#yes I'm watching lady's maid

[halfrican-heat]

ALL MINE (Ony)

"You come here, I'll knock your pussy out the damn frame. Remember the last time I made you miss your damn plane? Remember the last time I wet you down with champagne?"

A/N: Hey! I'm down bad for this man rn, lol. I've got lots of ideas for him though, so yay! Happy reading :) Inspired by @lingeriae and this post! Requests are open, too! Get at your girl.

Warning(s): Explicit Sexual Content; Penetrative Sex (p in v), Oral Sex (F receiving), Cursing, Public Sex (Outdoors), Cervix kissing, Wedding details, N Word Used, Black reader in mind, AAVE/Dialogue with Dialect, Dominant!Ony (when tf is he not in my mind), Depiction of marijuana usage, Depictions of alcohol consumption, Mild Dubious Consent; Beta'd by my besties <3

Pairing: Ony x Wedding Planner!Reader

Song Inspo: All Mine - Brent Faiyaz

His eyes drilled into the side of your head, trailing the curves of your body.

As maid of honor, your dress was a little different from the other bridesmaids. Make no mistake, your girls looked good with a t on the end. You made sure of that, but you all agreed upon something more…tailored for the lady making the most moves. So, your dress was designed to your tastes and fit you like a glove. It accentuated all your assets and Onyankopon was taking stock. 

The two of you had only fucked once but there was this heightened tension ever since.

During the entire wedding process, Ony had been a pain in your ass. Because he was the best man, the two of you had to collaborate on many of the joint events-- like the Engagement Party and Bridal Party mixers. He was a terrible flirt and spent most of his time trying to get in your pants. Then, if it wasn’t you, he was flirting with any lady he could. And they would swoon just as soon as Ony flashed that handsome, megawatt smile of his. 

But for some reason, Ony liked the challenge you posed. The way you were resistant to his charms. Unfortunately for you, Ony was interested in you. He liked you.

You dealt with his bullshit for a good while, putting in a valiant effort because you were doing your best friend and fellow soror, Kendra, a favor. Y’all went back to diapers and stuck together through everything. You were a celebrity event coordinator, specializing in weddings, so you were doing double duty by being her maid of honor and planning the entire wedding. But shit hit the fan between you and Ony the night of the final Bridal Party mixer. The two of you got into a huge blowout fight that ended with your cute little cocktail dress torn and strewn about the floor of Ony’s hotel room, his tongue licking champagne from places it shouldn’t have been. 

“You doing so good, ma.” He had whispered, fucking you into his sheets. 

You ended up missing your damn plane the next morning. Needless to say, he moved up on your list of people you wouldn’t mind spending time with. But he quickly moved back down the list after he ghosted you the next day. During the rehearsal dinner, you found him talking up some girl in the hotel lounge. He made eye contact with you as he flirted with her, looking away to give her his full attention. 

So, you kept it cordial and cute after that. You acted like it didn’t bother you. Did he have amazing, life-changing dick that made you want to murder him and the bitch from the hotel lounge? Yes, yes he did. But were you a classy, sophisticated bitch who successfully planned a destination wedding while being the maid of honor and dealing with Ony’s shiesty ass? Yes, yes the fuck you were. 

And no nigga was gonna make you second guess that shit. 

The “Lounge Incident”, as your friends lovingly dubbed it, had happened a week ago. Fast forward to the present and there you were, watching your best friend dance and act a fool with the love of her life. You were happy for her, of course, but it did make you feel a little wistful.

The wedding ceremony wrapped up two hours prior and you found yourself nursing a glass of champagne at the reception. You were pretending to be unfazed by the looks Ony was sending you from across the room. You stole a glance at him when you felt like he wasn’t watching you and…dear Lord. 

His white dress shirt was tucked into his green slacks, suit jacket long forgotten, with a few of the top buttons opened. His gold chain shined at you, almost winking, as it matched the gold Rollie on his wrist. He flashed a smile to one of his homeboys and you felt your knees wobble a little. You looked away quickly and crossed the room to find your girls. They were standing around one of the reception tables talking.

“Aht, don’t bring that energy over here, ma’am!” Your friend, Chelsea, said. “That man look like he ‘bout to jump your ass.”

“Please tell me y’all not about to fuck at this wedding,” Liyah groaned.

