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ladythornofrivia · 8 days

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Lady with Teal Eyes || Aemond x Aunt!Hightower Reader (Part Two)

word count:

author’s note: writing more chapters of a sad dragon family series. I’ll be on a Norwegian cruise line for Italy and Greece for 2 weeks. I’m gonna be seasick, I already know it. So I’ll be writing this series before I leave. Please enjoy and have a good day.

warnings: incest, cockwarming, teasing, sucking, p in v, rough play, flirting, wholesome moment, jealous aemond, possessive, roughness, mild manhandling, mild degradation, unprotected vaginal sex, oral sex, second hand embarrassment, dark content, mentions of su*cide, Aemond being too touchy with his aunt, degradation, humiliation.

summary: Aemond meets his aunt for the first time, and there’s more than meets the eye. (there will be three parts).

The preparations for the celebration of King Viserys has reached closer whilst you accompanied Alicent into the corridor, corridor after corridor of a long tour within the Red Keep. Servants bowed as you all passed. Cold bows and cold eyes lingered, despite their bare minimums of smiling graciously at your direction, as Alicent presented the halls with lavish decor. However, mostly it was green and gold. But others blended it with black and red.

As always, you’re marveled by the exquisite lace and embroidered patterns and a clear structure of its final design of artwork is invigorating. The stitching is what you’re most impressed of.

As all Targaryens and Hightowers strolling, Alicent parted ways with her children, unbeknownst to you, the one-eyed prince had his hands behind his back, violet shade of eye looming over your new gown designed by the seamstress, all soft-shaded periwinkle, strapped with gold embroidery and green and red, streaks of iridescent shun upon sunlight, your manes healthy and glowing, maintained through and through.

You knew he was watching. With his precious one violet eye gleaming at the back of your head, your body shivered in an alien sensation. As for Aemond, a dragon’s hunger is anything but stable or sane. A dragon’s hunger is like a breath of wild fire casted to the torch of the wondrous nature and life itself. The fire eats and leaves the bones of ash, dwindling in midair.

Aegon I altered the history and thus, House Targaryen must stand with unity and strength and blood.

Still parted aways after an idle chat, for Alicent to task with decorations, as her children were long gone, back into your large chambers, you were unpacking your materials for the completion on a quilt, a quilt with colorful dragons and mermaids and ships, various shades of sews and needles unpacked, as the back of your neck tingled with goosebumps as you felt a hot breath stroking.

Before you turned around, large and slender hands travelled over your clothed waist, nearly close to your chest above. A writhe of hot tingle rushing in your coils and chest. A quiet breath strained, lax down to a low hiss, a hiss nearly tickling your skin. No servants were around, no Alicent or Gwayne.

Aemond, a one-eyed prince has lurked and captured you. A princess sent by a Maiden herself. The fiery dragon must seize the princess.

You thought he has gone back to training yard with Ser Criston, as Alicent mentioned once at the entryway within a prolonged conversation.

“Aemond—”

His face inched close to yours, his supple and pretty lips touched your cheeks, trailed down to your jawline, whilst his left hand grasp your face to stay still. The pool between your legs gradually strengthened its warmth and slick, easily for the prince to prance and insert into your tight hole. Under the layers of silk dress, Aemond bunched the layered fabrics to your waist.

You never had a noble taken an interest in you. The only that interests them is the brightness of your teal eyes.

A mesmerizing glow of your hues has yanked his curiosities. His mother never mentioned him about you—not even once in a dubious talk.

Better late than never.

With his hand, fingers strapped, and his trimmed nails clutched the fabric of your corset, the laces loosener it in smooth motion, loosening around your frame, breasts ached as his hand—his cold hand—brushed and pinched your nipple while his other hand found his way your thigh, grasped as Aemond’s tongue flicked and his lips pressed a chaste kiss to your clit.

A moan escaped, your mouth shielded, you face drowned in flush, as Aemond’s heart leapt in satisfaction. Humming, he stood up and inserted his fingers into your cunt, thrusting the fingers in with doubled speed as your moans grew louder, but restrained the pleasure into your chest, holding it. The walls in the Red Keep are dire; servants and nobles and guards walked passed and patrolled through wall and doors. Even the highest nobles strolled by.

“Fuck,” is all he said, as if it was a prayer. “Your cunt might be as Holy as the Maiden herself.”

His lips sucked your swollen tit.

“My prince,” you cried softly. “Please. The guards, my brother and sister will see us.”

“I do not care of their pious thoughts.”

“I’m your aunt, my pri—”

“Don’t fight it, my sweet,” he said, giving a sensual flick on his warm tongue to your swollen flesh, “I might give you a reason to have bruise on you, ones that they’ll never find on your skin.” His hands grasped your waist, trailing with soft strokes. “You’re humiliated. Maybe there’s more than meets the eye.”

Based on his words, you never thought you found it attractive, considering the soft spoken voice, hoarse with arousal.

“Don’t fight it. If you fight against this, this subtle encounter between us, you’ll never forgive yourself,” he whispered, his wet lips brushed yours. “If you have been, you would shoved me away. Would you like that, princess? Shoving me away?”

His voice ragged dampened your cunt and clit twitched at his sound.

“Seems you enjoy it. You’re a good princess. But alas,” he pulled himself afar, the warmth on your body began to turn a chill.

“I shall see you at the feast. Enjoy your stay.” His neck went for a stiff bow, but his eye glued with plea for your consideration of his statement, whether you accept his offer or not, and departed your apartment—a once organized structure is now filled with clutter and oozing sex and the arousal groans you shared has imprinted in your head, you find yourself still with embarrassment.

In a way, a blessing in disguise when no one, not even Gwayne, saw or heard your affairs with a young dragon prince.

You have seen the arrival of Rhaenyra and Daemon and the children, you had a short introduction to all Black faction.

The dinner celebration for Viserys’s nameday celebration has been all but cumbersome. You felt a subtle hostility, but to due your presence, it has lessened but somewhat guarding up—all due to pettiness.

As you, making a progression with your father, it was all but cold distance even you and Otto were near. Not once he looked at you with adoration like he shared his adoration with Princess Helaena, showing her teal beetle. The Green children are all strained; Aegon had his fair share of capable stupidity to throw down a nasty comment of his cousins and nephews.

Daeron was disappointed with Aegon’s perversions, but Daeron veered at you with a kind smile and made a polite conversation with you. Once again, Otto did not acknowledged of your accomplishments. You felt sick in the stomach, and it’s not your bright gold and yellow dress you have finished making. Tears behind your eyes was arising, and your throat budged with hot and parched sting.

Aemond clenched his fist, for his anger was directed at his grandsire for not noticing you. That damnable old fool—if only Otto sees how your talents. When Viserys disregarded Aemond, even his siblings, he wanted nothing more than to see him dead. But alas, with your existence, it’s almost as if Viserys’s existence just naturally died out.

You pardoned yourself, and Alicent thereby dismissed you, you bowed and left to your chambers, spent the rest of the night weeping, thinking what have you done wrong.

As you exited, the tensed feeling withdrew, and Otto was happy again. And so, without a doubt, Aemond gave a good jab on Otto, which caused a disastrous supper for everyone. The music stopped. As for Aegon and Daemon, they found it amusing while Alicent ordered the guards to escort Aemond way back to his chambers.

