#ray of f**king sunshine

[hitchell-mope]

He screwed the demon that’s hunting your family.

#locke & key #tyler locke #ray of f**king sunshine

[katiexpunk]

Desert Dust | Joel Miller's POV

Summary: The last place Joel Miller expected to find himself at this point in his life was in a small highway town in Arizona, passing the days by. He never really though he needed more -- until he met you.

Warnings: This is Joel's POV from Desert Dust. Yeah, if you thought he was a consent king in the original, this just further proves it. Tommy comes with his own cheeky warning. No age gap mentioned (make it your own), but Joel mentions feeling old. Joel Miller has a bad back (it's canon). Self-deprecation. Attempted assault (not by Joel)/nothing too graphic (please be responsible about what you consume). Joel beats up a bad guy., and like actually kinda wants to kill him for trying to hurt you. References to blood and first aid. Alcohol. Pet names. Flirting/slow burn. Inexperienced reader. Body hair. References to taste of vagina. Smoking/cigarettes (it's bad, don't do it). Oral (f receiving). Praise kink. Rough sex. Sex on a desk. Just a really passionate, filthy fuck. Creampie (shocker, I know). No use of Y/N, no use of daddy. TLOU au. Reader has no physical descriptions apart from female anatomy.

W/C: ~8K

A/N: Thank you for all of the love on Desert Dust. Nobody asked for this, but I couldn't get Joel's POV outta my head, so I hope you enjoy a little deep dive into what Joel was thinking when he first walked into that restaurant. Your honor, they're in love. Masterlist | Read on AO3 | Notifications

Did you ever see a robin weep When leaves begin to die? Like me, he's lost the will to live I'm so lonesome I could cry

The timbre of Hank Williams’ voice fills the truck's cab as Joel drives. It’s early, the sky is just beginning to transition from a deep midnight blue to a gradient of warm orange as the sun gradually emerges. While Joel likes to think of himself as a morning person, his back has other opinions on the matter. It’s to be expected, though, that’s what nearly 30 years of hard labor will do to a man.

The warmth of the thermos in between his thighs contrasts with the chilly morning air pouring in through the cracked window. Smoke dances lazily around his broad frame, a burning cigarette clenched between his calloused fingers. He greedily draws long drags, knowing it’ll be hours before he can have another one. He should quit, he knows he should quit. The half-used pack of Nicorette gum that sits in his cupholder in front of him is proof of that. 

But like picking at a scab or peeling the skin of a sunburn, sometimes we all do things we know we shouldn’t, things that make us feel good, if only for just a minute or two. 

In truth, there isn’t a lot that makes him feel good anymore. Jesus, when did he turn into such a grumpy old man? Probably sometime between Sarah going to college, and Tommy convincing him to take this contract job in the middle of fuck all nowhere.

The silence of a falling star Lights up a purple sky And as I wonder where you are I'm so lone–

Williams’ voice falls silent as Joel turns off the truck, having pulled into the work site. He snubs out the cigarette into the ashtray in the middle of the dash and grabs his jacket, a clipboard, and safety helmet. 

“Another day, another dollar,” he mutters to himself, pulling the handle on the driver's side door. The ground crunches below him, his boots are so dusty he doesn’t think he’ll ever get them clean again. God damn desert dust. He shakes his head and walks to the white trailer in front of him, unsure of why he’s so frustrated in the first place.

“Well aren’t you a ray of fucking sunshine this morning,” Tommy says, responding to the quick snap of the door after Joel enters their makeshift office. 

“Don’t,” Joel bites back.

“What’s got your panties in a twist this morning, princess?” Tommy chides, sitting behind a wooden desk covered in blueprints and safety checklists. 

“This really the way you want to start the day, Tommy?” Joel says, voice low and even, masking his emotions. “Just, get to work.” 

He rounds around to the desk opposite Tommy’s and places everything down. The ripped chair lets out a little puff of air under his weight as he sits. 

Tommy, of course, knows what’s eating at Joel. He needs to get fucking laid. 

Tommy can’t even remember the last time he saw Joel with a woman it’s been so long. He was always so focused on Sarah, or growing the company, that he always put himself last. He’s tried to set Joel up on dates, but he always declines, citing he’s too busy or maybe next month. 

And while Tommy doesn’t say anything, it’s as if Joel can practically hear his thoughts. 

“Would you stop thinking so damn loud,” Joel mutters, and Tommy gives him a knowing smirk. “‘M fine. Worry about how we’re gonna finish this project and less about me,” Joel tells him. They both return their attention to their work.

As Joel works to finish up his administrative tasks before the rest of the crew arrives, he tries to shove down the annoyance he feels that maybe Tommy might be right. Maybe it has been too long, besides, rutting his cock into his fist in the shower every night is starting to get old. 

He’s not intentionally trying to avoid meeting someone, it’s just that nobody’s ever really caught his attention, not in any genuine way. He knows he’s attractive, but it might as well be poison to him for the types of women he attracts – it’s all fake tits, tight jeans, and money-hungry cougars just looking for someone to show them a good time. 

Just as he starts to think all of the good girls might be gone – he meets you.

++++ 

God, either this booth is uncomfortable or his back is getting worse. He tries to relieve some of the pressure by hunching over for a second. Nope, that’s worse. He sits up to full height and that’s a little better, for now, at least. He looks at the menu in front of him. He thinks about ordering a burger, but with how busy it is, he’s not confident it would come out in time before his lunch break ends. Besides, he told Tommy he would be back in less than 30. 

He didn’t intend to stop, he was just looking for an excuse to clear his head. But when he went to grab his coffee, he realized he had left it on his desk. He’d taken the highway exit to get to the restaurant by chance, hoping he might find a Starbucks or something quick. But nope, as it usually goes in small towns, the only coffee place nearby is where he currently sits. 

He notices you coming up to the table out of the corner of his eye and turns his head to look at you. 

Shit – you’re beautiful. He thinks he might have died and gone to heaven. He watches as your thighs come flesh with the edge of the table, a coffee pot in your hand. 

"Hi," you say, he notices your voice is soft. "Can I get you something to drink?"

He’s so fucked. You even sound pretty. 

Your eyes find him, and he swears he feels something shift, electricity courses through him. You’re the first person to look at him, actually look at him, in years. He tries to keep his face level, not wanting to give away any of what he’s thinking. 

His eyes drift down to your chest until he notices the nametag pinned to your shirt. Cute name. It matches your pretty face. He internally chuckles to himself when he notices the coffee stains and what he thinks might be ketchup on your shirt. It makes him smile, mostly because he’s no stranger to wearing food himself, although you’re a waitress, it makes more sense to him that you’d be a little messy, a little dirty. He doesn’t quite have the same excuse. 

Distracted, it dawns on him that he’s probably staring. Stop being weird, she doesn’t need some old man gawking at her while she’s just trying to do her job, you fucking creep. 

He moves his eyes to the coffee pot in your hand. Right. The whole reason he’s here in the first place. 

 "Just coffee, darlin'," he says, watching as you pour some into the mug that was already waiting on the table. 

“You let me know if I can get you anything else,” you whisper.

He thinks he might pass out when he sees your smile. So, so fucked. 

“Just coffee for me today, sweetheart, thank you.” 

He internally grimaces when he realizes he’d let sweetheart slip, hoping it didn’t weird you out. You can take the man out of the South, but you can’t take the South out of the man. He tries not to stare as he watches you walk away, but he can’t help himself. 

Sitting in silence, he nurses his coffee and tries to ignore the annoying glances that he seems to be getting from, well, everyone. He feels like he might as well have a giant arrow above his head screaming I’m horny for the waitress. He knows he’s looking at you more than he should, but like a moth to a flame, he just can’t seem to look away. He wonders how long you’ve worked here, and what your story might be. He wonders if you’re happy. Why the hell would he be wondering that? He just met you, for fucks sake. 

He’s just another customer. 

The establishment itself is pretty much what’d you expect for a small-town dive, the smell of grease and hamburgers wafting through the air. The portions are huge, and the coffee is good. There’s just one annoying thing about it, and he quickly learns her name is Tracy. 

He only knows this because she’s quick to offer it up, calling him baby and sugar, pestering him like a fly. She’s attentive in a way that’s forced, suffocating in every possible way. He can tell she’s the type of woman who craves the attention of any man who’s willing to give her the time of day, the type of woman that lets her boobs do all the talking. He’s lonely, yes, but he’s not desperate. He wants nothing more than for you to refill his coffee, just so he can hear your voice again, but she makes it near impossible. 

More than three cups of deep, but still bone tired, he feels his phone vibrate in his jeans and he knows it’ll be Tommy asking where he’s at. He pulls it out and sure enough. He looks around the restaurant, hoping maybe he might be able to cash out with you, but you’re nowhere to be seen. 

He opens his worn leather wallet, the same one he’s had since Sarah gifted it to him all those years ago, only to find a handful of $20s. He drops one on the table and decides it’s not worth it to ask Tracy for change; he could go the rest of his life never talking to her again and be fine with it. 

He silently slips out of the restaurant, and his curiosity about you nearly drowns him on the drive back. 

But this time when he walks into the trailer, he can’t help the cheesy grin that involuntarily appears on his face. 

“Who are you and what have you done with my brother?” Tommy teases, his words slightly muffled from the bite of PB&J in his mouth, the sticky tack of peanut butter glued to the roof of it. 

“Shut up,” he says, but there’s no bite behind it. 

++++

The days turn into weeks, and he tries to step away from work, he does. Every day he tries to find an excuse to go in and see you, a reasonable time to step away for an hour or so. But it’s hard, project demands are at an all-time high, and the client is up his butt, freaking out they won’t be done in time. He works overtime, arriving earlier than usual and leaving close to midnight nearly every night. 

Joel Miller is a lot of things, but above all, he’s a man of his word. He and his brother didn’t build this company by being late or half-assing work. We’ll get it done, he reassures the client. And they will, he’ll make sure of it. 

“Joel, get up man,” Tommy says, shaking his shoulder. He jolts awake, his vision a little fuzzy, slightly disoriented. 

He must have drifted off during his lunch break and passed out cold on his keyboard. When he finally comes to, he automatically feels a twinge in his lower back. He’ll pay for that little nap later, he can already tell. 

“You’ve been working too hard, why don’t you call it a day, go home, and get some sleep? I’ve got it here for the rest of today,” Tommy offers. As much as they fight, there is a mutual understanding there – respect, even love, although they’ll both never admit to that outright. 

He starts to protest, but the pain in his back tells him that maybe he’s right. Lord knows he could benefit from a hot shower and a good night's rest, but even those things, things that should be relaxing, don’t offer him any respite. When he’s not thinking about work, he’s thinking about you. Your kind, soft eyes, and warm smile have sunk their teeth into his mind, and no matter how hard he tries, he just can’t seem to shake you. 

A rather frustrating fact, considering you’ve probably forgotten all about him. Just another customer, he’s just another customer. 

On the drive back home, he realizes he’s not far off from the exit to the restaurant. You’re probably not even working, and he knows he might be risking seeing Tracy again, but fuck it.  Before he has time to talk himself out of the decision, he’s pulling into the parking lot. 

He’s surprised at how quiet the restaurant is, a lot different from his first visit. He looks at his watch, it’s close to 3 o’clock, and from the state of the place, he can tell the lunch rush likely just finished. He tries to not be obvious about the fact that he’s scanning the place, looking for something, someone. You. 

He sees you before you see him. You look – focused. He can tell you’re a little worn out, but fuck if you aren’t still adorable. He flexes his hand open and closed a few times, trying to calm nerves he didn’t even know he had anymore. 

He grins a little as you tell him to take a seat wherever you want, as he watches intently as you throw the final pieces of flatware into the bin. He’s kind of impressed with how quickly you cleaned up the mess, how easily you hoist the heavy bus bin onto your hip. 

When you finally notice him, he lifts his hand in a silent hello. 

You look cute when you’re surprised. He can tell he’s caught you off guard. Like you weren’t expecting him. He notices as you scan his body, taking him in. He wonders if you feel this too, whatever the fuck this is. 

“Oh, hi. Um, go ahead and take a seat, I’ll be with you in just a second, just gonna drop this in the back,” you say. The smile and obvious excitement that washes over your face tells him everything he needs to know. 

He’s a customer. But what if he was more than that? 

Jesus. 

No. 

He’s just a customer. 

He decides that the booth by the window looks decent enough. The booth and his back fight once more, but he eventually gets comfortable. When you greet him again, your smile and soft voice melt into him, making him forget all the stress of the past few weeks. It takes him a second before it dawns on him that he hasn’t responded to you, that he hasn’t said anything. Talk to her, say something…say anything. 

“I was, uh hoping you’d be here,” he says, realizing how cringe he probably sounds. Has he always been this bad at flirting?

But before he can recover, Tracy swoops in like a hawk, eager to monopolize his attention. He watches as you sink back into the depths of the restaurant, leaving him with her. No, come back. 

She's quick to bring him a menu, some coffee, and offer him a selection of homemade pies, her enthusiasm bordering on overwhelming. He’s being rather curt with her, not even trying to hide the fact that he’s not interested, but the more he seems to ignore her, the stronger she comes on. He’s a thin thread away from telling her to just fuck off, but he doesn’t want to be rude. Besides, he knows you’re busy. He might not get to talk to you this time, but he will – or at least he hopes he will – especially if everything goes according to his plan. 

He’s not even sure if what he intends to do can be classified as a plan. Hell, he’s just glad that he even has a spare business card in his wallet. 

He scans the dining room for you, and once he spots you, he rises from the booth and intentionally catches your eye. With the worn card in hand, folded between the folds of some cash, he hopes that you understand his message when he nods and tucks it under the coffee cup. Please call. He’s not sure he’s ever been more hopeful for anything, ever. 

He swings by the grocery store on his way home, picking up some beer and a frozen pizza, too tired to cook anything real for dinner. He sinks into the cushions of his couch and tries to drown out his hopefulness with the distraction of T.V. But, he’d be lying if he said his heart rate doesn’t quicken with every notification that comes through his phone. 

But you don’t call or text. 

He thinks that maybe you’re just trying to play it cool, not wanting to come across as too eager. 

But as the days go on, still not a peep from you, he tries to shove down the darker thoughts that cross his mind. Maybe he had misinterpreted the signals you were giving him, misread the energy that feels palpable when you’re next to each other. Maybe he’s just out of practice. Not your type. 

You don’t want him. Why would you? He’s just some contractor, an old washup. Probably one of dozens of men who spend their nights waiting, wishful and hungry for even just a glance from you. One of the dozens of men who spew hot loads of come onto their bellies alone at night brought to a tipping point thinking about how sweet you might sound chanting their name, how tight your pussy would feel gripped around their cock. 

Fuck. 

++++

Some weeks later, he’s pulling another late night at the job site. And when the fluorescent lights get to be too much, he decides to call it a night. He can’t quite put a finger on it, but there’s a gnawing in the pit of his stomach, a silent feeling like he should swing by the restaurant – maybe even apologize for coming on too strong or weirding you out. Before he can even rationalize what he’s doing, he’s once again pulling into the parking lot. Except – 

Somethings wrong. 

There’s only one car in the parking lot, and the neon open sign remains lit, but something feels…off. 

He can feel it, like some sort of primal instinct laying dormant in his body has woken up.

It all happens so fast, faster than his mind can register. When he sees you, struggling in the hands of some fucker, he intervenes. He moves fast, doesn’t think twice, just lets his body take over. He pulls the man off of you, adrenaline coursing through his veins, his blood red hot, and his jaw tense. 

“I’d think twice if I were you before you try and win this one,” he says, voice low and threatening. Don’t make me go to jail tonight. 

He’s not surprised he hits the guy as hard as he does. He barely feels it, the bone-crunching under his fist. He’d probably kill the guy if you weren’t right there, watching his every move. It’s not a fair fight, not really. Joel knows he’s bigger and stronger, and has the unfair advantage of being sober. He can tell he probably broke the guy's nose, and that’s probably punishment enough. He drags the man out of the establishment and tells him to get the fuck out and never come back. He hopes the warning is enough, the message clear that if he tries to touch you again, ever, it’ll end worse. He’ll make sure of that. 

He locks the door and turns to face you. You look so – scared. So innocent, shaken, like a baby deer who just saw its mother get hit by a truck. He even thinks for a second that you might be afraid of him, a thought that makes his heart sink. I would never hurt you. He brings both of his hands to the sides of your arms – keeping the touch intentionally light, with a gentle, reassuring grip. It’s okay, I’m here. You’re safe now. 

“You alright?” he asks, watching with concern as you try and put on a brave face. God, he hates to see you cry, hates that anything could ever make you cry. He can tell you’re trying to avoid looking at him, not wanting him to see your vulnerability.

It’s okay. No one is going to hurt you.  

He brings his hand up to cup your cheek and uses the edge of his thumb to tilt you up to look at him. God, you’re perfect. 

The hand that meets his is soft until a sharp sting comes to his attention. He watches as you grab his hand and bring it down to your eye level, noticing the blood on it, a giant split down the middle of one of his knuckles. Fuck that guy. He wishes he would have given him just a little more, maybe a black eye or two. 

"You're hurt," you say, the tears in your eyes now replaced with genuine concern. 

He can tell you’re worried about him, a fact that makes him feel a little fuzzy inside. 

"It's okay, don't worry about it, doesn't hurt," he tries to reassure you. And he is. He’s suffered worse, nothing that won’t be better in a day or two, even if it does sting like hell right now.

"We've got a first aid kit in the back. Let me clean you up," you insist, nodding towards the rear of the room.

He doesn’t want you to have to put up with that right now, especially after everything that just happened. 

"It’s alright sweetheart, you don't have to, really…" he protests.

"You just defended me. Bandaging your knuckles is the least I can do to thank you," you tell him firmly, leaving no room for refusal. 

Fuck, you’re so sweet. So perfect and sweet. You could ask him for the moon and he’d try to find a way to lasso it down for you. 

His heart quickens as you interlace your fingers with his on his left hand and guide him through the restaurant. He even chuckles a little to himself when you tell him to watch his step. You’re being so nice, he can’t be misinterpreting this – there’s no way. But why didn’t you call? The question weighs heavy on his mind. 

In the small office, you flick on the light switch and rummage through the cabinets until you find an old first aid kit tucked away in the back. He leans against the desk, quietly observing you, taking in the fact that he’s here, in this tiny office, with you. That you care enough to help him. That he cares enough to protect you. 

