new. No, nothing sounds interesting. I could try to read, but I don’t wanna risk spilling anything on my book. Once in third grade, I was eating a bowl of cereal in the morning, and I spilled the entire thing on my book. If You Give A Mouse A Cookie was never the same again.

When the door opened, I toed off my sneakers, kicking them in the corner. I threw the keys in the bowl and hummed a song aimlessly. In the kitchen, I pried a plate out of the cabinet and began to spoon food onto my plate. I won’t tell Harvey, but I stole some of his lo-mein.

“Yn,” a voice spoke.

I spun so hard I knocked my hip into the kitchen island corner, a scream bubbling out. “Jesus fucking christ Harvey! You could warn me next time, fucking hell.”

My heart thrashed in my chest, my eyes going a little wonky from adrenaline. I swallowed, bending at the waist to catch my breath.

“Sorry, my love,” he smiled, coming to raise me from my hunched over position. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“A simple text would’ve been lovely,” I sighed, rising to my full height. “What the hell are you doing…”

All words died on my tongue as I looked around. The table was decorated with a white cloth, candles skewed about. There were flowers in a vase on the counter, beside it a card with two small boxes. There was champagne chilling in a metal bucket of ice, a box of chocolate covered strawberries and cherries next to it.

“Harvey, what’s all this for? Our anniversary isn’t for two months.”

He grinned, that smirk going right to my chest. “No, it’s not.”

“Then what's all… this?” I waved my hand around, noticing a few balloons blown up and taped to the archway. I somehow completely missed the rose petals lining the floor.

“It’s because I love you,” Harvey grabbed my hips, pressing our fronts together. “You’ve been… dealing with me for weeks now. My absence, my constant mood swings and lashing out. And I know what you’re gonna say-”

“That I know you’ve been stressed and need some time to focus on the case?”

Harvey tilted his head, a flat expression on his lips. “Yes. That.”

“It’s not a big deal, Harvey. I know how important work is to you, and I know that you’ve really needed to focus so the firm doesn’t crumble and-”

“But I need you to know that you are a thousand times more important than work,” he says, placing his palms on my cheeks. He kisses me softly, stealing the air from my lungs. “Then the firm,” another kiss. “And anything that has to do with that hellscape. I love you, Yn. And I don’t know what I would do without your constant flexibility with my chaotic life. So this is a very small token of my appreciation. The first part, at least.”

I hummed against his lips, letting my arms lay across his shoulders. I kiss him deeply. “The first part?”

“Mhmm,” he nodded, hands falling down my back, a less than PG-13 flex of his hands on my ass. “First, I want you to open those little boxes. Then, we’re gonna eat and have some dessert.”

“I feel like there's more to this list,” I smile, making my way back to the counter to get our food. One second to the next, Harvey gripped my arm and pulled me back into his chest. I could feel his desire pressing into me. “Looks like I’m right.”

“You’re always right,” he whispered, breath tickling my ear. He kissed the side of my neck, leaving a little bite below my ear. “Go sit, I’ll get the food.”

A new thrill fueled my body, propelling my steps to the dining room. I sat, playing with the end of the table cloth as Harvey brough everything over. The champagne, the card, the boxes and the food. Before he made his way to his seat, his palm cupped my neck and he tilted my head back. His deep, lust filled eyes locked with mine before he kissed me again.

“Open whichever you’d like, darling,” he sat opposite me, tucking the napkin across his lap.

“Just because I did what anyone would for their love doesn’t mean you need to shower me with gifts, Harvey,” I said, giving him a pointed look.

“And if I bought them just because I wanted to?”

Point taken. I read the card, a picture of a polar bear wearing sunglasses on a beach with a coconut in its hand plastered on the front.

Classy. It made me giggle nonetheless.

To my Yn,

Thank you. I’m sorry. I love you. Thank you for being here, even when I wasn’t. I’m sorry for my absence, I promise I’ll be more conscious of my time spent at the office. I love you, more than I ever thought I’d ever be able to love anything. You are everything I’ve always wanted, and everything I never knew I’d need. After this last month, I didn’t understand just how badly I craved you. Your smile, your laugh, your warmth. The taste of you in the morning, and those adorable snores at night. No matter how many times I do it, I’ll never get tired of kissing you. Never tire of taking your breath away. I’ll never get sick of you being the first thing I see when I wake up, and the last thing before I sleep.

You are forever entwined in my soul, Yn. And I wouldn’t dare to imagine it otherwise.

I love you. <3 Harvey

I looked up at him, tears lining my eyes. He just winked at me, fork scraping his plate as he shoved a mouthful in.

“Fuck you for that,” I sniffled, brushing away the tears as I blinked. “That was so uncalled for, you didn’t need to do that to me. That’s so unfair.”

He smiled, “I know you love that shit. And before you ask, Donna didn’t come near me when I was writing that. It all came from up here.”

I laughed as he touched the side of his head. “Good to know all those years at Harvard Law taught you something other than corporate jargon.”

“Open the boxes, little devil,” he sipped his champagne, nudging the boxes towards me.

Both were a dark blue velvet, unlabeled. They were closed with a silver ribbon. The first one I grabbed was about the size of a book, and something rattled inside. I undid the bow, lifting the lid. Inside was a Kindle. I gasped, pulling it out and looking it over.

“Harvey,” I grinned, mouth falling open. “You did not.”

“But I did,” he smiled brightly. “Unlimited.”

I could jump his bones from across the table. “Have I ever told you how much I love you?”

“Well, after you find out I got you a case, a Pop Socket, and one of those stands with the remote clicker so you don’t even have to hold it, you might love me a little more.” I squealed, pushing out of my chair as I crashed into him. We nearly tipped backwards. Harvey laughed, rubbing my sides as I latched onto him. “I knew you’d appreciate this. I know we haven’t been together much, but I remembered you showed me a video of some girl who had one.” “You remembered that?” A new set of tears choked my voice.

“Of course I did. And I also remember you telling me that if I bought you another set of earrings you’d use them to pierce my ears, so that option went out the window.”

I swatted his chest, Harvey’s smile easy as he eased me off of him. “This is perfect, thank you so much.”

“Of course, my dear. Now open the next one.”

What could be better than a Kindle Unlimited? With a stand AND a remote to turn the pages for me. Harvey has no idea what he’s done, I’ll literally never get out of bed again.

Practically ripping the box in half, I take off the lid and peer inside.

I blink a few times, looking from him to the box. “My passport?”

“Yup.”

“I feel like there is something I’m not getting here.”

“There is.”

“Are you gonna tell me or make me guess?”

“I’m not that mean,” he rolled his eyes.

“I mean you have been ignoring me for the past month,” I feigned being upset, letting out a little yelp when he threw a piece of broccoli at me. “You're literally four years old.”

“We’re going to China.”

Everything stopped moving. I dropped the box, my small, navy blue passport skittering across the floor. My ears buzzed, my fingers buzzed. “I- What?”

Harvey grinned. Fuck, I missed that grin. “We’re going to China. We won the case last night, and I am desperate for some time with you. You’ve always wanted to go, so why not now? I have everything set up. We’re gonna stay in the mountains, we’re gonna go hiking and see some shows. I also know you’ve wanted to-”

“We’re going to China?” I had to make sure I heard him right? I’ve been learning the language for years now, engrossed with their rich culture and history. The cuisine, the art, the music… everything. Had I been in a different timeline, I would’ve moved there.

“Yes, my love. We’re going to China. Two weeks.”

“Two weeks?” My eyes nearly fell out of my skull. “I can’t take two weeks off of-”

“Yn,” he cut me off, knowing I was going to spiral into a never ending list of reasons of 'why this and why that'. “It’s all been taken care of. All you have to do is pack a bag and get you cute ass in my car on Sunday morning. Don’t worry about anything else.”

“But-But Harvey… what the FUCK? WE’RE GOING TO CHINA? Oh my god, I have to call Donna.”

“Can you call Donna tomorrow? I have other things I’d like to do before you go blabbering to her about how amazing and awesome I am for planning this.”

I eyed him suspiciously. “Donna planned this, didn’t she?"

“She did find the panda place. And the art festival. But everything else was my doing. You can applaud now.” Cocky, arrogant son of a bitch. My cocky, arrogant son of a bitch, but one nonetheless.

I looked at him, dumbfounded. He did all this for me, just because he had a crazy workload. I feel like it should be the opposite, me pampering him, congratulating him on his huge win. Not him fueling my book obsession and planning my dream trip.