For Aegon, this was a win for him. He’s not in trouble for once.

~~~

In dreams, you have never seen your mother, what she appears like or what she sounds like or how her personality was. The only thing that is closest to being a mother to you is the wetnurse or the servants or the Septa who provided you with assistance on your daily appearances and wisdom. Whenever a servant brushes your hair, you often think of what it feels like to have a mother brushing your manes with care and doting manner, a soft voice to soothe your aching heart, where doubts and fears would go away.

In times of sleep, you often thinking of ending your life, just to see your biological mother on the other side. Or perhaps more than just seeing your mother. There are times where you hated your life, and you want nothing more but to end it.

People have often told stories of your mother, though it felt it was a grave mistake. Some say she fled away to Free Cities, some said she ended her life from the highest tower of Oldtown and fell down to the sea. There are rumors where Otto took you because you’re adopted, or perhaps he had a secret, illicit affairs.

The cold feeling rushed in you as your eyes pricked with tears. With somebody telling you stories of your late mother, it brought no peace. Only the enigma of your shadowed doubts and an endurance of chaotic insanity, to question whether your life is real, if you’re real in this world with purpose.

The servants have been kind to you more than the nobles, the more everyone pointed out your flaws and the insignificance of your existence, you lead to believe that you’ll never be loved.

And cried once more. Each night, your tears flooded in pillows and blanket, as you embraced the closest object, pretended that it’s your late mother. An endless of an anguish thought has been a hazard.

Only the echoes of the walls could hear you and the pillows has stained, under your hug squeezed the material as hard, wishing for the pain to go away.

In his awake, he’s a perfect prince, but in his dreams, he’s a beast.

A beast kept within a shell of a noble man.

He has dreamt of your teal eyes basking in his dark dreamland, your voice, how it was yearning so much more. A dark dreamland filled with scornful memories of his nephews and Aegon, and the pink dread. He had kill all of them in his dreams, even the fat pig.

With a scolding from his mother, he couldn’t care less. He wanted your presence to be acknowledged by your father, but how can Otto be so cynically dimwitted and more offensively calculating against you?

When the servants spoke over how you’re not related to Alicent, chances are why Otto was pretending that your presence is nothing more than a useless and meaningless substance of meaning to exist.

Others said that they haven’t seen you gone out from your apartments—and that was recent.

Aemond visited you, presented you with a gift, but the word from you not leaving the apartments has concerned. Thus his mind came up an idea.

You have several servants entering the room with stack of your favorite meals and drink—including lemon cakes and Dornish wine.

One knows someone’s best interest. Whoever did it, your heart is elated. As soon as Aemond came in, you hadn’t known whether he knew something that you don’t. Somehow, his intimidating presence softens your heart, prickled in relief.

For some reason, when Alicent paid you a visit, although shortened, she was concerned of your health, you hadn’t formed a proper conversation; Alicent hasted when the Council has called for her summon, but gave her regards.

Aemond accompanied you for a while in your apartments, and chat whatever discussion came up. Each minute and each hour, the two of you became close, became so close that you or him hadn’t open your hearts, despite what he did to you days ago. With your cunt coiled at his face, his voice and neck, his waist, you find yourself crossing your legs, aroused and squirming beside him. You wondered and imagined of Aemond’s tongue guiding and gliding your soaked cunt. At this moment, you wanted tackle him and suffocate him with your legs wrapped around him, taking in of your nectar.

“I’m glad you are doing well, princess,” Aemond said to you. “For I have been concerned of your well-being. A delicate flower such as you does not deserve the cruelty of my grandsire or anyone in the matter of your visit.”

“He’s always been difficult,” you explained. “No matter how much I’ve improved with my skill, he’ll never sees as his or my sister’s equal.”

“In ways my mother and grandsire are more intolerable. Though I respect my mother, I find myself with bore with my grandsire has to say. If anything, I’m glad your presence has casted a light into the dread.”

In Aemond’s case, however, found you as exquisite as gentle as the blooming flower. His one took a longer glimpse at you and notice the difference—how your eyes glinted in glee while your cheeks adorned with youthful flush and enamored smile. Oh so pure and harmless. He hasn’t seen his mother and his siblings. As for Otto, he hasn’t spoke to him since supper at Viserys’s nameday after sending a jab across the face—out of character for a self-assured prince.

Oh, to ruin you.

“Thank you for the meal, Prince Aemond. You don’t know how much I’m relieved to say this,” you said as you finished the embroidery on your unfinished dress you sewn.

Aemond found your gowns just as otherworldly as you.

Consequences won’t matter; Viserys nor anyone else in the room care for his presence. Perhaps it is a blessing, perhaps it is for the best for you to be settled here in King’s Landing, as long you’re in content, nothing else matters, but if harm does come, he shall smite the immoral act. Aemond is no perfect, but with you, he’d be at his best behavior.

“Then I shall relieve you,” he proclaimed.

You find yourself halted at his declaration and glimpsed at his resolved expression.

Something has stirred in your heart that you wanted more than the civil interactions, wanted more than having someone to converse with you.

Tossing and turning onto your bed was all but a doozy. Dizzy from pivoting and switching positions, you had enough. Dreams had come again. This time it’s Aemond calling out to you, feasting on your wet folds and pumping his lithe and graceful rugged fingers in you. Ever since the day before Viserys’s nameday, with Aemond’s thirst, your legs ached.

For a Hightower, it’s a sin to self-pleasure one’s body—a selfish immoral act.

Somehow you found it odd. If a man does self-pleasure, no court would turn the eye, but a woman does self-pleasure with hasting fingers and naughtiness is considered dire.

Faith of the Seven had their own laws, but you knew that men and women had their fair share of illest secrets. Lucky for you, Alicent and everyone in the Red Keep does not know your impure thoughts. The room became hot, then cold, then all at once, the breath in your lips became ragged and desperate. You wanted someone to hold you, treasure you, seduce with sweet nothings and sweet promises with adore.

For your years of not having a partner, you have begun to fear of not having pleasure. In the heating moment, you thought of what’s like losing your maidenhood to someone with a big cock.

You wanted a cock.

His cock.

Oh, a dragon prince. If Aemond hears your thoughts, you’d run away and never to return Westeros and give yourself a new name and fashion.

Damn the consequences and the punishments from the Lord Hand and the Queen themselves! Damn the Faith of the Seven and their laws!

With your fingers circling your clit, no climax arrived. Thus, you casted your blankets aside with a huff, setting out to see him.

Trudging through the dark halls, the guards were nowhere to be found, assuming the guards went elsewhere. As you made your way to the doors, you approached and entered the chambers where you have found Aemond on his bedside.

Your breath held back, taking in at the sight of Aemond. With his porcelain skin and his long silver-blond hair, it gleamed under moonlight, appearing paler compared to daylight. His eye had an old scar, and his eyepatch was placed elsewhere.

Watching his body rising and falling within breath, you approached him and kissed his back, planted your light kisses, feeling the smooth surface of his skin.

Aemond awoke and turned, found you kissing his back.

“My lady,” he whispered, one eye widened, as you stare at his sapphire. It was beautiful like him.

You placed your finger on his lips.

“Have you come to made a decision?” he asked.

Your lashes fluttered under his gaze. “What do you think, my prince?”

Then your lips collided with his. Aemond was taken aback of your sudden act. Eventually, his consciousness fell; with his lips shared an illicit chaste kiss, his hands uncloaked you, and roamed on your womanly body, caressing you, until you began to undo his trousers, his cock hardened.

“This won’t take long,” you promised, slowly pinning him down onto the pillows, unstrapped yourself naked and sat in between his legs. You didn’t expect for his cock to harden.

Your eyes darted to his, awaiting. And thus, you yanked his trousers downward, unveiling his hardened cock. You eyes widened at the sheer size. Your maidenhood hasn’t been taken yet. Your future prospects of marriage hasn’t arrived, but it feels as the more you wait, the more your chances of marriage dimmed. With your body descended, the maidenhood had met his engorged tip.

Aemond lay still, watching you. His sapphire eye gleamed at its victory.

Your voice moaned aloud; your maidenhood slammed down, his engorged cock tightened on your damped walls. Gradually, the pace on your hips sped. You have never felt anything as good. Prayers in the sept are insatiably helpful compare to the prince’s cock.

You have never felt so alive.

Aemond knew you’re a virgin; your hips bounced all thanks to the guidance of his hands.

He pleasured a woman in the brothel in the Street of Silk at the age of three-and-ten. As a young boy, he regretted making a decision by making himself a fool to go along with Aegon and his shenanigans. He was expecting Viserys to guide him gently into the world, but the Driftmark incident has left Aemond concluded that Viserys, his father, did not spare a single kindness or thought and only spared it Rhaenyra and her sons.

All hope was lost until he saw you—a radiant maiden.

You reached your high, as Aemond clutched your hips, spurring down the hot semen bursting the inner walls—a divine conclusion.

Gasping for air, your legs stood achingly, leaving white traces of his semen dripping down on his balls and thighs. When Aemond tried to assisted you, but instead his face met your open legs and slammed your went against his chiseled face and nose.

Fuck my maidenhood, you thought, desperate, as your hips gyrated, feeling his warm tongue and the sharp line of his nose encouraged your arousing sense to further the climax, as your right hand found its way at the back of Aemond’s hair.

Aemond find himself humming against the warmth of your cunt, mingling with his semen. It was a divination, nothing like the brothel. If only his virginity had taken by you instead of a woman who hasn’t live up to her beauty and standards of gentile and grace. Streets of Flea Bottom aren’t to be trusted. His lips kissed your inner thighs, gliding his tongue, and pumped it in between your walls.

Groaning, almost feral-like, your hips paced, your tits bouncing as your walls grew hot again.

“Relieve me,” you said to the prince, hoarse. A soft squeak caught into his ears.

I shall relieve you, my sweet. Just as I promised, he thought.

Your hips gyrated harder, until the spurring had come close; hot liquid squirted on his face as Aemond’s tongue lapped on your cunt faster than last. Your head threw back with his languid strokes on his warm tongue.

Gods it was a miracle.

He has taken your maidenhead.

“Good boy,” you cooed, your breath rasped, your hand still placed on the back of his long silver-blond hair, gyrating your tired hips against his face.

Both you and Aemond found yourselves in elation.

“Good boy.”

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myouicieloz · 6 months

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Heads will roll

Kim Minjeong x aespa 5thmember!reader

Synopsis: Your girlfriend promised you it was ok for you to match with your best friend, Yuna, for the upcoming Halloween party. However, with how she’s behaving all night, you simply had to drag her to and empty room and punish her.

Warnings: smut. sub!minjeong x dom!reader

Word count: 4.4k lol sorry

Notes: HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!! I’ve tried my best but the verbs might still be all wrong… I hope u enjoy, tho!! ^^ i rlly like halloween kisses mwuah

You spent the whole evening apart from your best friends and bandmates, shooting your solo pictures for the group’s latest comeback. Since you were the last one to do so, you asked them to get back to the dorm and get ready for Ryujin’s party without you. You’d see each other soon enough, anyway, so it wasn’t that big of a deal.

They sent you countless pictures of them getting ready, and your heart ached to be making funny group memories with them, instead of taking a thousand pictures in a cold studio. It was for work, though, so you’d just have to deal with it.

After what it seemed like ages, your photoshoot was finally over, and you quickly made your way to the dorm to shower and get ready. It sucked to do your makeup by yourself, since Giselle always did it for you, and to not curl Ningning’s hair just as she liked it, but it was either that or you’d all be terribly late for the party, and no one would have that.

Ryujin’s Halloween party was one of the most expected events of the year, so, naturally, no one would want to be late. The girl knew how to host a party— it always had sickening decor, lots of creative and delicious drinks and, most important, secrecy. None of what you did ever got leaked, to ensure the guests always had a good time.

Which you always, always did.

“Woah!” You whistled as you entered Ryujin’s living room, getting the attention of your bandmates. They smiled at you, waving and calling you over.

The four girls were impeccable, each one looking just as gorgeous as ever: Giselle was dressed as a sexy jaguar, wearing a tight jumper with little feline ears; Ningning opted to go as a corpse bride, although her bloodied, ripped wedding dress barely reached her knees; Karina, as a pirate, hat carefully placed in her hands; and at last, your sweet girlfriend, looking lavish as Alice in Wonderland.

You smiled at the sight of her beautiful face, promptly reaching out to hug her, but Winter was having none of it. She didn’t push you, naturally, but her face was all flustered, and she looked livid, frowning as she checked you out.

“Is that really why you didn’t match with me?” Winter asked, offended. She was judging your Lara Croft costume with hard eyes, even though they lingered on the leather belt you wore for a tad too long. There were fake guns attached to them, too, and your hair was braided into two elaborate pieces all by yourself, your skillfulness making the hairstyle neat and composed, not a single strand out of place.

“We’ve had this conversation before.” you reminded her, ever so patient— being used were used to her defensiveness. Besides, you knew you looked good; a little harsh look from your girlfriend wasn’t going to smash out your confidence, “I had already promised Yuna I’d match with her. She arranged our costumes and everything months ago, remember?”

Winter rolled her eyes, murmuring something too low for you to hear, but visibly still annoyed, regardless of your explanation.

You did warn your girlfriend that you’d be matching with your best friend for Halloween, just like you always did ever since you could remember. However, Winter hoped you’d notice her subtle signs and realize she wanted you to match with her, as a couple, instead. After all, it was your first Halloween together, and Winter wanted it to be special.

“You look beautiful, by the way.”

“Yeah, whatever.” She brushed past you, scoffing. You could tell she was very much pissed by the way she stomped through your friends, mixing herself a drink with too much alcohol in it, as she completely turned her back to you.

It was quite unusual for her to drink, but you’ve gotten on her nerves enough to make Winter want to relieve some stress. It bothered her to have you choosing Yuna-subaenim over herself, your girlfriend, no matter how hard she tried to shake the venomous feeling off.

Naturally, Winter knows it’s silly to feel this insecure and jealous over a stupid costume, specially since you and Yuna have been friends since your rookie days— and you’ve only been dating for a couple of months.

Nonetheless, Winter can’t help but to be sulky besides Karina, downing her cup in a few, long gulps. She doesn’t even dislike Yuna, even though she wasn’t exactly friends with the girl, either. Winter found her kind and lovable enough, with her long hair and composed, yet bubbly remarks.

It simply unsettled your girlfriend, to see you matching with Yuna when she was so excited about your first Halloween together. You were Winter’s first partner, and the thought of wearing matching outfits had her all month wondering what to pick. There were just so many cool options, and she was so excited… Which was why having you mention Yuna had already bought you identical costumes— just like she did every year, as long as Winter could remember, — was like a bucket of cold water being thrown in her head.

Of course, had your girlfriend told you wearing couple outfits to the party was that important to her, you would’ve simply brushed Yuna off, claiming you’d comply with your girlfriend’s wishes this year. However, she said nothing, so you naturally didn’t think much of it, brushing it off.

However, Winter felt a bitter taste in her mouth as she stared at you and Yuna, looking pretty much like twins if it weren’t for you towering over the girl, hair much longer and darker. It was as though she were fighting her first battle, a silent, passive one with your best friend, and she had just lost.

Winter really wasn’t going to hide her pout for the rest of the night. She’d allow herself that, at least.

Your girlfriend behaves like nothing but a fucking brat the whole afternoon.

She makes sure to be extra touchy with people— much unlike her nature, laughing hard and smiling at whatever it is that Jaehyun was saying. The boy was as boring as they came, and she’d stopped listening to his ramble minutes ago. Now, her eyes were trained on you, with every action calculated to bring you to the edge. From the way her slick fingers traced his skin, to her leaning to listen better, since the music is so loud, isn’t it?

You let her be, allowing Winter to celebrate her little tantrums alongside her members. Despite her obvious confrontation with you, she genuinely seems to be enjoying herself: laughing, drinking and joking with the girls and other close friends on the dance floor. So you let her have her little victory, observing from afar as you enjoy your night just the same; Even though your eyes narrow once you feel her subtly— almost unnoticeably, ducking from your touch, when you join the girls after hanging out with your other friends for a while.

In fact, Winter’s cold shoulder gave you plenty of time to think about the ways you’d punish her for her foolish behavior. You licked your lips at the thought of having little Alice in Wonderland all spread open just for you, crying as you deny her orgasms over and over until her pretty, abused cunt is all red and sore, drenching and clenching over the slightest brush of your fingers. It’d be such a heavenly sight: the girl on all fours, screaming and pleading for you to touch her anywhere, to do anything to her or else she’d explode.

However, you remain composed, your face giving none of your impurities away as you twist the ice in your whiskey and patiently listen to whatever funny story is being told by Chaeryeoung in the corner you all stand. You could feel the avalanche of thoughts and ideas going over and over through your mind, aching to make your girlfriend wither and destroy her petite body, as you made sure to let her know who possessed her in every way.

Meanwhile, Winter was walking through a dangerous path, she knew it as much. The feeling of your eyes poking wholes on her back was dense enough to send electric shocks through her entire body, and she was well aware of you watching her every move. She smiled to herself, glad to have your full attention despite feeling like such a loser, earlier. The thought of being punished for all of her bratty actions, too, aroused her perhaps a bit too much to keep her from being good. So she closed her eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, and smiled again, humming to herself as she knew her night was barely getting started.