"Ah, got it," you say with a hint of excitement that you found the kit, a little surprised there was even one stashed away. Though most of the bandages and finger condoms are missing, there's still plenty of gauze and alcohol wipes.

His cock twitches a little when you rip open the alcohol wipe with your teeth, he thinks you might be good with your mouth in more ways than one. 

"This might sting a bit," you warn, meeting his gaze with genuine care. I can take it, baby. He can tell the way you’re being with him right now might be your nature, to want to take care of those around you. To be what they need. 

“‘You can make it up to me later,” he whispers, hoping you’re sensing the intention behind his words. As you’re patting the blood on his knuckles, he feels the need to know why you didn’t call bubble up to the surface, the question at the tip of his tongue. Oh just ask her. 

“Can I ask you something,” he says, looking down at you, not even realizing he’s holding his breath. He exhales when he hears you say mhmm in response. 

Rip off the fucking bandaid man. 

“Why didn’t you call?” 

He watches as you close your eyes and take a deep breath. “I wanted to. I mean, I almost did – I typed out so many texts to you it’s borderline embarrassing,” you pause for a second to grab the gauze from the counter behind him. As you lean in closer to him, you bring with you the soft scent of your shampoo. You smell like honey and the earthy, clove smell of tobacco. You smell divine.  

“I guess I’m just not used to being wanted. Don’t know how to do this kind of thing. I’ve been alone for so long, and I guess, I don’t know, Joel,” you affix a little piece of tape to the gauze, before dropping his hand, all finished. How could anyone not want you?

He watches you intently as you stand before him, grateful that you’re being so honest with him. He wishes so badly you would look him in the eye. 

“I didn’t want to embarrass myself. Not sure why a guy like you would even want a girl like me to call him anyway…” you trail off, letting out a small cough to hide the emotion creeping up in your throat. Is she joking?  

He floats his hands up to your hips, and he tugs you in closer to him, body weight still propped up against the desk, his thick thighs bracketing yours. You still avoid his eyes, your gaze seemingly fixed on a button on his shirt. 

“Look at me, sweetheart.”

His hand still hurts a little, a dull throb, but he could care less right now. He trails it up over the side of your body until his fingers land under your chin. Sweet girl. He uses his thumb to tilt you up to look at him. You look so beautiful right now, so raw and so perfect. The soft plush of your lips draws his attention, and he can’t help but touch them.

There’s so much he could say, so much he wants to say. He wants to build you up, to tell you that you’re worthy of the whole world. That you’re beautiful and kind, and that any man would be lucky to have you. He doesn’t even have to deeply know you to know those things. 

But he can tell from the look in your eyes that it’s not what you need right now. He’ll tell you someday. He’ll tell you every day if you’ll have him. 

But no. 

Right now you don’t need someone to tell you how gorgeous you are, you need someone to show you.

“Joel,” he hears you whisper, knowing full well that his thumb is still on your lower lip. He wants so badly to know what they’d feel like on his. 

“Ki–” 

Fuck it. 

He drops his hand and leans in to crash his lips into yours, and holy shit. He wants you so fucking bad. He’s never wanted anything, or anyone, more. 

He sucks your bottom lip into his mouth and his cock hardens when you let out a little whimper. He holds you tighter to his chest, his thick and capable hands admiring the soft curves of your hips. He needs more, needs to taste your skin, needs to know what it feels like on his lips. He dips his mouth to your neck, kitten-kissing you as delicately as he can. More, he needs more. 

He skims his injured hand underneath your shirt, caressing the skin between your shoulder blades. Jesus, you’re so impossibly soft, your skin feels like silk compared to his. He nips at your jaw, and the soft moan escapes your lips makes him feel feral. 

“Fuck, baby. Wanna go slow with you, take my time. Do it right,” he says, internally acknowledging how wrecked it comes out.

He trails his hand up and pulls the shirt of your uniform down over your breast, exposing the simple lacey bra. Ugh. It’s so much for him, the little moans you keep making for him as he kisses your neck, the way your nipples respond beneath the fabric to his touch.

“Wanna show you what you’re worthy of sweet girl, in all the ways,” he groans into your chest, and he means it.  

“I want you to fuck me so badly,” you blurt out, lost in the delusion of arousal. 

Fuck. Yes. 

His cock is rock hard, so stiff it’s almost painful. He doesn’t even remember the last time he was this hard. He wants so badly for you to just fall to your knees in this tiny little office and suck it. He wants so badly to hold the column of your throat while he shoves his thick cock into your wet and waiting mouth, feel him deep down your throat. More. He needs more. 

He hopes to god that you’ll chant his name like a prayer when he unravels you like a spool of thread. He can hear it in his head now, as he licks your soft skin and holds you against him. He can’t stop thinking about how pretty you’ll sound when you come for him.

“Patience, angel baby. You’re in good hands,” he purrs. 

“Can I undress you?” he asks. He wants you to know that you’re in control here, that hel’ll only do what you want him to and nothing more. You call the shots. 

You toe off your beat-up sneakers and work to take off your shirt and bra, and he works to unbutton your skirt. Fucking buttons. He thinks it’s cute the way you wiggle your hips to assist him in removing the barrier. After what seems like no time at all, you’re nearly fully nude in front of him, bare save the thin cotton of your panties. Perfection. You are perfection.

He frowns a little when he notices you cross your arms over your chest in an attempt to hide your body. 

“God damn, sweetheart. Look at you,” he says, taking a small step back and admiring the view. He thinks you’re a masterpiece, a piece of art holding court just for him to gaze at. He’s never really considered himself to be lucky, but he must have done something right to have you right here with him right now. 

He gently grabs the arm you’re covering yourself with and exposes your bare chest. Don’t hide, baby. 

“No need’ta hide from me,” he tries to reassure you. 

You push your chest out to him, for him. He accepts your offering; swipes a calloused thumb across your plush, silky nipple, and crouches to catch the other in his desperate mouth. He groans into your chest the second your nipple meets his lips. He smirks at the sound of the deep hum that escapes from your throat, lips still attached to your breast. 

“Feels so good, Joel,” you moan. Just getting started with you. 

He trails kisses down the valley of your breasts, across the soft swell of your stomach, doing his best to whisper sweet praises as he does. It feels so good, so natural when you drape your hands over his broad shoulders and thread your fingers through the curls. It’s been so long since he’s been touched like that, the feeling goes straight to his cock. More. More. More. 

He can tell you’re a little hesitant, maybe a little lost in your thoughts. He does his best to pull you back to him. On his knees, he places both of his hands on the curves of your hips and holds you steady while he looks up at you. You look so beautiful looking down at him, your lips slightly parted, your skin shiny from the sheen of sweat, your obvious arousal evident on your face. He wonders what he must look like to you. 

“Can I take these off, baby?” he asks, hooking his thumbs in the band of them. He wants to hear you say it, to permit him to cross that line. 

“You, um, you don’t have to. It’s okay, really…” you shy away. 

Please, he pleads to himself silently. 

He presses his nose into your mound and fuck, you smell so good, he can’t help but moan. 

“Smell so sweet, need to taste you, sweetheart. I won’t if you don’t want me to, but fuck, I would love to,” he says, and it’s true. He suspects you’ve never had a real man take care of you, taking the time to pleasure you to your heart’s content. A damn shame.

“O-kay,” you say on an exhale. 

“I gotcha, don’t worry,” he rasps out, his voice equal parts gentle, and gruff with desire. He wants to reassure you. 

He gently tugs the fabric down over your thighs, the fabric gathering at your ankles. You take a small step out of them, and he gently caresses up the back of your calve, and back of your thigh, his hand landing on the curve of your ass. He tightly grabs the flesh there. He gently guides your leg up onto one of his shoulders, and you press back into the wall and lean your pelvis closer to him. 

“Fuck, what a pretty little pussy,” he praises, before leaning in to place an experimental kiss on the top of your mound. He thinks this might be the most perfect pussy he’s ever seen in his life. Making sure you aren’t uncomfortable, he looks at you to make sure you’re okay with him continuing. 

He’s eager, and he’s sure it’s coming across in the way he’s kissing you. Once you’re comfortable with his mouth on you, he glides the middle finger of his non-bandaged hand through your wet slit before flipping it so it’s wrist up, pausing with the pad of it right at the entrance of your tight hole. 

He thinks he could come right there, with the way you’re looking down at him with lusty doe eyes and biting your lower lip. He watches your face as he gently nudges the tip in. Fuck, you’re so tight. He holds it there for a brief second, his restraint threadbare, before fully thrusting it up into your core. 

“Fuck angel, you’re tight,” he moans as he continues to feel you, eventually putting his mouth back on your pussy, sealing his lips around your puffy clit. He pumps his finger in and out of you and flicks and swirls his tongue where he can feel you need it the most. You’re so wet for him, so tight, so willing. If he weren’t already on his knees, he knows he’d fall to them eventually, he’d worship at your alter every day if you’d let him. 

“More,” you moan, “Fuck–please, Joel, give me more,” you mewle. 

“That’s my girl, gonna stretch you out, get you nice and ready for this cock,” he whispers against your wet skin as he slips another finger in, one you greedily accept. He devours you, licks at you like you’re the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted, because you are. He could stay here for hours, making you come for him again and again. 

He can tell you’re close, so he picks up his pace. You’re nearly there, seconds away from giving him what he wants. Just one more – 

“Holy shit, yes, I’m coming, oh my god, don’t stop,” you unravel for him, a babbling mess of pleasure, he holds you steady as he works you through it. Perfect, sweet girl. The taste of your release and the pretty sounds you make coming have his cock aching. He gently hoists your leg off of his shoulder and rises to full height. 

“Such a good girl for me, you come so pretty,” he whispers against your neck, nipping at your jaw until your lips find his. He wonders if you’ve ever tasted yourself before, or if he’s the first to kiss you after eating you out – the thought makes him even harder, to know he might be the first to show you how sweet you taste. 

He watches as you begin to kneel before him. He stops you before your knees touch the floor. 

“You don’t want me to suck your cock?” you ask. He does. Of course he does. He’s just not sure he’d last, but he’d never admit that, besides, there’s something he needs so much more right now. 

“Oh angel baby, I would love to feel those sweet little lips of yours wrapped tight around my cock, hold your throat as you choke on me,” he coos.

He groans as he feels you bring your palm to cup him through his jeans, drinking in the sensation of your hands tracing over him. His jaw tightens and his head falls back as you work over him. His cock welcomes the attention, too. He’s already leaking, he needs to come so bad.  

“But there’s something I want more right now. Feel what you do to me?” he says, pressing your hand harder down onto him. “Need to feel that sweet, tight cunt of yours around me first,” he says intensely. You make quick work of undoing his belt buckle and slip off his jeans and boxers in one swoop. It feels so good to be free of the confines of his pants, the pressure on his cock a little less overwhelming now. 

“Yo–you’re so big,” you say, a little intimidated. He grabs you by the hips and holds you tight against him, his cock pressed between your bodies against the bare flesh of your tummy. He can tell you might be a little overwhelmed, but he reassures you. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart. You can take it,” he says, using one hand to grab the back of your thigh and tapping the other. He lifts you with ease and spins you around so you’re sitting on the mahogany desk in front of him. He stands between your legs, holding himself by the base, pumping himself slowly up and down his length with his fist. He stares at your wet, aching hole, wishing he was buried inside of it. The thought dawns on him that he doesn’t have a condom. No, fuck. “I’m on birth control,” you say, blurting it out. “And I’m clean, you don’t have to use a condom, I mean, if you don’t want to.” And shit – that’s quite possibly the best sentence he’s ever heard in his entire life. 

He knows it might be a little reckless, but he doesn’t have any reason to believe you’d lie to him.

 “Okay. Open your legs wide for me, baby. Wanna see you,” he says, and you do as he tells you. He sees his hard cock in his hand and opens his mouth to spit on it. You’re wet and ready, but he knows he’s a lot to take, and he doesn’t want to hurt you. 

He admires the way you’re holding your legs open for him, giving him full access to your cunt. He positions himself at your entrance and gently pushes his hips forward so the tip of him is inside of you. Holy fuck. He pauses there, giving you a second to adjust. 

“Eyes on me, baby. Wanna see you as I take what’s mine,” he says, his voice a wreck. When you open them, he sinks even deeper. Halfway inside of you, he pauses again. How is he ever supposed to last with your pussy clenched this tight around him. 

He asks if you’re okay, and when you nod, he pushes in a little more, dragging back out of you for only a second, until he’s jutting his hips forward, fully burying himself deep inside of you. Nothing has ever felt this good to him, nothing could ever compare. 

Jesus, think of something else – make this last. He tries to distract his mind, disconnect his cock from his brain, but there’s no point. His primal urges have taken over, his body is losing the war with his mind. 

He sets a slow and steady rhythm at first, dragging in and out of you. He would love to fuck you harder, deeper. He knows he won’t last long, but he doesn’t care, as long as he gets you to come for him one more time. 

“You can fuck me harder, Joel. ‘M not gonna break, I promise,” you coo. His hand flexes tighter, and that’s all he needs. Give the girl what she wants. “Shit, c’mere,” he says, helping you off the desk, steading your legs. He flips you over and presses you against the desk. Your hips are perfectly positioned at the edge. He’s not sure anything could be prettier than you bent over, waiting to once again be stuffed with him. 

He stands behind you, angles your hips up slightly, and once again buries himself in you.

“Such a perfect cunt,” he groans, beginning to set a relentless pace. As good as this feels for him, he can tell that something about this angle does something for you, too. His cock fits just right, pushing and gliding over the spongey spot inside of you that he can tell is gonna be the thing that pushes you over the cliff of your orgasm. He holds your hips tightly as he pumps in and out of you, eliciting throaty moans from you. The air is filled with the filthy wanton sound of skin slapping against skin. 

“I –” you mew, “I think I’m gonna come again,” he hears you say, a little breathless. 

“Come for me, baby. Be the good girl I know you are and show me how pretty you are when you come on my cock,” he says, a little out of breath, voice deep. 

Yeah, that’s right. Use me.  

And you do. Your pussy pulses around him as the wave of your orgasm takes over you, and it’s borderline too much for him. He’s gotta slow down if he’s gonna last another second. 

“Where do you want me, baby?”

“Inside, please. Want you to fill me up, make me yours,” you beg for him. 

Holy fuck.

After a few more thrusts of his hips, he begins to stutter and slow. He pauses buried to the hilt inside of you and groans as his cock paints your insides with thick ropes of come. The immediate release of pressure is exhilarating, probably the best orgasm he’s ever had. He feels his cock pulse out final spurts of come, eliciting shakes from him with each one. He feels weightless like he could fly away and sleep on a cloud.

The sensation of him pulling out is a little much, his cock raw and spent. “Stay there,” he says, scurrying off to the kitchen, looking for something he can give you to help clean you up. His eye catches a roll of paper towels next to the sink and he grabs a handful of them for you. 

When he enters the office, he notices how breathtaking you look post-orgasm, post-fuck. It’s a sight he’ll commit to memory forever. He presses his lips to yours again, drinking in your sweetness once more. He thinks he could kiss you forever and never tire of it. 

He helps you get dressed, and you fasten his belt buckle for him and check the gauze on his fist. You both stand there in silence, not quite sure where to go from here, until he offers up. 

“Wanna smoke?” 

++++

“So, how long have you lived here’?” he asks, holding open the lit zippo from his back pocket to you. With the cigarette dangling between your lips, you steady it between your fingers and lean in, he admires your features amidst the dim glow of the fire. So beautiful.

“Too long,” you mumble. He lights his own. 

“And you, where are you off to next?” He hears you ask, and he's not sure how to respond.

“Not sure, the contract job my brother and I have in the county over ends in a week or so. Was thinkin’ it might be nice to head south, maybe Austin,” he responds, smoke twirling in the air around you both. 

“Although, ‘M not so sure anymore. Starting to think I might have a few things I need to take care of here first,” he says, shifting his gaze from the ground until his hooded eyes find yours. You. I need to take care of you.

You smile when he winks at you. Gosh, you’re cute when you smile. He wants to be the reason you smile every day. 

You stand there in comfortable silence, leaning up against the wall next to him. He thinks it feels nice to be wanted, to have someone to just be with. 

And when it’s time to go, he offers you his hand and a ride home. He’s pleased when you accept. 

It’s too soon. He knows it’s too soon, but the thought of you in the passenger seat of his truck, feet on the dash, wind in your hair, makes his heart skip a beat. 

He wants more. 

And something tells him you do, too. 

END

Ily. Thanks for reading! Tags: @endlessthxxghts @theoasisofthings @pedrostories @bastardmandennis @milly-louise @drunk-and-capable @survivingandenduring @ohheypedrito @joeldjarin @nerdieforpedro @amyispxnk @paleidiot @ghostwritesthings @kulekehe @darkheartgatita @goldenhxurs @morallyinept @missladym1981 @auteurdelabre @morgaussy @likeficsinthewnd @morning-star-joy @agentjackdaniels @cayleej @amyispxnk @zialltops @syd-djarin @untamedheart81 @gracevnn @pedrossl4t @littlevenicebitch69 @chulopascal

#joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller the last of us #joel miller one shot #pedro pascal character #pedrohub #pedrostories #consent #joel miller #joel miler x fem!reader #joel miller fanfic #Joel's POV

[slavicdelight]

EPHEMERAL

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen × Targ!Royce!f!reader

Summary: Your father, Prince Daemon Targaryen never ackowledged you. Your mother, Lady Rhea Royce passed away when you were little, which leaves you to be raised by your uncle - King Viserys Targaryen, and his wife - Queen Alicent Hightower. As you grow up in the Red Keep, you grew close to the kings second son - Prince Aemond Targaryen.

Warnings: cursing, violence, canon divergence

A/N: part two is here HIRAETH

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Being the daughter of the infamous Rouge Prince was not easy, especially when your mother was a woman he despised up until her death or after that. You were not even supposed to exist, as your parents held such resentment towards each other, that their union was not consummated for a very long time, before one fateful night, when Prince Daemon was exiled from King’s Landing yet again by his brother, King Viserys. Your maid mentioned to you that your father was extremely enraged and got drunk inside the walls of Runestone. Your lady mother was also having an exceptionally bad day, and so she joined her husband in consuming a ridiculous amount of wine. One thing led to another, therefore you were conceived, and the Targaryen man fled the very next day.