Your girls laughed loudly and you hid a smile behind your champagne glass as you took a sip. You risked a glance back at Ony, finding his gaze already on you. He didn’t care to hide the fact he was staring at you, not even giving the young lady in front of him a glance as she spoke to him. You whipped around, clearing your throat. 

“Bye, girl. It ain’t even like that.”

The table went quiet, all the girls looking over your shoulder. A shit-eating grin spread across Chelsea’s face as she raised her hand, waving playfully. 

“Hey, Ony.”

Your eyes widened as his chest pressed against your back, his warmth surrounding you. You tried to pretend to be unbothered as your friends gawked with wide eyes and smirks. 

“Hey, ladies.”

The smile was evident in his voice, sending chills down your spine. But you took a sip of your champagne with a neutral face, not acknowledging him. In truth, you didn’t need to. He leaned down so that his mouth was close to your ear, hands braced on the table as he trapped you against his chest. His chain brushed your neck, not helping the goosebumps erupting all over your skin. His words, low so only you could hear them, didn’t help either. 

“Say bye to your lil friends so I can eat your pussy.”

He paused as you turned your head slightly, your faces close to touching. 

“And stop playing with me.”

His eyebrow arched at you as he pulled back, taking a sip from his whiskey glass. He addressed your friends again, setting the glass down. 

“Ladies,” He said with a charming smile. 

With that, he left you standing there as you slowly looked back to your friends who gaped back at you. 

“Bye.” You said finally, scurrying from the reception hall as fast as your legs would carry you.

You found Ony outside the building, perched against the wall. A blunt hung from his lips as he gazed at you sidelong. You approached slowly, hips swaying with each step. His eyes never left yours as he sparked up and inhaled, exhaling the smoke slowly. You felt dizzy with need but you weren’t down that bad. Not yet. 

You took the blunt as he passed it to you. You let the smoke soothe you before you exhaled. You took a few more pulls before passing it back to him. 

“Take your panties off,” He said finally, after a long draw. 

You tutted, crossing your arms. 

“You just gon’ act like you ain’t ghost me, Ony?”

“I was wrong for that. But I'm here now, ain't it?” He said casually. 

You rolled your eyes, turning to go back inside. He grabbed your arm and pulled you back to him, his lips pressing firmly against yours. His mouth teased yours, opening it as smoke billowed between the two of you. His arm slid down to your waist as you exhaled the smoke he gave you. 

He took another pull, exhaling, before he looked back down at you. 

“I told you stop playing with me.”

“Maybe I'm done with you," You bluffed. "Maybe I got me another nigga to fuck on now.”

Ony scoffed, tucking the rest of his blunt away for later.

“Aight, that’s enough of that shit,” He mumbled, grabbing your hand as he pulled you to the side of the building. 

It was a more hidden spot, behind large bushes that wrapped around the front of the building and off to the side. From there, you could see guests entering and exiting but they couldn’t see you unless they were looking hard enough. Your eyes widened as he kneeled in front of you and shoved your dress up your legs. You swatted at his hands, panicking as your eyes darted around. Ony stilled, his gaze hard as he grabbed your hands and looked up at you.

“Don’t piss me off.”

Now, you were down bad. 

You took a shaky breath as he released your hands, going back to bunching up your dress. 

“Hold that,” He said, tossing your leg over his shoulder. 

You did as he asked, taking the garment in your hands. Your body flushed with heat as he shamelessly nuzzled his nose against your soaked core, smelling your needy scent. He kissed your clothed core and pushed your panties aside, holding them in one hand as he slipped a finger into your dripping cunt. He moved the digit in and out, brushing against that soft spot inside you. 

“Oh, fuck,” You whined, your head falling against the wall. 

“Yeah, say that shit you was sayin’ now,” Ony taunted, sliding another digit inside. “This pussy all mine.”

You panted, bracing yourself with a hand on his shoulder, as you forced out your next question.

“What about that bitch from the lounge, Ony?”

“I was gonna try what she was offering, but she wasn’t you,” He said easily, his eyes glued to his fingers moving in and out of you. “Damn, ma. You sucking that shit in.”

“Ony,” You whimpered. “I don’t want to play no games with you--”

“I’m not. That shit not an offer to me when you’re around,” He said firmly. “Now, you gon’ keep complainin’ or you gonna let daddy eat his pussy?”