“Hey, if you’d like we could, ahn, keep our conversation somewhere quieter…” Winter heard Jaehyun say, lips dangerously close to her ear. She was about to brush him off when he was abruptly shoved backwards, and soon enough she felt a strong grip on her waist.

She couldn’t contain a smile, hearing your harsh voice echoing from above her tiny frame.

“I suggest you keep your _hands_ to yourself, subaenim, if you want them intact.” You growled, turning your girlfriend to you as you pushed her upstairs, opening doors until you found an empty room. You shoved Winter on the bed without delicacy, smiling slightly to see her bounce a little on the mattress, in response to your touch. She was so petite—even now, staring at you behind her lashes.

“Fucking whore.” You cursed, taking your time unbuckling your numerous belts as she stared at you, licking her lips at the sight of your hands putting on work. She needed them on herself, immediately. “Throwing yourself at that fucker like a cheap slut. I guess that is just what you are, right?” You said, gripping her face. “A cheap fucking slut.”

Winter’s pupils were as blown out as yours, and her heart was beating so loud she was sure it echoed loudly through the bedroom. It was so hot for her to have you like this: mad out of your mind, handling her like a doll. It was a deep contrast from your caring, worried nature, one that she loved to experience from time to time. And the best part was that she got to have this feral side of you all to herself. You were hers, and hers alone.

No stupid fucking costume would change that.

She nodded as best as she could, since your touch was strong in order to keep her still.

“Say it.”

“I’m just a cheap slut.” Her reply came immediately, as Winter’s eyes remained locked on your face.

You kissed her deeply in response, exploring all the possible places of her mouth. Your hands went down her neck, blocking her airways just enough to make your girlfriend sigh, lightheaded.

“Perfect, baby.” You praised, sucking on her pulse point. “And who owns you?”

Winter’s hands found their way to yours, even though her touch wasn’t meant to make you stop.

She simply had to feel you, to have your skin on hers. It was a necessity to taste you and to have you taste her, too. It was taking you too long to touch her, already: she was feeling like her whole body was going to explode.

“You, unnie.” She breathed.

You stopped your work on her neck, now sucking at her earlobe as you whispered. “Just that? I’m starting to think you don’t want me to do anything to you at all; you just wanted to fuck that stupid ass guy to piss me off.”

She whined as you distanced yourself, opening her legs so you could place yourself between them. She looked like a painting, with her shoulder-length hair all disheveled and flustered face, trying to gather her breath and her thoughts. You allowed her to do so, squeezing and brushing your hands up and down her thighs while waiting for her next move.

As if Winter could ever concentrate with you touching her like that.

Pulling you by your pants—she couldn’t help but to look for your belt, biting her cheek to keep a smile from adorning her face as she found it in your hands, already—she pleaded. “Please, mommy,” She opened her legs even more, with her hands on your neck to kiss you again, “I’ve been so bad tonight… please, please punish me.”

You smiled, thinking about all the ways you’d ruin her through the night. She was so beautiful, so eager to surrender herself to you completely. It warmed your heart with both desire and lust, to know you had her to yourself.

“You’ll be well punished, Minjeongie. Don’t worry,” You promised, leaving wet kisses against her shoulders. “I’ll ruin you, so you’re reminded to not even look at anyone else, my love. You’re fucking mine.”

As you shared another wet, lustful kiss, Minjeong couldn’t help but to feel like the luckiest girl in the world.

You interlock her wrists with one of your belts, wiggling it to make sure it wasn’t too tight on the girl’s skin; just enough to make it a slightly ache. “Do you know your words?”

“Yes.”

“And what will you do if you want me to stop?”

“I’ll use them.” She assured you, nodding.

“Very well, then,” You took her in, looking so pretty messed up like that. You’d have to leave her like that more. “On your fours.”

Winter got half-up, cocking her head to the sides as she sent you a confused look. You were both still all dressed up. Had you forgotten about that detail, perhaps?

“Dress stays on,” You mumbled, groping her body through the fabric. “You look too pretty in that outfit. It nearly made me fuck you in the middle of the room, for everyone to see, when I first saw you.”

She giggled, delighted to have your praises. Her face was met with a pout soon after, though, as she sighed, defiantly. “If only you’d matched with me, instead of that bi—”

Winter lets out a loud grasp once you turn her around, adjusting her body roughly on your thighs.

“Shut the fuck up.” You told her. “Toys don’t talk. Specially ones that behaved so poorly the whole night.” Pushing her tiny dress up, you gave her ass a good squeeze. “Now, count. 10 for each cheek, since I’m feeling patient, for now.”

Winter couldn’t suppress the shiver that went through her body as she heard your words. She bit her lips, not wanting to let you see how much your tone aroused her; so drenched already, and you’ve only made out for a few minutes.

“O-one,” She took a deep breath as you went on, kissing her back and her ass until you’d finished, your hands’ impressions well painted on her milky skin. “T-two…”

You were surprised she didn’t lose count, not even once, even though her face was already glistening with a few tears, and she was shaking her head vigorously. “T-ten!”

You let out a proud smirk once you got her spankings over with, helping her up. “You did good, love.” You assured your girlfriend, kissing her gently to make sure she wasn’t overwhelmed. You let Winter take some time to breathe, nodding as she got her body closer to yours as much as she could, since her hands were still locked up.

Winter was always needy and touchy. You laugh at her exasperate touches, kissing her as you guide her body to lay on the bed completely. You tear down panties with hunger, soon taking out her white stockings, too, until you manage to push up the skirt of her dress and leave her cunt bare, inviting you over.

“You look so pretty, love. All dolled up and ready for me. So fucking hot tonight, baby.”

All she could do was nod, lost in pleasure as you kiss along her thighs. She instantly opens them more, hoping you’d mark them —just as you both liked it. You took your time pinching, sucking and bruising her perfect skin, enjoying the sound of the pornographic moans that left her mouth. You were drenched yourself, too, at the sight of your pretty girlfriend’s face as she lets out incoherent cries and whines.

Your fingers brush her cunt, never more than a light tease over her heated body as you add, “Wearing this little dress like the whore you are. Do you even have any idea of how delicious you look right now? Of how many people ogled you all night, desperate to touch you?” You giggled to yourself at the sound of her frustrated huffs, tracing your fingers to her slit before giving her pussy a long lick, “They can’t, though. You’re all mine. Mine to mark, mine to toy with. My doll.”

She couldn’t even answer as you dive in, sucking her pretty cunt vigorously as Winter wriggles and tries her best to get a hold of your hair, which makes you nibble your teeth though her sex, provoking her.

“M-more, more, mommy. Please! Oh shit—“ She was a mess, feeling even more as if she were going to erupt. Your hands kept touching her everywhere, with your nails leaving long, red lines from her forearms to the ends of her thighs.

As you kept on with an even faster rhythm, you could feel her inner walls clenching and her eyes starting to close in pleasure. So, naturally, you subsided your movements, allowing Winter’s cunt no more than a few kitten licks. She opened her eyes immediately, looking at you so adorably confused and frustrated.

“Do you really think you deserve to cum, my sweet?” Your fingertips entered her hole just enough so you could gather some of her wetness and taste it yourself, giving her sex a light slap. It made her joint, and you smiled at how sensitive she was, all bruised and marked. “With how much of an ungrateful slut you’ve been all night, hiding from my touches and presenting yourself to others…”

Still, she shook her head vigorously, “I’ll make it up to you, mommy, I promise.” Winter pleaded, with her best, sweetest voice. “Let me cum, please! Even though I don’t deserve it.”

Her obvious attempts to get herself off made you scoff, although you positioned yourself between Winter’s small body once again. She was your little doll, after all, so pretty dressed up as Alice in Wonderland.

And you have all the time in the world to edge her until she’s a withering mess, at the dorms, anyway.

Positioning your index and middle finger on her entrance, you brushed her hair off her face. “Work for it then, doll. If you want to get off so bad, do it.”

Winter’s eyes widened at your suggestion, and she let her shoulders down at the thought of having to do all the work. She’d never done such a thing, specially since you were always so eager to be the cause of her moans as she fell into pieces. As she opened her mouth to whine again, though, a simple look from you shut her out: the girl immediatly knew it was either that or nothing. Logically, your girlfriend bit her lip, pressing herself against your fingers as she felt the feeling of them in her tight cunt. She let out a loud moan, fucking herself on your fingers until the knot on her stomach soon presented itself back.

“Stop staring at me like that.” She said, looking the other way to not acknowledge you observing her, since she couldn’t push you herself. You curled your fingers inside of her, giggling at her little screams and surprised huffs.

“But you look so pretty, specially like this. Only for me.” You were making your best to follow through your words, even though Winter’s sounds and movements were making you crazy. You simply needed to grab her pretty little waist and take her until she was really screaming, crying loudly for you to stop.

However, you had to be patient, or else your girlfriend wouldn’t be taught her lesson. One she so desperately needed, so she would communicate to you better.

“Only for you, always.” She promised, her breathing erratic as she twitched under you. “Mommy, I’m gonna—please, please, let me cum.”

“Do it, love. You can cum, now.” You smiled, kissing Winter’s thighs as you bit them gently.

That did it for her; with a loud cry, she came all over your hand, trying to get your fingers off her pussy once she got too sensitive. You retrieved your fingers, sucking them clean as Winter gestured for you to set her hands free, which you promptly did. She immediately went to your lap, wrapping her fingers around your neck as she marked your skin, just as you had done to her, earlier.

“Thank you mommy.” She murmured, still light-headed and needy from her orgasm. You loved how dependent she got afterward, always requiring many cuddles and kisses after you fucked. You loved your girlfriend deeply, and she’d always be the number one in your life. “I wore the dress just for you, you know? I saw your look when we passed by the costume shop.”

You hummed, throwing your head slightly to allow Winter to suck on your neck as she liked to, “You’re such a little evil being, Minjeong.” She giggled, trailing kisses through your face until she captured your mouth, pulling you in for a long, slow kiss.

“I’m only yours.” She moved her bangs out of her face. “Are you only mine, too?”

“Of course, baby.” You frowned, squeezing her tiny waist to assure her of so. “I belong to you, just as you belong to me.”

“Good.” She whispered, feeling relieved to have that envious feeling finally off her shoulders. She didn’t master the courage to look at you, as she added. “I just wish we had matched, tonight.”

You held her even closer, kissing both of her cheeks repeatedly. “We will, next year. Ok?” You winked, managing to get a smile from her at the subtle promise. “You have to tell me when something’s bothering you, baby. I thought you were cool with me matching with Yuna and all.”

“I thought I was cool with it, too.” She shrugged, kicking her feet. “But I guess I wasn’t.”

You kissed her once again, hoping to have her know how much you loved her.

“It’s all good now, though. Come on, the party’s still going. Let’s head back?”

Winter’s head cocked to the side at your words, and soon her hands were toying with the hem of your crop top. She smirked, trying to look as innocent as she could at the thought of keeping you all to herself.

“Not yet… still want to get more of what’s mine, then.” You smiled back at the auburn haired girl, placing your arms up to allow her to get rid of the piece. “Besides, you’ve made me do all the work just now… I think I deserve a compensation.”

You scoffed, but pushed Winter’s body back on the bed just the same. You were her girlfriend, after all. You’d always spoil her rotten and indulge to her wishes.

“Bratty ass.”

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mybeautifuldelirium · 2 years

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You have no idea how excited I got when I saw you posted about Aemond Targaryen requests ❤️ can I request a. story with him and reader Where he gets jealous. Like a Lord from a different house keeps trying to get her hand in marriage. Also the reader grew up in castle and has been his best friend since babies.

You Belong To Me || Aemond Targaryen x Reader

A/N: so I slightly diverted from the request, but the overall premise is pretty much the same :) hope you enjoy

Summary: Aemond and the reader have been best friends since childhood, however Y/N’s desire to find a husband awakens extreme jealousy in the prince, making him realize his feelings for her. But what if it’s too late?

Warnings: Angst, Jealousy, Fluff end

Growing up, Aemond never really had any friends. It made perfect sense to him, he was a prince above all and after years of putting up with his brother’s and nephews’ cruel pranks, he had long ago stopped trusting most people. However lady Y/N was a rare exception, the daughter of a northern lord who had sent her as a lady in waiting to princess Helaena, in hopes of her finding a noble husband, when the day comes.

During those years by the chance of fate Y/N had grown very close to the younger prince. She’d be the first to console him after the numerous times his brother would try to humiliate him and when he lost his eye, Y/N would sneak into his chambers every night to tell him stories until he’d fall asleep, much to the disapproval of her septa. Even Queen Alicent, soon after the incident, grew fond of the northern girl, who was always by Aemond's side. Like any mother would, she found comfort in the thoughts that her beloved son had someone to care for him.

Years had passed, despite the loss of his eye, the younger prince had grown into a dangerous swordsman and Y/N had flowered into a beautiful young maiden, still full of hope and dreams. And though the two couldn't spend as much time together, they still deeply cared for each other.

It was a bright sunny day in King’s Landing and Y/N was accompanying princess Helaena on her daily walk through the lavish gardens. The girls were so caught up in their sweet talks that they almost didn’t notice the two silver haired princes approaching them.

“Ah there you are, dear sister. Excited for the upcoming feast in honor of your wedding with Aegon, I assume” Aemond smirked at Helaena, making his brother scoff at the reminder.

“Gods, the wedding” Y/N beamed “I wonder when will my turn come, what if I meet someone at the feast”

Suddenly Aemond’s whole demeanor dropped, those words struck him like an arrow. Of course like any young lady, Y/N would dream of meeting her future husband, he knew that day would eventually come, but for so many years he had subconsciously chosen to ignore these thoughts.

It was the day of Helaena and Aegon’s wedding. Earlier that day, Y/N had helped the princess ready herself. While she was gently placing the ornate garments on Helaena frame, Y/N couldn’t help but let her imagination wander to the day of her own wedding. Ever since a child, she had dreamed of that moment, but as the years went by, her hopes of it coming to fruition were slowly fading away. Not long ago she had come of age and yet not a single marriage proposal or even an attempt at courting had come upon her. Aemond was like her shadow, the only man she had spoken to and his presence seemed to prove effective in scaring any possible suitors away.

This night, however, Y/N was determined to find herself a betrothed, she had to, or her impatient father would soon marry her off to some old cruel northern lord in hopes for an alliance. She carefully picked up the dress Queen Alicent had sent her, it was a deep emerald green color with delicate gold embroidery across the bodice. Y/N smiled to herself, having grown up without her mother, made her really grateful for having Alicent by her side.

The royal wedding was a grandiose affair, tables lavishly decorated with exotic flowers and the finest gold cutlery. Nobles from the far east and highborns from all across the seven kingdoms had come to pay their respects. It was clear that the queen wanted this event to be remembered.

Y/N sat in awe of the scenery before her, indulging in the stories of the foreign ladies sitting beside her, that’s when she noticed Aemond, standing by one of the decorated pillars and she could swear he was stealing glances at her. Oh how she wanted to go and talk with him, her closest friend, but Y/N knew that if she did, all her chances of finally finding a suitor would be damned.

“Care for a dance, my lady” Y/N was suddenly shaken from her thoughts. A man with golden curls and piercing green eyes was extending his hand to her. ‘A Lannister, perhaps’ she thought to herself. The maiden happily accepted his offer, it looked like luck was at last upon her.

She spent the whole night dancing and talking to the Lannister lord, she quite enjoyed his company, though she had to admit none of it could compare to the company of her prince. What she didn’t know, however, was that throughout her whole time with the lord, Aemond was staring daggers at them. The one eyed prince couldn’t explain it, but a burning rage was building up inside him. The sight of another man touching Y/N, his Y/N was so antagonizing, he hadn’t noticed how strongly he was gripping the handle of his sword, oh how he wanted to slice it through the golden bastard. He was trying to keep his composure, but once he saw the couple heading outside to the gardens, he could no longer contain himself, he got up and followed them, anger mixed with jealousy clouding his vision.

The night sky was clear, thousands of stars glistening like diamonds. Y/N was beaming, walking by the lion, smiling and talking about her dreams of the future. This fairytale moment, however, was shortly cut by no other than the dragon prince himself, her Aemond.

“Y/N, come, let’s go” he scowled, looking her directly in the eyes. But before the puzzled girl was able to respond, the Lannister man stepped forward “And why should she listen to you? As far as I’ve heard, she’s not your betrothed, she does not belong to you” he laughed.

These words awoke a whole new level of rage in the young prince, furious, he took out his sword and pointed it at the man’s chest, making Y/N let out a frightened squeal “Aemond, don’t” she pleaded.

“You know who I am, don’t you, you pest” the prince hissed at the lion, without putting down his weapon. “Dare you say another word, none of your Lannister gold will be able to save your life from my dragon” this threat undoubtedly scared the man as he turned around and headed back to the feast, without a word.

“Why? Why did you do this” Y/N whispered on the verge of tears. “I thought you were my friend, I thought you wanted me to be happy”

“Come, let’s go inside” Aemond sighed, taking her hand in his.

“NO” the girl protested “All these years I’ve been by your side, I’ve done everything for you to be happy and this is what you do to me? All I wanted was just to be happy!”

“He doesn't deserve you, he is NOT the one for you” the prince snapped.

“Oh, and who is then? Some old ugly lord, that my father is going to marry me off to and-” her words were suddenly cut off by a soft pair of lips on top of hers. Y/N was caught completely off guard, memories of their childhood flooding back, but it didn’t take her long to return the kiss, instantly clasping her hands around his neck. That kiss was full of longing, it was a release for all these feelings they’ve had developed for each other throughout the many years. It now all made perfect sense to Y/N, all these years she had spent imagining her future spouse, too scared to think of the one she truly desired, her dragon, her Aemond.