You were born the same year as the eldest son of King Viserys and Queen Alicent, growing up in the Vale with only your mother there, as your father, upon hearing the news of your birth did not even acknowledge you as his child and flew away to fight in the Stepstones. He could call you a bastard of his “Bronze Bitch” all he wanted, but even though you had brown hair, no one could deny the fact that you have the blood of the dragons flowing through your veins, for your eyes were the gorgeous shade of violet. Runestone was your home. You loved running in its halls, playing with various servants and guards, but your most favourite part was learning everything you could from your mother. Sadly your childhood joy did not last long. When you were two name days old Lady Rhea passed away in what was called a hunting accident. People of the Vale did not believe that story and were spreading rumours that it was her husband, who murdered her in cold blood.

Queen Alicent, after learning about your misfortune, convinced her husband to bring you to the Red Keep to be raised among your cousins. She mentioned a well-known saying going around the Targaryen family: “A dragon alone in the world is a terrible thing”. And so, as a result, you were brought to Kings Landing and raised along with the queen’s and Princess Rhaenyra’s children. You got on with Helaena and Aemond pretty well. The princess was your closest friend, you spent most of the time together, because you were the only two girls among the royal family residing in the castle. You did not mind her riddles nor her fondness for small creatures, quite the opposite, you found it fascinating how smart Helaena is. Aemond was a slightly different story. You remember being drawn to him, something inside you did not let you pull away from the prince. For him you were his light in life, the only person he did not mind the company of. You both were polar opposites. You being very kind, talkative and a ray of sunshine, him being closed off and quiet. You disliked Aegon, even though you were the closest in age, because of his vile language and inappropriate behavior. He was also a bully and liked to tease you and Aemond for not having dragons, dragging the sons of Princess Rhaenyra into it as well. When it comes to Jace and Luke, you found them pleasant to be around when they’re not doing Aegon’s bidding. Your life in the Red Keep was going well and you thrived in this environment, but what you did not know, is that it would all soon come to an end.

time skip to the funeral of Laena Velaryon

After Prince Daemon won the war in the Stepstones, he came back to his brothers’ side once again, but it did not last long, as he left following the wedding of Rhaenyra and Ser Laenor. During his presence in the castle, he was set on ignoring your existence, and you only saw him once, when he strolled through the gardens, where you were sitting with Helaena. He wed the lady Laena Velaryon soon after and left for Pentos abandoning you again. Now, you are all standing on Driftmark, attending the said lady’s funeral. Once again your father has paid you no attention and you decided not to let it bother you. After the coffin was laid down into the sea everyone started conversing amongst each other. You decided to stay close to Aemond, due to not feeling confident and you knew that he was the only person who could bring you comfort. As you headed to where the green siblings stood, you heard Aegon talking.

“We have nothing in common.” he said, clearly talking about Helaena, who sat on the ground playing with a spider. As you walked closer you heard her muttering one of her riddles. “She’s our sister.” defended her Aemond, right when you appeared next to him and took his hand, sending a small smile his way, which he returned. “You marry her then”. Lately, it has been revealed that the two eldest children of Queen Alicent are betrothed. You pitied your friend, Aegon was probably the most horrid person you have ever encountered.

“I would perform my duty, if only mother had only betrothed us. But I am to marry someone else.” with that he looked at you. “I am happy to be marrying you, as you are the best possible choice.” you said to him, squeezing his hand tighter. The small council also decided on a marriage between you and the King’s second son.

“She’s an idiot.” said Aegon and your blood boiled. “At least she’s not a complete moron and a drunk.” you bit back and Aemond had to fight back a grin. “Oh you little witch.” said the boy and tried to advance towards you unsuccessfully.

“She’s your future Queen” said the younger brother. It was a known fact that the Queen and the Hand wish to put him on the throne instead of Princess Rhaenyra. War was inevitable. “We do have something in common.” said Aegon, when a maid came over with a tray of wine. “We both fancy creatures with very long legs.” and with that he strolled away in search for more alcohol.

That left you alone with Aemond. Suddenly the pair of you heard unmistakably a roar of the dragon in the distance. Vhagar, the she-dragon of Queen Visenya, that recently became riderless. You look at your companion and noticed the longing look in his eyes. “Aemond. What are you thinking?” you said to get his attention. He turned to you for a second before continuing to stare in the direction of the sound. “She’s hurting, mourning the loss of lady Laena. I always wanted to see her, after all, she is the last living symbol of the conquest. “ you kept going. “Hmm. Maybe we should go and see her then.” you looked at him as he said that. “Tonight, after everyone’s asleep so that no one stops us.”You were used to sneaking out, as you both often did so to spend time together in the keep’s library late at night, to read all the books you could find. After small moment of consideration, you nodded to let him know that you agree to the plan. Up untill the night, you spend time with each other exploring the Drftmark castle.

Soon enough it started to grow dark. You and your best friend stood next to the flight of stairs leading to the beach, looking at drunk Aegon. Just as you were planning to sneak off, the boys’ grandfather, Otto Hightower, came into view, grabbing the eldest prince to drag him to his bed. Aemond looked at you as they left and motioned to follow him, which you did without any worries. Both of you walked towards the place Vhagar nested in, and once the mighty dragon became visible, you were amazed. She was so big, that she did not need to open her mouth much to swallow the two of you. “Fuck” muttered Aemond. “She’s amazing, isn’t she?” you whispered and couldn’t tear your gaze away. And with you saying that the white-haired boy proceeded to move closer towards her. Your brows furrowed at the act and you asked “My prince? What are you doing?”

Aemond turned to face you and said “She is unclaimed and she’s suffering. I can’t let it go on.”. You then understood what he meant and the idea of your betrothed going straight into the jaws of the biggest dragon alive made you uneasy. “Aemond. This is a bad idea! She could burn you! Or eat you!” you argued. “It is my right, both of our right, to claim a dragon.” you knew that, but there were so many dragons without riders. Surely you could make a trip to Dragonstone and try your luck with others, nonetheless, you knew that once Aemond set his mind on something, there is no changing it.

“Just please, be careful.” you muttered into his ear as you hugged the boy. Unwanted tears gathered in your eyes, as you saw him approach the animal. You were pretty far away and too lost in your own mind to hear him say anything. When Vhagar opened her mouth to breathe fire, you almost fainted from worry, but you believed that he could do it. And he did it, the dragon accepted him as his rider, letting him climb atop her for their first flight. You were so proud of the prince and you beamed into the sky screaming “Yes Aemond! You did it!” and laughing. Once the flight was done and he climbed down, he called you to his side. You came over slowly, wary of the dragon, as you knew, they don’t like the presence of people, who aren’t their riders.

“I did it! Did you see? I was flying!” Aemond became a ball of energy at this moment and you couldn’t help but grin. “You did it. You’re finally a dragon rider.” and with that, you hugged him. “I’m so proud of you.”. He gave you a beautiful smile, but it slightly fell, once you said “But scare me like that ever again and I will kill you.”. Taking his hand, you both started walking back towards the castle and Aemond told you all about the experience, and how freeing, yet terrifying it felt. Neither of you expected to encounter a problem once you walked inside.

“It’s them.” said one of your half-sisters. In the entrance stood the daughters of the late Lady Laena, along with Jace and Luke. “It’s us.” confirmed Aemond when you both emerged from the darkness. “Vhagar is my mother’s dragon. She was mine to claim.” exclaimed Rhaena and you could clearly see rage overcoming her. “Dragons aren’t possessions to be passed down, dear sister.” you told her and everyones eyes turned to you. “Aemond had the right to claim her and she chose him. It is done.” you defended your prince and he gave you a small smile before saying “Perhaps your cousins would find you a pig to ride. It would suit you.” Not that long ago Aegon, Jace, and Luke pulled a prank on Aemond, dressing up a pig in wings, calling it Pink Dread. With that Rhaena tried to hit him, but he dodged the attempt and pushed her away, making Baela strike him on the nose. With that, all hell broke loose and you knew that it will not end well. You tried to stop them “No! Leave him alone! He didn’t do anything wrong!”, but someone pushed you away and you banged your head against the torch on a wall. You could feel the bleeding and the ache, but you ignored it to observe what was happening in front of you.

Aemond was holding Luke by the neck, while in his other hand he gripped a rock. “You will die screaming as you father did. Bastards.” he said and you were shocked, not because you didn’t believe it, but rather because he said it out loud. Everyone knew Princess Rhaenyra was having an affair with Ser Harwin Strong. How else would anyone explain the certain resemblance he has to the “Velaryon” boys? They do not look anything like their supposed father Ser Laenor. The King Viserys was conveniently blind to it, but everyone knew that he just prefered to conceal the truth to protect his “only child”. “My father’s still alive.” said Luke and you watched a smirk appear on the white-haired prince’s face. “He doesn’t know, does he? Lord Strong.” he continued and you had to intervene. “Aemond stop. That’s enough. Let’s finish this madness.” you tried to convince him to let the younger prince go. He looked at you and that’s when Luke broke free and both he and Jace attacked Aemond. Before you could comprehend what was happening you saw a flash of knife and blood chilling scream of your betrothed.

You ran towards him and saw him clutching his eye tightly. The bastard took his eye. “Aemond!” you screamed. “Guards! What are you waiting for?! Get help!” you yelled at your sisters and cousins, while trying to soothe Aemond. Soon enough guards poured in and one of them pulled you away from your best friend, much to your protest. “My prince. Let me see.” The guard turned Aemond around and saw the wound. “Gods be good” Gods be good indeed. You were all taken to the hall and the adults were called. By that time you felt very faint from the blood loss and passed out. You didn’t hear the exchange between Queen Alicent and Princess Rhaenyra as you did not wake in time, but you know, as did everyone in the realm, what transpired there.

You woke up two days later, and you took time to recover. It did not stop you from visiting Aemond in his chambers or going to the gardens and spending time with Helaena. One day as you were walking to your rooms, you overheard a conversation between Queen Alicent and Lord Larys Strong. They were discussing the issue of your father marrying Princess Rhaenyra and the scandal it caused. Both believed they had a hand in Ser Laenor’s murder, but what was said in this conversation rang in your head for days. “I would not put it passed Prince Daemon to murder the princess’s husband. After all, nothing stopped him from killing his first wife.” Your mother’s death wasn’t an accident, because it was Daemon who murdered her to finally be free of marriage duty. Since that day you hated your father even more and you promised yourself, that you would avenge your beloved mother.

time skip six years later

You and Aemond have been married for a year now and you recently welcomed a child into the world, a beautiful girl named Alysanne after the Good Queen, who looked like exact copy of the prince. Your husband a wonderful father and lover. Since the day your daughter was born he has been spending all of his free time tending to you both. Even though the Driftmark accident caused the prince to be colder and more intimidating, he was very caring and soft towards you, your daughter, his mother and his sister. Only the women of his family were privileged to see this side of him. After your wedding you relocated to Runestone and you took over your responsibilities as a Lady of the house. Aemond unsurprisingly thrived in the Vale as the Lord of Runestone, as he was dutiful, smart and formidable. You were content there, but you visited the Red Keep as often as you could on your dragons. Yes, you heard correctly. Dragons. About two years after the loss of Aemonds eye, you stumbled upon a dragon of your own. It was one of the wild ones, that terrified anyone who heard his name. You claimed the notorious Canniball. During the last visit to King’s Landing, Helaena gifted you both a dragonn egg from Dreamfire’s latest clutch to put into Alysanne’s cradle.

Just last night the three of you arrived at court for the Driftmark petitions, that are being held in approximately three days. Corlys Velaryon suffered a terrible injury during his voyage and no one could be sure if he will recover. This plundged the succession into question. Lord Vaemond Velaryon publicly questioned Lucerys Velaryon’s right to become the next Lord of the Tides. King Viserys has been bedridden for a long time now, and the realm was placed into the hands of Hightowers, who ruled in his stead. Princess Rhaenyra was informed of the petition and was to come to the Red Keep to defend her son, and along with her will come the whole black fraction of Targaryen family. You weren’t keen on seeing any of them again, especially Prince Daemon, as you held strong resentment towrads the man.

On the day of their arrival you and your daughter were on the country yard watching Aemond train with Ser Criston Cole. Soon you saw the two eldest sons of heir to the iron throne and smirked at their terrified expressions, while they realised what formidable fighter your husband was. With a few more strikes of the blade Aemond defeated Cole. “Congratulations my Prince, you’ll be winning tourneys in no time.” said the knight. “I don’t give a shit about tourneys.” you beloved answered and directed his eyes towards the boys. “Nephews. Have you come to train?”. In that moment the gate opened and in walked Vaemond Velaryon, advancing towards the keep, he casted the nastiest look he could muster towards his “nephews”.

After that Jace and Luke scurried away inside, probably in search of their mother or Daemon for protection and Aemond walked up to you and took your daughter into his arms, while she blabbed excitetly at her father. “It seems, my love, that you scare them off.” you said, smilig at him. “Hmmm. Good. It is best they learn their place. I am not so easily defeated now.” and with that he placed his hand on the small of your back and guided you in direction of your chambers. When you walked inside, Aemond placed your daughter in her cradle, while you sat next to the fireplace. “I wish for you to behave today. I know that their presence irritates you, but it is not for long and we don’t need any fights today. Gods know my father is only waiting for a reason to kill us all, so it will be best not to give him one.” Aemond only hummed at that and went to stand behind you to massage you neck. “You’re tense.” he stated the obvious. “Of course I am. It is stressfull enough to be in one keep with him. Seriously Aemond, do not do anything to cause a fight today, I beg you.” you truned to look him straight into the eye. “For you, my darling wife, I will be civil, but don’t expect me to be nice.” he answered. You nodded in confirmation. That was all you needed.

Finally it was time for the petitions to be held. You stood between Aemond and Heleana, looking straight into the eyes of Prince Daemon Targaryen and he held your gaze, as if it was a staring contest. Lord Hand stood before the Iron Throne and declared the petitions to be open. First one to make his was Ser Vaemond. His statement was going all about the Velaryon blood, and how his supposed nephews did not have a drop of it in themselves. Princess Rhaenyra tried to intervene, only to be stopped by you mother-in-law. At the end of his petiton he put himself forward as the successor of his brother. It was now the turn of your stepmother to defend her son’s right. She walked gracefully towards the throne and started to say “If I have to grace this farce, I must remind you, that yearly twenty years ago in this very room..”

She was interrupted by the doors swinging open as the knight announced “King Viserys Targaryen, First of His Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm.”. Everyone couldn’t hide their surprise, after all, the king hasn’t been seen in a long time, too sick to even get up from his bed. And yet here he was, walking to the throne with a golden mask covering half of his face, leaning on the support of a cane. “Father has once again come to defend his only child.” sneered Aegon. You couldn’t help the scoff that escaped your lips, it was true, he never shown any care to anyone other than his eldest daughter, and for that you hated the man almost as much as you did your father. In your eyes he was a weak king and even a weaker man. Disgraceful.

In that moment everyone knew that Driftmark will be going to Lucerys, no matter how wrong it was and how many people protested against it. Luke was a sweet boy, but he had no right to the Driftwood Throne. “I don’t understand why are we discussing a settled succesion.” the king said after finally settling on the throne. “The only one, who could offer keeper insight into Lord Corlys’ wishes is the Princess Rhaenys.”. The said princess took a step closer before answering her cousin. “Indeed Your Grace. It was in Lord Corlys’ wishes for Driftmark to be passed to his grandson, Lucerys Velaryon. His mind never changed, nor my support of him. Princess Rhaenyra offered to betroth her children, Jace and Luke to Baela and Rhaena. A proposal to which I heartily agree.” You all knew that is was pointless to argue now. Viserys affirmed Lucerys as the future Lord of the Tides, but it wasn’t acceptable to Ser Vaemond as he openly declared the sons of the heir as bastards. “I will have you tongue for that” rasped the king, but it wasn’t necessary. Prince Daemon Targaryen unnoticed by everyone sneaked behind Vaemond, Dark Sister in his hand, and cut off his head in one strike. Everyone in the hall got startled at that and the petitions were over. The King had to be carried out of the hall as he suddenly fell down.

“Did you see them? Flaunting their privilege without a care in the world. It is horrible how they think they can get away with everything.” you spoke on the way back to your chambers with Aemond trailing behind you. “Darling. Do not worry, it will not last long anyway.” your husband tried to coax you to calm down. After walking into the room, you headed straight to the cradle where Alysanne laid awake, playing with a dragon plushie you made for her during your tea with Helaena. The prince dismissed the maid who was watching your daughter and walked over to you two. “I’m scared Aemond. You saw what he did there. He has no restrain, I fear what he would do to us, to her.” you said and looked at the babe. “He will do nothing, for he would be called a kinslayer. And I shall protect you both with my life. Nothing will happen, I promise you.” That made you hug him and bury your face in his chest. Everything has to be alright.

The night came, and with it the dreaded family dinner, which was demanded by Viserys in honor of his family being all in the same place for the first time in six years. You were talking with Helaena about setting up another playdate for your kids, while your husbands stood to the side talking Gods know about what. Eventually, everyone took their seats. You and your husband were at the end of it, exactly in front of Lucerys and Rhaena. You all stood up when the King was carried in and so let the game of pretending begin. “It is good to see you all, together” Viserys started and Alicent proposed to say prayers. The King stood up for a speech. “My own face is no longer a handsome one, if indeed it ever was” he revealed his full face, which was missing an eye. He looked more like a skeleton than a human. “But tonight, I wish you to see me as I am. Not just a king, but your father.” he looked towards Rhaenyra, Aegon, Helaena and Aemond. “your husband” he said to Alicent. “and your grandsire who may not, it seems, walk for much longer among you.” Everyone’s faces displayed something else, but what they all had in common, was pain of seeing him suffer. “Let us no longer hold ill feelings in our hearts. The crown cannot stand strong if the House of the Dragon remains divided. Set aside your grievances. If not for the sake of the crown, then for the sake of this old man who loves you all so dearly.”. After his speech, Princess Rhaenyra and Queen Alicent made toasts to each other and the atmosphere became lighter. Everyone were enjoying themselves, the room was full of music, laughter, dancing, and pleasant conversations. It was all going smoothly until the pig was brought to the table and set directly in front of your husband. By that time Viserys was carried out as he felt worse. That made Lucerys chuckle, as he was reminded of Pink Dread, and send a smirk Aemonds way. This was his mistake, as the older prince suddenly slammed his hand onto the table, grabbed his cup and made the final toast of the night.