But it was yet another reason I loved him more and more every day. He just did these things, without prompting. Without need. He felt like he was neglecting me, leading to… all of this.

We ate our dinner, chatting about anything other than the case. I asked about it, twice, and he completely side-stepped my attempt. I wanted to know, but if he didn’t want to talk, I wouldn’t push. I told him the plot of this terrible Mafia romance book I finished earlier in the week, and he listened to every grating, awful point I made about it. All with a dopey smile on his face.

Harvey cleared the plates, setting them in the sink. He brought more champagne, the strawberries and the cherries. In a calm silence, we devoured them, eyes raking over each other. I risked a look below the table, seeing just exactly where he wanted the next phase of the night to go.

“You looking at it makes it worse, you know,” Harvey leaned back in his chair, my legs propped in his lap. He stroked his hand up and down, fingers dipping into one of the holes in my jeans.

“Good,” I smiled, a sinful intent in my eyes.

He looked from my smile to my eyes and back down. With a curse, he threw my legs off his lap and pulled my chair close to his. Harvey enveloped his mouth with mine, the sweet taste of chocolate mixed with the sour berry and tarte champagne. Every flavor on his tongue became my own.

I was in his lap the next second, legs folded against his thighs. Harvey kept me firmly planted. Steady. He wouldn’t dare let me fall. I got lost in him, suddenly aware just how long it had been since I truly had him. Truly tasted him. Truly craved him.

He stood, taking me with him. The familiar route to our bedroom whirled by. I landed on the bed with a soft bounce, tugging on the collar of his shirt until he laid on top of me.

“So demanding,” he whispered on my lips. I wrapped my legs around his hips to emphasize my need. “Fuck… I love it when you get like this.”

“You made me this way, Harvey,” I pleaded, eyes catching him.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been able to give you what you deserve,” Harvey sighs. It’s not heavy, but it’s noticeable. “Let me take care of you, Yn.”

“I just need you to-”

“I know, my love. Let me worship you. Treat you how you deserve. You’ve been so patient with me, now let me return the favor.”

Well, I’d be stupid to deny him.

Delicately, he kissed down my torso, lifting my shirt over my head and throwing it for tomorrow's problem. He removed my socks, then my jeans. From ankle to knee, he kissed and bit my skin, making me squirm against the sheets.

Every nerve ending in my body was on fire, the tips of my fingers and toes pulsing with anticipation. With the last remaining pieces of my clothes gone, he spread my legs, kneeling to the ground.

The sight of Harvey Specter on his knees between my thighs was… empowering. Not that he hasn’t tasted me with his tongue, I’ve just… always been on top. Never so… exposed.

A heady sigh left my lips, body going lax with the first pass of his tongue on me. I clenched my legs against his ears, muffling my whines. He pushed them against the mattress, eyes pinning me as he sank his teeth into the muscle of my thigh.

“You know better than to hide those pretty moans from me, my love.” Yes, I do know better. “Scream my fucking name if you want.”

I just might.

He made quick work of me, practiced movements easily sending me up and up and up. He’d slow back down, torture me with more bruising marks on my thighs while I writhed and begged for him to let me release. I arched up off the bed when he added his fingers.

I was so close, a month's worth of pent up desire threatening me all at once. My mind and body were on fire. I couldn’t hold off any longer. I chase that high, circling my hips against his face. His hands, firmly planted on my inner thighs, I shook, that month long ache finally subsiding before roaring back to life.

When I thought he’d stop, he kept going. Around and around and around his tongue went. Teasing and sending an endless supply of pleasure through my body.

“H-Harvey,” I gasped, my body up in flames over his never ending devotion.

“I’ll stop when I want to. Fuck Yn, you taste so sweet. Almost as sweet as hearing you beg for me to let you cum. Can you take one more?”

Again, I nodded, content to let him spend however long he wanted at my aching core. My second release came much sooner than the first. He didn’t bother teasing me, knowing it would ruin all his hard work if he stopped. With a few more sweeping passes, he licked me clean, sitting back on his heels to look at me. He wiped my cum off on the back of his hand, giving me a wicked grin.

“You are so fucking beautiful, all laid out for me to do as I please,” Harvey said, beginning to strip.

“Please Harvey, have me. Any way that you like.”

He chuckled, kneeling over me. “I will, but like I said, I want tonight to be all about you.”

“Well I want you to fuck me.” I am not very good at being subtle.

“How can I deny you when you ask so nicely,” he purred, closing our lips together, I parted my legs for him, desperate for the friction of his body on mine. His chest, his stomach, his hands lacing with mine. I needed all of him all over me.

It didn’t take long for him to slip inside me, every inch of him stretching me in the most desirable way. I hummed as he stilled, his need clear in the way his arms shook to keep still.

“Move, please please move,” I begged, threading my hand in his hair. With a reluctant drop of his head, he rolled his hips into mine, our bodies finally meeting in full.

“I was trying to be gentle,” he reasoned.

“Fuck gentle, I need you. I’ve missed you so much.”

“I know my love, I know.”