“Ony--”

Any rebuttal you had became a wanton moan as he didn’t wait for a response, his mouth descending on your clit as his fingers continued to move inside you. You covered your mouth with your hand, trying in vain to stifle the sounds of pleasure he was snatching from you. He pulled his fingers from you gently, spreading your sopping pussy wider as he fucked his tongue in and out of you. 

He ate you out messily, drinking up your juices like sweet nectar. The slurping noises were lewd as he sucked on your clit, teasing it with his tongue before dipping it back into your weeping hole. His performance was drawing pathetic whines from your throat as you tried to keep the two of you from getting caught. Heat pooled in your belly as his mouth on your core drove you toward a heated finish. 

Then, he stopped completely. You let out a confused moan as the pleasure waned, your orgasm evading you. The confusion didn’t last long, however, as you heard his belt coming undone. He pulled himself from his pants as he tore your panties. He hiked your leg around his waist and slid home without warning.

“Hold on to me,” He grunted, his other hand supporting your back.

You wrapped your arms around him, your head resting on his shoulder as he thrust into you. His pace was rough and deep, fucking you like he owned you. Maybe he did. Maybe you wanted him to. You muffled a scream into his shoulder as his length kissed your cervix, unrelenting as the drag of his cock against your tight walls sent you into oblivion.

“Fuck, baby,” He groaned. “You so tight f’me. Takin’ me so good.”

You choked back a sob as his tip brushed that soft spongy spot, bringing back the pool of pleasure from before. Ony noticed your reaction, angling his hips to hit it over and over again. Your whimpers and moans were his own private mixtape as you keened and cried in his ear. He stretched you so good, the feeling of being this full something new and foreign to you. Ony was a bad habit, and he was making sure you wouldn’t be able to kick him any time soon.

That pool of pleasure warmed further with each snap of his hips into yours. Your quiet, open-mouthed cries built in intensity as the temperature inside you began to rise, swirling like a tsunami. You felt yourself teetering on that delicate edge and so could Ony. He picked up the pace. 

“You gonna cum on your dick?” He taunted, egging you on. “You gon’ show me who this dick belong to?”

Your climax crashed over you as you slapped a hand to your mouth, muffling the sob that broke free. He fucked you through your orgasm, prolonging it as your body seized around him. He could barely pull out, opting for shallow thrusts as you came down from your high.

You sagged against the wall, trying to catch your breath as Ony pulled out. He fixed your dress and smoothed it down around the hips. He tucked himself back into his pants and dug his wallet from his pocket, fishing out his room key. 

He flashed it in front of your dazed face before placing it in your hand. He pulled you off the wall, making sure you looked good before nudging you in the direction of the front doors. 

“Go to my room. Third floor, 303. I’ll be there in a minute.”

You looked down at the key card in your hand then back to him. He sparked up his blunt again, blowing out smoke as he smacked your ass. 

“Go ‘head, ma. I’m coming.”

You jumped slightly from the impact and found your feet moving you out of the bushes. You stumbled back into the hotel lobby, walking on wobbly legs to the elevators with his room key clutched in your hand. Your girl, Chelsea, was coming from the restrooms as the two of you made eye-contact. She smirked, her eyes trailing over you. She subtly adjusted the top of her dress, nodding at you.

You took the hint, fixing yours. 

She went back into the reception hall without a word as you fumbled to press the elevator button. 

Your night was not over yet.

#onyankopon x reader #onyankopon x black y/n #ony x reader #onyankopon smut #onyankopon x black reader #onyankopon #aot onyankopon #black writer #black reader #my writing #Lyv's Library #Ony's Observatory #Fanfiction for black women #Black women #smut #Onyankopon x black!reader #Potential Series ;) #Wedding Planner!Reader

[mavrintarou]

Lord Gojo Satoru [1]

Hi All, hope you all have been well. I'm going through a writer's block for Toru & Mateo. Bear with me. In the meantime, I can distract you with Lord Gojo #hearteyes

Lord Series masterlist

Part two

Warning: angst, violence (TW: description about past physical abuse Y/n suffered through), smut (18+)

.

Lord Gojo Satoru tossed the last scroll into the flame, destroying the evidence of details about the last remaining elder.

Satoru was known as the young Lord who rosed into his high position by diminishing the elders of his clan.