“Final tribute.” with saying that he had everyone’s attention and Aegon raised his cup in support of his brother. “To the health of my nephews: Jace…Luke…and Joffrey. Each of them handsome, wise…” every person in the room held their breath as their waited for inevidable. “Strong.” “Aemond” you and Alicent said at the same time, but he did not listen and he was not about to stop. “Come…Let us drain our cups to these three Strong boys.” that made Jace mad and he went to retaliate. “I dare you to say that again” the bronze haired boy said and everyone stood up from their seats in case a fight erupted. “Why? ‘Twas only a compliment” continued your husband. “Enough of that” you said at the same time Aemond aksed “Do you not thing yourself Strong?”. Jace came over and hit the elder prince straight on the jaw, but it did nothing for Aemond only laughed and shoved the Velaryon onto the floor.“Jace!” screamed Rhaenyra. Lucerys tried to join the fight to help his brother, only to be stopped by Aegon, who slammed him on the table. “That’s enough” said Alicent. You were mad and decided to storm out of the room.

Not much later you husband stepped into the comfort of your chambers where he found you staring outside the window. He walked closer but you immediately took a step back and hissed at him “I asked you not to do anything today. But as always you had to let your pride ruin everything. Now you put a target on our backs. Daemon won’t let this go.”. “My love…” he started only to be cut off by you. “No! I do not want to hear your pitiful excuses.” Aemond scowled at you and you could see him getting angry. “That bastard dared to laugh at me. AT ME! Because of that fucking pig! I was only defending myself!” you only scoffed at that and walked towards the fireplace, further away from him. “If you had any decency you would have ignored it. But you didn’t! Instead you behaved like some peasant and started throwing insults and then began a fight”. “Jaecerys hit me first! He began the fight!” your husband defended himself but his look softened as he saw how worried you were. He kneeled before you and took your hand in his placing a kiss atop of it. “I’m sorry darling. I should’ve composed myself and ignore him. You are right. Please forgive me”. You looked at him and pulled the eyepatch off his face. “I just worry. I don’t want anything bad to happen. We should probably head back to Runestone. I think we overstayed this visit.” Aemond agreed and you decided to set back to the Vale in a couple of days.

But what you didn’t know, is that you wouldn’t be able to return to your keep, as for when you were sleeping, King Viserys drew his last breath and told his lady wife the dream of song of ice and fire, which was interpreted to put Aegon on the throne. War was on the horizont and no one was safe. Your and your family’s happiness and peace is about to become EPHEMERAL.

ღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღ

A/N: My obsession with Aemond Targaryen and Ewna Mitchell reached to the point where i decided to give it a try and write something. Anyways, English is not my 1st language, so there may be some mistakes in writing. If you would like a part II of this story, please let me know in the comments. It would mean the world to me if you decided to leave a heat here ♡

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen fanfic #hotd fanfic #fic rec #aemond x reader #aemond one eye #aemond hotd #prince aemond targaryen #prince aemond targaryen x reader #aemond fic #aemond fanfiction #house of the dragon #hotd #hotd season 2 #alicent hightower x reader #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #daemon targeryen x reader #lucerys velaryon x reader #jacerys velaryon x reader #rhea royce x daemon targaryen #rhaenyra x daemon #viserys targaryen

[kaisers-house-of-desires]

Psssst, it's me, J, I may have a wonderful little request, but may I offer

Leona x ray of sunshine nonbinary reader, with top Leona trying to corrupt the reader with any kink of your choosing?

Oh, my dear, you have no idea how much I adore corruption~ This one may be a bit longer, but nonetheless, please enjoy~

Title: A King's Corruption

Characters: Top!Leona x Bottom!Enby!Reader

Contains: corruption, rough sex, choking

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland

Full request below the cut

All characters are 18+

MINORS, FEM ALIGNED, AGELESS/BLANK BLOGS DNI

Reblogs > likes

"Hey...I wanna try something new."

Leona gazed down at you from his hovered position, arms resting on either side of your head. His expression was serious but laced with hesitance. You two were in Leona's bed together, his large blanket over the both of you as if to cover the devil's dance when he asked his question.

"Oh Leona, of course! You know I don't mind trying new things with you." You softly smiled, gently caressing his face to further reassure the beastman. "What is it?"

"Well...it's a couple things but...first. I was wondering if...I could go rougher tonight."

He was always gentle with you. Despite his demeanor, he always played with you like you were fragile, and you didn't mind it. You adored how soft he could be, how careful yet filling he felt when thrusting into you. Though you had to admit, you felt as if something could be done to spice that up, you were just unsure of how to bring it up.

Though this didn't mean you were without hesitation. "Well...rougher how?"

"I'm...not sure? I just...I want to use my hands a bit more, move harder..."

In all honesty, you weren't sure how you would feel about this, but instead of shutting him down, you replied, "Let's try tonight. Nothing crazy, but you can use your hands a bit more, okay?"

---

Leona carefully thrusted into you, his speed his typical, gentle pace, though this time he had your wrists pinned with his hands, the tips of his claws pressing ever so carefully into your skin. The air was full of sound, moans and gentle skin slapping.

"L-Leona~"

You had to admit, being pinned like this was quite blissful. Despite his gentle movements, you felt at his mercy, and it was quite exciting to feel. This was definitely more than okay with you now, considering just how incredible it felt under his hands.

Then, without thinking, you uttered, "H-Harder...~"

Leona's thrusts sputtered before stalling, as if he had to reach deep within himself to keep control. "A-Are you sure?"

You nodded with a hum, more than certain.

Though you consented, Leona was still careful as his roughness increased, yet that small bit was enough to pitch your moans, your head digging into the pillow. Who knew such little changes would feel so pleasant?

"F-Fuck~! L-Leona~!"

---

Whenever you two were together in bed, a little bit would always be added at your approval. At one point, Leona had brought up the other thing he wanted to do, which was choking. Now that one you were hesitant on, but after your trial sessions similar to the roughness tests, you found that it was just as exhilerating. Throughout it all, you had wondered why you never brought it up before, or rather why you couldn't, but you were always greatful that Leona did so, saving you the trouble.

It wasn't until one night, after many many nights of boundary testing, you two were once again in Leona's bed. He was moving at a pace and roughness that would make demons blush. His hands clutched at the bedsheets beside your head, growling and panting as he fucked your hole with wild abandon. The way you screamed his name had urged him on so much that he was practically feral.

"L-Leona~! S-So good~ S-So fucking good~!"

Though one thing he wasn't expecting just yet was for you to grip at his wrist, startling him to let go of the sheets as you directed his hand over to your neck, gazing up at him with pleading eyes.

His heart throbbed with desire, his cock twitching inside of you as he gripped the sides of your neck, cutting off the bloodflow to your head as it gave you a blissful, fucked out expression. This was what he wanted to see. That sweet face he saw everyday, that sunshine-like, sweet person, reduced to a cock hungry mess.

Leona released your throat, giving you a moment's rest before gripping once more, slightly tighter. He gave a breathy, gravely chuckle as he watched you squirm below him with pitching moans.

"Y-You're doing so good for me~ Now...l-let's get you to cum like this~"

#kaisers house of desires #x reader #twisted wonderland #bottom male reader #x enby reader #x nb reader #x nonbinary reader #nonbinary reader #leona x y/n #leona x reader #twst leona #leona kingscholar #twisted wonderland leona #leona twst #leona twisted wonderland #choking #rough kink #corruption kink

[sophierequests]

i have a request, my love! nikolai lantsov x reader

y/n is the sunshine-y, sweet person who literally brightens up any room. and she caught nikolai's eye and he tries to make his move but everytime he tries to talk to her he finds himself... well, unable to get proper words out. he can't string together a single sentence. y/n picks up on this and teases him ('cause he's obviously known as a flirt) and makes it a bit harder before she finally asks him out herself

you take my breath away

Navigation┃Main Masterlist┃Request

Pairing: Nikolai Lantsov x f!Reader

A/N: *screams because this is such a cute idea* Omg omg omg, I LOVE THAT IDEA, EL! Nikolai being nervous and flustered >>> Thank you sm for the request, I loved writing it! I hope you enjoy reading this <333

Summary: What happens to the oh so charming Nikolai Lantsov when he starts crushing on a someone that - quite literally - takes away his breath?

Genre: Comedy, Fluff

Word Count: 4.4K

Warnings: Mention of sword fighting, pining, oblivious!Nikolai, slightly suggestive ending if you squint, Zoya being an icon

“Zoya, I really don’t think that all of this,” he ambiguously gestured at the array of files in front of him, “is as good of an idea as you think it is.”

The Squaller groaned, hauling the papers towards herself again. The two of them had been wasting their time in his sitting room for hours on end, flipping through files and files of eligible royal women that could become Nikolai’s future wife. It was hell - for both of them - but Ravka needed a queen. So as king, it was his duty to find someone that could rule alongside him.

If he would be completely truthful, he already had someone in mind. Someone that was roughly his age, not promised to anyone else and of royal blood. Meaning, that someone would tick all of the necessary boxes.

You were one of the rather newer Ladies at Ravkan court. Your parents were a duke and duchess who he didn't necessarily remember meeting. Yet, ever since he first laid his eyes on you, he was absolutely smitten with you. You'd be an excellent choice. He really liked to think that. You got along with everyone you interacted with - at least to his knowledge -, you were kind, well-spirited and utterly lovely. You were a literal ray of sunshine, and he couldn’t get enough of you. It was almost like you were born to be a queen - his queen.

Everything seemed to be so perfect. The only issue was that he couldn't even get out one word before his brain went into shutdown when you were around. He had tried and tried to strike up a conversation with you, only to fail miserably. It was as if all of his usually flirty demeanour had been stripped off of him, and he was left with the confidence of an insecure stuttering teenage boy. He had been with countless women before but never had he been left this helpless.

The first time he attempted talking to you, was probably already enough of an embarrassment for you to never give in to any of his advances.

Nikolai had just finished another terribly draining conference and, as much as tried to get his mind off of all things political, he still had another dreadful load of paperwork waiting for him once he reached his sitting room.

He has been so lost in thought, that he didn't register the other person that was coming around the corner. And with both of you not paying any real attention to where you were going, you ran straight into him at full speed. But before he could - quite literally - knock you off of your feet, his arms wrapped around your waist, keeping you steady. It took you a minute to break free from your daze when you noticed who you were currently staring at.

"Oh Saints! Your Highness! I'm so incredibly sorry. I should have watched where I was going." You apologized profusely, taking a step back to give him a bit more personal space.

"Don't apologize, it's fine!" He started grinning like a fool after he realized who he was talking to. Your hair looked slightly out of place - probably a side effect from almost toppling over - but somehow, you still managed to look absolutely magnificent. His heart couldn’t help but skip a beat while he watched a faint blush rise to your cheeks.

And when a wide smile began to grace your lips, he almost thought that he would pass out. In a treacherous motion, he could feel that his own cheeks started to warm up now. How he hated this.

"Oh, thank you, Your Highness! I have just been so lost in thought that I didn't watch where I was going."

"Please, it's call me- I mean, please call me Vas- Nikola! Nikolai. Please call me Nikolai." Well done, he couldn't even introduce himself correctly anymore.

"Alright Nikolai," you let the name roll over your tongue slowly as if you were trying to savour its taste, "I'm not one for titles either, so feel free to call me Y/N." He wanted to answer, to say or do pretty much anything else, instead of just gaping at you as if you had grown a second head.

You had expected him to offer you a cheeky comment or a flirtatious smirk in response, but the cogs in his brain still seemed to process your words. It was odd, and not at all what you had expected. You had heard stories about the smug and cocky Ravkan king, who was never too shy to hand out brash compliments or whisper promiscuous promises into the ears of any young woman that would give him more than one minute of her time. The man standing in front of you seemed to be anything but that.

Before you could open your mouth to break the uncomfortable silence, a voice calling out his name and the clicking of heels could be heard coming from the corridor right next to him.

"Nikolai? Nikolai! Did you forget that we still have some correspondence to take care of today?" A slightly agitated Zoya came into view, eying you from head to toe, however, still giving you a polite nod.

"I should better get going. I didn’t mean to keep you from your work, Nikolai. Enjoy yourselves!” You gave him one last smirk before turning on your heels and continuing your way down the corridor.

“Thank you!” He didn’t even know what exactly he was thanking you for. “Have a great evening!” Zoya stifled a snort when she heard that.

“Nikolai, it’s not even time for lunch yet. The poor girl will think that she’s the one going crazy.” She remarked, her eyes drifting from watching you leave to Nikolai’s still mildly flustered state. She’d definitely remember this.

“Why don’t you just marry Lady Y/L/N? She fits the criteria, she probably doesn’t plan to strangle you in your sleep, and you seem to have found quite the liking in her. That’s probably the best choice you have.” Zoya exclaimed, falling back into her chair as she continued to stare Nikolai down.

“I can’t.”

“And the reason for that is…? You need to give me more than that. I may be extremely lucky to have this many talents, but mind reading sadly isn’t one of them.”

“Keeping secrets isn’t really one of your many talents either, Zoya.” Nikolai averted his gaze, thinking that looking through another mountain of profiles would be way more comfortable than having to explain why he didn’t think that courting you would be possible.

“Lantsov, you’re not getting any younger, and you’re sure as hell not getting any prettier, no matter how long you’re trying to postpone this. Just tell me, and we can move on!” She was seconds away from tossing his royal ass out of the window but getting thrown in prison for the murder of the literal king wasn’t too desirable.

“I’m certain that she believes me to be an absolute fool.” The young king sighed, hiding the embarrassment on his face with one hand.

“Many people do. It would surprise me if your future wife wouldn’t think of you as such.”

“No, no, you don’t understand. I can’t even formulate one coherent sentence whenever she is around, and it is driving me mad! Whenever I attempt to make a move on her, every single logical thought abandons the ship and leaves me gaping like a fish on land.” He mumbled defeatedly. “She has to assume I’m just looking for an excuse not to be around her.”

This time, Zoya didn’t hold back the laugh she had been holding in. She didn’t know what she expected, but this definitely wasn’t it.

“Won’t you look at that? Ravka’s Sweetheart gets all hot and bothered in the presence of a girl he likes.” She took a sip from the glass of wine she was holding before returning her attention to a sulking Nikolai. “She’s the most suitable choice, Nikolai. Keep on pursuing her, until you’re one hundred per cent sure that she isn’t worth it. And maybe she thinks your nervousness is endearing? That would be a bit pathetic, but that seems to be your type.”

Apparently, Zoya also seemed to have a gift for clairvoyance, because her last two statements held more truth than she had envisioned.

You had picked up on Nikolai’s odd behaviour whenever he was around you quite soon after that first hallway encounter. At first, you thought that there had to be something wrong with you. How else could it be explained that you were the only girl at court he just couldn’t hold a conversation with? But soon enough you realized that it wasn’t apprehension, but genuine fluster that made him act like this. And it felt terrible admitting it, but you enjoyed using this information against him.

It had been three days since your last brief encounter with the king, and your mind was putting your quest of teasing him on the back burner. That was until you silently crept into the library of the Grand Palace, only to find him hunched over a heap of books, occasionally taking notes or letting out a huffed breath.

“Nikolai?” You mused, sauntering over to him with an innocent smile on your lips. The blond had to do a double-take when he saw you appear from behind the shelves. Saints, someone should really open a window.

“Lad- Y/N!” He gave you a strained smile, slyly straightening his back and smoothing out his sleeves. Did his hair sit properly? Did his breath smell? Did he-

“What are you doing here this late?” You leaned against the desk opposite Nikolai, your upper body slightly bent over the table, very visibly accentuating your cleavage. You really would be the death of him.

He haggled for the right words to say, but everything inside his mind screamed at him to abort the mission. He wasn’t ready to talk. Not when the two of you were completely alone, and you looked like a literal Saint.

“Reading.” He forced out, immediately regretting that he even opened his mouth.

“Oh?” You asked quizzically, rounding the table to stand beside him, giving yourself a better look at the books in front of him. One of your hands rested on the backrest of his chair - dangerously close to touching his neck or playing with his hair - and the other hand laid on the edge of the desk. “What are you reading?” You could have just turned the book around to see for yourself, but you were set on toying with him for a bit.

“Ravkan and Fjerdan poeti- political relationships.” He had to stifle a cough after he felt the soft breeze of your breath hit his neck. You were close. Very close.

“Care for some company?” Nikolai’s eyes met yours as he considered the possibility of having you stay here. He would probably get nothing done, but he had the chance to finally make a move. That’s what he imagined, at least.

“Gladly.”

“Very well then.” That’s all you needed to hear before pulling out your own novel and sitting down in the chair right next to him.

As he had already suspected, he couldn’t even get through one page without allowing his eyes to wander towards you. And whenever he caught himself doing so, he had already forgotten what he had read only mere seconds before. He knew that you were quite literally just trying to read your book, but even that simple gesture made his heart beat a thousand times faster.

“Oh dear!” You uttered after taking a quick glance at the grandfather clock in the corner. “I’ve been in here for almost three hours! I should really leave you alone now, Nikolai. I still have a few duties to fulfil.” A faint chuckle left your lips, as you finished speaking, watching the man next to you gawk at the clock in disbelief. Three hours had passed, and he had neither finished any of his work nor managed to ask you out. Maybe he should allow Zoya to kill him. He supposed that death would be more welcoming than whatever little spiel fate had concocted for him.

There were two more instances of you absolutely giving him hell. And oddly, both of them included a territory that he should’ve had the upper hand in. The training grounds.

Nikolai wasn’t too keen on wasting any thought about sparring or other physical activities today. But staying inside the Palace would result in Zoya berating him about finally choosing a wife, so he preferred prancing around with a sword for a few hours.

However, his attention was promptly seized by hearing a burst of loud wholehearted laughter coming from the direction of the archery area. Without thinking, he allowed himself to take a look at whatever was going on over there.

He watched you talking to one of the archery instructors, a wide smile on your face as you excitedly listened to her while she explained something to you. You looked like some sort of mythical creature out of a folksong and he couldn’t help but smile at that thought.

Something inside him told him to move and before he could even start considering all of the negative outcomes of that thought, he already began walking towards you.

“Your Highness!” The woman next to you gave him a curt nod as she noticed him approaching. You felt a grin tug at the corners of your lips as you saw who she was greeting.

“Good afternoon, may I ask what is going on here?” Nikolai tried his best to not let his gaze wander over to you. He was sure that if he’d spend too much time looking at you, he would lose his capacity to form sentences again.