With each thrust into me, a new sensation bubbled inside me. My toes curled, my back bowed, my eyes fluttered shut. He quickened his pace, heavy breaths falling from his lips into mine. His air was mine. Every muttered curse and moan and praise went straight through me. He needed me as much as I needed him.

~~~~~

With my mind not fully awake, I lazily fling myself off my stomach and onto my back. My arm knocked into something hard, and I squinted against the morning sun. Oh, Harvey.

“Sorry,” I mumbled, crashing back down against the pillow.

He chuckled, kissing the hand that accidentally hit him in the face. “It’s okay.”

“Are you going into the office?” I asked, still keeping my eyes closed. Man this bed is so comfy…

“No?” He said, a question in his tone. “Why would I?”

“Why else are you up so early?”

“I was just looking at you, my love. It’s been a while since I’ve just… looked at the love of my life. Taken the time to appreciate just how fucking stunning you are.”

My heart melted, a lovesick feeling welling up in my chest. I turned over, facing the handsome lawyer and grinned ear to ear. “I’m sure I look fabulous after last night.”

“You’ve never looked hotter. Lips swollen from mine, hair a mess from my hands… your body covered in my-”

“Okay,” I snatched his lips between my fingers, silencing his next words. “I did just wake up, at least let me shower before you destroy me again.”

“Only if I can quote on quote destroy you in the shower before I cook you breakfast and fuck you again on the counter.”

My eyes snapped open, meeting his blown out pupils. “You certainly have a vivid imagination for…” I looked over at the clock on the side of the bed. “... eight thirty-seven AM.”

“Wait till you find out I’ve been awake since six. With nothing to do but plot all the ways I could ruin you.”

I rolled my eyes playfully, offering my lips as a peace offering. He quickly accepted, kissing me deeply. “Man, I missed this.”

“More than you could ever know.”

#harvey x reader #harvey specter x reader #harvey specter smut #harvey specter fanfic #harvey specter x you #harvey specter suits #harvey specter fanfiction #harvey specter #smut #writing #my writing

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schemmentis · 1 month

Text

Revelation - Pt. 2

Pt. 1

Warnings: Depiction/Talking of Anxiety & Depression

Word Count: 1.7k

By the next night, Melissa has had an entire existential crisis. She practically bullied poor Jacob from the living room without meaning to. Seeing him, though, had only reminded her of the previous night's realization and made her decidedly not want to spend time with him. Lest he find something else to say to tip her world upside down all over again.

She's already dreading Monday and being in the same room as you. Except…that's really not true. She's always happy to see you. She just isn't sure what to make of this shift of her understanding of her own feelings. She hardly wants to risk losing you in her life. You have a wonderful relationship. You're her closest friend. She doesn't see Barbara outside of work half as much as she does you.

If she sees you Monday and can't pretend things are as usual, you'll know. You've always been able to read her better than most. Even in the early days of getting to know each other. Now that she's spent the last day or so thinking over practically every moment spent with you since you met she realizes that's part of how you got so close. You were always ready to see beneath the surface of her reactions and responses.

You never let her standoff nature deter you or intimidate you before she accepted you would be around Abbott for a long time as opposed to the others that went in and out. You didn't like all the same things but the things you did you enthusiastically shared with her. The things you didn't, you still appreciated that she liked and would entertain or participate in those things with her. Just because she liked them.

Melissa slumps at the head of her bed with a groan. “Schemmenti, you are so fucked.” She mumbles into her pillow. Not the first time since yesterday she's thought it but it is the first time she's said it out loud.

She's worried about seeing you again, nervous. Still, she knows at the end of every day she'd choose to spend time with you anyway. So, her only choice is to just…see what happens. Melissa Schemmenti hates just seeing what happens. She hates surprises.

Her groan sounds again when her phone rings from somewhere next to her. It's already too late on a Saturday night to be getting called. Double too late when she's been working herself up with thoughts of feelings all day.

She lifts her head enough for one glaring eye to see her screen. The sight of a photo of the two of you you'd insisted on taking, and setting as your contact photo in her phone, lighting up her screen makes her sit up. It's definitely too late for you to call her.

Quickly, she's swiping the accept call button with her thumb. “Hon?”

She hears the sniffle after your quiet ‘hey’ in greeting. She doesn't bother asking if you're alright. She already knows the answer. “Do you need me to come over?”

“It's late…”

“That's not what I asked. Yes or no, Hon?”

She's about to pull the phone away from her ear to make sure she didn't accidentally hang up when you finally answer. “Yes, please.”

“I'll be there in ten, I'll use your spare to get in. Just hang tight for me.” She answers as she pushes away from her bed. She lets you be the one to end the call as she pulls on a hoodie and grabs her car keys. She doesn't bother telling Jacob she's leaving.

With the hour, she makes it to your apartment in eight. She plucks the spare key from its potted plant hiding place and lets herself in. She locks the door behind her, setting the key and her purse to the side table nearby.

She frowns slightly as she glances at the living room and kitchen as she pass through the short hallway to your bedroom.

What feels like forever ago, she had told you about Joe. The aftermath of her marriage and how it made her feel. You'd both been drinking that night but neither of you were drunk. She'd been just tipsy enough to feel comfortable sharing, at least with you. In return, you'd shared your own struggles with depression and anxiety.

Your apartment is not dirty. It's perhaps the normal level of weekend disarray. There are only a few dishes at the side of the kitchen sink. That she would guess is from breakfast. The blankets on your couch aren't folded.

It isn't really messy but Melissa knows these small things aren't like you. You tend to be on top of even these little things since you learned the mess of things can increase your anxiety about your depression worsening. It's small, but she notices.

“Hey,” she greets softly when she steps into your bedroom. She catches your answer, muffled by your blanket held to the lower half of your face.

Melissa sits on the edge of your bed, her legs swinging up to sit properly next to you. As if she has a hundred times before. “C’mon,” She coaxes softly, her hands waving you to her.

After a moment, you shuffle closer to her. Instantly, her arms are around you, holding you to her. You adjust to share your blanket with her.

She scoffs when you attempt to quietly apologize. “Don't give me no apology, Sweetheart. I don't need one. You called, I answered, huh? That's all there is to it. You'd have done the same for me.”

She nods at your soft agreement. You would have. Without question.

“You wanna talk about it?” She asks, in a whisper that sounds more like she's shared a secret.

“I don't know what happened.” You sigh, glad for the way she squeezes her arms around you in reassurance. It lets you feel like you can keep speaking. “Game night at yours was fun and I told myself when I left I'd get home and finish grading those quizzes from Thursday so I wouldn't have to worry about them all weekend. The next thing I knew I'd just been sitting around and scrolling on my phone until late. I figured I'd get up and do them this morning but…”

“Hard day to get outta bed?”

“Something like that. I just kept thinking of everything else I needed to do too and then what if come Monday I still can't even get myself to get up and then the kids will—”

“Shh,” Melissa cuts you off gently. A hand rubbing against your arm to soothe at the same time. “It's okay. You aren't gonna leave the kids like that. I know you. And it's okay to take a day or two off once in a while anyhow. But instead of worryin’ ‘bout Monday, let's worry about right now, alright? Right now, you're gonna stay right here with me and relax. Take a deep breath with me, Hon?”

You do. Following the pattern of Melissa's own breathing that is slow and purposeful. You let yourself slowly start relaxing at her side.

“Good.” She praises quietly when you keep your breath in time with hers. Even after the one requested deep breath. “We’re gonna stay here, and if ya need to talk it out more then I'm here to talk it out with or just listen. Or I can talk ya little ear off until you fall asleep. We’ll worry about everything else tomorrow.”

“I have no idea how your kids stay awake during story time.” You tease her gently, smiling into her shoulder.

“Why’d you think I only read to ‘em when they're real good?” She answers easily. You can hear the smile in her own voice.

“Thank you. For being here.”

Again, Melissa scoffs. “I don't need thanks any more than apologies, sweetheart. I've got you.”

You resolve, as you fight your eyes closing to sleep, that you'll be there whenever Melissa calls you too. No matter the hour. It's only whisper to tell you to not be ridiculous and sleep that has you actually giving in to rest.

When you wake the next morning, Melissa isn't next to you. The distant sound of rustling from your living room tells you she didn't go far though. You bring yourself to rise from your bed, vaguely noticing your full laundry hamper is gone from the corner of the room.

You dont think too hard on it though. You're not fully awake and it wouldn't surprise you if you moved it and forgot. Yet as you continue out to the living room, you do begin to question.

The dishes are washed and on the drying rack on your counter. The fruit bowl you keep for the mornings you don't plan well enough for breakfast so you have something quick is in its usual spot. Though the counter has been cleaned around it and a few of the pieces of fruit you noticed turning are gone.

You turn to see Melissa curled up on your couch. Nestled comfortably in the corner of one of the arm rests. The blankets are folded and laid across the back of the couch. The quizzes you meant to grade this weekend are in a pile next to her.

“Mornin’ Hon.” She greets without looking away from the paper she's marking. She finishes grading that particular students quiz, setting it to your coffee table. The stack on the table, the stack you realize is the ones she's graded, is much larger than the few left next to her on the couch.

“Mel, you didn't have to do all this.”