He was now the head of the Gojo clan.

He now reigns over the clan and will rise to make changes to his desires.

. .

“You must consider marriage and make haste to produce an heir, my Lord!”

Rolling his eyes, Satoru looked out the window, ignoring what the clan members he had chosen were saying.

Approaching the age of 27, he knew he could no longer delay marriage and the prospect of producing an heir. His only challenge was that he found none of the recommended ladies to be deserving of a significant role.

The only woman Satoru has ever believed to fit the role of being his wife and the mother of his children was the very one that he could not have. 

Yet.

As soon as she is found, he will bring her back to his kingdom.

“Any news on her?”

They did not need to ask who he meant, everyone knew he was looking for Y/l/n Y/f/n.

Gojo Satoru has sent special men to search for the woman who has occupied his heart, mind, and soul.

The eleven members glanced nervously amongst each other before one finally replied, “no, my Lord. We will continue to keep searching for her.”

.

.

Y/n turned her head towards the breathless maid running towards her. “Yuko, what is the matter?”

The young maid whom Y/n had watched grow up from a little girl stopped in front of her, leaning against her for support as she tried to catch her breath. “Y/n, someone is looking for you!”

Frowning, Y/n asked, “me? Who?”

Yuko shrugged her shoulders, “I was running errands for our Lady when I heard many talk about the new Lord who has announced a reward if anyone knew any information about…” she paused and looked around before whispering, “Y/l/n Y/f/n.”

Y/n was under a new name given to her by her new house, Yui. She has been using the name Yui for six years. Yuko only knew of her birth name by overhearing a conversation between her mother and Y/n.

Yuko pulls out a heavily folded-up piece of paper, handing it to Y/n. “I took this off the pillar.”

Y/n’s eyes widen when it’s a drawing of her.

.

Y/n served her Lady her evening tea. She bowed her head, bidding her Lady a good night but before she could exit her chamber, her name was called.

“Yuko, you may leave but Yui, please stay for a moment. I have something to discuss with you.”

Y/n nodded her head at Yuko, sliding close the door after her.

Lady Komatsu gestured to the spot across from her.

With carefulness, Y/n set her cane down and was about to lower herself onto the cushion on the floor when she was stopped. “Please, have a seat beside me.”

Taking a seat on the soft couch across from her lady, Y/n quietly asked, “what is it, my Lady?”

Lady Komatsu has been nothing but kind to Y/n, taking her in and generously treating her like a family rather than a maid.

“It has brought to my attention that…” she sighs softly, “someone is looking for you.”

She knew of Y/n’s real identity.

Looking up, Y/n inquired, “do you know… who?”

“Lord Gojo Satoru.”

Y/n’s breath hitched, she was sure it was him but a part of her hoped it was not.

“That was the previous family you served, is that correct?”

Nodding her head, “yes, that is correct. He is the young master.”

“Who is now the head of the Gojo clan.”

Y/n’s eyes widen at the news. Satoru couldn’t have become the head of the clan yet, his father and the other elders…

“He is searching for you…” Lady Komatsu raised a brow at her, “my next question is, do you want to be found?” She threaded her fingers together and placed them on her lap. “If you do, I will release you. If you do not… I will turn a blind eye and not know who this Y/l/n Y/f/n is.”

.

Y/n rubs the achiness in her right knee. Even after almost ten years, the pain would linger now and then…

Reminding her of her place.

Reminding her of her status.

That she was merely a maid for the Gojo house and falling in love with the young master Gojo Satoru was forbidden.

Horrific memories came flooding back as she shut her eyes tightly.

Beaten and bruised Satoru stood before her.

He smiled softly at her even with a swollen and broken lip. “Y/n…”

They both knew their love for each other would never flourish with their different statuses.

Y/n has tried many times to cut it off, to destroy their sad and pathetic love.

Her request to be relocated to a different Gojo site was approved. On the day of her relocation, Satoru caused a predicament and enough was enough from his father.

Y/n cried and tried to pull away from the guards as the other guards beat the young master in front of her.

“Heed this warning, Satoru,” his father gripped the chin of his son, “know your place.” He points a finger at the guards holding Y/n down.

It took Y/n by surprise, the next thing she knew, she was writhing in pain on the ground. She gasped loudly, clenching her teeth as she gripped her right leg. Her knee was bent awkwardly, blood began seeping through her kimono.