“I was just about to teach Lady Y/L/N how to properly shoot an arrow. She seems to be rather interested in the craft, but I sadly don’t have too much time today to show her everything.” The teacher rasped, letting her fingers run over the wooden part of the bow.

“As I mentioned earlier, I can also come back another ti-”

“I could show you.” Both of your gazes instantly flicked over to the young king, who was currently cursing himself for not being able to just shut up. Now he had to run with it.

“Are you sure?” You asked softly, raising an eyebrow to underline your question. “You don’t have to. I assume you’re terribly busy.”

“No, I, uhm, I insist.” He reassured, taking the bow from the instructor and signalling to her that he would take over now.

Only when he thought about what he was actually supposed to do, he started to realize what he had gotten himself into.

“Archery is a delicate skill.” He began, handing you the bow and arrow. “Everything stands and falls with how adept your aim is.” You took the arrow and adjusted it on the bowstring, imitating the posture you had seen many times before. Nikolai stood behind you, carefully monitoring your moves, whilst also trying not to get overwhelmed by your closeness. “Try to, you know, uhm, aim. Aim for the heart, I mean.” Saints, he sounded stupid.

“Like this?” You asked smugly, leaning back a bit closer to him and roughly pointing the arrow in the direction of the training puppet’s chest.

“No, you need- you have to-” He took a deep breath, stepping even closer to you now. “Look.” Both his hands found their way to yours. One helped you steady your grip on your bow, while the other corrected your aim ever so slightly. Your skin felt like lightning underneath his fingertips, and for a moment, he was glad that he could simply visualize his thoughts without having to embarrass himself by being a stuttering mess.

He pulled the arm that held onto the arrow back a bit, permitting you to shoot. However, he completely underestimated your proximity, especially the proximity to your elbows. Whether that was because of his lack of archery mentorship experience or simply because he was too focused on you was something he didn't want to answer. As soon as you let go of the arrow, your elbow flew back, right into his chest with full force, causing him to stumble backwards.

“Nikolai!” You yelped, cringing at the sight of the violently coughing blond behind you. This was not how any of you had hoped this would turn out. "Saints, are you alright!?"

“Good shot." He choked out as you hastily dropped the bow to help him stand. Against all odds, the arrow had gone straight into the centre of the target, however, you had other worries to tend to.

"Did I hurt you?" Your hands held on tightly to the fabric of his sleeves, fearing that one measly blow might have managed to knock the air right out of him.

"Fine. I mean, I'm fine." He sputtered, admittedly distracted by the feeling of your hands on his biceps. Your touch was practically scorching his skin without even having to make skin contact. He was definitely going insane.

"We really should stop making violence the climax of our interactions."

This wouldn't ring true, of course.

The next time you ventured down to the makeshift training grounds a few days later, you were met with the sight of Nikolai and Tolya practising their sword fighting skills. You kept an eye on them for a while before actually venturing down to the men.

It was as if Nikolai could sense your presence because as soon as you stepped closer to the platform, his gaze met yours. This brief distraction gave Tolya enough time to deliver one heavy swing to the base of his sparring partner's sword, disarming him in the blink of an eye.

Nikolai stared at the discarded sword and then back up at the Shu man in front of him. He rarely ever lost these kinds of duels, especially not because of some minor mistake like losing his focus. Things such as the size or competence of his opponent didn't matter substantially, since he had the advantage of being quick on his feet and the knowledge on how to outsmart the majority of his competition. Only losing because you were around seemed to be another act of fate telling him that he wasn't able to function properly when you were around.

"Lady Y/L/N." The mountain of a man greeted you happily, curtly shaking hands with Nikolai before walking off to bother his sister and her wife.

Again, the king seemed to have a frog stuck in his throat. He just couldn't get a word to leave his mouth. Instead, he continued to ogle at you with a hint of humiliation flashing over his features.

This time barely anyone could really blame him for that though. Your usually bright and well-put-together wardrobe, consisting of colourful dresses or professional-looking robes, we're now replaced by the suitable training attire one would expect a Lady to frown at.

Unable to string a coherent sentence together, he raised his eyebrows, vaguely motioning up and down your body with the hope that you would understand his unsaid question. Saints, he really felt stupid.

"Cat got your tongue, Nikolai?" You laughed, skipping up the stairs to face him properly. If your eyes weren't trying to deceive you, you could have sworn that he was blushing when you approached him. "Or did my utterly enchanting appearance simply take away your breath?" He gave you an unintelligible answer before just nodding in defeat.

“It’s just that, uhm, Lady- I mean, it’s just not wh-” He attempted futilely, but you were quick to cut him off.

“I know, I know. This flattering article of clothing is not really what people would expect me to wear. But I thought it would be nice to get some training done, or else my joints might begin to rust.”

“Training?” Nikolai blurted out, utterly bewildered. It wasn’t entirely unusual for the women at court to receive some sort of self-defence training - not all royal men were as decent as he was - but it was pretty unlikely for them to indulge in actual combat training.

“I used to sword fight with my older brothers whenever I had the time to do so. I’m not particularly good at it though.” That was a slight lie. You didn’t necessarily look the part, but in reality, you were talented when it came to dealing with a sword. However, that was a fact you’d rather keep to yourself, not wanting others to see you as brash or brutish.

“Oh.” He grinned, a new idea on how to get over his nervousness popped into his head. Maybe a nice little training session would do your relationship some good.

“Oh?”

“Do you, uhm, want me to- Would you like me to train with you?” He internally patted himself on the shoulder for finally managing to string together one mildly coherent sentence. And he could pat himself on the shoulder once more when he noticed the playful nature of your expression.

“If you dare.” You teased, picking up the discarded sparring sword off of the ground.

Both of you readied yourselves - you giving him a short bow before taking the position across from him. With the motion of a hand, he signalled to begin, being quick to do so.

His first move was bold, way too bold for it to actually be effective. You parried his blow with an agile countermove, warding him off strongly enough to force him to take a step back. This dance continued for a while longer, with only a few attacks actually coming from you, while you were mainly busying yourself with fighting off his advances.

There was one move you weren’t able to fight off.

He had only retracted his hand for a split second before he sprang forward again, a fierce blow disarming you immediately. However, that wasn’t the end of it. You could’ve still reached for the weapon, but he quickly blocked that move with his own, putting the unsharpened blade to your throat and pulling you against his chest. None of that was done with any real force, but his brashness still managed to catch you slightly off-guard.

You didn’t let allow him to bathe in his supposed victory any more than needed. If he wanted to play dirty, so could you. You cocked your head to the side just enough to face him. He was already slightly overwhelmed by you being pinned against his chest, so you knew that any sense of flirtatiousness coming from you, would make his brain go into shutdown.

It took you one cheeky wink to make him gape at you again. So without thinking about it, your foot slid behind his, abruptly bringing it forward to make him lose balance. He stumbled for a moment before clumsily falling backwards, however, also taking you down with him.

With a groan coming from Nikolai, you tumbled right on top of him, staying on his chest for a second to catch your breath. When you dared to open your eyes, your face was only inches from his. If either of you had decided to be especially bold, you would have probably finally put each other out of your self-imposed misery. However, neither of you dared to do so.

You barely saw him the following week. Which shouldn’t have been such a bad thing if the failed training session from the week prior wasn’t so engrained in both of your minds. You wanted to see him. No, you needed to see him. It was time to end your teasing spree - even though you did thoroughly enjoy it - and make the first move. Because Saints know whether Nikolai would ever have it in him to ask you out himself.

“Nikolai?” You cracked open the door to his sitting just enough to look inside. His eyes snapped to meet yours, the previous tiredness vanishing from his chestnut-coloured eyes. He gave you an inviting nod, and you accepted his offer gracefully.

“Lady Y/N- Lady- I mean-” He cut himself off, pinching the bridge of his nose before taking a deep breath. “Listen, I’m sorry, this, this is starting to get embarrassing. It’s just that-”

“I know.” You stopped him in his ramblings, only leaving him with a confused expression.

“You know?” He took a sharp breath, suddenly feeling as if a rug had been pulled from beneath his feet.

“You haven’t been that subtle over the last few weeks, so yes, Nikolai. I know that you have feelings for me.” You watched as his face went through at least a hundred emotions, ranging from relief to shock.

“Wait,” He paused, his brows furrowed and mouth slightly agape. “You were aware of my feelings the entire time?”

“That’s what I’m implying.” Now he genuinely felt like an idiot.

“You did all of that teasing on purpose?”

“Well, I wouldn’t really call it teasing. I was just waiting for you to make the first move.” You gave him a playful wink, sitting down at the edge of his desk right in front of him in a last act of riling him up. “But I figured that I didn’t want to wait until I’m old and wrinkly, so I might as well take matters into my own hand.”

“Take matters into-” You didn’t allow him to finish, instead pressing a brash kiss against his lips. This could either go terribly wrong or terribly right.

Thankfully, Nikolai was ready to answer this question. All of a sudden, all of his nervousness seemed to have vanished into thin air. With a swift move, he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you off the desk and into his lap whilst returning the kiss with even more urgency. He didn’t regret not making the first move now. At last, there were no words left to be said.

“Does that mean that I can finally stop wasting my time looking for your future bride?” Zoya called into the room, almost causing you to fall off of his lap. “I suppose they won’t be needed anymore.”

Taglist:

Grishaverse in general: @yesshewrites1 @dal-light

Nikolai Lantsov: @ell0ra-br3kk3r @kaye-here @maximoffgxrl

#nikolai lanstov x reader #nikolai lantsov imagine #nikolai lantsov #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone #grishaverse #grishaverse x reader

[white0x0rabbit]

French nicknames for all the Sanji lovers ~

Here's a guide to French nicknames so that your fanfictions are faithful to the French language and to our prince Sanji (●'◡'●)

AND DON'T YOU DARE USE GOOGLE TRANSLATION. Use DeepL!!! It's so much better!

A quick French lesson before we get started! In French, we don't have a third gender like English. There's the male and the female. She = Elle He = Il They = Ils Today, to represent the third gender, we use Ils (They), which is simply Il (he) in plural! The third gender/others are starting to be integrated with new neopronouns, but it's not very common. If you're interested, here's the wikipedia page! https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Iel_(pronoun)

✧*̥˚ From english to french *̥˚✧

my heart female, male, nb : mon coeur

my angel female, male, nb : mon ange

my dear female : ma chère male, nb : mon cher

my love female, male, nb : mon amour

my queen, my king female : ma reine male : mon roi nb : no translation :c

my princess, my prince female : ma princesse male : mon prince nb : no translation :c

my sun female, male, nb : mon soleil

my moon female, male, nb : ma lune

✧*̥˚ French nicknames *̥˚✧

Mon trésor (F, M, N) My treasure

Mon chou (F, M, N) It means cream puff, but can be translated as sweetie.

Mon lapin (F, M, N) My rabbit

Mon poussin (F, M, N) My chick

Mon canard (F, M, N) My duck

Ma beauté (F, N) my beauty / my beautiful

Mon sucre d’orge (F, M, N) (a bit fancy and corny, BUT I LOVE IT) My candy cane

Mon minou (F, M, N) Kittie

Mon loup (M, N) My wolf

Loulou (M, N) My wolf (more playful and childish, but common!)

mon rayon de soleil (F, M, N) my ray of sunshine

Mon précieux (M, N) My precious

If you want more, let me know! And if you need assistance translating your fanfiction, your dialogues… I'll be happy to help (ㆆᴗㆆ)

#sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x reader #sanji x y/n #vinsmoke sanji x y/n

[softpascalito]

Pedro Pascal Kinktober Day Twentytwo

Washing hair - Oberyn Martell/F!Reader

Summary: A few weeks after you and Oberyn begin to try conceiving and days before he leaves for Kings Landing, he finds you cooling down in the baths during a hot day.

Relationships: Oberyn Martell x F!Reader

WC: 1700

Tags/Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Mild Smut, Bathing/Washing, Hair Washing, Established Relationship, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Mentions of Pregnancy, Kissing, Female Reader, Oberyn Martell Lives, this turned into a fix it fic along the way

AO3 LINK

notes: this is a direct continuation of kinktober day eight - breeding. highly recommend reading that one first! :)

_________________________________________

It had been a few weeks since that night, since she had first tasted the red tea leaves that were supposedly going to help her conceive, that Oberyn had had shipped to Dorne for that sole reason. It hadn't been until the next day that he had admitted to her that he had ordered a large quantity of them and that, if she chose to, there would be enough for several months.

So, every night, next to her dinner, a steaming mug sat waiting for her.

Most nights, it was followed by Oberyn waiting for her in their chambers afterwards. Though there had been several occasions where he hadn't waited on their bed or balcony or even the baths. He had waited at the table in the dining quarters, sitting next to her, his hand on her thigh and his gaze fixed on her movements. He watched, ready to pounce, just like a viper. And he did.

As soon as she would get up, he would be there, by her side, leading her out of the dining room. She felt his gaze on him in those moments and they were both thinking the same way, causing them, more than once, to not even make it back to their chambers before giving it another try.

He had taken their conversation to heart, the way she had mentioned that it was a lot of pressure to “ be his ” and so he had made a point to not bring it up too much, never asking if it had taken or if she felt any different.

Still, the man had noticed that she hadn't mentioned bleeding in a while and maybe, just maybe, he hoped it could mean something had shifted.

Oberyn found himself wandering the palace on a hot summer midday. The sun had been shining relentlessly on Dorne for days now and despite the Southerners being used to heat, even they had started hiding from the sun in the afternoon, not wanting to get burned. While nothing compared to the water gardens with its many chances for one to cool down and wade through the shallow pools, there was a small, closed-in pool at the palace in Sunspear as well. The outer wall was missing, replaced by thick columns and a beautifully crafted balustrade. One could bathe while overlooking the sea but without being burned by the sun. Over the years, plants had grown up the walls and columns and spread over the once open beams of the ceiling. Now, the greenery served as protection from the heat, only occasionally letting one or two rays of direct sunshine filter into the small pool.

Oberyn could smell the spices that hung in the air, the scent mixing with that of the salty sea as he stepped into the shade around the pool. And there she was.

He smiled as he watched her. Her back towards him, her hair tied up on her head, her naked body glistening under the water that was completely still around her. He stood for a moment, simply admiring the scene before he approached, silently letting his shawl and pants fall to the floor. The prince let himself glide into the water and reached out to touch her. Just then, feeling the ripple from him moving behind her, she turned her head towards him. A small smile formed on her face, matching his own.

“Greetings.” She mumbled as he closed the distance between them, ”What is my little sun doing out here, all by herself?”

“Hiding from the big sun.” That earned her a small laughter from Oberyn, ”I see.” His arms came to lay around her waist, his lips quickly finding that spot on her neck that made her whimper softly.

“Tell me, are you teasing your prince?” It was her turn to smirk, ”I would not dream of it, your highness. I am quite sure that would be a rather … unhonorary offense in Dorne.”

“That is right.” Teeth scratched over her neck lightly and she let out a surprised gasp as Oberyn continued, ”I should have them lock you up for such an offense. Or at the very least, I should tie you up.”

She smiled again but this time, it didn't quite reach her eyes. Oberyn sighed at that, stopping the assault on her neck and he let her head fall back against his broad chest. She watched the sea they were facing, the waves far below them building and crashing in a never ending circle. How powerless the water must feel, she thought.

Oberyn's gaze was trained on her, watching the slight crease between her eyebrows that told him something was off.

“What is it, my love?” He asked quietly. He did not care for small talk or for sneakily trying to get something out of her. He wanted her trust. And if something was wrong, he expected to know.

She sighed, closing her eyes for a moment, ”I would rather not speak about it.” Her voice was quiet and soft and Oberyn felt like there was a small tremor in it.

One of his hands came up to her face, caressing her cheek, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw, ”And I would rather you did. Please tell me, my love.”

She opened her eyes again at that, slowly turning so that she was facing Oberyn. Almost automatically, he brought one strong arm under her to support her in the water, her legs wrapping around his hips. Their sexes were touching and at any other moment, the red viper would have made his move, slipped a hand onto her bundle of nerves or squeezed her round behind- but not now. He could feel that this was important to her and therefore, by extension, to him.

The woman took a deep breath, working up the nerve to say what she had not wanted to yet reveal, ”You're leaving for Kings Landing tomorrow.”

He gave a small nod, ”I am. It will be a rather boring trip, truly. A few council meetings, a wedding. Two events where every minute spent with the Lannisters will feel like one minute too much.”

Her gaze shifted slightly at that and he fell silent, sensing that this was not what she was referring to. She opened her mouth to speak but he was faster, ”You do not wish for me to leave.”

Oberyn's gaze softened slightly, ”Do you?”

Her mouth closed again as her gaze fell and she gave a small shake of her head, confirming his guess, ”No. I wish you would stay here.”

The viper took her face in for a moment, his free hand still gently caressing her cheek, ”I asked you a while back. You said it was alright with you if I left for a few weeks.”

He had had doubts too, never having been separated from her for so long. Even knowing that he left her in a safe place like Sunspear could not cancel out all the doubts he carried about leaving her alone.

“I thought-” He started once more but she cut him off.

“I think I'm pregnant.”

Oberyn stared at her, his eyes softening as a smile played around his lips, ”My sun, you-”

The legends that would speak of the Red Viper, of the prince of Dorne, of Oberyn Martell years and years later, would claim that he had never been speechless. They were wrong.

He was speechless now.

It took him a few moments to gather the words, his own voice now shaking slightly as he spoke, ”Are you certain?”

“I think so. I mean, I have never been before but- I have not bled in two moons,” she said quietly. His expression changed slightly, his smile faltering, ”Why do you not sound happy about it?”

“I am,” she quickly reassured him, ”I am, it is just-” Finally, she let the strong facade fall and as her shoulders slumped, tears sprang into her eyes, ”I am just so scared, Oberyn.”

His heart broke at the sight in front of him, her round eyes looking up at him with so much uncertainty in them, ��Is that why you did not tell me before?”

Her look was confirmation enough and he quickly pulled her closer, hugging her naked body. “Oh, my sun,” he whispered, ”You do not have to be afraid. I will take care of you. Of both of you. You are not alone in this nor will you ever be.”

She hiccuped softly, ”But you said-”

Oberyn shook his head softly, ”I will not go. I will stay here. With you.” His hand left her cheek and wandered to her stomach, gently caressing the curve of it, ” And with our little Martell. ”

She looked at him, her lip quivering slightly, ”Oberyn, you said it was important that you go to King's Landing. You said that because of Elia-”

“Shhhh,” he mumbled, his hand rubbing small circles into her skin, ”That was before. Besides, Elia would want me to stay. To take care of you.”