Once out of breath, they pulled away, resting their foreheads together.

“Me, you belong to me” Aemond whispered, gently caressing her cheek.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #house of the dragon #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon fanfiction #hotd x reader #aemond targaryen x oc #prince aemond

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redcarpet-streetstyle · 4 months

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#disha patani #fashion #bollywood #Baaghi #Lavish Alice #2018

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mermaidgirl30 · 1 month

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✨Take Me to Wonderland✨

A/N: Thank you so much @5oh5 for being my beta, I so appreciate it 🩷 This fic took over my mind last week and I just had to write it out. This one was super self-indulgent for me. I’ve always loved Alice in Wonderland and thought I could definitely pull Joel into the mix. I hope you enjoy going to Wonderland with Joel 🥹

Summary: You find yourself in Wonderland, but you think you’ve been here before. And the handsome stranger, Joel Miller, is someone that definitely seems familiar.

Pairing: Joel x fem! reader

Word Count: 14.7k

Rating: Explicit (18+ Only MDNI)

Tags: Soft Joel, soft dom! Joel, no outbreak, Alice in Wonderland AU, smut, creampie, unprotected p in v, oral receiving (fem), reader finds Wonderland, lots of fluff

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

The bright lights from the lavish dinner party hall give you a blaring headache. This is the third one this week you’ve had to attend. It’s just the same routine. Another dinner, more socializing you don’t want to be a part of, putting on fake smiles to impress some higher up rich snobs just so you can make a good impression for your company.

You’re exhausted, so brutally tired that you could probably crawl up on one of the window sills and take a much needed cat nap with the way your body is lagging in your sparkly wedges. You drag your feet across the polished wooden floor and press your hands down firmly against your short sky blue dress, the fabric swishing around your soft thighs as you smooth the skirt out.

The smell of expensive wine and top brand steak lace through the air, the sound of soft classical music buzzing through your ears as you casually slide by important business men and women intermingling on the middle of the dance floor.

You pick up a glass of champagne and let the harsh taste slide down your parched throat, letting the liquid bubble inside you as you set it back down against the silky white table cloth. You want to go home, leave this fancy feast where talk of money and stocks fly through the air. If only there was some sort of distraction that could take you away from it all.

Suddenly, you see fast movements from the corner of your right eye. You shoot your head that direction and see what looks to be a white cotton tail jump through the sea of Coach shoes and fancy tailored suits. You move your head to see around a woman’s long silky coat and see flurries of hopping movements, the color of snow dancing through the crowd.

You take a few steps forward to see just what it is, your curiosity getting the best of you. You take one more step and stop the moment you see just what it is. A small white rabbit sits in the middle of the crowd. It has long white ears, probably as smooth as a feather, and big blue eyes that seem to look inside your soul. It holds up a golden watch and points straight at the hour hand and turns back around, running toward the long, empty hall outside of the ballroom.

A white rabbit? Did no one else see that? Are you just that tired that you’re hallucinating?

You look around to all the people in the crowd, but no one seems to notice the white rabbit that just leapt its way through the ballroom, and no one seems to notice your wide-eyed gaze. You turn to the brown wooden door and see the white rabbit point once more to its shiny watch, nodding its head as it runs outside of the room and disappears.

You take a step forward in the direction the rabbit went, but then stop a moment. Are you really going to chase after something that has to be an illusion? You look back to the sea of faces you don’t even know, watching as their fake laughter and imposter stances make you sick. You take one more look to the open door and nod. Hell yes you’re going to chase after a white rabbit.

You sprint to the door, careful not to trip over your high wedges as you chase after the rabbit. You see it at the end of the hall waiting for you, fluffy ears standing high as it holds the ticking watch in its hands as the shine of the watch reflects off the clear glass windows. It runs around the corner, not waiting for you as it keeps going. A clear game of tag as the rabbit seems amused at your clear exhaustion of trying to catch it.

“Wait!” you shout down the echoing halls, hoping the rabbit will hear you, but when you turn it’s disappearing yet again. This time, going through a small, dark hole in the wall as it drops the grand watch to the marble floor, not stopping to pick it up.

“Wait, you forgot this!” you shout frantically as you run over and bend down, picking up the watch as your fingers run idly over the golden watch. The watch strikes 7:30pm as its golden second hand spins in a cycle, the minutes ticking by as you hear the faint noise of the watch.

Tick, tick, tick. As the seconds pass by, the ticking seems to stir something in you as you look over to the dark hole in the wall, just big enough to crawl through. You could squeeze in, but should you? You don’t know what’s past the darkness of that wall.

You look back down the long hallway and hear the vacant laughs and chimes of silverware floating down the hall. You have a choice. You either go back in that loud, rambling room of rich pricks or you can go explore the darkness of the hole the white rabbit went through.

You only have one choice. Go chase a fantasy or walk back into a room of people you don’t care about. Your head turns quickly back toward the dark hole, and you decide then.

You choose the fantasy.

You hold tight to the golden watch and sink to your knees as you leave the crowded party down the hall and enter into a quiet, dark tunnel- like hole. The walls are hollow, damp corners filling your vision until you can see nothing but pitch black. You keep on pushing your way through, grunting with all your might as you squeeze through the narrowing walls.

The floor turns from marble flooring to thick, rich grass as you crawl and crawl and crawl until suddenly the opening of the room is large, towering above you. Deep green grass surrounds you, a lofty ceiling made of moss hangs freely from the darkness, and then you see a bright light.

You shift your way through the plushy grass and look through a little keyhole as warm light bursts through. You place your hands on the intricate pink doorway and look through the tiny hole. There, in the middle of a cobblestone path, stands the rabbit. It looks back at you, nodding its head as if to say “Come on now, you’re late.”

You push on the heavy door, putting every ounce of strength into your arms as you can until you hear a locking sound click into place. You shove once more and then you’re falling forward as the doorway jars open.

You land with a thud on the concrete steps and take a minute to smooth out your dress as you stand up. Once you do, you watch the white rabbit speed off ahead of you, daring you to chase after it. You’re awfully sick of playing this game of tag, but you run after it into a sea of green as you enter into a maze of thick bushes.

The rabbit jumps through the green maze, zipping around tight corners as you huff to try to keep up. You nearly run straight into a tall, mangy bush as you slide amongst the slippery pebbled path.

“Wait!” you call out. “You’re going too fast, please!”

Just as the rabbit disappears around another corner and you follow after it, you wind up in a massive open area. You stop and gasp as you take in the tall, colorful wildflowers, the rush of the lilac scented breeze, the mist of a flowing river as a rushing waterfall tumbles into the clear, blue water.

What is this place?

The rabbit hops up to you and grabs the golden watch from your hand, stealing it back as its furry paw flexes around it.

“You’re late.” The voice comes out deep, the sound of a male’s voice as he hops off into a thick, green forest. Before he disappears completely, he sticks his furry ears out behind a tree and curls a paw his way. “Well, don’t just stand there. Come on! He’s waiting,” he calls as he disappears behind a sea of thick trees.

He’s waiting? Who is waiting? And did that rabbit just talk? You must be losing your mind.

�� You shake your head clear as you walk past a patch of colorful wildflowers. Lilies, tulips, and flowers you don’t know the names of all sprawl out in a thick patch of colors. Vibrant purples, blues, pinks, greens, yellows, and reds collide together in a row of lavish intricacy.

As you look across the patch of lush green grass you see white roses that drip red, mixing the colors together as if blood stains the pure white roses. You find it kind of odd to have a field of untouched, beautiful wildflowers and then a row of rose bushes that seem to be tainted by paint.

“Odd. This place is so odd,” you murmur as you move along the straight trail that will lead you to the trees where the rabbit disappeared. “Silly rabbit, what am I possibly late for? Who was he talking about when he said he’s waiting? Who is he?”

The questions swirl through your head as you pass through the flower field. You hear whispers, quiet and meek as they dance through the large, colorful field. She’s here. She’s finally here! Oh, finally. He’s been waiting for so long.

Are the flowers talking about you? Is that what you’re hearing? No. It can’t possibly be. This is too much. You have to be hallucinating or asleep. This isn’t real. None of this is real.

You push yourself further up the path, passing painted butterflies of orange, blue, and white colors as they flutter above your head. The area is so green, lush grass and vibrant plants every which way you look. Glowing mushrooms the color of hot pink line the way through the thick trees, and you follow.

You end up on a winding path, a soft, salmon colored dust path that splits off into four different directions. You turn to the left, to the right, looking all four ways as your mind races like a ticking clock.

A large white wooden sign sits to the left of the path, arrows pointing in all different directions as the signs read This Way, That Way, Up Here, Wrong Way, Down Here. There’s no rhyme or reason to any of this madness. How the fuck were you going to get out of this mess if the signs couldn’t even be read?!

You stomp one of your shoes into the dirt and kick some pink dust up, feeling yourself losing your patience as this place isn’t making any sense. First, there was a white rabbit with a golden watch, then you crawled through a small hole that led you to some sort of fantasy land, then the rabbit accused you of being late, and now this.

You kick the edge of the wooden sign with your foot aggressively and let out a deep huff. “How do I get out of here?” you sigh as you cross your arms and furrow your eyebrows together.

“You want to get out of here? But you only just got here!” A slithery, deep voice slips down from one of the jacaranda trees and startles you as you jump back from the voice.

“Who’s there?” you ask shakily as you look up into the big purple leaves of the massive trees. You search and search until a large cat comes out of the shadows and shows its face. You stop in your tracks and look up as a pair of big green eyes appear on a low hanging branch. Its body materializes next as thick lines of purple and pink paint its long-haired fur.

“Who is there is a good question, isn’t it? I know who you are, but you don’t know me. How intriguing,” he smiles as he hangs off the branch and twists his body to where his face is right in front of yours. His green eyes glow like fairy lanterns and his pearly white sharp incisors seem to go on for miles.

“How do you know who I am?” you ask nervously as you stare back into eyes that lock on yours. His smile widens as he drops his body further, seeming to float in space as he places his sharp paws underneath his chin.

“Oh, my dear. Everyone knows who you are here. It’s no secret. We’ve been waiting. Mostly he’s been waiting. And what a treat that’ll be. You’re even prettier than I imagined,” he chuckles deeply as he spins his body around yours, floating in thin air.

“Who is he that everyone seems to be talking about?” you ask annoyed as you cross your bare arms over your chest and turn to follow his floating body. You want answers and you want them now.

“You’ll find out soon, very soon,” he laughs as his fanned out tail glides against your shoulder, leaving a feather-like touch to your skin.

“Fine, if you won’t tell me then just tell me which way I’ll find him,” you demand as you place your hands on your hips, letting the soft material of your blue dress sink through you.

“This way,” he points to the left, his claws sharp like knives as he switches directions and points to the right. “No, this way. Actually, maybe it’s north of here,” he smiles as he points up from where he floats.

You purse your lips to try to keep yourself calm. “Please, just tell me where to go,” you plead, eyes burning red as you try to keep your composure together, but it’s slowly breaking the more this cat plays with you.

“You’re exactly where you need to be, my dear. Just hold tight,” he smiles as he disappears into thin air, his voice carrying through the wind as it slowly slips away. Vanishing just like that.

You look every which way while fisting your hands to your side and turn back toward the direction you first came, looking out into the wildflower fields that paint the ground a sea of rainbow colors. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, letting the cool breeze hit your skin as you inhale scents of fresh roses and lilty daisies.

“Home, I need to get back home,” you whisper silently.

Just as you take another deep breath, you hear the deep sound of a throat being cleared and then a rugged, gravelly voice break you free of your thoughts of home.

“You lost there, darlin?”

You turn back around, as quick as a bolt of crisp lightning, and you’re about to chew the cat back out until you realize it’s not him. It’s a man. Him. It has to be the one they were all talking about.

You watch as he leans up against the rough bark of a winding tree, his arms crossed over his broad chest as he leans and watches you closely, eyes trailing down your body as he takes you in nice and slow. Suddenly you’re completely nervous and forgetting your words as you take him in.

Tall. He’s so tall, a little over six feet if you had to guess. His eyes are like pools of honey. Deep, brown eyes that seem to have flecks of warmth sprinkled all around them. And his arms. God, his arms. Large, muscular as his biceps pull at the blue flannel button-up that wraps tightly around him. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, exposing large veins that seem to thread and skate down his arms as they end in massive hands. Hands that probably feel warm, safe.

His blue jeans cling to his thick thighs as clean leather boots lace up over his large feet. He smirks over at you, a flirtatious, playful look that says he’s trouble written all over that gorgeous face. A smooth, patchy beard and mustache cover his face with silver lining the edges. And his hair. Dark tousled curls that spill over the edges of his forehead, and you think they look soft to the touch, maybe even like velvet.

He looks like trouble to you. Warm, inviting, fun trouble.

God, he’s so handsome.

“Well?” he asks again, waiting for you to answer.

“I…I…” you stutter out, unable to even form a comprehensive sentence. What the fuck is wrong with you?

“Cat got your tongue?” he chuckles as the deep sound from his chest seems to reverberate right off the hollow tree barks, landing right into your own chest. It’s like you can feel his laugh. Warm, syrupy, infectious. He’s like a dream. A dream that doesn’t seem to be quite real.

You shake your head, clearing the fog as you find your words again. “I was just looking for my way out of here. Back home,” you answer as you take a step forward and lace your fingers together as you hold them nervously behind your back.

“Back home? You already want to leave so soon?” he laughs as he pushes himself off the tree and takes a few steps forward, crunching his leather boots over the salmon colored dirt of the road.

“Of course she doesn’t. She hasn’t even seen all of Wonderland yet,” the cat replies as he comes out of thin air and rests on the handsome man’s shoulders, his lined purple tail curling around his long neck. “I think she wants you to show her Wonderland,” he says with mischief written all over those glowing green cat eyes.

“Wonderland?” you ask with your eyebrows knit together in concentration. “What’s Wonderland?”

The cat twists its flexible body over the man’s arm, floating off to his side as he smiles brightly up at him. “I’ll let you lead the way. Good luck,” he grins as a loud laugh carries through every path of the massive forest. “Goodbye, pretty girl,” he calls as he vanishes once again into thin air, only the glow of his jagged smile staying in the cotton clouds, high above the trees.

You shake your head and laugh under your breath. This place isn’t real. It can’t be. “Who was that?” you ask the man as he crosses his arms and looks over at you with a gleam in his shiny brown eyes.

“That’s the Cheshire Cat. You can just call him Ches for short. That’s what we all call him,” he replies as he takes another step toward you, getting so close that you can smell him. Rich mahogany and the scent of deep pine needles. Intoxicating.

“And you? Who are you?” you ask as you flick your eyes over him, seeing just how large in stature he is.

“The name’s Joel. Joel Miller,” he nods as he sticks a large hand out to you, edging you to take it as he shoves it closer to you after you do nothing but stare at it.

You finally get the courage to reach your hand out and place it in his. You gasp as soon as he closes his strong grip on yours. His fingers are thick, calloused, warm as you slowly shake his hand.

His eyes lock on yours and it’s like you’re frozen in time, flecks of golden brown staring back at you as you quickly come back to reality. You drop his hand and take a step back, breaking the soft introduction as you stare at the small crevices in the ground.

“I know who you are.” He says your name softly as if he’s known you for years. And it sounds so good coming off his tongue, like a melody that sweeps past the breeze and lands right into a large bed of wildflowers. Gentle. He says your name so gently, soft. But how does he know your name? This doesn’t make any sense.

“How do you know my name?” you ask suspiciously as you watch him shift his weight back and forth against the firm ground.

He chuckles like this is all a game to him, like you know him already when in reality he’s a complete stranger. Someone you’ve never met. You would’ve remembered if you met someone like him before.

“There’s a lot I know about you, sweetheart,” he smirks, a devastatingly handsome smile that you can’t help but melt over.

Sweetheart? Something shifts inside you as you take in his handsome face, his warm eyes that seem to drip like flowing honey. A gleam in his eye that tells you you do know him. But how? You want to stare into those entrancing eyes, want to walk over and trace your fingers against the starry flecks of warmth, but there’s no time for that. You need answers, now.

“What is this place? Wonderland is what Ches said. What’s Wonderland?”

Joel just laughs and shakes his head. “Wonderland has been here for a very long time. It’s been here waiting for you. It’s been so long, darlin’. So very long. We didn’t think you’d ever come,” he says quietly as he huffs a sigh of relief that you’re actually standing here in front of him.

“You’ve been waiting? What? I don’t understand. I’ve never been here before. This has got to be some sick fantasy. I must’ve fallen and bumped my head. None of this is real.”

“You sure about that, sweetheart?” he asks as one of his dark eyebrows raises high on his forehead, eyes staring at you as if he’s waiting for you to say something else.

You question his stance but quickly shake your head out of the daze. “Yes, this isn’t real. Now I’m going to close my eyes and pinch myself and then I’ll wake up back in the real world,” you confirm as you close your eyes tightly and dream of home.

Home. You mean back to your overwhelming, overworked life as you engage in endless meetings and parties with people that don’t matter. Is that what you really want to go back to? Is that what you want?