Satoru screamed Y/n’s name, trying to crawl towards Y/n but a heavy weight held him down by the back of his neck.

With one foot pressing down on his son,  he looks down at his son with cold hard eyes, “this is all your doing, Satoru. Next time,” his tone is icy, “it won’t end with just a broken knee.”

That was the last time they saw each other. Y/n was moved to an unknown location, sold, and served under a different master and family.

It has been six years and she couldn’t deny the knowledge of hearing him search for her after all these years.

But why?

“If you do, I will release you. If you do not… I will turn a blind eye and not know who this Y/l/n Y/f/n is.”

Y/n closed her eyes.

“Can I have some time to think about this?” she asked after a few minutes.

“Of course, think about it.” Lady Komatsu smiled, “I want you to be happy, Y/n.”

Can she truly be happy?

What was Lord Gojo’s motives?

.

Weeks passed and rumors continued that a young Lord was looking for a woman.

Locals have all turned down when being asked because only very few have ever seen Y/n and are aware that she is assigned to the Komatsu house. Maids leaving the compound were restricted and only a few were assigned to be the designated one to run errands outside the compound.

Y/n was serving her lady their afternoon tea when loud commotions were coming from outside.

“I’ll go check,” Y/n assured, setting the kettle down.

She hurried out to the corridor and froze.

Standing no more than twenty feet in front of her is Lord Gojo Satoru.

His eyes trail down to the cane she used for years. He swallows the lump in his throat and looks at Y/n in the eyes once more.

“My… Lord,” she barely whispered against the wind.

He stood before her in a blink of an eye, he closed the last remaining distance between them. His long arms wrapped around her frame, holding her close.

.

“Come with me,” Satoru squeezed her hands firmly, he had not been able to let go of her since he touched her. “Come home with me,” he pleaded softly. He looked across at Lady Komatsu and turned his body. “Please, allow Y/n to leave with me. I will compensate for the time you’ve taken care of –“

Lady Komatsu held a hand up, silencing Satoru. “You will not need to, Lord Gojo.” She looks over at Y/n, who is still looking down at hers and Satoru’s hands. “If Y/n wishes to leave with you, I will release her.”

Y/n lifts her head and at Lady Komatsu, her eyes brimmed with tears. “I do, I want to leave with… Satoru.” She turned her gaze to Satoru’s crystal blue eyes, tears slipping down her cheeks, “I want to go home with you.”

.

Satoru watched as Y/n strolled through the compound she had once called home, a place filled with both beautiful and painful memories. It was where their love had initially blossomed and later suffered.

The place where they last encountered years ago has undergone a beautiful transformation into a flower garden, adoring exclusively with her favorite flowers. He made sure only her favorite flowers bloomed there.

He could not see her face, but he knew the painful memories of that day were replaying in her head. Taking a few strides, Satoru hugged her tightly from behind. His left hand moved to cover her eyes, “I cannot erase that moment from your life, but what I can do and I promise you, I will create new moments to overcome them so that you will never have to fear it anymore.” He felt her tears against his palm and he slowly moved his hand away. “I have planted all your favorite flowers, see how it’s blooming for you… each time it withers at the end of each season and blooms at the beginning of the new season… it is a means of new life and starting over…” Satoru turned her around and tilted her chin upward. “It is a new season, Y/n. Please, start over with me?”

Y/n gazed longingly into his beautiful eyes. She reached up to cup his cheeks, her thumbs rubbing his cheekbones. She still could not believe that he was in front of her. “Satoru…”

Satoru gazes longingly at Y/n, “let us start again, together, with no one to interfere with our love.” The spark in her eyes turned into pain and sadness. He frowned, “do – do you not want to start again?”

“We are too different, my Lord.”

His light blue eyes darkened. All his life, he had only ever loved Y/n, yet everyone, Y/n including now, always told him they were different. “How? You are a human just like me? Are you not?”

His breath hitched when she pulled away from him, taking a step back. “You know how, my Lord. We are from different statues.” Her head bows, “you know clearly how it will not work for us.”

“Then why did you agree to come home with me?” He gritted through his teeth. He sees her flinch and he takes a step back, releasing a deep breath while running a hand through his hair.