It became clear to her then, that Oberyn had lost a child before- two, in fact. Despite them not having been his own, they had been his sisters and that had meant they had been as good as his. He was never going to let the same thing happen to his little sun.

She nodded softly, raising her head to get a better look at him and Oberyn kissed her gently, using his hand to push a strand of dark hair behind her ears as he smiled at her, “Come here. Let me take care of you.”

He reached for the soap bar that was resting on a small plate at the side of the pool, rubbing it over her hair for a moment before he placed it back in its spot and brought both hands to her head, massaging it gently.

Oberyn washed her hair and told her about his plans for the future. The things he would buy for the baby before it even saw the light of day, the things he had already ordered to hopefully lessen her discomfort during the pregnancy, the things he wanted to teach their child, the books he wanted to read to them to put them to sleep.

She smiled, listening to his plans for their future as he rinsed her hair.

It didn't seem so scary anymore.

#kinktober #fanfic #pedro pascal #light smut #oberyn martell x you #prince oberyn #oberyn martell / you #oberyn martell / reader #oberyn martell x reader #game of thrones #pregnancy #hurt/comfort

[aetherhollowarchive]

The Aetherhollow Archive is a steampunk romance soaked in a gallon of magic. It is set in Summersmead, the fictional empire from the book you are sucked into. 

Four hundred years after the Chosen One failed to save their world, you find yourself in the shoes of the presumed, and freshly murdered, villain of the story - ostentatiously called Sovereign. You embark on a journey to unfold the mysteries of this new world and find a way home. But with your killer lurking in the shadows, who can you trust?

Genre: Steampunk, Fantasy, Romance, Mystery. Warnings: This story will be rated 18+ for depictions of death, violence, strong language, sexual themes, alcohol consumption, blood, etc. DEMO - Chapter 1, 23 October 2023

Fully customizable MC.

Uncover Sovereign’s murderer.

Help the Chief of Police save the citizens from a mysterious drug.

Deal with the air pirates and their insufferable leader!

Fight an automaton army!

While you might be going slightly mad, too.

Fix (or destroy) the world. No pressure.

Six romance options (1 NB male, 2F and 3M - one straight).

Romance Options

Elian “Eli” Cabello -  the Hero [NB, he/they] ???

The new dashing hero of the story. As the younger sibling of the late Chosen One, Eli has the best motive to have killed Sovereign. Leader of the rebellion and with a knack of putting themselves in danger, will they come to finish the job?

Face claim: Miguel Angel Silvestre

Keyon Dalgliesh - the Advisor [M] ???

Sovereign’s trusted advisor and confidant. Keyon is an all-knowing (if not all-wise) polymath, well-versed in history, science and several languages. He can come off as a bit of a snob, but he might just be the only person who had Sovereign’s back. But will he consider you an impostor? 

Face claim: Tom Hiddlestione’s Loki

Rae Fairburne - the Mercenary [F] 25

The scruffy mercenary Sovereign signed a contract with right before dying. Cold-hearted and opportunist, Rae is top on the list of enemies, but she does not seem to care much for neither the politics nor the city. Could she have a better offer for your head?

Face claim: Cara Gee’s Camina Drummer

Blythe Haywarde - the Inventor [F] 27

The brilliant Inventor Sovereign was sponsoring. She spends most of her time in the workshop tower, tinkering and creating all sorts of devices, and obsessively cleaning her tools. As gentle a soul as you can find, Blythe seems to care more about the strays she saves than the world outside. Could a killer hide underneath the doe-like eyes?

Face claim: Anna Diop

Thane Winthrope - the Guard [M, straight] 34

The new head of the Guard. Stoic and built like a brick wall, Thane is a man of few words. He has recently been promoted following the death of many palace soldiers. You feel his eyes follow you everywhere, but that’s just his duty as your newly appointed bodyguard. Right? 

Face claim: Sebastian Stan

Alder - Pirate king [M] 38 Flirty and boisterous, the king of the air pirates seems like a ray of sunshine on a first glance. You really don’t want to get on his bad side, the man is positively unhinged. Face claim: Tom Hardy

Other notable characters:

Angelica Cabello - The Chosen One [F] 32, deceased

Eli’s sister and former Chosen One. She had been sent on a journey to save their dying planet by an ancient prophecy. Angelica was betrayed and murdered at the end of the expedition by one of her companions who named themself Sovereign and took the promised power.

Face claim: Frankie Adams

Carling Powlett - Chief of police [F] 50

Madam Powlett is the long standing chief of Summersmead Police Department. She cares less for the nobility, but keeps an extra eye out for the less fortunate. She never hid her distaste for Sovereign. 

Face claim:  Shohreh Aghdashloo

Gytha - The Maid [F] 2

The clockwork maid Sovereign commissioned some two years prior. She’s soft spoken and delicate for an automaton, with an amazingly realistic porcelain face. She also makes incredible good tea.

DEMO  :  TBA  |  CHARACTER SHEET  |  LORE TBA  |  MUSIC  |

#intro post #The Aetherhollow Archive #interactive fiction #romance #steampunk #but with a little magic #twine if #twine wip #no demo #The Aetherhollow Archive IF #IF game #IF wip #steampunk if

[yandere-sins]

The Knight’s Squire

Day 1! And it’s an original :D Just prefacing this by saying I think history is a bit to male-centric so this time we have an actual female, buff, strong Darling!Knight and a Yandere!Squire. I know all of you want me to write more subs, so... I hope you’ll enjoy it. And yes, I am aware about who else is named Alec. He was an inspiration even though I didn’t particularly like the story he comes from. So I am making my own lol. Also I did my research. Please check out @sintember if you want to join the challenge!

Fandom: Original Content Pairings: M!Yandere!Squire (Alec) x F!Darling!Knight (Reader) Warnings: Yandere, Sexual Themes, Mention of War/Death/Bloodshed (off-screen), Masturbation, Obsessive Behavior, Dirty Talk, Cum Play, Mention of Arranged Marriages/Marriage of Convenience

Prompt: Obsession - Love? Hate? Lust? Fear? Worship? Whatever the case, it’s all they can think about.

»»———————— ♡ ————————««  

There were many enticing benefits to becoming a knight.

One, you were respected, feared, revered. Gaining an honorable amount of appreciation from both those above and below you. You got to go on adventures, were gifted estates and lands, enjoy banquets, and install fear in those that wronged you and the people you protected. All for the small price of life-long training, submission to your lord, and the occasional war to attend.

On a scale, it was a well-balanced position between riches and bloodshed. One that you very much enjoyed, though for a much simpler reason.

For you, benefit number two was simply getting away from your family. From expectations and duties that you didn't want to have on you. If you were to become someone greater than a knight, you wanted it to be on your own terms and not because your family had a title of nobility or was marrying you off to god-knows-who to strengthen their hold in society. You wanted to accomplish things on your own, and knighthood, bolstered only by training and living together with your fellow warriors, was the way you chose for yourself.

Skipping ranks came easily to you as you kept improving yourself over the years—the sword lessons you demanded in your youth paid off fairly quickly—and though you were still young by comparison, you earned the respect of your fellow knights as their teacher and commander. That rank even soothed your family's anger over you leaving them, and all was good and well.

Things could have gone on like this for the rest of your life, even if the occasional war threatened you with death and pain. But no training, studies, or even riches could have prepared for one meddling component in this seemingly glorious life of yours. And naturally, at the end of the day, it was your family that would gamble with the life that you so carefully built for years.

Alec was not a young boy when he became your squire, and you never did figure out why your family demanded of you to take a squire that wasn't in need of being raised. In fact, he was barely younger than you by a few years, yet, not old enough to advance. Amongst the many scarred fighters and poor entourage they kept with them, he was a ray of sunshine. Too pretty to be a mere page, he almost seemed to belong more to a king's court than on the battlefield. He brought a respectable amount of knowledge with him when you finally relented and took him under your wing. However, when you asked, he never seemed to want to talk about his past, neither his family nor his training. It was a quickly forgotten topic, though, as his performance was much to your liking. He always seemed to be one step ahead of you, having readied your horse or prepared a bath before you could ask for it, presenting it to you with a never-wilting smile. Alec would even go out of his way to massage your feet after a long day, and when you asked him to join you for a nightcap, he never declined.

Before you knew it, he was a friend rather than a servant, sharing your woes and victories.

But that was all he was.

You had long decided on who to spend the rest of your life with when you were ready to settle, even against your parents' wishes. And you were convinced you'd be fine with your brother in arms you chose, your union bringing a lot of good for your families as well. Even if you two didn't talk about it out in the open, the rumors had spread already, and you didn't dismiss them as much as you probably should have. You'd marry a fellow knight, and that was final, but at times, you thought you caught Alec giving you yearning glances and longing sighs, only for you to ignore them. You wouldn't need a lover to warm your bed, and his training was almost over as well. Satisfied with his overall performance, you planned on raising him into knighthood afterward.

But it seemed, the closer the days came to his advancement and your retirement, the more his fingers itched to be closer to you.

Ignoring helped, but it meant you still noticed. The sheer effort he put into your care was proof enough that he wasn't just driven by the desire to serve as a squire. He had much, much darker goals, an obsession, it seemed.

"Good work," you praised the other squires and pages as they passed you by after the battle, tending to their own lords in their ways. You had won, and the celebration had been grand, so even the young ones were eager to finish their duties and enjoy their nights. Even though you weren't one to call it a night early, that day you were still plagued with the aftermath of weapons crashing into your armor, the iron rattling through your brain as your enemies tried to sever your head from your shoulders. It never got boring, but fighting hasn't changed ever since you were a young teen yourself in terms of intensity. Now, you were definitely ready to settle and raise a family. You'd gladly forgo being hit over the head with swords in the future and having the sound echo through you for the next few days while you tried to survive.

"M'lady…"

The sound of Alec's voice made you halt in your tracks. You had been wondering where he went after serving wine to you back at the celebration, but being just inches away from pushing your tent's flap to the side to settle in for the evening, you now knew. Just what was he doing in there, addressing you when you weren't even around?

Listening closely, the strangest cacophony of whimpers and sighs reached you. Sounds you had never heard from Alec, your squire who didn't even complain after carrying your whole suit of armor through pouring rain or piercing snow. "M'lady won the battle. You were so fucking beautiful. I want to be the horse you ride into the next one, M'lady…"

Making a double take, you thought for a moment he was telling you all that directly to your face until you remembered you were still outside the tent, quiet as a, well, mouse, eavesdropping. It wasn't your way of doing things. You always made your presence known, let others bask in your glory or shudder in fear at your sight. But Alec's words slowly sunk in, and you felt a false sense of shame wash over you even though you didn't do anything wrong.

You certainly didn't teach him to speak like that. But you couldn't talk for the other knights who swore like their families' pride meant nothing to them. Behind the flap serving as an entrance to your tent, Alec grew louder and bolder, just as the music from the bards and the boisterous laughter of the victorious knights filled the area. Gulping, you realized you were the only one witnessing this, yet you only knew what you were hearing. Part of you wanted to believe it was much different from what you were thinking, but hooking your finger around the flap, you slowly pulled it to the side, risking a glance inside.

On top of your bed, his pants pooling around his knees and his shirt caught between his teeth, Alec kneeled before your breastplate. From your position, you saw more of his back than front, but still a little bit of his side profile to watch him heatedly slide his hand over his cock. Ample buttcheeks and a well-endowed package, your squire was a beautiful sight, with refined muscles on flawless skin. How he managed to endure the training with so few scars was beyond you, but he looked more like a concubine than a squire.

Letting out a long, almost pained groan, he hovered over your breastplate, his hips snapping forward and into his hand feverishly, unaware of the eyes watching him. "M'lady…" he moaned again, and you had a hard time looking away, fascinated by the subtle blush on his cheeks, the adoration gleaming in his eyes. "Let me draw you a bath, I'll wash you! I'll do anything for you! Please–"

His sentence was cut off by himself as a joyful gasp lilted from his lips. For a moment, he tensed up, looking at the tent's ceiling vaguely illuminated by candles. Stilling, you had no idea what was going on in his head, but even from your position, you could see his lips curl into a grin, the thoughts in his mind pleasing him greatly, it seemed. "Use me," he begged under his breath.

"Make me pick up your things while you watch me! I want to clean your sweaty laundry! I'll warm your bed if you tell me to! Fuck… anything, M'lady. Ask me to lick your feet, service you with my mouth, fingers, cock—it's all yours. Just yours, M'lady! M'lady!"

And with the last word off his lips, he convulsed, shaking with his orgasm. The fast and rough strokes he did after announcing his desires caused long, white streaks to coat your breastplate. He panted so hard that his whole body seemed to emit steam in the early winter night from how heated he had gotten. But it took a while for his hips to come to a halt, his body semi-collapsing on top of your armor, and a blissful expression on his face, eyelids closing and opening slowly. With his finger, he began smearing his jizz on top of the iron and doodling little shapes on top of it.

Then he began his descent back into reality from whatever kind of dream he had just lived through. Climbing off your bed, he held the plate between his legs, fishing for a rag he had placed on the bedside table. Grabbing his cock, he made sure to smear even the last few drops from his tip onto the surface, whistling as he began wiping his cum all over your armor, polishing it to a shine. You had always been complimented for your prime appearance ever since taking Alec in. But you never knew this was his secret to a perfect finish.

Done and satisfied with his work, he brought the breastplate to his lips, kissing it with a loud smooch and confessing, "I love you so much, M'lady. You're the best."

At this, you knew it was your time to disappear. From shame or not to be found staring at your squire pleasuring himself to the thought of you, the reason had no weight in this. You just had to go, quickly! As Alec pulled up his pants, he stopped, blinking as he looked up, and you acted before he could see you, letting the flap fall close and marching off as fast as you could. All of this seemed like a fever dream, and maybe you had collapsed on the battlefield and were imagining things. You thought he might have a little crush on you, but this seemed to have gone beyond any sane amount of affection towards his mentor or thankfulness for all you ever did.

Wandering back and forth, you thought about how to address this when an all-too-familiar voice tore you out of your thoughts. "M'lady?" Alec called out to you, and you flinched harder than you had in years. No one had managed to sneak up on you since you were a wee squire yourself, but here you were. In a moment of confusion, you did the one thing you had mastered to do without overthinking it: barking orders.

"Alec! You are needed at the fire! Go serve drinks and help the knights, now!"

His eyes widened before he nodded, but you noticed the grin creeping over his lips for the first time, barely hidden behind appropriate composure. "Yes, M'lady!" he agreed cheerfully, bounding by you and towards the communal area you sent him. Did he enjoy that? Commands? Doing as you said? What were you thinking… you just heard him tell the you he imagined as he jacked off to it how much he liked it. God, you were fucked. He was such a good squire, an upstanding and hardworking young person on the way to greatness. But this was threatening to ruin his career. There were a lot of decisions to be made once you made it back home. And you needed to clean your armor—all of it, just to be sure.

To think you've been going around with his semen smeared all over your things…

And that was only the beginning of it all.

#sintember 2022 #Yandere Squire #Yandere!Squire #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere fanfiction #yandere writing #yandere stories #yandere oneshots #yandere oneshot #yandere drabble #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #Yandere TW #OW

[liaromancewriter]

La Vie Avec Toi

Premise: When it comes to love, these couples know it’s about every moment of every day.

Book: Open Heart (post series) Pairings: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine); Sienna Trinh x M!OC (Max Valentine) Rating/Category: Teen. Fluff. Words: 1,785

A/N: Submission for @choices-february2023, day 18 prompt "romance; @choicesflashfics wk 19, prompt 2 (in bold); @choicesholidays Valentine's Day prompt 2 (in bold); @choicesmonthlychallenge To Be prompt "sweet" ps. I imagined part 2 and 3 of this fic happening this past weekend.

Part 1: Cassie & Max

The music that filled the air was dreamy and romantic. A fire crackled in the fireplace, its flames casting shadows on the cream-colored walls. Outside, it was cold and snowy; inside, it was warm and golden.

The flaxen-haired king took his beautiful queen’s hand, pulled her into his arms, and they started to sway. He spun her around and around, the skirt of her dress flaring in a dance of its own. Her joyous laughter filled the air as he gripped her hand, twirled her away and then reeled her back into his arms.

She looped her arms around his neck, her body fitting perfectly against his, and closed the distance between their lips. It was a sweet kiss full of promise and love. And when he dipped her low, his strong hand sweeping along the curve of her waist, bracing her, it was a picture-perfect moment.

Cassie Valentine watched her parents dance around the living room, and her young heart longed for a love so strong it made every day, every moment romantic.

She should be asleep; it was late and a school night. But she’d awakened from a strange dream and heard the laughter and music. She quietly padded down the dark hallway to the landing with a banister that overlooked the living room.

Knowing she would get into trouble if anyone saw her, she lay on her stomach, resting her chin on folded hands.

Her parents had been cuddling on the couch, drinking wine from fancy glasses, talking and laughing. When the music changed, she saw her dad stand and formally bow as he took her mom’s hand.

And then they were dancing, and Cassie forgot about being discovered as she got swept up in the romance.

When she felt the air shift around her, she knew it was her twin brother Max. He hadn’t made a sound—something he was good at—and joined her on the floor, mirroring her pose.

“Why are you spying on mom and dad?” he whispered in her ear.

“Because they’re so beautiful together,” Cassie murmured, her heart full of yearning. “Someday, I’m going to have what they have.”

“Not me,” Max countered stubbornly. “Kissing gives you cooties.”

She ignored the comment and the gagging noises Max made. She loved her brother, but there was no denying that boys were stupid. They had no appreciation for romance, Cassie thought in annoyance.

As she continued to watch from her hiding place, she sighed dreamily. Someday.

Part 2: Cassie & Ethan

An arctic snap had the country in its grip, the sharp rays of the sun piercing the pristine blue sky deceptive in their promise of warmth. After Miami's heat and sandy beaches, the return to New England felt like being doused in an ice bath.

Ethan Ramsey turned away from the view outside and thought he wouldn’t want to be anywhere but here. The condo’s walls were still unfamiliar; they had moved in just a couple of months ago. But it was already home. One that he and Cassie were making together.

The music drifting from the Bluetooth speaker was cheerful, full of sunshine and rainbows. It matched the mood in the sunlit kitchen inside the beautiful condo facing Boston’s waterfront.