You keep your eyes sealed closed as you grit your teeth together and think of home. Home. Back to your warm bed and back to your cat, Duchess. You feel a pinch sting your arm as you squeeze your fingertips together, but to no avail. It doesn’t seem to work.

You hear the sounds of a deep chuckle rumbling in front of you, and then you peel your eyes open to see Joel standing a few paces away as he crosses his strong arms and shakes his head in dismissal. He’s laughing at you.

“What’s so funny?” you ask annoyed, huffing out as you see you’re still in Wonderland. It didn’t work.

“Didn’t work, did it?” he smirks, his large hand dragging down his coarse beard as his penetrating gaze keeps you in place.

You gulp, catching your own breath as you answer quietly. “No. I guess it didn’t…”

“That’s because this is real,” he confirms as he takes another step closer to you, boots scuffing against the dirt as he takes another and another and another until he’s standing right in front of you, wild brown eyes sinking down into yours.

You shake your head, unwilling to accept that this may very well be real. “This isn’t real. You’re not real.”

“Not real, huh? Reach out and touch the trunk of the tree,” he instructs as his gentle voice carries through the crisp air.

“Why?”

“Just do it, will ya?” he asks with more force in his rugged voice, the sound making you stand up straighter as it reverberates down your spine.

“You’re a stubborn one, ain’t ya?” he chuckles, a Southern drawl carrying through the wind as it lands straight through your ringing eardrums.

“Guess so,” you laugh.

You reach your arm out timidly and stroke the dark bark of the tree, feeling the rough edges snag against the palm of your hand.

“There ya go, just like that,” he praises as you feel his hot breath breathing down your neck, your skin suddenly boiling alive as you breathe in the scent of fresh bark and wood as it seems to cloud your racing mind.

You take a step back out of his reach and look nervously around you. It sure felt real, but it still didn’t explain how you were here.

As if he sees the wavering expression on your face, he speaks again. Low and gruff sounds falling off the tip of his tongue. “This place is real. Just as much as I am. Here, close your eyes for a second,” he says nicely as he takes another step forward.

You take a step back, and he holds his hands up to say he’s not going to hurt you. “Please, just for a second. Close ‘em. Need you to trust me, sweetheart.”

As your mind caves to his request, you find yourself obeying. You close your eyes and twist your fingers around the hem of your dress, letting the nerves drift away as you try to relax.

“Now, take a deep breath. Focus on the sounds of the rushing water, the trees gently blowing through the wind, the air around you as it blows through your hair. Just listen, get lost in the sounds, in yourself,” he instructs with a lilty voice, the sounds instantly calming you as you follow his instructions.

You slow your breathing down, taking nice, deep breaths as you lose yourself to your surroundings. You hear the faint hum of honey bees dancing through the wildflowers, feel the rush of spring air as it blows gently through your flowing hair, hear the trickle of the river as the distant waterfall clashes against rocks and smooth water.

Focus. Deep breaths. This is real, this is real.

Before you can take another breath, a large palm slides against your cheek, and you almost jolt at the electric spark it ignites in your body.

“Does this feel real to you?” he asks quietly, the volume of his words coming off as composed, soft, warm.

You carefully place your hand over his as you feel the opposite textures of his skin. The back of his hand is soft, smooth as your fingers timidly graze along his tanned skin. His palm is rough, calloused fingers hovering over your jawline as his thick fingers stay right there on your face.

It feels strange how warm and inviting he feels, how vaguely familiar he seems as you breathe in the taste of mahogany and pinewood, letting the scent coat your lungs as you drink it down. You want to box it up, wrap it tightly in a jar so you can fill your surroundings with the smell of him.

“Open your eyes,” he whispers, his hand still grazing your jawline as you flutter your eyelids open.

Your eyes grow wide as you see him standing right in front of you, boots meeting the edges of your open wedge shoes as you see just how clear and coated his glossy brown eyes are now.

“This real enough for you?” he asks quietly as he slides his calloused thumb across your cheek once more, filling your insides with warmth and peace. A peace you’ve been craving for months.

“Yes,” you whisper out, voice deceiving you as he drops his hand and chuckles, taking a step back as he digs his fingers into the pocket of his dark jeans. You’re suddenly aware that the warmth is gone from your face. It left the moment he dropped his fingers from your jawline.

You take a moment to breathe, letting the warm sunlight wash over your fair skin as you let the scent of lilies and forest scents bring you back to earth. You take one more deep breath and ask the question that haunts your mind.

“What am I doing here, Joel? How am I? I just… I just don’t understand.” Your right hand grabs the edge of the satiny material of your light blue dress as your eyes wander back over to the man with broad shoulders and beautiful eyes.

He shrugs a little, but smiles underneath the hoods of his brown eyes. “You needed an escape, darlin’. You opened the door to Wonderland. You found it, with a little help from the white rabbit,” he responds with a deep chuckle. “But, ultimately, you found it on your own. It’s your fantasy land.”

“My fantasy land? But I… I’ve never been here before. How could it be mine if I didn’t even know about it? And you. How could you possibly know I was coming?” you ask with your voice raised, endless questions brewing as if this was all impossible in the first place.

Impossible. This place is impossible.

“I wasn’t sure you would come. I only hoped you would,” he says softly as warm brown eyes look down into yours, feelings stirring inside you that you can’t quite decipher. Too twisted, too tied in knots, too risky to untangle.

“Why do I feel like I’ve known you for years? I only just met you…” you whisper vacantly, your voice hollowing out on the last syllable as something snaps inside you. A feeling of… tranquility.

“A funny feelin’, ain’t it? Those feelings are never really wrong though, are they?”

His pondering questions make you feel crazy, mind boggling as you slowly shake your head. No. That can’t be true. Or is he just twisting your mind to make you believe whatever he says? But somehow you know he’s not lying to you. He wouldn’t. Somehow you know he’s not playing tricks on you. Deep down you know, he’s telling the truth.

You run your fingers through your hair and let them fall back down to your sides unfaltering. “Am I mad? Have I lost my mind?” you ask distraughtly as you bite your lower lip and knit your eyebrows together in deep thought.

He takes a step forward, golden eyes shining in the sunlight as he laughs and shakes his head. “We’re all a little mad here, darlin’.”

You stifle a small laugh and shake your head knowingly. “Mmm,” you hum as you take in the madness of the words.

We’re all mad here.

He nods his head as a curl falls down against his forehead, leaning toward the winding path that’ll take you north into a forest of wonders. “C’mon. Follow me.”

Follow me. The words twist off his tongue as they echo through your mind. Follow me. What will happen if you do follow him?

You turn back toward the way you came, eyes searching for a hidden door you can’t see anymore. Covered by twisting vines and a sea of green mazes that snake around the overflowing garden. No turning back now.

You feel Joel’s large presence behind you, drawing closer and closer until he’s right behind you as his dark shadow falls across the salmon colored pathway. You inhale a deep breath, but all you smell is pine needles and fresh wood and maybe a hint of fresh cut grass. You smell him.

“You’ve gotta stop lookin’ back from the way you came, sweetheart. I know that’s the last place you want to be right now. You want to be away from the noise, the stress, the fake smiles.”

His voice slides against the shell of your ear, reverberating down to your chest as his words sting your insides. Of course you don’t want to go back to that. So why are you looking back?

“What are you so scared of, sweetheart? Hmm?” he asks quietly, his fingertips grazing the edge of your arm as goosebumps form over the sensitive areas he touches. Wildfire burning in the thick brush of trees is what it feels like. Fiery, tempting, smoldering. You can almost taste the flames. Those stirring, enticing flames.

“Everything,” you whisper, pulling all the courage in your gut to answer his question. What are you so scared of?

“Everything, huh? Darlin’, you don’t have to be scared of me. You don’t have to fear this place. This is your safe haven, your sanctuary. Take a leap of faith. Come join me. Follow me through the trees. There’s nothin’ to fear. The only thing you should fear is time itself. So relax. Can you do that for me?” he asks, his hot breath blowing down your exposed neck as you feel his large hand slip down to your waist, barely grazing your light blue dress as his lips sit dangerously close to your jawline.

You don’t have to be scared of me. Relax. This is your safe haven. The words simmer in your mind as your heartbeat races in your blood. The only thing you should fear is time itself.

“The only thing you should fear is time?” you repeat, the words leaving your lips as you feel his calloused fingers trace a flyaway hair behind your ear, tucking it back neatly as he lines his soft lips up to your earlobe and whispers.

“Time, darlin’. You can’t escape it, can’t run from it. But you can run with the madness, let your mind unwind just a little as you slip away into wonder. Let me show you the way,” he coaxes, a sweet melody that enchants your very soul, pulling you toward him, away from all the noise of the outside world, away from normalcy.

You feel him slip from your grasp as you open your eyes up and turn slowly in his direction, seeking his soft brown eyes and deft fingers again. He smirks over at you, a mischievous grin as he nods his head and holds out his hand.

“Follow me through Wonderland, sweetheart. Let me show you exactly what I’m talking about.”

You look at his outstretched hand and look back behind you, back to the way you came in. No going back. This is your chance. Take a leap of faith. Follow him through Wonderland.

You turn once more and see him nod his head, a gentle smile curling up against the sides of his mouth as his warm eyes wade into yours. It’s like you hear his calming drawl as you look at his outstretched hand, calloused fingers reaching your way, convincing you to take it.

Follow me through Wonderland. Let me show you.

You lift your hand, curling your fingers as you think twice about it. His soft brown eyes relax, the crow’s feet pulling at the edges of his tanned skin as his crinkled eyes tell you it’s okay. You can take his hand.

“C’mon, sweetheart. You can trust me,” he says softly, his large palm reaching out a little more, coaxing you to take it.

It’s like you hear the swaying whispers of the wild flowers in the fields, their small trills of voices as they carry through the wind. Take his hand. He’s safe. He’s been waiting so long for you. Let him take you to Wonderland.

You feel it inside your chest, the building breaths and aching longing that leads you to him. Just one more glance at those brown flecks of warmth and that’s all it takes to convince you.

You reach your hand out and press it slowly into his palm, letting his calloused fingers lace through yours as you gasp at the warmth that simmers there. Safe, he’s safe.

He leads you forward through the thick trees, passing peculiar species of birds and plants you’ve never seen before. All shades of the rainbow laid out like a colorful map for you to take in. As you look around in awe, Joel turns his head back and smiles at you. A warm, gentle smile that makes your insides melt with affection.

He continues leading you through this beautiful, strange world. Further, further, further until you’re almost to the end of the pink road, following Joel as he takes the lead.

His hand presses into yours more, calloused fingers brushing over yours as comfort embeds your entire skin.

Familiar, he seems so familiar like you’ve been here before, like you’ve held his hand before, like you’ve known him for so long. And it’s strange, such a strange feeling that encompasses your whole being.

You reach the end of the path and then end up in a wide open space that looks like an enchanted forest. Rows of colorful tulips, marigolds, and lillies cover the area. Green hills in the far distance tower high in the sky, lush grass covers the ground, and a running river crashes lightly to the left of a cobblestone path.

As you walk through the path of vivid flowers, you swear you hear them whispering, calling your name as your bare legs brush past them. And it sounds like they’re talking about you.

Joel chuckles quietly in front of you as he shakes his head, ruffling his tousled curls as he turns and looks back at you.

“Did I hear the flowers whisper my name? Or am I hearing things?” you ask as he looks at you with sun kissed lips and brown flecked eyes.

“They uh… they were definitely talkin’ ‘bout ya. Don’t mind them. They like to gossip to each other,” he laughs, the infectious sound flowing through your ears as you can’t help but smile shyly back up at him.

He really is handsome.

“What are they saying?” you ask as he continues to lead you through the glowing sunshine of the glittering forest.

“They think you’re pretty,” he blushes as if he’s hiding something else, but you don’t push for more answers.

“Pretty, huh? That’s what they think?”

“Mhm. Beautiful…” he whispers under his breath, making your cheeks blush crimson as you fight a growing smile on your glossy lips.

As you continue walking through patches of soft grass, past more whispering tulip fields, you can’t help but wonder if this is all a trick of the eye. Everything is so beautiful, so surreal like that it’s hard to wrap your head around this place.

Joel looks back your way and squeezes your hand, assessing your wandering gaze as you watch a bright blue butterfly land on Joel’s shoulder, the butterfly seeming to stare up at him as Joel smiles down and nods. “Hello, Absolem.”

“Absolem?” you ask as the butterfly turns your way and crawls on the back of your hand, looking up at you as if he’s trying to talk to you. No words come out of his mouth, but you swear you see a tiny speck of a smile on his lips as he flies away and leaves you standing there watching in awe.

“Absolem,” Joel confirms.

“You talk to butterflies in your spare time?” you laugh as you casually tease him. He squeezes his hand around you and shakes his head.

“We’re in Wonderland, remember? You can pretty much talk to anything, even the trees. They’ll eventually answer you.”

“Strange, this is so strange.”

“Just wait till you see the mad tea party up ahead,” he responds as he pulls you deeper into a shaded area covered by big, purple leaves that fill the trees.

“Mad tea party?” you ask with a raised brow.

“You’ll see,” he smirks as he pulls you along.

You walk around a big, shaded tree and come to stand a few feet from a long, narrow table that has tall wooden chairs surrounding it. A lacy white table cloth hangs low over the edges as various icing topped cakes, intricate tea pots, fine china, and pastries litter the table in a heap.

You gasp as you see a mangy rabbit with discombobulated ears yelling about unbirthdays and tea sitting about the table. The white rabbit sits on the opposite side assessing his golden watch while arguing with the other rabbit, and the Cheshire Cat floats above the table as he curls his striped tail around his neck. But what wracks your brain a little is the tall, peculiar man that sits at the head of the table.

He has a large green top hat with a decorative pink ribbon around the rim of the hat. His clothes are odd. A red velvet jacket sits atop a purple frilly shirt with a large multicolored bow around his neck. His pants sit pressed against his legs as stripes fill the cotton material.

When he looks up, a large white smile fills his face as bright red hair sticks out underneath his top hat and flashy green eyes stare wildly your way. He drops his cup of tea and sprints over to you in a hurry, wide eyes staring your way in shock.

“It’s you! You finally found your way,” he says out of breath, voice elated with excitement as he looks over at Joel. “Joel, you found her. You brought her back!” he shouts as he jumps up and down in a crazed manner.

“Brought me back?” you ask confused. But you haven’t been here before. Have you?

“She found Wonderland herself, hatter. I didn’t bring her here. She found it on her own.” He looks over at you, and you swear you see pride in his eyes, a fondness that could only be explained by looking into his eyes.

Safe. He’s safe.

“Darlin’, this is the mad hatter.”

The mad hatter takes your hand as he says your name and bows his head as he tips his oversized hat to you, making you feel like you belong here. Like you’re not a stranger to this world.

“Nice to meet you,” you say as you give him a courteous greeting.

He smiles up at you with a big Cheshire grin and asks you the most curious question you’ve ever heard before. “Why is a raven like a writing desk?” he asks with big green eyes as he leans forward with his hands clapping together in anticipation.

“Umm I’m not sure…” you say quizzically, eyebrows knit together as Joel just shakes his head.

“Hatter, she doesn’t have time for questions like that. Let her be. Her and Joel have places to go,” the white rabbit says as he holds up his ticking watch, the other rabbit just pointing and laughing at nothing in particular.

“Oh, right. Well you must come back for tea! We can celebrate your unbirthday and have lots of tea and cake,” he shouts loudly as he bows and skips back over to the table, joining the madness of the tea party again.

“Go on now,” the Cheshire Cat says as he waves you off with the flick of his purple paw. “Have fun with Joel.” He smiles a wide, bright smile at you as it curls into a devious smirk, pure trouble behind those blinding green eyes.

Joel chuckles under his breath and shakes his head. “C’mon, darlin’. Got a lot more to show you.” He grabs your wrist and pulls you the opposite way of the tea party as you hear the faint shouts and laughs from the ridiculousness of it all.

As you walk through a trail of wispy willows and white rose bushes, you ask him another question as you follow his lead. “You live here? In Wonderland?”

“Mhm. Got a house right up that winding path.” He points to a cobblestone path that leads into a valley of tall, green trees that overlook the side of a flowing waterfall.

“It’s just you?” you ask, eyes fixed on the large veins in his neck as he purses his lips together and nods his head.

“Jus’ me, darlin’.”

“It must get lonely here. By yourself, I mean,” you say as you nip at your bottom lip, hoping you’re not overstretching your questions.

“It can be, I suppose.” At those words, his thick fingers wrap tighter around your wrist, almost as if he’s latching on to you, hoping you won’t leave too soon. You can almost hear the wallowing of his words as if he speaks them out loud to you.

Don't go away. Stay here with me.

You continue walking, the green grass catching on your shoes as you come across a large, glistening pond. Massive green lily pads with pink flowers that sit atop them wade in the water as they float gently in the breeze. Joel nods his head and takes a step forward, but you take a step back, fear coursing through you.

“You want me to cross that?” you ask all wide-eyed and mouth falling open as you see no other way across. “Wouldn’t the lily pads just sink?”

“They’re solid, made for crossing by foot. It’s alright. I do it all the time.”

He holds his hand out, his large palm facing up as he nods for you to take it. You weigh your options carefully. Either turn back to the mad tea party or take your chances here with Joel. You know which one you want to choose.

His brown eyes become warmer, golden flecks dancing in his irises as he spreads his fingers wider, taking a step in your direction as he asks you once more to put a little faith in him.

“C’mon, sweetheart. You trust me?” he asks as his eyebrows knit together in a tight line, his eyes searching yours as he waits for an answer. There’s that look again, the one you saw back at the entrance from where you came. You hear the words so carefully.

You can trust me.

“Yes,” you breathe, putting your hand in his as a smile curls up on his lips that forms a dimple against his cheek.

He’s so fucking handsome.