The hand holding one of your red pens waves your statement away. “It was nothin’. I woke up a little early and couldn't get back to sleep. I figured I could take a little off your mind. So I did.”

You pluck one of your other red pens from the coffee table, claiming the last few quizzes as you sit next to her. “Alright but I'm helping you finish, at least. Then we're going to breakfast.”

“You're gonna bribe me with pancakes to walk around the farmers market at this ungodly hour.” Melissa says. It isn't a question. She already knows it's exactly what's going to happen.

“Yes.” You admit with no sign of regret before you set about finishing the last few quizzes.

#melissa schemmenti fanfiction #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x you #revelation

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margotwhites · 2 months

Text

Jason Todd x female reader

Summary: You pissed him off more than anyone else in the world. With your killing, with the dirty job you do. The truth is, you asked for what was coming for you. And he was more than happy to deliver.

Warnings: SHORT SMUT (it's not super long.) dirty talk, degradation, very mean Jason

Disclaimer: english is NOT my first language, so probably there are mistakes. Feel free to correct me.

Your heels collide against the floor of your apartment. It was a nice place — expensive, full of luxuries that you were able to provide yourself with. You were proud of yourself, really. Accomplishing so much in such a little age. You know how people see you. How your friends perceive you. A rich heir, a daddy’s girl. Little do they know you are your own daddy, or whatever the phrase is. It doesn’t matter.

Little do they know that you kill people for a living. You’re such a sweet girl. So polite and happy. You snicker, thinking about the idiots the surround you. None of them realize your little disfarce. They think you truly are the innocent, charming little girl that makes everyone love her. It’s almost irritating, how nobody ever sees the real you. They don’t seem to realize the person behind the smile, the killer behind the delicate body.

You grab a cigarette, lightning while sipping a Blue Label from an elegant glass of whiskey. Observing Gotham lights from your giant window, that extends from your feet towards the roof. Your office, inside your penthouse apartment. Today, today was a good day. Today you deserved a Blue Label. Nothing more; it wasn’t good enough for a Macallan Valerio 1926, even if you do have the bottle. But it was good enough for a Blue Label.

So you drink, and appreciate the view of Gotham. Gotham, that provides you with so much opportunities. It’s not a city for everyone. Hell, it isn’t the best city for almost anyone. But for you? Gotham was perfect just as it is. Dirty, rough and wicked.

Today is going to be a good night, you think. You couldn’t know how right you were.

Finally. He was finally able to track where that bitch lives. Jason is not one that usually delivers those kind of offensive words towards women. In reality, that’s his line. He is okay with murder, hell, he is one, but misogyny is the line for him. But you. You deserve every single bad word he can thinks of. He despises you.

Six months ago, a bunch of killings started to happen in the higher classes of Gotham. Entrepreneurs being killed at cold blood, for no clear reason. Then, his own targets started to come down too. The crime lords, the drug lords, the sex traffickers, all coming down, one by one. He thought it was a good thing. Someone else is also doing the job. He didn’t felt jealous his targets were being taken down by other hands. Hell, he was happy.

But those who remained, the criminals that remained, those weren’t being taken down. They were growing, expanding their business. And then he thought they would be over too, if not by his hands, by the hands of whoever that was ending everyone with such ability. But it wasn’t the case. He realized, maybe too late, that there were specific man who had protection.

With a quick research of his own, asking the right questions at the right contacts, he found out. It wasn’t a vigilante who was ending the criminals or the business man. It was a hired assassin.

And he knew he had to take you down when you started killing innocent people for money. When it wasn’t just the douchebags anymore. It was just rich people, being killed because your clients wanted to take over the money or the business. Does he have a huge amount of sympathy for rich snobs? No. But an innocent is an innocent. And he wasn’t letting that slide.

But you had a pattern, he realized. No women or children. Those were not killed. Mostly, your victims were rich, white man. It doesn’t make it any less worst for Jason. Well, maybe a little, but even so, he needs to take you down. But what really pissed him off is not the work you do. What pisses him off the most is how your always, always one step ahead of him.

But not anymore. He was finally able to track your home, after three months of search. Gotham is a huge city, and you hid your tracks so well he didn’t even know your name till now. He never saw your face. He just knows you’re a woman. And now, where you live. Well, he expects he is right about it, because if he isn’t, he’s going to invade an extremely wealthy apartment and that might cause problems.

So he just hopes his informants were right.

You were inside your bathtub, big enough for ten people, reading a deliciously smutty book and drinking red wine. You didn’t have much time for romance in your life, unfortunately. So you read books, that deliver you a tingling sensation in the pit of your stomach. Your hair was up in a bun, showing your elegant features.

Jason enters the apartment through the window of one of the living rooms. The sight of the luxurious apartment, bought with the blood of innocent people, disgusted him. He stepped carefully, observing the surroundings. The light was off. Maybe you were out working or attending to a ball. He knew you did that a lot. He gets into one of the corridors, and realizes there is no one in this floor. But there is stairs in the end of the corridor, and he goes up to the second floor.

The second floor is just as big as the first, and every light is off. He enters inside another living room. No — a library. Then at a second kitchen, a cinema room, and a lot of another stupid luxuries that he didn’t give a shit about. But there is a room he didn’t check already, and he opens the door. Big bed. A piano inside the room. More walls filled with books and paintings. Very elegant, cozy.

He notices then, a small light coming from under a door. He grabs his gun, and with no second thought, opens the door forcefully, making it slam on the wall. He points the gun at you, that is still inside the ridiculously big bathtub, full of bubbles. You close your book and stares at him, and then he stares at you, and for one second Jason truly believes he is in the wrong place, because there is no way a woman with that face could be a hired killer.

But then you smile. “Jason Todd. Came here to join me?”

A chill runs down his spine. How the fuck did you know about his identity? He tries not to demonstrate how shaken he is by your revelation.

“Get out of the tub. Hands up in the air where I can see.” He says, his voice cold. It sends a chill down your spine.

“That’s not a proper way to treat a lady, you know. I’d like some privacy.” You say, voice sweet like venom.

“Pity. Hands up.” He insists on the matter, gripping his gun tighter, his finger on the trigger. This woman is dangerous and he knows it. A single moment of inattention, she can end him like a snake.

You chuckle, and stands up, the bubbles and foam running down your exposed body. You step cautiously out of the tub, not really mind the fact that he could see your whole body in full display. Your mind is worried with a different thing: just how the hell you will get out of this situation.

You could kill him, yes. It would be harder than your usual target, but you both are inside of your home. He’s in your territory. Even if he’s the one holding the gun, you still have the upper hand; you just need to distract him enough to catch one of your daggers.

But the truth is, you don’t really wanna kill him. Yes, he’s been a pain in the ass the last six months. But he was a good man. You respected that, eve if you’re not good yourself.

"At least be a gentleman and handle me that towel." You say, pointing at the towel hanging close to where Jason stands. He thinks for a moment. Maybe it's a trick. But you are indeed naked, and he feels a little bad exposing a woman at an arrest while being completely naked.

So he turns around slightly to grab the towel, and that's all the time you need to burst running through the bathroom door. As soon as he realizes he curses loudly and goes after you, but you already caught a dagger that was in a counter.

He thinks about shooting you, that would make it all easier. But something inside his guts doesn't allow him to. So he keeps pointing at you, a dagger in your hand, and you're ready to strike.

The chill of the cold air makes shivers run down your naked body. you're still dripping wet, the bun now undone, your hair falling down till it's complete length.

Jason catches his breath. You were beautiful. He was working though, no time to get distracted by skin. Even if it is the most perfect thing he ever seen.

"Drop the weapon and get into your knees. Or I'll shoot." He says, coldly.

"I wouldn't shoot me if I were you. You'll create enemies I don't think you're interested in." You reply, and you're not bluffing.

You're crazy, he realizes. To burst towards him while he is holding a gun. He missed, yes, but he could have shot you accidentally is some vital place, and he doesn't want that either. You're nuts.

"On your knees. Now." He says, almost barking. Before he can say anything else, you strike forward. He shoots, but misses. In the meantime, you are able to draw a deep cut in his arm.

He hisses at the cut in his forearm, and you're about to deliver another one to his chest, but he grabs your wrist , shoving you against the wall. He is physically stronger than you, so you'll need to get out of the situation in another way.

"Be fucking quiet." He says, when you open your mouth to say something. You smirk, staring at him.

He can't help but feel attracted towards you, completely bare against that wall, his hand holding your wrists upon your hand. He looks at you and an urge to fuck you right there gets him.

Because he hate you, he really does. Even more now that you managed to play him for a fool. He hates you, and he hates that you're so hot, so tempting. He hates that he can't help but stare at your tits, or notice how small you look compared to him, and how tight you would be.

And he hates it even more because he knows he can't.

"You want me, don't you?" You say, noticing his silence. It's just a whisper. But you have a smile on your face. And then he knows, you want it too.