Her sharp inhale before she spoke, “forgive me, my Lord. I was selfish and greedy at that moment and acted without the right mind. If – if you want to send me back I will gladly return.” She bowed.

Satoru closed his eyes and exhaled quietly. He opened his eyes, they were hard and cold, “look at me Y/n.”

She straightened her posture and looked straight ahead, but not at him. He found no light in her eyes like he did before.

A low growl rumbles from his chest before he tugs her swiftly into his embrace, locking his arms tightly around her. He won’t let her go. If he has to chain her by his side for the rest of his life, he will.

“I don’t care about our status. I love you,” he emphasized the three last words. He pulled away abruptly and cupped Y/n’s face to force her to look straight into his eyes, “I love you, Y/n.” His large hands gently tighten around her head, emphasizing his words. “I. Love. You. You, Y/n.” Satoru’s eyes softened and their touch lightened, “I have loved you for a long time and all these years.”

Y/n shut her eyes, tears spilled down her cheeks. “Satoru…” she wept quietly, “can you love someone like me? I am damaged.”

“Nonsense,” he growled, “you are not damaged at all.” Satoru was aware of the societal stigma associated with a woman perceived as ‘damaged’. Society would label her as such because of the limp she now bears.

“I am selfish,” Satoru whispered. “I am the reason why you now bear this limp for the rest of your life and I should do the right thing and let you go,” his fingers brushed her hair behind her ear, “but I cannot.”

“No my Lord – “

“But it is my life and my heart that I will offer to you,” his eyes stared deeply into her soft hazel ones, “I will give you everything I own, everything I possess,” he wiped her tears away, “so please, be with me. Stay with me. You are all I want. What I need to live.” He pressed her palm to his lips, “marry me, be my Lady, Lady Gojo.”

Y/n shut her eyes, tears rolled down her cheeks before she let out a soft sigh. She opened her eyes, and this time, they filled with hope, “you still wish to marry me even though I have no family and dowery to offer to you?”

“Yes. I have everything for us,” his blue eyes twinkle brightly. “You only need me and I only need you.”

She smiled, “yes, I only need you. I would love to marry you, my Lord.”

. .

“What are you doing?”

Y/n froze as she poured water to fill the tub. “I am getting the bath ready?” She answered warily, she wasn’t sure why the head maid was stunned.

Sumiko quickly marched forward and gently took the bucket out of her hands, “my Lady, if Lord Gojo hears about you getting your own bath ready he will fire us all.” With a hand motion, four other maids entered the bathroom and began filling the tub with hot water. “I understand you have done this all your life but starting now, it will be far different. You must let us know and we will prepare it for you.”

Y/n nodded speechless as Sumiko guided her to the living room, “please wait here, my Lady. Give us five more minutes, we will have your bath ready.”

“Of course,” Y/n waited patiently until a voice informed her that her bath was ready.

Y/n was amazed that within five minutes they were able to fill the large tub with water and added essential oil that calmed the air in the room.

Putting her cane aside, she began to undress before entering the tub. Releasing a gentle sigh, she lowered herself further into the water until she was completely submerged.

Emerging slowly above the water’s surface, she gasped at the sight of Satoru standing before her, naked.

She gawked at his toned chisel body before looking away, cheeks reddening. Her arms crossed over her chest. She looked up at him again when he moved to step into the tub, her eyes catching a glimpse of his manhood, semi-erect. “My – my Lord…”

Satoru submerged himself up to his chin and moved towards her until he was in front of her. “Satoru.”

Y/n avoided his eyes, “o – okay…”

His lips curve upward, “say it.”

She looked into his eyes, confused.

“Say my name, Y/n.”

“S – Satoru…”

“Again.”

“Satoru.”

“Again.”

“Satoru. Gojo Satoru.” Y/n growled slightly frustrated at his persistent requests.

Satoru let out a chuckle, “that is all you can call me.”

“Don’t tease me,” she murmured, looking away.

Sitting down, Satoru grabs her legs and puts them on his lap. “But you look so adorable fluttered.” He grabbed her right foot and began massaging it. His grip tightened when she tried to pull away. “Relax, Y/n…”

She bit her lower lip and stopped struggling. “I’m – I’m not used to this…”

“Not used to what?” His thumb pressed into the arch of her foot and smiled when she let out a soft and quiet moan. “Not used to being pampered?”