“Well, c’mon then, sweetheart. This way,” he responds as he carefully leads you across the floating lily pads.

Glowing coy fish glide under the water as sparkling dragonflies hover over the surface of the crystal clear water and dance around the green lily pads. The smell of spring and rose bushes fill the air as the glowing sun warms your soft skin. This place is so magical.

When you finally cross over to the other side of the pond, Joel leads you over to a sea of giant mushrooms. Pastel pinks, dark blues, violet purples, and shades of ember reds fill the area. And they look so soft to the touch, like velvet beds you can crawl up and take a cat nap on.

Joel turns you around, his eyes softening as those flecks of warmth sink deep into yours. He stands so close to you, so close that you can smell the pine wood and mahogany scent that drip off his very being. You want to inhale that scent, drown in it as it coats your insides, bottle it up so you remember exactly what he smells like.

And then he smiles. That deep, warm smile that seems to pull everything into place. It’s so warm, so calming, so soothing. You’ve seen it before, you know you have. But where? When? You don’t even know. All you know is you have seen him before. You must have.

You gulp and twist your fingers nervously through your skirt that blows gently in the wind, your lips parting open as you find your words. “Why do I feel like this isn’t the first time I’ve met you? I feel… I feel like I’ve known you for so long,” you murmur out carefully as your gears grind together in your brain.

He chuckles, a deep, sated sound that seems to fill your body up with a splash of warmth. “You think you’ve been here before?” he asks curiously, eyebrows raising as he places all his attention on you.

“I don’t… I don’t think so. I would’ve remembered this place. I would’ve remembered you,” you stammer out, your brain cells firing off as you try to remember.

Remember, remember, remember. But you can’t. You can’t.

Your brain starts to go foggy, all memories of this place nonexistent. If you’ve never been here before then why do you feel this way about Joel? Why is he clouding your entire mind with his warm eyes and gentle smile?

“Why do you think you’re here, darlin’? Why do you think you opened up that locked door to Wonderland?” he asks with a tilted head, eyebrows knitting together as he concentrates solely on you.

You gulp as his intense stare lingers on you. Your fingers grip the hem of your dress as you stutter out nonsense. “I… ummm I don’t know…”

“No?” he asks as he crooks his head, a hand sitting deep in the pocket of his jeans as his eyebrows mold together in a tight line. “I think you do, sweetheart.”

You take another breath as you blow it out through your mouth, letting it fall through the wind as you swallow back nerves. “You seem to know, Joel. So tell me. Tell me why I’m here.”

He smirks before he starts to move forward, his broad form coming closer and closer until he’s standing right in front of you. Joel circles you slowly, calloused fingers trailing up your bare arms as he slides behind your tense shoulders. He drags his index finger along your collarbone gently, making you squeak as nerves pull through the pit of your stomach.

“This is why you came here, remember? To let go, to lose yourself in this fantasy,” he purrs as his lips slide against the shell of your ear, breathing hot air down your neck as your body seems to still against the lull of his deep voice.

His thick fingers trace your jawline, your chin, your neck as he courses down to the strap of your delicate sky blue dress and lingers there, slowly hooking a finger under as he whispers seductively into your ear, “So let go.”

Your breath hitches as his sloped nose brushes against yours, his lips hanging inches above yours as you stare at them. Big, plush, enticing lips. Soft. They look so soft, like they’d fit perfectly over yours.

His forehead drops down to yours as you breathe him in deep. Pine trees, wood, sunlight, ecstasy. It’s all you smell, all you feel as his calloused fingers brush over your jawline, lingering under your chin as he brings your face up, up, up. Just enough to be able to brush his lips against yours as you feel hot warmth flood through your insides. Anticipation builds as you nearly moan his name out, your lips parting slightly as you gaze into his warm, starry eyes. And in that moment you want him, badly.

“Is this what you want, sweetheart? Wanna let go and lose yourself in me?” he blows over your lips, his fingers brushing a curl behind your ear as they tease your jawline, making you arch up more as your fingers dig into the soft material of his flannel. “Say yes, let me show you how to let go,” he coaxes.

Without thinking, you let your body take control as you slur the words out effortlessly. “Yes, show me. Show me how to let go,” you whisper.

He wastes no time and crashes into your lips, his large hands cupping your face as he presses deeper against your mouth. Soft. His lips are so fucking soft as they ravish yours deftly.

You part your lips for him, letting him slot his tongue inside your mouth as he glides the tip of it against yours. He dances around your mouth, meticulous circles as you breathe him in, tasting the honeysuckle flavor of his large tongue. You run your fingers through his tousled curls and feel the moan that catches in his mouth, making you burn like wildfire against the sound.

He starts pushing you back and you walk backwards and feel yourself stop as something hits the back of your thighs. He doesn’t let up, doesn’t stop as he takes and takes and takes. Continuing to twist his savory tongue around your mouth.

After a few more seconds of intense kissing and fingers twisting in hair, he breaks the kiss and leans his forehead against yours as his large hands run down your sides, landing on your hips as he starts to hike your dress slowly up. Your breathing is ragged, desperate as you want more.

Give me more, please.

It’s like he senses your need as he asks, “You gonna let go for me, sweetheart? Let me give you what you need?”

“Yes, yes,” you whisper rapidly as you hear him chuckle under his breath.

“Good, let me take care of you, baby. Sit back for me.”

He pushes you back further as you land sitting on top of a dark blue mushroom. It’s big, soft, almost velvety as you lay your palms flat against it. It almost feels like a bed made of feathers. How strange. He puts a hand on your shoulder and gently shoves you back until you’re laying flat against the mushroom, the softness of it all taking over as your heart pounds in your chest.

You look up and see him stalking toward you like a starved dog, his smirk widening as his eyes darken and hound you. When he reaches the edge of the mushroom, he grabs your legs and slides you forward as you hear a small yelp escape your vocal cords.

“What are you… what are you doing?” you ask nervously as he slowly starts to part your legs while dragging his thick fingers up and down your thighs languidly.

“What’s it look like I’m doin’, hmm?” he asks, smirking as he cocks an eyebrow up and digs his nail beds into your flesh, making a coat of slick fall against your now sticky panties.

He moves up, up, up until he’s hovering over your clothed folds, brushing ever so gently against the damp material. Oh, fuck. He teases the waistband of the material and skims over the soft skin underneath, making you bite your bottom lip as you practically beg him with your needy eyes to keep going.

“You want me to keep goin’, baby? You gotta tell me what you want. Use your words, c’mon.”

“I… yes, I…” you stutter out, unable to say anything else as he barely slides the waistband down, just enough to where you feel the gentle breeze blow against your nearly exposed pussy.

Oh, fuck.

“You want me to make you feel good? Want me to take all that stress and pent up energy away?” he asks as his eyes start to pulse into dark pits. “Hmm?” he hums as he brushes the heel of his palm into your dripping center, making you jump at the jolt of electricity.

“Please. Fuck, Joel. Please,” you beg as he hikes your light blue skirt over your hips and presses his thumb into your clothed folds that are already soaking for him.

“Goddamn, darlin’. Already so fuckin’ wet for me,” he hisses as he slips his thumb inside the lace material and brushes his thumb against your soft folds.

He groans as he feels just how wet you are for him. “You have no idea how good I’m gonna make you feel, baby. Just lay back and let me take care of this pretty pussy,” he smirks.

He grabs the edges of the material and slides them fluidly down your legs as he throws them to the ground. He stands back and rakes his hand painfully through his scruff as he knits his eyebrows together and groans at the sight of you.

“Goddamn it, you’re so pretty, baby. Fuck,” he groans as he pushes your knees apart and stares at your pulsing core, a look of pure pain crossing his tan face.

He falls to his knees on the bed of grass as he slowly starts to trail kisses up your legs. He starts at your ankle, slowly working his way up the side of your knee, then pressing sweet kisses to the inside of your thighs as he works you up nice and slow.

He slowly blows a wave of air across your exposed center and lavishly runs his hands up and down your thighs as you feel more slick start to form between your thighs.

“Oh, baby. Fuckin’ drippin’ for me. You look so sweet, just wanna eat you up,” he groans as he places a tender kiss into the crease of your thigh and then slowly, slowly reaches your center, right where you want him.

“Oh,” you breathe out, forgetting how to take even breaths as your body starts to shake.

“Eyes on me, darlin’. Want you to watch,” he purrs, his eyes dark pits as he hooks his meaty hands around your thighs and smirks up at you. “Eyes. On. Me.”

He slowly licks a thick stripe from your dripping hole and glides it up against your soft folds as he repeats the action two more times. You let out a breathy moan as his tongue makes all your nerve endings come alive. Wildfire burning through your body, begging him to give you more.

“Joel,” you moan as he teases the tops of your folds with his large tongue, smirking as his drool runs down your pussy.

“You taste so fuckin’ sweet, darlin’,” he coos out. “Just hang on.”

He lifts his mouth and slowly lets saliva that’s pooling in his mouth drip over your throbbing pussy, letting the warm sensation cover you in bliss. He breathes in deep and then spits on you as he meticulously rubs the fluid around and around and around, rubbing his thumb in tight circles around your aching clit.

You writhe against him and part your lips open, knitting your eyebrows together as the sensation makes your head feel dizzy and light. You choke on another moan as he stares deeply into your eyes as he circles and circles and circles. Rubbing just the right areas as more slick drips down his calloused fingers.

“Joel,” you whine as his calloused thumb presses deeper against your clit.

“That’s right, baby. I’ve got you. Hang on, sweetheart. Not gonna stop till I have you coming on my tongue,” he growls.”

He plunges his soft lips down on you as he parts your folds with his fingers and laps soft circles against your puffy clit. You moan as he devours you and tilt your head back in pure bliss as you stare up at the fluffy cotton candy clouds.

You flutter your eyelashes as you tilt your head to look down at him, his blown out pupils staring up at you wide-eyed as he feasts on you nice and slow. He pulls your throbbing bundle of nerves into his warm mouth, and it takes everything in you to keep from coming in that instant.

He slips two fingers inside your dripping hole as he plunges deep inside you, curling his fingers up to hit that spot that makes you see stars in your blurry vision. You twist your fingers into his tousled curls as he moans against you, pulling your clit back into his mouth as he sucks you down, down, down.

You hear the squelching noises of his fingers plunging in and out of you, feel the pressure building in your spine as he licks and sucks your glistening clit. You feel like you’re on cloud nine, feel as if it’s just you and Joel in this fantasy land, feel as if you could come undone at any moment as the wet noises seem to echo through the blowing breeze.

You feel your walls start to clench up as he quickens his pace of his fingers inside you, licking long stripes up your core as you moan out his name again and again and again. You’re so close, so close to spilling yourself all over him as you tighten your fingers through his curls and arch your back off the matte blue mushroom.

“C’mon, baby. Come for me. Let me see you let go,” he coaxes as he presses against your spongy walls and pulls your clit into his mouth as he sucks you deep. That’s what does it for you.

“Fuck, Joel. I… I’m coming,” you moan as you feel your walls clench up one more time and then release, white hot liquid spilling down as he laps you up nice and slow.

Your vision goes black as you tilt your head to the sky and let your body ease into a relaxed state as you come down from your orgasm. You feel your breath come in rapid waves as you fight for air to build back in your lungs, your core still on fire for Joel as he laps up all your slick in between your legs.

He stands tall as his large body leans over you, your legs straddling around him as he stands in between your thighs. Your slick glistens on his patchy scruff and mustache, and it makes you that much wetter as your eyes trail over his ravenous features.

“Did so good, baby. So good,” he praises as he brings one hand to caress your cheek affectionately, making you tingle all over at the fondness of the touch.

“That was… that was incredible,” you gasp out as he smirks down at you, the warm flecks of his eyes shining down on you like a golden ray of sunshine.

Warm. He’s so warm.

“Glad I could indulge in your fantasies,” he chuckles as he brings his hand back down your side, his fingers tracing delicately down your hip as he makes his way over your thigh, slowly trailing up and down in slow motions.

“You’re gonna give me another one,” he smirks, his pupils expanding into black pits as he brushes against your sensitive folds.

“Another one? But I’m so sensitive, Joel. I don’t know if I can…” you whine, panting between breaths as you think about him giving you another mind blowing orgasm.

“Oh, trust me. You can and you will,” he growls between his teeth as he starts to move his fingers up and down your folds again, starting a fire down in the pits of your core. “Tell me yes, sweetheart. Tell me it’s okay.”

Your mind fogs over as you nod your head and whisper out, “Okay. Okay.”

“You trust me?” he asks with a cocked brow, his fingers slowly gliding up and down your center, already building slick against his thick fingers.

“I trust you,” you nod, biting your lip as you hold back a moan.

“Yeah ya do,” he smirks. “Don’t hold back now, baby. Wanna hear those loud moans.”

He presses his calloused fingers deeper against your center, spreading your folds as he starts to circle his slick coated fingers against your puffy clit. He spits down again on your pussy and gathers the spit on his fingers, making you more soaked as you hear the sticky, wet sounds of thick fingers against drenched skin.

He hovers over you, leaning against his arm as he stares intensely down at you with those big black pits of his. Your mouth drops open as he flicks against your clit faster, faster, faster until your eyes start to roll back as you feel the blood rushing between your legs.

“That’s a good girl,” he praises as you moan at the sweet words, nearly blacking out as the intense sensations wash over your entire body. You grab onto his flannel shirt as you fight for your life, your second orgasm so close to breaking that you feel like you’re about to lose control.

“C’mon, give it to me. Let me see you come again, baby,” he coos as he presses down harder onto your throbbing clit, his hand moving side to side faster and faster as you feel your back arch off the velvet mushroom.

It all happens so fast. You let the vibrations buzz through your body, starting at your head that slips slowly down your body as you curl your toes and roll your eyes back. You feel the hot heat start to slide out of you as you release for him, more come pouring out than last time as you feel the ecstasy encase your entire body.

“Oh, that’s a good fuckin’ girl. Goddamn,” he moans as he slows his fingers to gentle strokes and makes sure he works you through your orgasm entirely.

You lay there with half hooded eyes, your fingers still curled around his flannel as you slowly release and drop them down next to you. You feel satiated, satisfied, but yet you still want more.

When he starts to back away, you grab his wrist and prevent him from moving out of your range. “Wait, Joel. I need… want more,” you gasp out, your breath winded and tired as you fight to stay completely in one piece.

He knits his eyebrows together and turns your head to face him, his large fingers cupping your chin as he stares down at you with intense eyes. “You want more?” he asks softly.

“Yes, yes,” you whine out, almost embarrassed by how needy you sound.

He chuckles and shakes his head back and forth. “Think you can handle it, sweetheart? Not too tired?” he asks with a sly smirk as the crow’s feet pull at the corners of his eyes.

He’s so fucking perfect.

“Mm-mm,” you shake your head, your hand reaching for his flannel as he lets you grasp on to him.

“Alright, but you asked for it, darlin’. Gonna give ya what you need,” he smirks as he slowly unbuckles his leather belt, unzipping the zipper of his denim jeans as he slides them and his black briefs down, letting his leaking cock press against his soft tummy.

You gasp at how massive he is, the precum spilling over as you wonder what it tastes like, what it feels like inside you.

He crawls on top of your body, crowding your space as you feel overwhelmed by the smell of his woodsy, pine scent. It intoxicates you, drives you mad as you fist at his flannel shirt, desperate to get him as close as humanly possible without completely jumping into your skin.

“Joel,” you whine, pawing at the flannel material as you beg him to take you.

He cups your chin in his large palm and looks you deep in the eyes. “Relax, sweetheart. Let me give you what you need,” he coos.

He lines up with your entrance as he teases you, sliding the tip of his cock up and down your folds as he collects your slick and his spit, already starting a fire in your core as he brushes past your sensitive clit.

“Fuck,” you hiss as his teasing torments you.

“Mmm, that’s right, gorgeous. Gonna take ya now, gonna make all your worries disappear,” he whispers as he hooks your legs over his shoulders and slides his slippery cock inside you.

Your mind goes numb, your brain stilling as the air seems to shift colorfully around you. It’s like the clouds turn pink, misty blue as colors swirl around your vision, making it look like you’re inside a make believe dream. Ecstasy, blinding pleasure erupts through your body every time he ruts up deeper inside you. His cock thrusting, thrusting, thrusting, so deep that it hits that spot that has your ears ringing with white noise.

He gives, gives, gives himself to you, making you cry out with blissful moans as he bends your knees to your chest and fucks into you deeper, harder than before. The sensation builds, your third orgasm right on the edge every time he gives more of himself to you, ravaging you until you can barely take it anymore.

“You’re so fucking beautiful moaning my name, sweetheart. Squeezin’ me so tight,” he breathes out raggedly as sweat builds against his forehead, making his curls stick together as he breaks the distance and crashes his lips down on top of yours.

The kiss is hungry, needy, starving as your tongue collides with his; his hips rocking back and forth between yours. You taste yourself on him, let the salty, sweet flavor run down your glossy lips as your moans twist together in unison. A sweet melody that fills the air as you get lost in each other’s ecstasy.

He bottoms out in you, thrusting faster and faster until you’re on the verge of tears. You’re so sensitive, your body on the edge of spilling again as you hear the slick slap of skin on skin through the air.

“Joel, I’m gonna… I’m about to…” you cry out as a tear licks at the corner of your eye. You’re not going to last any longer.

“Come for me, baby. Let me feel you,” he coaxes against your lips, his forehead leaning on yours as he speeds up his thrusts. He hits your spongy spot one more time, and that has you clawing the back of his neck as your hands tangle in the hair at the scruff of his neck.

You clench up around his thick cock and then spill all over him, milky hot come leaking down your thighs as he groans against your lips as you echo a low moan back to him.

“Fuck, that’s a good girl,” he praises as he thrusts deeper, deeper, deeper until he’s bottom out time and time again. You’re on cloud nine as you feel his cock drive into you, feel your body go numb against his hold on you as you feel him start to lose control.