But you're still a damn assassin who needs a lesson. And he's glad to give it to you.

He grabs your hair, and with force shoves you into the ground, on your knees in front of him. You frown, looking up at his face. You try to stand up again, but he point the gun at you.

"Stay quiet." He says, his voice breathy. God, is he really going to do this? Yeah. Fuck it. He can see it in your eyes. You desire him too.

So with his other hand he starts to undo his belt, letting in fall on the floor. He opens his zipper, and without shame or regret he pulls his cock out, pumping slowly.

Your eyes widened. Okay. This wasn't what you were expecting, but it's way better than be arrested. So you go for it.

You open your lips, inviting him. He doesn't lose time, shoving his whole length down your throat, making you gag. He still points a gun to your head with one hand, the other moving your head, his balls hitting your chin every single time.

"Fuck- you should quit your job as an assassin, ya know? You're way better like this." He says, mockingly. You get irritated, and tries to push him away to do some snarky comment, but he pulls you into his hips again, making you close your eyes.

You relax your jaw and your throat, and lets him facefuck you. He grunts, you gag, and you don't know for how long the whole ordeal went, but suddenly he grabbed your hair again and pulled you up, his cock slipping out of your mouth with a pop.

"Turn around." He says, harshly.

"Fuck off-" you try to say, even when you feel your legs trembling at his hot, dominant tone.

He scoffs, the sound lightly different because of his mask, and with a pull on your arm makes you turn around. He grabs your ass and open it, kneeling behind you, observing your pussy.

"You're wet. Pathetic slut." He says, and stands up again. He doesn't waste time and shoves himself inside of you, making you moan softly. He was so big, and the stretch was so painfully delicious.

He starts to fuck you like you're a toy, not slowing down and not really giving a damn about your pleas. He grabs your throat, forcing your back against his chest, your breasts tightly pressed against the wall.

"Shut your mouth and take it like the good whore you are." He says in your ear, making irritation grow inside of you. You try to think about something clever to say back to him, anything really, but you can't.

All you can think about is how he hits all the sweet spots inside of you, making you squirm. He slaps your ass, grip tight in your throat.

"God- slow down-" You manage to say.

"Shh. I said for you to be quiet and take it." He says, slapping you again, harder this time.

He gets out of you, and throws you on the bed. You try to create some distance between you two, but he grabs your ankle and pulls you back into him. Not giving you time to think before he slaps your abused cunt.

You let out a little scream, trying to close your legs. No point in it. He forces them open, observing the wet mess that you are.

"Maybe I won't arrest you, after all. Maybe I should keep you to myself. As my personal slut. What do you think?" He whispers, and puts his dick back into you. You moan, unable to respond, too focused in getting fucked.

His hips slam against you, reaching a point so deep no one ever reached before.

"Jason- oh God-" You say, hands going to his shoulders, bringing him closer.

He chuckles, one hand going between your bodies to pinch your clit. You arch your back at the soft pain, moaning.

"You like that? You like being fucked like a whore?" He asks, giving you a little slap on the face. It's not hurtful, just a reminder of who is in charge.

And you find yourself nodding, too lost in the pleasure.

The pleasure is like a wave, with each thrust of his hips you find yourself moaning louder, almost shouting his name. He takes his mask off, and kisses you, his tongue invading your mouth and tasting your lips.

He moves positions again, putting you on all fours. It keeps going for a long time, your eyes rolling up your skull, one of his hands on your ass and the other one grabbing your hair, pulling your head backwards.

"Fuck- you're tight for a whore-" He says, chuckling.

"That's because I'm- oh- I'm not one!" You say, irritated.

"Oh, you don't like me calling you a whore? What about my little whore? Sounds better?"

You clench around him, because yes, it does sounds better. He notices and chuckles again, a little breathy, but still able to talk.

"That's what I thought."

After everything, he did actually arrest you. He gave you time to put your clothes on, the gun always pointed. But it doesn't matter. You'll be free in two days, and you both know that.

And Jason finds himself... excited about the thought of your freedom.

__________________________________________________

the smut was a little shorter than what I planned, but I intend on doing more of this type of fics. with more smut. hehe.

#jason todd #jason todd reader #batfamily #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd deserves better #jason todd x you #jason todd blurb #jason todd fluff #jason x reader #jason todd smut

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waayfo · 1 year

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LET THE FEAR YOU HAVE FALL AWAY, I'VE GOT MY EYE ON YOU

ׄ     ׅ  ★̶̲ ITOSHI SAE X READER

ׄ     ׅ  ★̶̲ CONTAINS : ooc sae, pet names, hurt/comfort, fluff, soft!itoshi sae, angst, readers can draw

ׄ     ׅ  ★̶̲ A/N : this is inspired from Yes To Heaven - Lana Del Rey and please forgive me if there are mistakes. If there is, you can tell me so I can fix it.

A loud slap sounded and succeeded in making the room quiet. "Know your place! Sae is only dating you out of boredom." The words came out easily without thinking about your feelings at that time. You hold your cheek that was slapped. While your heart is filled with anger. but he didn't stop there, hurtful words kept coming out of her mouth, "You've never been good at anything, I wonder why Sae chose you over me. You can only draw. Can drawing really make your life happy? Success? This world doesn't need such talent. Which means, you are useless and so is your existence."

The woman left you speechless. She also closed the door with a bang. While you just sat limp in the chair. “Is this talent of mine useless… ? Am I really that useless?" No matter how hard you try, even if you give up your health, people will never be satisfied with the results you give. They keep making fun of your hard work without seeing and helping your struggle. "If so, do I deserve to be happy and have Sae?"

If I'm useless, then I don't deserve to be happy. Such thoughts keep running through your mind, until you don't realize that you are pushing yourself too much. And of course your actions are realized by Sae.

"Hey, what's wrong, babe? Are you okay?" You show a surprised expression. You notice me. "Of course I'm fine." Sae let out a sigh. "I don't like it when you lie to me. Honestly, are you in trouble?"

"No? Who dares to find trouble with me who is Itoshi Sae's lover?" You said proudly. "You're right. But your recent changes say otherwise. You always skip your meals and choose to continue with work. I also often see you staying up late or until the morning for work. And I also rarely see you draw, usually you always draw something that's around you. I won't be mad, maybe I can help you."

You just stay silent and stare at Sae without expression. "That means there really is a problem, huh?" Sae sat next to you. His hands cupped your face and played with your cheeks. "Tell me. Please?" "Promise you won't be angry?" "Uh.. yes?"

You took a deep breath before recounting the incident from the beginning. Without you realizing it, tears keep falling from your eyes as long as you tell it. Until finally forming a puddle on the floor. Your voice broke from holding back sobs. Sae's hand is now stroking your back to calm you down, and you know Sae very well. He couldn't calm anyone down and didn't know what to do. So when he does that, you feel touched and appreciate Sae's efforts.

"Sae, do I... deserve to be happy? I can do nothing but draw. I can't help you or anyone else either. All I do is mess up. And also... do you really love me and not kidding? This keeps haunting me when I'm going to sleep. I want to be the best for you and othe—" your words stopped because Sae kissed you suddenly.

"My love, I'm glad that you are willing to tell me all this when it is so excruciating. Let your fear go by telling me everything. you deserve to be happy And don't let that fear take away your happiness. It's okay even if your only talent is drawing. Every painting you make is meaningful to you and to me. Your talent makes many hearts move and gives peace to anyone who sees it. I am at this point because of your presence, your smile, and your paintings which always make me calm. I will always love you; anywhere, anytime, and even if it means giving up my life just to be able to meet you and be with you forever. And wherever I am, whether I'm in a crowd of people, my eyes will always be on you."

"You are a precious person for me. You are a star for my moon that is always together. If you want, I can give you many reasons why I love you so much." Your tears broke again. Now are not tears of sadness, but are tears of joy. You are truly grateful for having Sae. Every action and word he does to you always manages to make you fall in love with him again and again. Makes you even more reluctant to let other people take him from you.

"I love you," Your hug is getting tighter. "I love you more."

"By the way, my love. What's that person's name?"

"Why?"

"Just curious."

#konstelasiv fanfic #blue lock x reader #blue lock fluff #bllk x reader #bllk x you #blue lock x you #blue lock x y/n #blue lock imagines #itoshi sae x reader #itoshi sae headcanons #itoshi sae x you #sae itoshi x reader #blue lock headcanons #get yourself itoshi sae

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the-emeralds-incorrect · 4 months

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Barty Crouch Jr — perception

Barty has a certain reputation around the school — on one hand, his father’s the head of DMLE and he’s from a prominent Light family, but on the other, he’s a Slytherin and best friends with the likes of Rosier and Black, known from being old and Dark families.

He’s also impulsive, and often gets into fights. He’s always arguing, quick to draw his wand, and rumoured to dabble in Dark Arts; in his fifth year, when he hits fifteen, almost nobody dares to cross him. The teachers don’t like him, and Filch outright seethes every time he sees him. He has gotten into detention more times than anyone can count, but never for a long time — he can keep his worse deeds quiet, after all.

After OWL results get released, nobody knows what his are. Half of the castle is quite shocked he didn’t get kicked out for failing every class, but the teachers start taking longer glances at him.