“Y – yes…” she nodded, “having… things done for me… it is weird, my L – Sa – Satoru…”

A smile tugs the corner of his lips, “well, get used to it my love, you are my queen and you deserve to be treated like one.” His fingers shifted to her ankle and then her calf, and slowly his fingers reached the scar. He heard Y/n’s sharp inhale. “I was stripped away from you, I was weak then and could not protect you…” his thumb rubbed the long scar. “I am sorry.” He lifted her knee gently above the water and for the first time, he was able to see the horrendous scar. “If only…” his voice croaked, “if only you received the best care…” then you wouldn’t have a limp now, Satoru swallowed the rest of his words in silence, pressing his forehead against her knee. “Nothing will ever harm you again, I promise. I’ll protect you.”

A small hand lifted his head, “I believe you.”

Like a puppy, Satoru leaned into her palm. “I have waited for a long time to be with you again, I won’t ever let anyone take you away from me.” He moved closer to kiss her lips softly.

Y/n cupped his face, bringing him closer.

Satoru shifted over to situate himself in between her legs, his fingers tracing along her inner thigh until they reached her sacred moist spot. The tip of his fingers tickled her folds, his eyes on her, attentive to her reactions.

She let out a soft sigh, one of her hands trailing down his arm and to the hand waiting for her permission. She peered up at him at the same time as she guided his finger to slip past her folds. Her breath hitched at the intrusion but he continued to push his finger deeper inside her.

His heart beat loudly and rapidly as her warm and soft walls clenched around his finger tightly. Instantly, his cock became erect, begging to replace his finger.

Y/n’s soft whimpers encouraged him to pump his finger faster until he was easily slipping one finger through her tight hole, he added another finger. “Am – am I the first to touch you like this?”

“Yes. Yes, Satoru…” she confirmed, easing his anxiety away. “You – you are the only one I’ve ever wanted…”

His crystal blue eyes gleamed, and she left him speechless. She could make him weak to his knees for her.

His fingers continued to thrust in and out of her, her whimpers gradually turned into moans echoing softly throughout the bathroom. He pressed down on her clit, circling the needy nub until she trembled under his touch.

Her small body curled up, eyes shut tightly as her small hands covered her mouth to prevent her moans from leaking.

Satoru chuckled lightly to himself, finding her adorable.

Very gently, he withdrew his fingers and let out a shaky breath.

“Y/n,” he called her name in a pleading tone, she opened her eyes and stared into his darker blue eyes. Her eyes drop down, seeing his other hand fisting and stroking his hard cock. “Give me your permission, Y/n. Permit me to take you, and make you mine?”

Without hesitating, she nodded, “yes, Satoru – my body is yours…”

Satoru’s radiant smile caused Y/n’s heart to flutter; in her eyes, he was the most captivating man.

“I have been waiting for this moment and I cannot wait a second longer.” Satoru easily lifted her out of the water, stepping out of the tub. He set her down on her feet, an arm wrapped around her waist as he reached for her yukata and helped her slip it on. Once it was in place, Satoru swept her off her feet, carrying her like a child in the crook of his arm.

“S – Satoru!” Y/n exclaimed, wrapping her arm tightly around his neck. It shocked her that he could carry her with just one arm.

Without covering himself, he walked down the hall naked until he stopped in front of a door. “This is our room.”

Y/n gasped at the size of it, it was a large room filled with decorations and furniture. Against the wall was a platform bed.

“But we aren’t married yet?”

Laying her down in the middle of the bed, Satoru hovers over her, “we will soon. As soon as I can orchestrate it. I don’t want to wait another second without you being where you belong, in my arms every day and night.” He brought her hand up to his lips, pressing her knuckles to his lips. “I know I am being greedy, but please, don’t deny me.”

Y/n’s lips curve into a smile, “how can I? I could never refuse you before, how could I now?”

His head rests against hers as he closes his eyes and murmurs, “I can’t believe you’re really in front of me.”

Y/n’s nose intimately brushes his, “I can’t believe it either… it has been so long…”

The second Satoru opened his eyes again, they were once dark and filled with lust. His hand loosens her yukata, revealing her beauty. He first pecks her lips, chin, and chest before stopping at the valley of her breast. Both his hands grasp her bosom, groping them.