“Gonna-fuck, I’m gonna come. I’m gonna-” His mouth drops open and his eyebrows furrow together as he moans out your name, thick ropes of come painting your insides as your eyes roll back at the warm sensation.

He ruts up once more in you, spilling his entire seed as you both breathe in foggy, dense air. Arousal and the smell of sex envelop the wind, blowing down your body as you smell nothing but you and him mixing together to paint the skies red. He takes a minute of just keeping his cock inside you as he runs a hand down your cheek affectionately, warm eyes sinking into yours as his lips curl into the most beautiful smile you’ve ever seen.

“Did so good for me, my girl. So good,” he praises as he cups your cheek and plants a gentle kiss across your lips. You drink him down, wanting to remember how he tastes like honeysuckle and sugar cookies. He tastes like something you want to imprint in your memory.

When he releases, he slowly slides out of you. You moan at the loss of him, but he scoops you up in his arms when he lays flat on his back. He feels warm, secure, safe. He feels like someplace you want to stay forever. Your eyelids start to flutter closed, your body unable to stay awake any longer. You’re so tired, so worn out from the sex. You just need to rest a little, let your mind enter into the thick fog.

“Joel, I’m so tired,” you slur as your words start mixing together, your eyelids growing heavy against your eyes.

“Go to sleep, baby. I’ve got you. I’ve got you,” he hums out, his strong arms pulling you closer into his chest as you let your mind fade into the darkness. Your vision goes black as you fall asleep instantly, knowing you’re safe in Joel’s arms.

When you start to wake up from your nap, you smell the scent of fresh roses lingering in the air and hear the sounds of cheerful birds chirping in the distance. As you start to shift your body and start to flutter your eyes open, you feel movement underneath you. You feel the broad chest underneath you as he slowly breathes in and out, feeling how warm he is with your fingers tangled in his soft flannel.

When your eyes finally open, he smiles up as you as his fingers rake down your scalp. “There you are, darlin’. Was starting to wonder when you’d wake up. You were out for a couple hours,” he says with a deep, sleepy edge to his voice. He must’ve fallen asleep at some point, too.

You hum out against his chest, your chin laying on his chest as you look up at his warm eyes, those eyes that make you melt with longing. “You just wore me out so much that I couldn’t stay awake any longer. You really know how to get a girl to fall asleep, huh?” you ask with a smile widening on your face.

He laughs and hugs you tighter to him. “Just givin’ ya what you needed, sweetheart. Happy to oblige anytime,” he smirks as you laugh again and shake your head.

You relax against his body as his hand runs gently up and down your scalp, sending you into a trance-like state as you rest your hands under your chin and stare up at him. His eyes are so warm, the smile that’s curled at the corners of his mouth sending sparks down your body. He feels so familiar, like you’ve known him for much longer than a day.

Your eyebrows knit together as you study his features, tracing the lines on his forehead with your eyes as you look deep into those golden brown irises. And something like a flash of lightning hits your mind, a distant memory flashing before your eyes as you go wide-eyed. You do know him. You’ve seen him before. You’ve been here before.

“You… this isn’t the first time I’ve seen you before, is it?” you whisper as your throat runs dry. “I’ve been here before, haven’t I?” You know him. You know him.

He sighs, a held in breath leaving his lips as he smiles affectionately at you. “Yes. You’ve been here before, sweetheart. This isn’t the first time.” It’s like all the weight is emptied from his body as his face relaxes and his chest feels less tense now.

“I knew you all along…” you whisper out incredulously.

“You did, baby. Welcome back. Didn’t know if you’d ever find your way again,” he says sadly as his eye color changes to a somber brown.

“But how did I… how did I even get here?”

“You were drowning, sweetheart. You needed an escape. You unlocked the door. You found us again. We’ve been waiting so long, so very long,” he whispers as he hooks a loose curl behind your ear, his eyes slipping into yours as he rests his forehead on yours, a form of intimacy that feels like home. He feels like home.

You lay there breathing each other’s air like oxygen, your lips tangling against each other as you lap up his honeysuckle taste, burning the taste into your memory as if it’s the most important thing in the world.

After a few minutes of getting lost in each other, he helps you up as you stand firm against the lush green grass. He helps you slide the lace panties back into place, covering your sticky center as you fall back into his chest, wrapping your arms around his broad back.

You hear a faint buzzing a few feet away from you, the sound like white noise in your ears. When you turn, you see an open doorway as painted red roses spill over the dark entryway. Your eyebrows crease together as you look at it carefully. It’s calling to you, almost like it wants you to follow.

Joel sighs, a defeated sound rasping from his throat as he looks at you with sad eyes. “Think it’s time for you to go back, sweetheart,” he huffs, his calloused fingers twisting around yours as he holds you close.

“Go back? But I just got here,” you say with wide eyes, feeling your stomach drop as you take in the meaning of his words.

“I know, darlin’, I know.” His face contorts with agony, his eyes on the verge of falling apart, but he puts himself back together as he cups your chin. “You’re needed back at the party. They’re waiting for you,” he says as you hear the distant noise of champagne glasses and classic music floating through the air. The party, it was still happening?

“But I’ve been here for hours, how is it still going on?” you ask with your nose scrunched up in question.

“Time is different here, it moves slower, much slower than the outside world,” he says as his honey eyes flick to the open door. “Wonderland moves on its own time. Funny thing isn’t it? How time works.”

“Yeah, very strange,” you say with your words drifting off as you stare at the door. The door that’ll take you back to reality, to a place you don’t want to go back to.

He sees your distant glance and pulls your face back to him as he looks distinctly into your glistening eyes. “You need to go back, baby. Go finish the party.” He’s telling you that you need to go, but his hollow words are drifting into the void. He doesn’t want you to go, not really.

“But what if I don’t want to go back…” you say quietly with a locked jaw, tears pricking at the backs of your eyes.

Let me stay. Please, let me stay.

“The door is open, sweetheart. It won’t close again till you go through,” he says with a pained expression, his calloused fingers burning your skin as he glides his fingers over your jawline delicately.

You nod your head slowly, telling him you understand. Your eyes wade into the painted door, but your eyes snap back up to his. “What if I want to come back? How do I come back?”

He smiles down at you as he pulls a chain out of his back pocket, a glistening necklace shining brightly in the sun as he opens up your palm and closes your fingers over it. “With this. This is the key that opens Wonderland. It’s yours now. Anytime you want to come back, all you have to do is ask. Think of me, think of Wonderland and hold the key. The door will open for you. All you have to do is ask.”

You open your palm and trace the edges of the golden key with your fingers, letting the cool metal stain your skin as you see the intricate letters carved into the gold. Wonderland is written in cursive letters on the side as they reflect against the sunlight. Wonderland. The key that’ll take you back to wildflowers, twisting paths, and Joel.

He takes the necklace from your open palm and unlatches it as he circles behind you and places the necklace against your chest. “Hair up for me, sweetheart,” he asks as you quickly oblige. You lift your hair and let him latch the necklace into place as the cool metal key sears into your skin. You lift the key and smile, your whole world now in your hands.

He steps in front of you and cups your chin, letting his thumb trace your bottom lip as his eyes sink deep into your own. “Well, I guess this is goodbye, for now,” you say sadly as you let your hand linger on his flannel, hoping you can stay like this forever instead of going back to your boring dinner party.

“Hey,” he says as he brings your face closer to his, leveling his eyes with yours, “this isn’t goodbye, sweetheart. Not even close.” He leans down and kisses you deeply as you latch onto his flannel, promising yourself that you’ll be back. This isn’t goodbye, it couldn’t be.

He releases your lips and walks you to the door. As you look in, you see the long, lit up hallway that you came from earlier. You can hear the music, hear the muffled voices down the hall as you see fluorescent lights from the ballroom. This was it, you had to go.

Before you step through, Joel grabs your wrist and turns you around to face him. “I had the most perfect day with you, sweetheart. I can’t wait to see those beautiful eyes of yours again,” he says with a curled smile on his lips.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You run your fingers through his tousled curls and hold his gaze just a little longer, memorizing every single golden fleck in his irises as you take in his chocolate eyes. “Thank you for showing me Wonderland again. I can’t believe I forgot. How could I have forgotten you,” you say wide-eyed. You’d never forget him, how did you forget in the first place when he was your favorite thing in the entire world.

“Guess you got lost in the outside world. I’m so glad you found your way back to me, my love.”

My love. The words crash into you like a colliding car crash, hitting your insides with those familiar words that sound like music to your ears. My love.

Before you can question his words, he kisses you gently on the forehead and shoves you through the door as it closes behind you. You end up back in the long hallway as the sound of faded music seeps down the corridor. When you turn back around, there’s no door, only the painted white wall that burns into your eyes. You sigh and turn back around.

When you turn, your breath hitches. In the center of the hanging mirror with gold coated around the winding edges, you see Joel staring back at you. Your eyes widen as you walk up to the clear mirror. He looks like he’s standing right there, as if you can reach him with your mind.

You reach your arm up and place your palm flat against the glass, his hand mirroring yours as you wish with all your might you could just feel his calloused fingers again pressed against your skin. You can’t feel him through the mirror though, he’s only a reflection in the glass that you so want to slip into.

He gives you a small smile as nods his head in the direction of the party. You turn toward the end of the hall, your eyes flicking toward the crowded room as you hear laughs and loud voices carry down the corridor. When you look back to the mirror, you only see your reflection. Joel’s gone. You hold back a tear as you sigh out heavily and turn back around. You guess you have to go back in there.

When you turn from the mirror and start to head down the hall, you gasp as you see a small blue butterfly fluttering its wings on the back of your hand. You take a closer look and go wide-eyed.

“Absolem?” you ask. You see what looks to be a gleam in his eye as he suddenly flies off and disappears into a dark corner of the room. You smile, feeling your insides calm down a bit as a piece of Wonderland slips into the real world. It’s a sign, a promise that you will be back to Wonderland.

You head down the long hallway as your click of your heels echo down the corridor, keeping your wide grin stretched across your face. When you turn into the sea of jewel cladded necks and pressed suits, you can’t help but think of painted roses and honey brown eyes. And it’s then you know you can get through the rest of the evening because you went to Wonderland. Your escape, your dream, your sanctuary.

Wonderland. You’d be back, you just know it.

When you walk back into your cozy apartment and shut the door, you flick on the dim lights and start to walk to your room. You play with the golden key that’s latched around your neck, tracing the smooth edges as your thumb glides across the word Wonderland.

Wonderland. God, you wish you could go back right now. You want to, you need to.

Suddenly, a thousand feelings crash into you all at once. It’s like you get struck by lightning, zapping your brain into a dense fog as if you suddenly wake up from a deep sleep. You remember, you remember it all.

You close your eyes and the vivid pictures paint your mind. You can see you and Joel back in Wonderland painting pictures by the pond, can see yourself tumbling in the wildflowers with him, can taste his sugar coated lips after he fed you a piece of cake, can smell the rose scented air as he told you he loved you that first time in a bed of white and crimson red roses. It wasn’t all a dream. It was real, he is real.

Joel, your love. How could you forget?

When you open your eyes, you jump as you see exactly what you were pining for all evening. Joel. Joel’s leaning against your cream colored walls, his arms crossed over his chest as he smirks up at you with those honey glazed eyes that you can’t get enough of.

“Joel?” you breathe out, your voice cracking as you can’t believe he’s in your room at this very moment.

“Miss me already, darlin’?” he chuckles, his lips coated in warmth as the door to Wonderland stands wide open behind him, different shades of roses and flying butterflies leaking into your dimly lit bedroom.

“How are you here?” you ask amazed as your eyes go wide.

He’s here. He’s here.

“You were calling to me,” he says as he nods to your key hooked around your neck that your finger is still sliding against. “You haven’t even been gone a couple of hours, baby. You missed me that much?” he teases as his laugh fills the room.

“Yes.” You let the key fall back against your chest and run over to him, slamming your body against him as you wrap your arms around him.

“I remember, Joel. I remember it all,” you say out of breath as a tear falls down your cheek. “How could I forget. How could I fucking forget?” you ask wildly as another hot tear runs down your face. You feel his calloused thumb wipe the tears away as he lifts your face up to his.

“It’s alright, baby. It’s all okay now. You just got lost inside the chaos of the outside world. I’m so happy you made it back, my love. I’ve missed you so so much,” he coos as he pulls you into his chest and runs a hand soothingly up and down your back, calming the storm that swirled inside you just seconds ago.

“Take me home,” you beg as you run your fingers through the edge of his scruff, causing him to groan in response.

“C’mon, sweetheart. Let’s go home.” He grabs your hand and pulls you through the wide open door, watching it close tightly behind you as it locks in place and disappears behind a bed of painted white roses.

Joel smiles and pulls you to his chest as he hooks his hands around your hips. “Sweetheart,” he coos as he gently cups the sides of your face and brings his forehead down against yours, “please tell me you’re never leaving again. Stay, stay with me. Stay in Wonderland where you belong. We’ve all missed you so much, but especially me. I’ve waited for your return for so long. I can’t bear to lose you again.”

You smile up at him as you brush your lips over his, breathing in his honeysuckle taste as you nod your head slowly. “I’m never leaving again. Never ever. I’m staying here with the white rabbit, with the Cheshire Cat, with everyone. But most importantly I’m staying with you, my love.” You echo his words of my love back to him as he smiles down at you.

“Welcome home, my love. I’m never letting you go again.”

He crashes his lips down to yours as you melt into his touch, his taste, his scent. You feel the warm air encase you as you get lost in him, in all of him. And you know now that this is where you belong. You belong in Wonderland with Joel.

And so you begin your lifetime full of adventures with the best way you know possible, getting lost in Joel, in your favorite Wonderland.

Tags in case you want to read 🩷: @littlevenicebitch69 @lotusbxtch @keylimebeag @blueseastorm @akah565 @r3dheadedwitch @laurrrra @burntheedges @msjarvis @dugiioh @pedrostories @vee-bees-blog @forgetmenotsexy @copiasghoulfriend @vividispunk @strawberri-blonde @thischarmingmandalorian @sawymredfox @reddedmiller @tuquoquebrute @joelalorian @ozarkthedog @casa-boiardi @morallyinept @kirsteng42 @amyispxnk

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fashionseenontvblog · 2 years

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02x11

Lavish Alice One-Shoulder Jumpsuit Black - $150

Banana Republic Suede Bare High-Heel Sandal Black - $103

Nina Feather Flap Clutch - $78

#j. l. a.#vicky lewis #lavish alice #nina

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the-desilittle-bird · 9 months

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AN- Another preference guys!!! Also, I have an angsty Daemon oneshot based on Tere Liye song in my drafts...

Requests are always open and well appreciated.

Thank you and Enjoy your reading!

HOTD Preference

Being in an Arranged Marriage

Characters- Daemon Targaryen, Aemond Targaryen, Otto Hightower, Corlys Velaryon, Cregan Stark & Criston Cole

Warnings- Westrosi Shenanigans

Daemon 'Rogue Prince' Targaryen

You are an honorable lady of one of the Great Houses of Westeros. And after Lady Rhea Royce dies mysteriously, your father plotted to marry you into a marriage with the Rogue Prince.

You had met him a few times earlier, and you were less than impressed with his... antics.

You swore you would have ran if you weren't devoted to your father and his life's work in order to make a beautiful legacy for your family (sounds Lannister-ish).

You had controlled the urge to laugh during the entirety of the feast hosted to honour your betrothal with the prince.

Daemon's face resembled that of a pouty kid who was denied something he needed. While on the other hand, Viserys was gleaming with happiness as he congratulated the "beautiful pair".

The wedding was lavish, much to both your and your husband's dismay. And while you covered your dismay with grace; his remained bad.

He was partially dragged to the sept by his brother.

Marriage with him can go two ways.

Either you become another bronze bitch for him.

Or you impress him with your charms and he ends up being completely enamored by you.

If you try to reject his advances; he will never quit making them.

And when you accept his devotion, he will be the happiest man in Westeros.

Aemond 'One-Eyed' Targaryen

He marries you on his mother's demand.

Very formal and stoic. Will reward you with only a hand on your back in extreme situations.

Aegon teasing him about the upcoming bedding after your wedding.

Also offering you an opportunity to approach him if Aemond doesn't suffices you.

"My lady, you know where to find me if my brother can't suffice your womanly desires in bed."

You in reply, had smiled sarcastically and said, "it won't be required."

The boy's ego was wounded.

While Aemond was downright impressed by your courage.

It starts slow with him.

And takes a loooooong while before he shows you his left eye; bared of the eyepatch he wears.

You had a hard start; worse than that of possible.

But he starts seeing you as family after Helaena softens up with you and you spend time with his niece and nephew. Alicent also likes you.

He would never compliment you directly or profess his love in words. But his actions speak louder than anything else.

Otto 'Hand of the King' Hightower

You are his second wife. And not really a recipient of his love and care.

Purely political marriage with both your and his house benefiting in some way; all while you were being prepared to be a man's second wife.

You learnt quickly how you shall always been seen as a shadow of his wife. And you were actually happy with it.

Both of you shall perform your duties to one another, but that would be it.

No speaking until necessary.

His children not liking you at first; but once you start to open up with them, they come to tolerate your presence.

The first real conversation you two have is after you find Alicent crying in her room, reminiscing the happy family they used to be before her mother perished.

You had barged into his office, demanding to know when was the last time he spoke to his daughter.

And you fought for hours. Until you broke down into tears as your patience ran thin.