That passes after a few months, when every one of them realizes his record-breaking results will not transfer into him putting any actual work into class. Barty has an infuriating habit of not turning in homework, but since Hogwarts only counts in the end year exams for passing the class, they can’t do anything else than put him into detention for one more afternoon, and they gave up on that method around his fourth year, when it became clear it wasn’t working.

All in all, he’s pretty respected in his house, and very much feared in the others. He enjoys his reputation. He knows it infuriates his father, which is always an appreciated bonus, and will establish himself as trustworthy amongst the Dark families. His friends can vouch for him, but Barty likes having a guarantee.

Nobody knows how he and Regulus fall into the same bed — first after nightmares, even in first year, when both of them needed every bit of comfort they could get, then after Sirius leaves and Regulus wakes up in the middle of the night screaming, and finally every single night, and Barty can finally bury his face in Regulus’ neck and breathe in his scent and think /he’s mine and only mine, forever/. On the other side of the room Evan laughs at them, mutters something about them finally stopping pining after years, but Barty knows he’s genuinely happy for them. They leave the empty bed in case either Dorcas, Pandora, or both want to stay the night.

Nobody knows what his plans are after Hogwarts. He aced his OWLs, the first 12 O’s in the history of the school — he guesses he should be proud of that, but really, he did it because he was bored — and to beat his father’s 10 O’s and 2 EE’s. Nobody knows how many NEWTs he plans to take, and neither does he. He will most likely decide last minute, just like he did before. Nobody knows how quickly his brain memorizes knowledge and forgets the most basic deadlines.

Nobody knows how his father treats him, how he treated mama when she was alive. Nobody knows how the ring on his right middle finger was once hers, a promise ring she got from her family before they all died, before she had to leave the country, before she got married and wasted her life. Nobody knows she taught him her language, how he calls Regulus kochanie just as she called him, with love dripping out of every single letter.

Nobody knows, except him and his friends. They know.

They know the way he lets Regulus and Evan rant about quidditch despite having no passion for the sport himself. How he can duel freely with Dorcas, because they’re always on the same level, how they keep track of who won and how they’re almost always tying the score. How Pandora tells him about her most recent experiments, asks him to help her with the next one — meaning to help him steal the ingredients needed for potions from Slughorn — and how he always agrees.

And he’s more than fine with all of that. Barty Crouch Jr likes his secrets and will continue to have them. He will keep it secret when he murders his father with his friends by his side. He will keep it secret when he threatens Sirius no-longer-Black with the Cruciatus curse if he ever dares to hurt Regulus’ feelings again, even show his face to the current Black heir. How he will make Regulus the current Black Lord if his parents dare to coerce him into doing something he will regret for the rest of his life for the sake of the family.

He will not, however, keep it secret when he marries his darling Regulus. He will not keep it secret when he exposes (after the bastard’s death) his father for every type of abuse that fell into their family. He will not keep it secret when he buries the name Crouch under the ground, and takes his husband’s.

Barty, as every (future) Black, has a flare for dramatics, after all.

#barty crouch jr #bartylus #the emeralds #slytherin skittles #regulus black #starkiller #I love them your honor #hp #harry potter #marauders era #marauders #dead gay wizards #barty x regulus #Evan’s character rants

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cerise-on-top · 3 months

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Got any Farah, Valeria, & Laswell hcs? Anything, really- I'm dying for my girls 🤲🤲🤲

Hello! Yeah, I was able to come up with a few! I already wrote a few for Valeria here! Somehow, I forgot to put them in my masterlist, though, which I have since fixed! Thank you for making me aware of this, though :-) These are general Headcanons, though, since I had an easier time coming up with those and because you didn't specify, I hope that's okay!

Valeria, Farah and Laswell HCs

Valeria: She’s always had quite the temper, even when she was young. While she may not have been spoiled to hell and back as a child, she usually got what she wanted, as long as it wasn’t something extraordinarily big, her parents always took care of her like that. Valeria loved her mother, they got along very well with each other, and she also took after her, having inherited her personality for the most part. Her father was a bit calmer than the two of them, but that didn’t mean they didn’t get along either. Whereas her mother would encourage her to do most things, her father would try to talk sense into her if it was a bad idea. She often sulked because of it, which is why she didn’t like her father as much as her mother, but as she got older she realized he meant well. Sometimes she still thinks about his advice, but the both of them died a long time ago, so most things they’ve told her are a distant memory by now. Valeria may be successful with what she’s doing and doesn’t like being told what to do, but sometimes she does wish she could still eat some sweets with her parents like she used to.

Joining the military actually wasn’t her first choice of career. She tried many places, but no one would take her, so she opted for the military, which welcomed her with open arms. She got paid. Not well, but she received the money, which was important since her parents couldn’t leave her with too much. They didn’t have very much either, so there wasn’t much to be inherited. Because she’s a woman, a few creeps tried to harass her, but she had none of it and beat all three of them up herself and on her own. Ever since that incident she wasn’t a big fan of the military either, but no other place would take her. However, it showed just how capable she was and earned her a lot of respect. A few other men would try to make advances towards her, but she shot them down every time. However, whenever another female soldier would jokingly flirt with her, that’s when she’d give it her all, making it her goal to fluster her beyond all hell. She’s spent a few evenings and nights with a few female soldiers, but was always willing to rip a male soldier’s dick off if he was being too friendly with her. During her time as a soldier she also realized that she preferred women.

She didn’t always hate Alejandro, actually. Back in the day, they got along very well. He was a man, yes, but he had enough respect for her. It wasn’t a given, even if it should have been, but she appreciated it. Whenever they sparred he gave it his all as well and never looked down on her. In his eyes, the two of them were equals and it showed. Valeria could appreciate that. She liked him, she spent a night with him but realized she hated that sort of stuff with men. He was the final realization for her that Valeria does not like men. It didn’t make her hate him at first, though. Only when he insisted on the two of them being a thing did she develop some form of disdain for him. Once she told him that she could never feel the same way, he stopped. However, he also started treating her a bit differently since he was in love with her. As he rose in ranks, he was a bit harsher on her than the other soldiers, usually dissatisfied with anything she did. He didn’t even notice that, but Valeria did. Therefore he became just another scum to her.

Farah: Before her town got attacked, she actually had a pretty happy childhood. She was sweet and kind as a kid, she got along well with her parents and her brother and she had a few close friends. Farah loved going outside to play, sometimes even inviting her parents to make potions with her in a bucket filled with water, sand and rocks. Her parents were always afraid of the Russians invading and tried to keep their children safe regardless of what happened, but in the end they were unable to. It hit Farah pretty hard, she loved her parents. Even now she misses them dearly since they always took such good care of her and her brother. At least she still had her brother. Farah knew she was the younger one out of the two of them, so she likely should have been the one to be protected, but once her town got attacked she became determined to make sure her brother would stay with her. Drastic times called for drastic measures, so she actually has killed people just so her brother could stay alive. It was around that time that other people realized how she was a very caring person still and could be trusted. Slowly, through that realization, she was able to gather a small force that could help her.

Farah is a pretty good leader. The people she works with adore her because, under that rough exterior, she’s still a good person. All her brothers and sisters know she can be trusted with just about anything. She rarely ever says no upon hearing a request of one of her people, knowing fully well what it’s like to need something. As she’s been through a lot herself, she always has an open ear for her brothers and sisters. While there’s not always time to listen to everyone’s concerns, if she does have time she’ll listen to you intently. Farah knows a lot more about her people than she lets on, that ranges from how the latest battle has gone to how her sister’s family is doing. She’s never one to turn down someone in need, always offering food and shelter. I know she may seem stern, because she has to be in order to be a good leader, but deep down she’s still the same kind girl that she’s always been. Her people would give up just about anything for her, and they do. One day, Farah dreams, Urzikstan will be free, it will be safe and it will prosper, its people won’t have anything to fear anymore. Trade will continue, the people will be happy and she can finally lay down her weary head and rest for a bit. But until then, she swore she’ll fight and fight until everything is finally over.

She’s never actually been in love. When she had the chance to develop a crush she was too young. Now that she’s older she doesn’t have time for anything lovey dovey in the slightest. Alex was the first person she ever developed a crush on. He may have seemed like an enemy at first, but it quickly enough became evident that that couldn’t be further from the truth. He was a good man, someone who could be trusted no matter what. He was loyal to a fault as well, which Farah could appreciate. However, she never told him, swallowing her feelings down instead no matter how intense they became. Yet, she sort of did always look forward to his small gestures of affection. Alex is a physically affectionate guy, so he’d sometimes pat her shoulder, put a hand on her shoulder or gently bump her arm to show he liked her. Farah is severely touch starved, so it made for a good combination. One time, he asked if she would like a hug, to which she said yes. To this day, Farah thinks about that hug since it was the first one she had received in seven or eight years. It may not have seemed like she was swayed at the time, but she was very content afterwards.