He cast a furtive glance at his wife, humming along with the tune, her hips shimmying to the rhythm, while she chopped vegetables for a stir fry.

Ethan smiled inwardly that once upon a time, he wouldn’t be caught dead listening to syrupy pop. He chuckled, imagining someone somewhere laughing at how the mighty had fallen.

“What’s so funny?” Cassie asked, not looking up from her task.

“Just wondering how I got here with Taylor Swift playing in the kitchen instead of Puccini,” he grinned, strolling into the kitchen.

She angled her head when he wrapped his arms around her from behind. He nuzzled her neck and lightly bit the edge of her ear lobe before soothing the sting with his tongue. Her hand on the knife handle wavered, and he knew she was as affected as he was by the small gesture.

“I hate to break this to you, babe, but that’s not Taylor Swift,” Cassie grinned up at him, her lips grazing his jaw. “But you get an A for effort.”

“Lucky me,” he said sarcastically with an exaggerated eye-roll. He kissed the side of Cassie’s head, and then he turned away to open the refrigerator. “I’ll get started on the chicken.”

He reached inside to take out the container in which the chicken was marinating. When he closed the door, he found Cassie on the other side, leaning against the counter, arms folded across her chest.

“So this is what they mean.” Her green eyes narrowed to slits. “Put a ring on it, and then it’s ‘Can you pick up milk on your way home?’ and ‘I’ll get started on the chicken.’ Where’s the romance and grand passion, Dr. Ramsey?”

“Cooking together isn’t romantic?” he asked, confused, carefully setting the container on the counter. “Because that’s not what you said in the past.”

“That’s not what I meant,” she countered, disgruntled.

For a minute, he thought she was angry. But then he saw the twinkle in her left eye, a dead giveaway for when she was teasing him. Time to give Cassie a taste of her medicine.

“It doesn’t matter if you didn’t mean it. You still said it.” Ethan kept his tone grim, pretending hurt and annoyance, and secretly enjoyed the remorse gathering on her face.

Before she could react, he tugged her into his arms, placed two fingers on her chin to tilt her face up and covered her mouth. His tongue darted inside to duel with hers, coaxing a response, while his hands cupped her ass.

“How’s that for passion?” He retorted once he let her go.

Cassie sniffed dismissively, but a playful grin hovered on her lips. “Keep going.” She tapped one finger on her lips in invitation. “I’ll let you know when you get it right.”

She batted her eyelashes at him coquettishly. “Unless you’d rather romance the chicken instead?”

Ethan framed her face between his hands and leaned his forehead against hers. “You broke through every wall I had. How can I resist you now?” He kissed the tip of her nose. “The chicken can wait. I’d rather romance my wife.”

“Right answer!”

And then he was kissing her, or she was kissing him. Either way, they agreed they needed a lot of practice to get it right.

Part 3: Max & Sienna

Storm clouds gathered on the horizon, bringing with them the threat of rain. The night sky above the Potomac was never truly dark as city lights sparkled in the distance. A gusty wind rattled the windows, the occasional howling more suited to Halloween than February.

Inside the Georgetown apartment, a fire crackled in the fireplace, its red and orange glow warming the room. The low, soft sound of plaintive Blues music floated through the air, the sultry melody enhancing the intimacy of the scene.

Sienna Trinh was stretched out on the couch, her back resting on her husband’s lap while her head leaned against the couch arm. His legs were stretched out in front of him, socked feet propped on the Ottoman.

She scanned a journal article about RSV on her tablet and enjoyed how his fingers played with the edges of her hair. She didn’t think Max even noticed the absentminded gesture, engrossed as he was in his book.

As much as Sienna loved entertaining and going out on the town with Max, she cherished the quiet evenings they spent at home. Quiet companionship, content to be near each other even if they were doing their own thing.

Their relationship had grown long distance. It took living together for Sienna to realize how important physical touch was to them. Holding hands, arms wrapped around each other, foreheads touching, and his intoxicating kisses.

When she read the same sentence for the fifth time, Sienna knew her mind wasn’t on medicine. She set the tablet down and, as she had often done in the last few weeks, lifted her left hand to stare at the beautiful engagement ring and wedding band.

She peeked at Max’s right hand and the matching band she’d placed in an intimate wedding ceremony before Christmas. Once his cast came off the next week, she was looking forward to transferring it to his left ring finger, where it belonged.

There were times when she couldn’t believe it was real. And then she’d look at the symbols of their commitment to each other and know everything was as it should be.

Almost everything, she giggled. After all, their wedding night had been postponed because of his accident.

“Care to share the joke?” Max asked, marking his place with a bookmark before putting the book down on the end table.

“I really want to kiss you,” Sienna replied, a smile hovering on her lips.

“And that’s funny because…?” He quirked one eyebrow.

“I don’t want to stop at just a kiss. And, unfortunately, we can’t go further until you get the all-clear,” she explained.

She sat up, curled her legs under her and nestled against his side. Still smiling, she tilted her head back to meet his disgruntled gaze.

“That’s not a comedy,” he pouted. “It’s a frigging tragedy of Shakespearian proportions.”

Sienna burst into laughter at the peeved look on his face.

“I’m glad my predicament amuses you,” he muttered.

“You’re unbelievably cute when you’re grumpy,” she said, peppering kisses along his jaw.

The stubble tickled her lips. She blushed as she wondered how it would feel against the sensitive skin of her inner thighs.

“Cute, huh? Sure, let’s go with that,” he smirked, making it clear he knew exactly what was going through her brain. “Clearly, my cuteness makes you blush.”

Before Sienna could retort a comeback, his hand cupped her chin, closing the distance between them; his mouth stopped a breath away from hers.

His green eyes glinted with determination, and he teased her lips, tracing the seam with his tongue until she parted for him.

But he didn’t kiss her, content to tease and tantalize. The amusement on his face told Sienna it was on purpose.

“Just kiss me already,” she almost shouted in frustration.

Before she could get the words out, he was kissing her. His lips were hard and demanding, and Sienna’s passion matched his own. She locked her hands around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair, and held on as he deepened the embrace.

Before she lost herself in the romance of the moment, Sienna's last thought was that Max was an expert kisser. And he was all hers.

------

All Fics & Edits: @a-crepusculo @annfg8 @bluebelle08 @choicesaddict5 @coffeeheartaddict2 @crazy-loca-blog @doriopenheart @genevievemd @headoverheelsforramsey @lucy-268 @jamespotterthefirst @jerzwriter @lady-calypso @mainstreetreader @mysticalgalaxysstuff @openheartforeverinmyheart @peonierose @takemyopenheart @potionsprefect @queencarb @quixoticdreamer16 @rookiemartin @socalwriterbee @tessa-liam @trappedinfanfiction @vi-writes-stuff @zahrachoices

Submissions: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics @lovealexhunt

Ethan & Cassie only: @cariantha @custaroonie @hopelessromantic1352 @mrs-ramsey

Max & Sienna only: @aallotarenunelma @storyofmychoices

#open heart #choices open heart #open heart fanfics #open heart fanfiction #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #sienna trinh #sienna trinh x oc #writers on tumblr #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week #choicesfebruary2023 #choices fanfics #choices fanfiction #ethan ramsey x cassie valentine #sienna trinh x max valentine

[calekinnieplus]

It is time to sleep and also time to recount what I've read today. I have read quite a bit today as well. 6 ½ hours. Not bad, right? Heh. I've reached chapter 673 and my reading app says I've read 48% of the novel. Very encouraging! ...or not. I won't be able to finish it this month, it seems. Pity. Either way, it's recap time!

The best news first! Sequence 5!! Our boy is a Nimblewright Master! He's a powerhouse! After all that hard work, we see results! He's on the threshold of demigod, oh wow. It's actually insane. And the corresponding abilities are also terrifying. On the surface they're scary, but used by our sharp, experienced Klein, I can't help but feel pity for his enemies.

Next, what also intrigued me was the appearance of Queen Mystic, Bernadette! Really didn't expect her to have had a hand in Gehrman Sparrow's fake identity. And all the other stuff was also surprising. Like, in no way would I have connected new Tarot Club member, The Hermit, Admiral of Stars Cattleya's teacher and mentor with the only other transmigrator Emperor Roselle's daughter, Bernadette. It just seems to be a part of two different stories. And she figured out who Hero Bandit Dark Emperor was, too! She's quite smart. I like her

The third thing I wanted to talk about was the whole night and dream world that happened in the... Sonia Sea, I believe? I can't remember the actual name. Where the mermaids are. Anyway, that whole thing is so... mysterious and historical, to some extent, my gut says we might return here later. Like, the similarities between this "world" and the Forsaken Land of the Gods make me raise an eyebrow, ya know?

But honestly, idk if it's because I'm unfamiliar with Chinese novels or if that's just the way LOTM is, but my predictions don't really seem to work 8 out of 10 times lol. It's great, it keeps me on my toes lmao

Fourth thing! Derrick’s exploration into Afternoon Town! We actually learned about another King of Angels and some snippets that could be clues to the downfall of the Kingdom of Silver. Like, initially when we got into it, I was more impatient to get back to Klein’s storyline, but then shit went down, and I got completely sucked in lmao. Like?? I commend Derrick’s bravery and knowledge to deal with that situation properly. The fact that he's also not as naive as before is also very enjoyable for me. It doesn't make my heart wince in discomfort when I realize he made a decision that could have horrible consequences later. It's not his fault. His circumstances are shitty, yet he's still a ray of sunshine. But! I gotta say, I'm so proud of the fact that he's learning from his mistakes. He's so lovely. I hope the City of Silver will get out of their miserable situation.

Moving on, I gotta talk a lil bit about unlucky Anderson! Honestly, the fact that he survived his ordeal would make him the luckiest of his crew, I suppose. His personality is so funny tho lmao. Whenever Klein’s Gehrman persona is paired up with a chatty person, I am thoroughly entertained hehe. The dynamic is just hilarious! Also, I gotta admit, at first I was as sus of Anderson as Klein was lol. He really had to start off the interaction with a joke that could be horribly misunderstood, huh? Poor guy lmao

Hmmm what else... oh yeah! Frank Lee! Funnily enough, right before his introduction, I saw a post about him and something about milk, with comments being like "I can never look at milk the same way again" and I was so confused. Until the milk scene. BAHAHAH he's so INSANE, what a madlad. And they call GEHRMAN crazy. Like, if it was just some crazy thoughts, sure. A lot of people have crazy thoughts. But that crazy f*cker is actively experimenting, on a boat in the middle of the sea, with his crewmembers as... test subjects to some degree?? I did Not expect him to be like That, LMAO

Well. A lot of unexpected things happen in this novel, I noticed.

And uhhhh yeah, this seems like most of what I wanted to chat about.

Side note, I was scrolling on tiktok and stumbled on a slideshow with the last scene from volume 1, the one where after Klein... "woke up" (revived), he automatically headed to Daffodil Street - home. But unable to go back there, he went and bought a ticket to Backlund. While waiting, he was struck with the need to see his siblings one last time, realizing that's the reason he took a ticket for such a late time. And there he went, stealing a glance at the people he cares about. Seeing them grieve him. After watching on helplessly, he got an idea. The siblings saw a clown running towards them, with colorful face paint. He had a Chrysanthemum, which represented happiness. All they saw... was a happy smile, an exaggerated smile, a ridiculous smile...

AH MAN, I BAWLED LIKE A BABY AGAIN WHEN I WAS READING IT EARLIER TODAY. LIKE, GIVE ME A BREAK, MAN T^T

Yeah. *cough* until next time!

Praise the Fool!

#vertigone rambles #lotm #lord of the mysteries #binging lotm #lotm volume 3 #lotm spoilers #klein moretti #gehrman sparrow

[hitchell-mope]

The key is in the ashes.

#locke & key #rendell locke #ray of f**king sunshine

[guineapigloon]

Ain't i just a ray of f**king sunshine?

#guinea pig #guinea pic #pet costume #pets #guinea pig cuteness #guinea pig in costume #guineapigs #cavy #cavylife

[slavicdelight]

HIRAETH

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Targ! Royce! f! reader

Summary: Hiraeth - A Welsh word meaning a homesickness for a home to which you cannot return; a home which maybe never was. Nostalgia, yearning, and grief, for the lost places of your past or a sense of home.

Warnings: blood, murder, violence, angst, canon divergence

A/N: This is part 2 of EPHEMERAL

ღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღ

You awoke to the sound of crashing outside your chambers. Looking at the other side of the bed, you noticed that Aemond wasn’t there and the spot he occupied is cold, which means he has been gone for a while now. You stretched your arms and decided to get up to check the sound, only to find out that the doors were closed and you couldn’t get out. With a scowl, you tried to pry the entrance open, and when that didn’t work you banged on the wood and called out for help. The loud noise woke your daughter up as she started crying for attention, and you decided to stop your efforts and comfort her. “Good morning my dear girl.” you greeted Alysanne while picking her up from the cradle. “Oh, I’m sorry to have woken you little dragon. Did you sleep fine?” you asked and rocked her back and forth to calm her. When she opened her violet eyes to look at you, the love overcame you even stronger, she was your miracle, you didn’t know earlier that you could love someone as much as you did her. Nothing is equal to a mother’s love. You were so mesmerized by her, that you weren’t aware of the door opening and your husband walking in. Aemond stood in the doorway looking at you both, his heart warming up at the picture in front of his eye. You, his beloved wife, looked ethereal as always. The rays of sunshine, that burst through the window made the skin on your face glowing, and your attire added to the notion of thinking you an angel. Seeing you holding Alysanne, the epitome of the love you both share, made the sight even more beautiful. He slowly walked closer and placed his hands around your waist, making you jump a little.

“Aemond! You have frightened me!” you scolded him, turning to stand with him face to face. “I am extremely sorry, my love. It was not my intention.” he apologised with a faint smile, but the tone of his voice made you worried. There was something tense in it, and you wondered if it had anything to do with you being held in the room. “What’s wrong?” you asked him, making him sigh. He took the little girl from your arms, placing her back in the cradle, much to her protests, and led you to sit on the bed. You complied and waited eagerly for his answer, which he provided in an uneasy voice. “King Viserys is dead.” you sucked in your breath. The news wasn’t exactly unpredictable, but it still caught you off guard. While the king didn’t pay you much attention growing up, he was still your uncle, your blood, and that made you somewhat sad. “Oh.” was the only thing that left your mouth, as you were processing what you just learned, but your husband wasn’t done yet. “Apparently, he wished for Aegon to succeed him.” and with that your head whipped around to look at him so fast, that one could thing you broke the neck. This was new, as for years Viserys did nothing, but defend Rhaenyras claim to the throne and her position as heir, neglecting his other children in turn. Aegon as king was a bizarre thought. You also saw the distaste in Aemond’s features once he shared the news, everyone at court knew he detested his brother for everything he put him through as a child, and for being a useless waste of space. “I’m so sorry Aemond.” you told him, grabbing one of his hands to squeeze in a comforting manner. “For what? We all knew it would happen sooner or later.” you got up to stand before him and looking straight into his eyes you said “Yes, but he was still your father. You’re allowed to mourn for him” he stood up angrily and turned away to look into the burning flames in the fireplace

“He never noticed me. He never noticed any of us. It was always Rhaenyra for him. It was af if we were not his children, more like distant relatives he only had to see once in a while. He was no father to me. Criston Cole was more of a father than he was.” you walked to him and hugged his back, placing you chin on his shoulder. “What’s done is done. We need to get ready for our duties and coronation of a new king.” he said turning to you and kissing you on your forhead. In that moment a servant appeared and told your husband that his grandsire wished to see him. That left you alone in the chamber and you decided to call the maids to dress you and Alysanne for the day, as you were planning to check on Helaena and see how she was holding up. You chose one of your many beautiful sapphire gowns with long sleeves and dragons embroidered on the skirt, it was a gift from Aemond. The color resembles the eye he hides under the eyepatch. You also own a big collection of sapphire jewellery, the common folk taken to calling you and your husband the Sapphire Prince and Princess.

You sat with Heleana as the children played together with the maids watching over them. “How are you feeling, Hel? With the pressure of being crowned queen soon enough.” you asked your friend. “There is a beast beneath the boards.” she muttered, but quickly recvered to ansewr your question. “To speak truthfully, I don’t know. I never wanted the crown, all I wish for is spending time with my children, away from all these schemes and politics.” she said in a sad voice. You reached over to take her hand, which she accepted. It was known that Helaena did not like touching, but you were her sister, her dearest friend, and for that reason you were the exception. “I’m sorry about all of this. It shouldn’t have been your burden to carry.” it was a pity that she was married to Aegon, he didn’t deserve her. Soon Queen Alicent came to join you for tea and the three of you tried to forget about what was to come, if only for a little while.

time skip

It was time to crown the new king. You, Aemond, and Helaena stood in the Dragon Pit, watching people flooding in. Otto proposed to hold the ceremony before the eyes of common folk, so that they would recognize Aegon as the rightful king. It was a smart move, you have to admit that, but you knew that it would not stop Daemon and Rhaenyra from trying to take the throne back. In truth you didn’t care who sat the throne, all you wanted was to fly back to Runestone with your husband and daughter and live your life peacefully there. You begged Alicent to let you leave, that you wanted nothing to do with their schemes, but it all fell of deaf ears. She only told you that it was Aemonds duty to stand by his brother’s side, and as his wife, you should support him. Aemond noticed you anxiously playing with the ring on your finger and placed a hand on your back to help you ease up a bit. In that moment you saw Alicent arrive at the scene, which means Aegon is outside and the coronation is going to start. “People of King’s Landing. It is the saddest of days. King Viserys the Peaceful passed away.” started Otto Hightower and you heard the murmuring all around the pit. “It is also a joyous day, as he left us with his final wish for his son Aegon to succeed him.” The soldiers marched into the room creating a path for the late king’s eldest son to walk towards the stand. Once Ser Criston Cole placed the Conqueror’s crown atop his head, he stood up and looked at every member of his family for approval. When his eyes landed on you, you gave him a quick courtesy with a clenched jaw. He then turned to the crowd and lifted the sword, Blackfyre, and you could’ve swear that in that moment, he started to like his new position and power.