"YOU DO NOT CARE OF ANYONE AROUND YOU, BUT YOURSELF! Not Alicent, not your sons, not the king... not me."

He saw you in new light that day. Someone who was ready to fight for his family.

And he starts engaging you in conversations at feast.

And honestly, you like it. Being noticed by your husband who only saw you as a trophy before.

Corlys ‘Sea Snake’ Velaryon

Your father was the most important merchant in Essos; and you were his precious little daughter.

You met Corlys for the first time after his negotiations with your father.

When your father tells you that you shall be married to the Sea Snake to assure the new alliance’s birth and growth.

You were extremely angry. And hurt.

Your marriage to him was anything but modest; and took place in Driftmark.

You could feel the unease radiating off the lords and the King as they congratulated you and your new husband.

Unfortunate for you, your father skipped the part of him being a widower and having kids close to your age.

And you were furious. Very. Very. Furious.

You kicked and screamed; creating a scene behind the closed doors while your new family and your family was present.

Tensed with anger and disappointment burning deep in your chest, you find yourself roaming the beach as the sun raced towards the horizon.

You hadn't expected the man, your new husband, to come for you. But he did.

And you talked, deciding a few terms for easy marriage life.

Cregan 'Wolf of the North' Stark

You were from the West; betrothed to him after his first wife passes during childbirth, leaving him with a son, alone.

And so, your father decides that you should become his second wife and mother to his barely a year old son.

Your betrothal is officiated on letters. No formal meeting. No courting.

You were sent to the North before a fortnight from your wedding.

You arrived to be greeted by Sara Snow, since you cannot see Cregan before your wedding, as per traditions.

You have a wedding in the customs of North.

And then a smaller wedding with only close people around in the small Sept in Winterfell, where you are wedded in your traditions.

The feast following was loud and warm with wine flowing the cups and fire blazing in the backdrop.

When you were asked to share your first dance as a couple, your very first dance anyway; you hesitated as you accompanied him.

But everything went very very smoothly.

And then was the time of bedding ceremony. And Gods! Were you overjoyed when Cregan defended your honor and downright canceled the ceremony.

"Anyone who shall dare touch my bride shall spend his life without any further children. I and my wife are perfectly able to find our way to our chambers."

That night, there was no bedding. But you spent the time conversing while Rickon Stark slept against your bosom, peacefully.

Criston 'Kingmaker' Cole

Since he is the part of King's Guard, he can't marry anyone. But after he takes on the position of Hand of the King to King Aegon II and Prince Regent Aemond, that's a different story.

He arrives at your father's holdstead with a handwritten letter from the Queen Dowager Alicent, asking for your father's allegiance to the Greens.

But your father was no fool.

You were his eldest; first of the four sisters.

And so, he asks for a betrothal in exchange.

But with Aegon already married and Aemond betrothed to marry and Daeron too young for you, he asks Criston to marry you.

And with his undying loyalty to Alicent and Greens, he does.

The ceremony is small and not flashing, with only Aemond and your family present.

There was no feast. Just a close dinner between family.

You were scared... terrified actually.

But the Hand of the King reassured you that he will do nothing you don't wish for, and instead of consummating the marriage, he falls asleep; on the floor.

And you realize that maybe, he isn't as bad as you have heard of him.

#house of the dragon #house of the dragon preferences #hotd preferences #daemon targaryen headcanon #aemond targaryen headcanons #otto hightower x reader #corlys velaryon x reader #daemon targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #cregan stark x reader #criston cole x reader #house targaryen #hotd headcanon

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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 9 months

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Careless Words

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x nameless female character (third person perspective) Warnings: Angst. Toxic/abusive relationship dynamics. Mentions of death. Allusions to smut. Word count: ~2.8k

Summary: She has always given her best to Aemond, but they both know he can't say the same. Based on this request.

Author's note: I wanted to explore the darker side of Aemond's personality and how this might manifest itself in a relationship where neither party is particularly healthy in terms of their mindset. This was a cathartic piece for me to write. Lately I've been working through some resurfaced feelings linked to a past relationship that was based entirely around trauma bonding. It may be a triggering read for some, so please approach with caution (and try to remember the story itself is a work of fiction). No gods, no masters, no tag lists. Community labels are for cops. Please block me instead of labelling this, if you find yourself tempted.

Family, Duty, Honor; that is the motto of House Tully, a direct opposition of House Targaryen’s Fire and Blood. If she wasn’t so duty bound to Prince Aemond then she’d find the strength to walk away. If he was a better man he’d let her go. Unfortunately for her, nothing in a dragon’s clutches escapes without getting burned.

She is eight years old when she is sent from Riverrun to King’s Landing. She is to be a ward of House Targaryen, an idea that excites and frightens her in equal measure; she has never been away from her family before and the thought of living in a strange city with people she has never met fills her with uncertainty, yet she is eager for the adventures it will bring.

Her fears are assuaged the moment she arrives in the capital. The sprawling expanse of the city beckons her to explore its winding cobbled streets, the Red Keep is a maze of undiscovered secrets. Naturally curious, she gravitates towards Queen Alicent’s second son, Aemond. He is a quiet, sullen boy, not much older than her, and spends most of his time alone, reading. It is more than apparent to her that he does not get along with his older brother and nephews, and his sister is too lost in her own world to be of any comfort to him.

Aemond clings to her offer of friendship, and the two quickly become inseparable. She basks in the attention he lavishes upon her; sharing his books, learning High Valyrian under his tutelage, dutifully spectating for each of his training sessions in the yard, and accompanying him on his daily visits to the dragonpit - he has yet to claim a dragon, which serves to deepen his fascination of the creatures and drives him to near obsession with desire to have his own.

Aemond becomes the center of her world, a position which he appears to thrive on. The first time he threatens to take that away from her is on a day that they visit the dragonpit.

Aegon has lured him there on the pretense that the dragon keepers have discovered an unclaimed mount for him. However, he is humiliated when a pig is led out from the shadows, and he flees, distraught, back to his mother.

He lashes out at her that day, for the first time, when she attempts to comfort him.

“You will have a dragon one day,” She tries to tell him. “Ignore their silly jokes, it doesn’t matter.”

He looks at her with fury in his eyes and she shrinks fearfully away from him. His tone is vile, hateful. “It doesn’t matter to you, because you don’t understand how important dragons are to Targaryens. You are a nobody!”

She weeps bitterly when he storms away from her, it feels like she has lost her only friend in the world. She believes she has trivialised Aemond’s suffering and is ashamed of herself.

When he approaches her the next day, with lemon cakes, a book and a soft “I didn’t mean it”, she is so overjoyed to have Aemond’s attention once more that it doesn’t even occur to her that he hasn’t uttered the word “sorry”, she has him back and that is all that matters. And for a few days afterwards, he treats her with such reverence that she feels foolish for having been upset in the first place.

Aemond is ten when he loses his eye, and he puts on a brave face, though she is certain it is for the benefit of not further upsetting his mother and appearing weak in front of his nephews.

She is proven right the moment they are alone and he turns on her. She wants to support him, to show him she is unafraid of him despite the stitches that now adorn the bloodied ruin where his left eye used to be, but he will not allow that.

“Where were you?!” He shouts at her. “If you’d have been there for me, I’d still have my eye!”

She wants to argue that she could not possibly have known he was going to claim Vhagar, how could she have been there for him when everyone was supposed to be in bed? But the guilt his words inspire eclipse all rationality in her innocent, young mind. She ought to have anticipated him going after a riderless dragon, and been there to help defend him against the attack from his nephews and cousins.

“I’m sorry, Aemond, I’m so sorry.” She cries.

“Sorry will not bring back what I have lost,” He spits angrily. “No matter. I have my dragon now, I do not need you.”

He is lost to her once more, and heartache colours her world where Aemond’s presence used to.

“I didn’t mean it,” He tells her sheepishly, a few days later. “When I am healed, I will take you for a ride on dragonback.”

She does not need an apology, Aemond’s attention and willingness to share something so personal with her are more than enough. For a week after that he makes her feel as though she is the very stars in the night sky, and she basks in his good graces.

On Aemond’s thirteenth name day, she is excited to give him his gift. For weeks she has toiled in secret on a patch for him to cover the scarred side of his face. It is made of delicate black leather and has an intricate green dragon stitched carefully into the fabric.

She searches for Aemond most of the day and cannot find him. When he does eventually make an appearance he is distant and distracted, not even uttering thanks when she presents him with the patch she has made for him.

“Aegon took me to a pleasure house.” He says morosely, when she asks what’s wrong.

“Oh,” She has trouble hiding the disgust on her face, as she feels sour jealousy spread its way through her. “Why?”

He scowls upon seeing her look of judgment. “Because I grew tired of looking at your ugly face!” He snaps, before storming off.

Her self worth shatters with those words, scattered away on the winds of Aemond’s temper, and yet again she is left to wait for his careless words to become kind, while she grieves his temporary absence.

I did not mean it. And so she forgives him, piecing herself back together with every praise and doting look he offers her. She cares not that he never wears her gift or thanks her for it, it does not matter that he doesn’t say he’s sorry, because when Aemond is kind to her she feels as though she has ascended to the very heavens above.

It is an addictive cycle, and as the years press on, she finds herself craving Aemond’s tempestuous nature in moments of calm, for the love he showers her with afterwards is her only means of reassuring herself that he truly cares for her.

Aemond grows bolder in his mistreatment of her, confident that she is too attached to him to be disloyal. She is one of the few things in his life that he is able to assert full control over and he wields it without a second thought.

Shortly after her sixteenth name day, Aegon attempts to force himself on her. She fights him off and seeks comfort in the only person she can trust; Aemond. Where she expects to find sympathy, however, she is met with scorn and rage-filled jealousy.

“If you did not behave like a whore then Aegon would not do such things. Do you enjoy the attention?”

She shuts herself away in her chambers, the ache in her chest unbearable as her tears soak her pillow.

While Aemond would usually leave it a day or two before seeking her out again, he comes back to her that same evening, telling her he did not mean it as he holds her in his arms. He takes her maidenhead that night, the sharp stinging between her legs, as he pushes forcefully inside of her, soothed by his whisper of “aōhon iksan se ñuhon iksā”. I am yours and you are mine.

As their relationship blossoms into something more romantic, their rifts become more frequent. Aemond always seems to know precisely the combination of words it will take to cut her deepest, yet it is a state she has grown to feel safe in. The blood of the dragon pumps hotly in his veins and as frequently as he inflicts this side of himself upon her, it is always followed by a softness that allows her to believe that he loves her, even if they are words he never says aloud.

When Aemond’s nephews return to King’s Landing his moods become trickier for her to predict. It seems impossible for her not to anger him, and his words are poison to her fragile heart. Yet it always devolves into him assuring her he did not mean it as he fucks her into the mattress, healing every spiteful barb with impassioned touches.

Shortly after King Viserys dies, Aegon is crowned, and everything changes for the worse. His succession is challenged by Viserys’ eldest child, Rhaenyra, and steps must be put into place to secure Aegon’s reign. Aemond is a useful pawn in that process, and his grandsire, Otto, wastes no time in arranging a visit for him to Storm’s End in order to choose which of Lord Borros Baratheon’s daughters he wishes to marry.

Aemond is so matter of fact as he explains this to her, but she feels as though she reacts enough for both of them, struggling to breath as a free falling sensation in the pit of her stomach sends waves of nausea rippling through her.

She knows she is fighting a losing battle before she even opens her mouth to speak, yet she cannot help herself. She is a moth and Aemond is her flame, ever bright and eternal, the very center around which her entire world revolves. Nothing has ever seemed so final though, what pieces will there be to pick up and place back together once he is someone else’s husband?

Standing before him, she juts out her chin defiantly, willing herself not to cry in spite of the lump in her throat and the insistent stinging around the rims of her eyes. “You’re really going to go through with this?”

He sets his jaw, sighing, a visible dismissal of her feelings that makes her ache and wish she had the courage to simply walk away from him. “Don’t ask questions you already know the answer to.”

“What will become of me, of us?” She asks, her voice raising an octave, threatening to crack.

“That is inconsequential in the grand scheme of things. My brother’s succession takes precedence over everything. Marrying one of Lord Baratheon’s daughters helps strengthen his claim to the throne. Listening to your heedless fretting does not.”

She feels heat rise to her cheeks, swallowing back her anguish, attempting to sound fiercer than she feels. “Perhaps I shall decide to marry too then.”

Aemond’s scoff is so subtle it’s almost imperceptible. “Who would marry you? Your virtue is mine, always has been. You’re fortunate I still desire you.”

His tone of voice is so practical, only the slightest hint of irritation giving it an edge. He may as well be addressing a chambermaid who has not made his bed to his liking. She longs to grab him, shake him, beg him to give her any sort of indication that this is hurting him as much as it’s hurting her, because to think that he’d let her go so easily, after all these years, is more than she can stand.

Instead she says nothing, simply watches as he turns to leave, counting down the moments until he returns to her, his words sweet once more and eager to heal the rift between them, just like he always does. She craves the storm and the calm in equal measure, but they are always on Aemond’s terms, never hers.

Three nights later she awakens to him standing at the foot of her bed, dripping wet, eye filled with fear. She takes him into the sheets, fingers carding through his damp hair as he ruts his misery inside of her.

“It was an accident,” He whispers to her tearfully afterwards. “I only meant to scare Lucerys.”

She soothes him to sleep, knowing she ought to feel repulsed by what Aemond has done, but is overwhelmed by the relief of him being just hers once more.

Confusion addles her thoughts the next day when she overhears Aemond tell Otto that he had meant to kill his nephew.

When she asks him about it in private he grips the tops of her arms with such force that she yelps from the pain of it, his face almost murderous with rage as he stares at her. “If you ever utter those words again, I will have your tongue cut out.”

Aemond’s temper has always been fierce, a trait of his that she is forever wary of, however, until now she has never felt afraid of him. At this very moment, Aemond frightens her. He has the capacity to cause her harm, and does not seem to care if he does.

Later he presses featherlight kisses to each of the vivid purple bruises that mark her upper arms. Though he appears remorseful, he does not offer an apology or even an utterance of “I did not mean it.”

“You must not anger me like that again,” He tells her instead.

She simply nods, dread boring a void into the pit of her stomach.

As the war escalates, resulting in the death of Aegon and Helaena’s son, Jaehaerys, and the grievous injury of Aegon, Aemond takes up the mantle of Prince Regent. While Aemond bears the burden of the additional responsibility, she bears the onslaught of his frustrations, becoming a vessel into which he pours his every grievance. The adoration he showers her with after each display of cruelty becomes infrequent to the point that she feels as though she is a hound begging for scraps. Eventually she learns to accept his ire, reasoning he would simply cast her aside and ignore her if he did not care for her.

She is delighted when Aemond insists upon bringing her along to his march upon Harrenhal. She allows herself to believe that his desire to have her at his side is because he is committed to her, that perhaps this means he intends to marry her once the war is over. A voice in the back of her mind reasons it is most likely because he enjoys the control he asserts over her, but she does her best to ignore it.

Jealousy swirls sharply in her gut when she sees the only person that Aemond has spared in his seizing of the castle - a witch named Alys Rivers, a raven haired beauty who he informs her will be of great use to him in helping him to defeat his Uncle Daemon. She swallows down her doubts, attempting to reassure herself that she has nothing to worry about, Aemond has never strayed from her before, why would he now?

She curses herself for ignoring her suspicions when she catches him between the witch’s thighs. She expects herself to grieve, to scream, to cry, to shatter to pieces at his infidelity, but instead a sense of clarity washes over her. For the first time in a decade she wishes to leave Aemond.

No longer does she crave his approval, or long to make amends, a veil has been lifted and finally she sees him for the selfish, spoiled and callous hearted man he truly is. He will never love her, not as she deserves, and she is making a fool of herself to stay by his side while he is openly disrespectful of her and her feelings.

His eye darkens with familiar ill intent when she informs him of her plan to return home.

“Do not be so foolish,” He says condescendingly. “You are behaving irrationally over a minor indiscretion.”

She shakes her head. “I believe this is the first time since I’ve known you that I’ve behaved with any sense at all. I am leaving.”

“Ñuhon iksā,” He tells her. His tone carries none of the soft, loving intent it usually does when he utters this statement, now it is dark and threatening. You are mine.

“Dōre iksan,” She replies simply. I am not.

“You cannot exist without me,” He says with a scowl.

“Watch me,” She counters.

It is not until a few days later, once she has returned home to her family, that the full weight of Aemond’s words begin to sink in. As the wings of Vhagar darken the skies above the Riverlands, she realises that he does not mean he thinks she can’t exist without him, it is that he will not allow her to.

She watches in tense horror as the fiery blaze engulfs her homeland, acrid smoke drawing ever nearer as Aemond’s dragon immolates houses, farmland and forests alike. If he were a better man he’d simply have let her go. Unfortunately for her, nothing in a dragon’s clutches escapes without getting burned.

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