Laswell: Laswell’s parents didn’t really care too much for her. Don’t get me wrong, they provided for her physical needs, but they barely looked after her in any other regard, thinking she was happy because she had everything she could ever need. Laswell may have been strong because of it, even then, but she did wish her parents had cared more about other things as well, such as how she was doing emotionally. There were quite a few things that hurt her during her childhood, but she barely had anyone who would support her during her rough times. Her parents only ever wanted to see her happy and content, but barely made any effort to actually keep her as such. Laswell knew fairly early on that she was a lesbian and did come out to her parents, but that’s all that happened. It was never discussed again afterwards, even if her father would sometimes say that she would “find the right guy eventually” while talking to other people. Laswell has called him out on it numerous times, but he always made it about him and how he was the victim for saying something that made his daughter uncomfortable. Laswell didn’t stay in contact with her parents for very long once she moved out.

Even back when she was a child, Laswell knew she wanted to do something more exciting than be a hairdresser, waitress or cook. She wanted to do something with plenty of action, but at the same time she wanted to study and go to university. And thus she combined her wishes and started going to university at first. Afterwards, sometime in her twenties, she started to work for the CIA. She wasn’t treated with very much respect there at first, being a woman working there and all. But she didn’t let that disrespect get her down. In fact, on the outside, she stayed professional, but on the inside she took mental notes on who treated her badly and who didn’t. It soon enough became evident that Laswell knew what she was doing, even if her master’s degree should have been proof enough that there was some intelligence in that noggin of hers. However, soon enough she was transferred. In fact, she was transferred many times before she became a station chief, but it only showed just how competent she was in her field. Laswell has since saved thousands of lives and is proud of it. To her, such a thing is her calling and she wants to continue doing so for as long as she can, all the dangers be damned.

Laswell adores her wife. In fact, “Laswell” isn’t her original last name, she took that of her wife. At first they played with the idea of combining their names, but Laswell wanted fairly little to do with her parents at that point. Plus she wanted to show her father that she never “found the right guy”. So her being named Laswell is purely out of spite. While she may not be at home all the time, or very often, for that matter, she makes sure to bring her wife a gift every time she comes home. It can be something small, such as a souvenir she found while she was abroad, or it could be something along the lines of a golden ring that unfolds into an astronomical sphere. She needs to pamper her wife like that and make sure she knows Laswell loves her to the moon and back. Money isn’t an issue for her, she gets paid very well. Even if the biggest reward for her doing what she does is seeing her wife smile. Every time she sees her give her a big smile she’s reminded of why she does what she does, and that’s the most wonderful thing for her. Even so, not many people know about Laswell’s wife, only a select few do. It’s a safety measure since she knows people will target her. Although she’s a diplomatic kind of person, if anyone ever were to hurt her wife, then that person can be certain they’ll never walk freely among the sunlight again.

#cod #valeria garza #farah karim #kate laswell #if it was up to me I'd make Valeria and Laswell lesbians. and so I did because this is my blog #and because I wanna kiss them and cook them a nice and healthy meal that reminds them of me! I can't cook to save my life but I'll learn ho #Farah is into Alex so she isn't a lesbian in my book!#“a gay person's straight ship is the most powerful thing in the universe”#you can't tell me Alex wouldn't treat Farah right though! she deserves a guy like him who's hopelessly in love with her #sometimes I think about a poly relationship with the two of them because I love both of these characters dearly #just think about it: being hugged by two strong people at once! what's not to love about this concept?#cooking them a meal and receiving a kiss from the both of them oh god please someone wife me up already #Alex would get all three of you something cute and matching! like plushies!#he'd get a nice dog plushie. Farah gets a cat plushie. you get a plushie of an animal that reminds you of him that's still cute!#like a small bunny or a small birdie!#and just so you know both of them are good at hugging! they're both really strong and good at making you feel protected!#man I love Farah and Alex! they're such good characters! Alex was the first character I truly liked when watching MW1 #I was so sad to see he wasn't in mw2 but!!! he's in MW3!!! My boy is back in business!#can I also just mention that you can play as Farah in MW3? isn't that also just so cool? again I squealed!#I squealed every time at the cafe I stayed at when I saw you could play as one of the girls! good thinking activision!

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carefulfears · 8 months

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season four is just so unbearably heavy…so much of it really is like waking up gasping for air. and it’s too late. every realization, every appreciation, is something to mourn. scully standing in max fenig’s trailer after his death, remarking how similar he is to mulder…these complex, deep, passionate men. her small smile to the floor. the way her eyes tear up when skinner catches the blood on her sleeve, asks if she is okay, demands she go get checked out, despite her claims that she’s “fine.” how sharply confrontational it is, for that quiet truth to be acknowledged, by someone.

the look on her face when the waiters started singing “happy birthday” at the bar. the way she stared across at her partner, who has never once remembered her birthday in 4 years. who “refuses to believe” that she is dying. but whom, she realizes in that moment, knows just as well as she does, that it’s almost over. and they don’t talk about it. but it’s almost suffocating, in that moment, over a sparkler and keychain, because he does know, and he is thinking about it, and this is what he has to offer. one last birthday, just so she will have it. just so she will have been celebrated, would have been loved, would have been sang to.

that final moment, outside max’s trailer, when she says what the keychain means to her…this silly little commemorative keychain that she sees the whole entire world in, that she sees all of him in. and he’s just silently staring at her. and something in him is breaking. she’s everything, and she sees him, and she’s dying. they don’t talk about it. she’s fine. but they spend their evenings out at bars together. and they pick up on everything, everything reminds them of each other. they’re very kind to each other, overly cautious, but they won’t say it. maybe if they move, they’ll spook something. each other. the cancer. the blood is already in the water, and they just keep driving, keep moving. miss each other while they still have each other, grieve each other next to each other. they’re going through it alone.

#ignore her she just watched tempus fugit/max and wants to smash her brain into a wall #this isn’t even half of it honestly because there’s so much overrunning loss and grief in these eps as well #need to do a whole other post on max’s death but also agent pendrell’s as well #txf.txt #tempus fugit #max

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ladyviserra · 2 years

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we’ll we get a part 3 of The Sweetest Betrayal?

I loved the fic so much btw💗

The Sweetest Betrayal | Aemond Targaryen

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Female!Targaryen!Reader

Summary: Aemond makes his decision on what he wants to do, what he really wants...more than anything.

Warnings: incest, curse words, arguments, mentions of deaths, war, THE ENDING!

Part 1 Part 2

A/N: I guess you figured out this is the last part of this series. It has been so fun to write it and I am glad you enjoyed it. I have been away from writing since it's going to be a busy year for me, but I managed to finish this. Also, some people die and don’t blame me for that since the spinning wheel made that decision instead of me. Anyway, thank you for the love you gave to this fic and for your patience I really appreciate it and now onto the ending.

Alicent had screamed the doors down before anyone came to her rescue, finding her broken on the floor, leaning next to the wooden thing she just banged on. Her tears stained, leaving her ugly as her eldest said.

Aegon sent for Aemond and finally got the first word out of her " NO! " The dowager queen nearly stood up, still feeling the cracks the shock left her.

" Lord damn you woman, spit it out! " The king was frustrated. His forehead wrinkled at the state his mother was found in.

" Aemond... " She began, giving up until she noticed how her son was getting angrier. " He fled. " A real confusion was put on him. " Fleed? What does that mean? "

" He betrayed us. " If his hair wasn't white it would start to be. " How what did he do? "

" He was with Daemon's daughter. With Y/n. " The king growled in anger, kicking the nearby chair, throwing the vase, and screaming his lungs out.

" He left us for her! " With Aemond's leave, the greens were in ruins, not only did they lose a strong character, but also the biggest dragon Vhagar went with him, which left them in great loss.

" Oh, what will come of us? " Alicent couldn't believe her mind, that all she was living through was real.

" Fuck him, let's get this war over with. " Aegon left his screaming mother who might have brought some sense into him if he didn't rush away.

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The air around his face felt cold, but it wouldn't stop him from going back to his home, his love. Vhagar too had some understanding of it since she was flying quicker than she would usually. Perhaps she could sense her rider's big wish for getting to Dragonstone as quick as possible.