A few seconds later the happy shouts became screams of terror, as the ground began to fall and from below emerged a red dragon. It was Meleys with Princess Rhaenys at her back. The Red Queen came closer to where you all stood. Aemond quickly put you and Helaena behind himself for protection, and you noticed Alicent doing the same with Aegon in the corner of your eye. You thought to yourself that that was it, you would all die in the flames, but the dragon only roaerd in your faces and Rhaenys escaped, no doubt to Dragonstone to inform Rhaenyra and your father of what transpired. The image of Daemon made you shiver, now you were sure that he will be out for your blood.

Once in the safety of the castle, you hastily made way to the nursery to be with your daughter. You found her in the arms of one of the maids. You put her on the rug and started playing with her. About half an hour later Aemond came into the room. “They’re sending me to Storm’s End as an envoy. I’m to bind Lord Borros’ loyalty to our cause.” you frowned and tried to talk him out of it. “No. Have them send someone else and let us go back to the Vale.” you saw him lower his gaze and try to stop you, but you didn’t let him. “You know that Daemon won’t let this slide, he will be out for revenge against his wife! I don’t want us to be caught in the crossfire!”. “Aegon’s my brother. I have to do this, as it is my duty. I will go and offer the Baratheon fool Daeron’s hand in marriage to his daughter. I will be back before you know it.”. You didn’t like it and had a bad feeling, but you knew how stubborn your husband is and there will be no talking him out of it. You let him go, and for the next couple of days, you stayed close with Helaena and Alysanne. Finally, when you heard the unmistaken sound of Vhagar, you were elated, as it meant your dearest husband was back. Without a thought, you sprinted towards the council chamber where you knew he would head first. Nothing could’ve prepared you for what you heard next. Aemond Targaryen committed the greatest sin known to men - kinslaying. He murdered his nephew, Lucerys Velaryon in the skies, while chasing him on his war dragon. “You have lost only one eye, how could you be so blind?!” chastised him Otto Hightower, while the new king sat and laughed in delight. “You have doomed us all!” screamed Alicent and you were just horrified. You knew they would retaliate, ater all, your husband killed Rhaenyra’s favourite child. Your head kept spinning as images of could they do now invaded your mind. “The bastard is dead. Others would be soon too. It seems to me that we ought to have a feast in my beloved brother’s honour.” said Aegon and made no room to argue, while you just got up and ran back to your chambers.

When you entered your rooms, the tears spilled. You cried for the boy, for your husband and for yourself, but most importantly, you cried for your daughter. Now there was no way for you all to return to normal life, not when your husband began the war, that will certainly become marred with even more bloodshed soon enough. Aemond walked into the room not much later, and flinched when he heard your desperate cries. When he tried to touch you, you just backed into the corner. “Do not touch me!” you screamed, trying to compose yourself. “How could you?! Do you have any idea what you have done?!” you continued yelling. It was a good thing Alysanne was left under the care of Helaena and wasn’t there to witness the fight of her parents. “My love…” he started but you cut him off. “No! Don’t you dare! You put all of us in grave danger! They will want blood for this! My father won’t stop until he avenges Luke! Blood will flow this castle! There would be no peace for us! No mercy!” you started hyperventilating, you were having a panic attack. “Darling please, listen to me. I didn’t mean for it to happen. Vhagar didn’t listen to my commands. She devoured him on her own accord.” you just looked at him, your gaze full of hurt and fear, it broke his heart seeing you like this. “Your mother is right. You have doomed us all! You shouldn’t chase him in the first place, what did you expect to happen!?”. He noticed you shaking and took you into his arms as you tried to break free. After a minute of struggle, your energy drained out and you just accepted the hug, just laying in his embrace motionless. As much as you hated him for what he’s done, you loved him way to much to be angry for long. Now you needed to focus on protecting your family, no matter the cost, as you knew that the payment will come sooner or later.

It wasn’t until one night, when your husband was away gathering support for Team Green, that the retaliation for Lucerys came. You and Helaena were on your way to Queen Dowager’s chambers with your children, as it was a routine lately, to spend some time before heading to bed. Once you entered the chambers, you saw Alicent Hightower gagged and bound, as well as two unfamiliar men standing inside the room. Both quickly overpowered you and the princess and barred the door. “Tis’ nothing personal. A debt to be paid. Nothin’ more” said one while they both took the children captive. “The False Queen needs to choose, which son has to die. Fast before we make the choice ourselves.” said the other assailant. “Please! They’re innocent, spare them.” you tried pleading with them as Helaena offered hersef in the children’s place. “A queen is not a son.” said one man and ushered her to make a choice. You tried to get to the children but there was no way for you to do so, without harming the children in the process. “Maelor.” Helaena whispered. The younger son was still at the age where he didn’t understand what was happening around him, same as your daughter. “You heard that boy? Your mommy doesn’t love you” as while saying that, the man cut off the head of Jeahaerys, the oldest son of Aegon and Helaena, and the other one repeatedly stabbed little Alysanne in her cheast and belly. “NO!” you screamed as you saw the man throwing your daughter’s lifeless body, as if it was a useless rag. You and Helaena quickly made way to you fallen children weeping so horribly, that the whole castle heard it. The sound of grieving mothers tore through the walls, making anyone who heard it flinch. “No, no, no, no..”you muttered holding your daughter. “My light, please, open your eyes. Please.” you wailed as you rocked her in your arms, pleading to the Gods for it to be an awful nightmare. It was not an awful nightmare, but rather dreadful reality. The only thing you heard except for yours, Helaena and Alicent’s crying was the escape of the murderers and words “Black Queen sends her regards”.

While you were being attacked, your husband returned to the keep and immediately went to find you. Once in the castle, he heard the screams leading to his mother’s apartments and he hastily made way there, along with Aegon and Ser Criston Cole. They found the door barricaded and called for more guards to help remove the obstacle, and when it was done, they saw the most horrifying scene. Dead bodies of their children, weeping wives and their mother tired up and gagged. When Queen Dowager explained them what took place, they went inot the state of madness, Aegon started yelling how could the guards let it happen, that he wanted the men found and brought to him, he was inconsolable. Aemond on the other hand stood frozen, he knew it happened because of him,. His nephew and his daughter, his beloved Alysanne, were ripped away from this world because of his own stupidity. He caused that and he couldn’t even look into your eyes, nor Helaena’s. He was overcome with grief and loathing for his actions, but he knew he had to be strong for you, even though he wanted to break down into tears himself. “My love…” he tried to get your attention, but you were focused on your daughter’s face. You dress soaked in her blood, as you stroked her hair singing her favourite lullaby. There was no way for you to let go of her, your state was truly horrible. After sitting there for hours, Silent Sisters came to collect the body, but you didn’t want to part with her, with your sweet Alysanne. Aemond came up to you. “Darling…she’s gone. You have to give her to them. They need to prepare her for the funeral.” you were reluctant, but Aemond finally managed to convince you to let go of her body.

For weeks after that you were closed off, not going out of your chambers, dismissing everything that happened around you. You couldn’t bear the grief and the emptiness this brought you. Even at the funeral you blocked it all out, when the children’s bodies were shown to the people of King’s Landing declaring it to be work of “Rhaenyra the Cruel”. All you wanted was your daughter, but you couldn’t have her, as she was so cruelly taken from you. At the battle at Rook’s Rest Aegon got badly injured, it was a miracle he even pulled through, and your husband was crowned Prince Regent to rule in his stead untill the king recovers. He gathered the army and with the new Hand of the King, Ser Criston, he marched on Harrenhall. Aemond feared leaving you alone and decided it would be best to bring you along. During your stay there, your husband ordered the extermination of house Strong. No one was spared, but a witch named Alys Rivers, who Aemond taksed with your recovery. You and the bastard woman became fastly friends, and she helped you find the courage to join your husband on the battlefield. You wanted revenge and you were out for blood. Soon enough along with Aemond you were terrorizing the Riverlands and became a symbol of death, as you burned every keep, and every lord known to be loyal to the blacks. Vhagar and Canniball were a formidable duo that spread fear all around the realm.

Eventually, when you were away from Harrenhall, your husband received a letter from your father Daemon, that he’s waiting for him and wishes to battle. Without telling you, he made way towards the God’s Eye and without fear fought against your father. After you found the letter, you jumped atop the Canniball and flew towards the battlefield, only to arrive to late, as you witnessed Daemon jumping off Caraxes’ back and plunging Dark Sister into your Aemond’s good eye. You screamed seeing this and urged your dragon to fly faster. Aemond and Vhagar fell into the waters and sank into the lake, as you took on Daemon and Caraxes to avenge your family. The battle was tough, but you emerged victorious, thanks to stabbing your father straight through his neck. As you landed on the shore, you weeped. For your daughter, your husband, your mother who were all killed by Daemon Targaryen, as well as Helaena who committed suicide by throwing herself from the tower, landing on spikes. You were alone, you lost everything. You and Alys went into hiding, up until hearing the news of the death of Rhaenyra. Aegon fed her to his dragon Sunfyre, while her young son watched. Soon enough the king was poisoned by his own men, Alicent was confined to her chambers and was said to go insane. It was too much for you. All you wanted was to be back with your family, that’s why one day, when Alys wasn’t there, you decided to drink poison. Just before going to bed, you took a sip, and faded away into dreamland, where you saw your husband and your daughter eagerly waiting for you. You knew that you could spend eternity together.

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A/N: Alright guys. The second part is here. Thank you for all the support you shown me on my first post. Soon I'll be posting more stuff on this page so stay tuned ♡.

@heavenly1927 @marihoneywk @nyenye

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x reader angst #aemond targaryen fanfic #house of the dragon #hotd season 2 #fic rec #prince aemond targaryen x reader #aemond one eye #daemon x rhaenyra #alicent hightower #aegon ii targaryen #helaena targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond hotd #viserys targaryen #prince aemond targaryen #fire and blood #targaryen family #dance of the dragons #alys rivers #lucerys velaryon #rhaenyra targaryen #daemon targaryen #jacerys velaryon

[deathnot-e]

hello ! it's five (.❛ ᴗ ❛.) (i wish you could ask on sideblogs ... guh ;;)

do you have any media that your like that you think your f/o('s) would enjoy ?? i always love imagining sitting them down and watching movies wahaha (っ˘ω˘ς )

have a wonderful day ! no pressure to answer or anything ♡

high five! uh, no. hi, five! ♡ [couldn't help myself haha] just going to tag you so you know I've answered you, @5-lover

that's such a cool question asdfghjkl. ♡♡ that being said, I have absolutely no idea.

I feel like L and light could watch anything but crime tv series. things like criminal minds, etc? they'd be insufferable about them. true crime documentaries though? they could spend an entire day watching them together, commenting, etc. they'd indulge niko and/or kuroh and watch other things with them once in a while though.

my son niko would be really into avatar: the last airbender, ghibli movies and my little pony: frendship is magic. 100%. honestly this boy is such a ray of sunshine he'd watch pretty much anything and find something enjoyable about it. I can't imagine niko "bitching" about media. if anything, if he hates a show/movie/other he'll just. stop watching/etc and move on.

mikami I feel is like kuroh : sci-fi all day, everyday. doctor who, star trek, star wars, back to the future, the good stuff. ♡ also reads a lot of books in his free time. sci-fi, auto/biographies, stephen king for some reason. he's read his copy of battle royale so often it's very very very decrepit lmao.

my two secret f/os are book nerds, so I imagine they'd love movie adaptations of their favorite books. one of them probably adores the lord of the rings. c'mon now.

dedan... probably watches horror movies and laughs his butt off about them. I can see him being the type of guy who thinks it's so freaking unrealistic. probably laughs at james bond-esque movies too. and he loves futurama. don't ask me how I know, I just do.

#kuroh's mailbox. #5-lover #thank you so so so much for the ask! ♡♡ #hope the tag works because tumblr was a lil shit. #omg I need to tag all of my f/os now. noooo. #[f/o] evil wet kitten. #[f/o] pathetic wet kitten. #[f/o] pancake kitten. #[f/o] righteous wet kitten. #[f/o] screeching wet kitten. #secret f/o's placeholder tag. #secret f/o number two's placeholder tag. #good. I think that's all of them.

[darlingshane]

Summary: After a long day at work you come back home and join Shane and Willa in the blanket fort they’ve built in the living room.

Shane Walsh x F!Reader // Rating: G // WC: 1,362

Links: Part 1 // Read at AO3

Part 2: There’s No Place Like Home

Today's been one of those days you wished you were home instead of here…

You’re used to long shifts at the hospital, sure, it didn't take you long to adapt because you knew what you were signing for when you got your degree. But on tougher days, you have to remind yourself that's what brought you to Shane.

You moved to King County after getting a job as a radiographer at the Harrison Memorial, and a few weeks later a kneecap fracture had him come into your workplace. Thanks to one of those endless shifts, you were the one operating the X-ray machine that day. After that, every time he came into the hospital, he made sure to bump into you. It was actually pretty blatant that he had a crush on you by the sixth or seventh time he ‘casually’ showed up in that part of the building. He was practically healed by then but he never asked you out though. He later said he was building the courage to do so, but in reality he was still half dating someone else at the time and wasn't up for being a two-timer asshole.

If seeing you was all that he could have, he’d take it.

It was you, ultimately, the one who took that step. Outside of the hospital, you saw him one day at the café and invited him to join you at your table.

That was just the beginning of your story– you fell madly in love, got married as soon as you could, and had a baby girl about two years into your relationship. You lucked out for once, though it wasn't all sunshine and rainbows of course, you had a few bumps in the road that didn't keep you from going further. No. You built a pretty solid relationship despite the comments of a couple of gossips at work that had you doubting Shane at the beginning. You’re glad you didn’t pay much attention to that. That speck of concern didn't stop you from following your gut and fortunately, you were right.

It’s been seven years since you met him, and you couldn't be more grateful. There’s nothing you’d miss more than not having Willa and Shane by your side. You can’t even imagine how your life would be without them. They’re your whole world.

And after one of those long, tired days, that was only exacerbated thanks to the huge migraine you had during most part of it– there’s nothing like coming home to them.

You take off your shoes, slip out your coat, and hide in the cozy blanket fort Shane and Willa have built in the middle of the living room.

They're both laying down over a pile of blankets and pillows when you crawl through the entrance.

Willas’s already dressed in her pj’s, her hair is still wet from her bath, and she lies snuggled on Shane's side, head resting on his shoulder.

He's reading her The Wonderful Wizard of Oz from where they left off the previous night. You usually read a chapter or two every night because she's fascinated by it. All of it. She first watched the movie a couple of months ago and now that's all she can think of. Last week, on Halloween, you all dressed up as characters from the story. Willa was adorable as Dorothy, Shane was a very handsome Scarecrow, and you went out as The Wicked Witch of the West, because why not.

“Hi, mommy,” she thrills at seeing you, interrupting Shane's reading.

“Hi, baby. You having fun?”

She nods as you tuck yourself on Shane's other side.

“You alright, mama?” Shane loops his arm under your head, inviting you to take his other shoulder.

“Yeah, just tired,” you slide a palm across his chest and hold Willa's hand.

He kisses your head and resumes the book, repeating the last line he read to get back into the story.

You always marvel at the effort he puts into making voices for all the characters. Having seen the movie a bunch of times already, he has no problem taking inspiration from that. It makes you and Willa burst out laughing every five seconds. Her favorite is when he does The Cowardly Lion, yours however is when he tries to sound like Judy Garland.

“So they found a cozy place under the trees where they slept well until the morning; and Dorothy dreamed of the Emerald City, and of the good Wizard Oz, who would soon send her back to her own home again.”

He finishes narrating, places the bookmark at the end of the chapter, and closes the book. “Okay, that's it for today, Dorothy. Time for bed.”

“Nooo. One more, please?” she stares at him making that annoyingly adorable face that's always impossible saying not to.

“Yes, one more, daddy,” you squeeze his arm lightly, and he huffs amused.

“Alright, anything for my girls.”

He opens the book again and continues reading a few more pages. The sound of his voice lulls you, and your eyes start slowly closing at some point amidst the poppy field chapter. You try really hard to stay awake, forcing your eyes open, but fail in the process.

When Shane finishes the chapter, you’re totally out and he carefully removes his arm from under your head, replacing it with a pillow instead. He lets Willa wish you goodnight softly and kiss your face before having daddy pick her up in his arms and carry her to her bed.

“Daddy?” she utters with her little voice, already tucked under the covers, hugging her favorite stuffed animal.

“Yeah?”

“Don't close the door.”

“I won't, baby. Don't worry,” he leans and presses his lips to her hair, “good night, baby.”

“Night, daddy.”

As easy as it seems, he knows she'll sneak out in about five to ten minutes and will have to repeat the process again cause she's been having trouble sleeping on her own lately, which was never a problem until a few weeks ago that she had her first nightmare, at least the first one that she could remember.

Shane turns the light off, leaves the door ajar and goes back to the fort to lay beside you. His fingers trace your jaw, awakening you ever so carefully from your slumber.

“Hey, sweetheart, let’s get you to bed too,” he’s an inch from your face when you open your eyes to his voice.

“Willa?”

“Probably still awake.”

“Hm, I don’t wanna get up,” you tuck your arms closer to your chest.

“So I’ve gathered,” Shane smiles softly, and kisses your nose, “you want me to carry you too?”

“No, I just need a minute.”

“That tired, huh?”

“Yeah.”

He keeps stroking your face and neck tenderly with love printed on his fingertips.

You sigh and move your face closer to press a kiss on the corner of his sweet, curved up mouth that softens at the touch of your kiss, parting slightly to fit his lips against yours.

Kissing without urgency, you take comfort on his warm lips for a minute before noticing the short shadow of your daughter suddenly moving behind one of the sheets.

You pull your head back and nod at Shane in her direction.

“Willa?” You finally sit up and wait to see her peek at the entrance, smirking at the both of you.

“Yes, mommy?”

“What are you still doing up, missy?”

“I wanna sleep in here too.”

“Nobody's sleeping here, baby. We were just going to bed. Maybe another day when you don't have school in the morning, okay?”

“Okay.”

You finally stand up after that little moment of rest and it's you now trying to get her to bed for a second time. You can tell she's just as tired as she’s restless about having to fall asleep, still scared about those demons haunting her dreams.

A smile plays at Shane’s lips, standing right outside her door, hearing you singing to her softly to chase those bad dreams away. You make sure she's comfortable and well wrapped, and cuddle with her for a few minutes to soothe her worries until she falls asleep.

#shane walsh #shane walsh x reader #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead #jon bernthal #fluff #no za #family fluff #dad!shane #raising willa series #darlingwrites #you asked for more fluff and you got it #that ethan screenshot was just perfect for this #<333