Before he could even spot the island, he saw a dot in the sky which flew around, thinking it was one of the Blacks he decided to follow it. His sapphire eye glowed when he realized it was Y/n, his beloved. He hurriedly pulled Vhagar to go higher in the sky, which she did with swift moves.

The other dragon, calmly flowed in the sky, until realizing there was another dragon close by. Alerting Y/n who let her dragon lightly lower itself preparing for the possible danger the dragon and its rider could cause to them. However, it did take long for Y/n to realize it was Vhagar. The knowledge of the before unknown dragon worried her, Aemond was with her just this morning, so why would he return again during the day when he could be seen?

Not long after the dragons met on the ground, both lovers jump off them and ran to each other’s arms. Aemond sweetly pushed her head into his neck, hugging her tightly.

“ Aemond, what are you doing here? “ Her eye twitched from the nerves she was feeling, hoping the rest of the Greens weren’t with him. “ I came to get you. I came to tell Rhaenyra that I will serve for her claim. “ She smiled proudly. “ You will? “

“ Yes, but most importantly, I shall ask your father for your hand. “ A surprise blossomed on the Princess’s face, lighting it up with colours of excitement. “ Oh, Aemond. “ Y/n rose a bit to kiss his lips, not being able to hold her happiness away for the words she was hearing.

She continued to kiss him until he stopped her with a tiny bit to her lip. “ Now, now, let’s not get greedy, plenty of time for such entertainment. Let me get a yes from your father first. “ Y/n still smiling, took his hand and started strolling to the castle.

By the entrance stood three guards, all displaying their houses on their armour. The blades were put in front of the two Targaryens “ You traitor, must not pass. “ One of them spoke strongly gripping his sword’s handle.

“ Aemond is about to become one of us. “ Y/n said. “ And he is my guest, so you must let him in with me. “ She bothered to say the last words a bit louder than the rest of the sentence.

They had no other option, but to do as it was said. The two headed towards the room in which Y/n was sure all her family waited. And she was right. Just as the door, Daemon Targaryen spotted the sapphire flashing of his enemy, taking out Dark Sister. “ Don’t you dare make a single step. “ With his posture every looked in the direction of the door, spotting Y/n with their enemy. The other guards that were in the room, took out their own swords. The Velaryon couple Rhaneys and Corlys spotted the girl, gasping in shock, as their grandsons angrily watched the man behind their half-sister.

“ Father, let me- “

“ Explain? What is there to explain? The traitor came to the Dragonstone, ready to drop out another eye from his skull. “

“ No, he is here to- “

“ It��s fine. “ Aemond laid a hand on Y/n which tensed up her father even more. “ I shall speak for myself. “ His gentle smile turned serious when he met the eyes of the Rogue Prince.

“ I have come in peace to the Dragonstone with two purposes. The first one being of devoting my loyalty to the true heir of the Iron Throne, Rhaenyra Targaryen. “ He cornered his eye to the Queen, who didn’t take her eye off him the moment he came to her sight.

“ How so? “ She questioned. “ I have realized how my brother Aegon and my mother aren’t my family. Daeron, Helaena, Jaehaerys, Jaehaera and Maelor are dear to me, but I don’t think they would be able to accept my decision of changing sides as quickly enough to be here. “ As he breathed a small amount more, Y/n could understand how hard it pained him to leave them and that if he could, he would take him with them somewhere where they could be happy.

“ And why do you want to be loyal all of a sudden? “ He dragged his hand down to Y/n’s waist before stepping forward, feeling as she flinched to make him go behind, fearing what could be done to him, Aemond only smiled at that reassuring her he will be alright. “ That brights me to my second purpose. “ The prince said as he took out his sword, alarming Daemon who was ready for attack, but before it came to that the strong sound of metal hitting the floor played in everyone’s ears.

Aemond started dropping his dagger and knight to the ground, leashing himself and the weapons that could harm someone and kneeling in front of Daemon. “ I came here to ask for Princess Y/n’s hand in marriage as her love made me see with my eye the family I want to be a part of. “

As the words were said out loud, everyone fell in shock, looking at either Aemond or Y/n, figuring out their relationship. Daemon looked at the man before him and then at his daughter, confusion catching him.

He left the man to kneel and walked over to Y/n, handing her his own hand and pulling her to the side. “ You were sneaking around with him, I see. “ His voice made Y/n frown. “ I know father, I wouldn’t have if you did approve of him. “

“ I promise you, he is telling the truth father, I know he is and this isn’t a trick. “ Daemon watched as she spoke observing as her eyes worriedly switched to Aemond who still kneeled in the same spot. “ How can you be sure? “

“ No sane man would go alone in the pit of dragons and drop his weapon in front of them. “

“ Y/n, no Targaryen men are sane. “

“ No, but they know what they want and they don’t let anything stop them from having what they desire the most, not even humiliation of kneeling before their enemy. “ Daemon took a good look at his daughter, thinking of how quickly she had grown up in front of his eyes with him bearly realizing it. “ Alright then. “

“ Prince Aemond of House Targaryen. “ He turned quickly at the sound of his name. “ I give you my blessing. “ At the sound of these words, the seriousness of their faces vanished, replacing it with the brightest smiles there could ever be. And once again Y/n found herself in hands of her lover, happier then ever before.

Seeing how genuinely happy they both looked, Daemon knew he made the right choice, with calm steps he made his way to Rhaenyra who wasn’t as sure about Aemond.

“ Our Y/n, is your source of loyalty? “ Aemond still holding her responded “ She is, and there is no better time to show it than now. “ He said before speaking “ I have escaped my brother’s punishment but just for a small bit, by now he must be close to the Dragonstone. “ With the information of the Greens being close by, the Targaryens hurriedly rush outside.

Daemon approached the couple “ Y/n, you know what you must do. Aemond, you stick by me. “They both nodded to him. All of them called their dragons and jumping off their backs. Vhagar and Y/n’s dragon patiently stood waiting for their riders.

Before they could separate Y/n grabbed Aemond’s arm. “ Let’s get out of this alive. “ Aemond only smiled at that reassuring her he will be alright. “ We shall, and live many years to come. “ Kissing her forehead dearly, they both hopped on their dragons, flying in opposite directions, not knowing will their paths cross again.

Following the plan her family made prior to the war that was to take place, Y/n was dropping by the Driftmark where dragonless Alyn of Hull was waiting for her with the supply of water and food. Flying very high, hiding with the help of the clouds they moved to the sky, hoping to arrive at King’s Landing as soon as possible, but not soon enough to meet the King.

With a full day passing by, their fears for their loved ones grow, hoping they would see them alive again. Soon they arrive at King’s Landing, with the hidden soldiers of House Arryn already close by they circled around the Red Keep making sure it was safe for them to enter. Landing on their feet, with the honourable army of men, they approached the gate and soon enough, seizing the castle.

“ I Y/n Targaryen, have come to take the Iron Throne in favour of my cousin, Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen. “ With the taken power and stable control, Y/n imprisoned the Dowager Queen and put Queen Helaena and her children in the care of the guards making sure they would not escape.

As they waited for the rest of their family, the iron chair sat cold and Y/n waited on a balcony which pointed in the direction of Dragonstone hoping to see her family soon. In such state, she waited 2 and a half days, not seeing no marks on the sky to look like a dragon, that was until the two red dots were getting closer to the King’s Landing. Recognizing them as Caraxes and Meleys, she ran thought the halls, hoping to get out of the castle quickly.

By the time she made her way out of the castle, she had seen her brothers’ dragons flapping their winds onto the grass. She found herself in her father’s embrace, before looking up at the sky and seeing Vhagar dropping down.

She happily cried out for Aemond and dived into his arms, feeling safer than ever before. “ It’s alright love we are all here. “ He comforted her, as the warmth of her tears reached his skin.

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As said Prince Aemond married his one and true love Y/n. Their wedding was the first to happen and was followed by the wedding of Baela and Jacaerys and a year later by Alyn and Rhaena’s. Alyn’s brother sadly didn’t survive, dying just before his killer Aegon II. The rest of the Greens were spared, except from Otto Hightower who vanished without a trace.

Queen Rhaenyra let Aemond and Y/n live in King’s Landing with Helaena, and her twins, Maelor and Daeron who all bend their knee to the new Queen.

And as for the family Aemond desire to have with Y/n...

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“ Dear Lord, don’t jump that much you will get too tired to play anymore. “ Y/n warned her oldest son, a boy of only three. The little one soon became bored of jumping and sat down next to his older sister by three years and pulled at her red dress as she pulled back.

“ No, no. We don’t pull girls’ skirts. “ His mother separated the siblings, giving her youngest daughter to her elder 10-year-old sister and keeping her son in her arms. “ Not unless he is interested to see what’s underneath. “ Y/n’s husband chuckled, holding their youngest son who is just waiting to celebrate his first name day.

“ Don’t teach him how to do bad things. “ She scolded the man, trying to not crack at his smirk. “ Those are not bad things. Just want to teach him, how I found a beauty like you. “ With his one free arm, he gently grabbed her neck and brought their faces closer. They kisses sweetly until, breaking apart when they heard their son’s muffled words. “ I want a kiss, mama. “ The little boy said frowning. His parents laughed. “ Well then everyone is getting a kiss. “ Calling after their daughter, Aemond and Y/n gave their children kisses until it tickled them, enjoying in the beauty their union created.

#aemond #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x reader #prince aemond #aemond targaryen imagine #asoiaf #asoiaf fic #asoiaf imagine #house targaryen #hotd fic #hotd #house of the dragon

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