Y/n’s legs widen to accommodate his body, she gasped each time she felt something graze her sensitive clit. “’Toru…”

He missed his name as he was distracted by her perky dark pink nipples. Unable to decide which one he should first suckle, he opted for the left side first.  He had been dying to taste her small nipples the moment he saw them during their bath.

Satoru moaned, swirling his tongue against it. He peered up, watching her face twist in pleasure.

Y/n whimpered when he shifted to the other nipple, she couldn’t believe how turned on she felt just from him suckling her bosom like a baby.

An image of a baby, with platinum white hair and blue eyes appeared before her imagination, her heart wanting nothing more.

“’Toru…” Y/n implored, “g – give me a baby… put a baby in me – please?”

When Satoru’s eyes bulged, Y/n felt foolish at her request. She looked away, hiding her face. “Ignore my request…”

Her eyes widened when she felt something push in between her legs, push into the passage where his fingers were thrusting in and out of moments ago. This time, it was of something bigger and thicker.

“Shh,” Satoru purred, slowly inching his cock deeper into her pussy. His body tensed at her tightness, thinking he had loosened her up enough to accommodate his cock.

He nearly lost his control at her request to put a baby in her. If he was honest with himself, the idea of children wasn’t on his mind. For several years, all he wanted was just to reunite with his love once again. To hear her innocent request, he was willing to oblige. He will give her as many of his children as she wants.

Satoru groaned when he could no longer push further into her pussy, she had taken all of him, just as she was meant to. He glanced between their now sweaty bodies, they were one, a unity. “Haa,” he choked, he shifted his weight to his elbows and knees so he would squish her. She was so tiny compared to him. Staring down at her, his whole body dwarfed hers.

He let out a husky chuckle, “my love, you humor me. You say that it is too early to share a room because we are not married yet but you request for me to put a baby in you…”

“Don’t – don’t tease me,” Y/n stammer, blushing. “Oh – Satoru… you’re – you’re so big…” her nails dug into the skin of his arms. She has been educated that the first time being intimate would bring discomfort but with time, it would bring nothing but pleasure. Letting out a deep breath, she relaxed her body the best she could. She looked into his dark eyes, “I love it…”

Satoru’s ears were ringing as he tried to control his urge to thrust. He was nearly coming undone at just being inside of her alone, he didn’t know how much longer he could hold off once she allowed him to move. “Love – love what?”

“I love how you feel… inside me,” she rested a hand against her bulging abdomen. “Here… I can feel you here.”

“Oh, Y/n…” Satoru groaned. “Please… let me move…” he begged.

Her arms wrapped around his neck, “do as you wish.”

Satoru kept a steady slow pace at first, giving her time to adjust to his movements. He was attentive to her moans and the way her body reacted before speeding up his hips.

The room filled with their sweaty skin slapping skin.

“Going to fill you up… fill you with my seed… give you my heir…” Satoru whispered hotly into her ear. His arms slipped behind her back, hugging her close as he neared his orgasm.

“Yes! Yes, Satoru!” Y/n chanted, widening her legs so he could impale her deeper.

Satoru’s body anchored her petite one down as his lower region was the only part pounding deeply inside her. The bed rocked with his hard and heavy thrusts.

“Ah,” they gasped in unison.

Lifting Y/n upward, he settled her on his lap, still embedded deeply inside her. She clung on to him while his cock continued to convulse.

Her head buried into his chest, she mumbled something he couldn’t understand.

“Hmm, what did you say?”

She lifted her head, her face flushed from their passionate lovemaking. “It was amazing…”

Satoru let out a laugh, Y/n joining him with her giggles. “I’m glad… you enjoyed it. There will be plenty more of it…”

. . .

E/N: This is going to be literally porn with a plot.

>>> @queenelleee @mfreedomstuff @erintaro @callmeraider @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wolffmaiden @cloud-lyy

#jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jujutsu kaisen gojo satoru #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru angst #gojo satoru fluff #gojo smut #gojo fluff #gojo angst #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #gojo x y/n #gojo x reader

[willalove75]

Alcina fic idea/request, it’s totally cool if you don’t wanna do this one, I’ve never requested a fic before

Y/N is her shy personal maiden scared of overstepping, Alcina likes making her react/embarrassed. Alcina’s in a bath with Y/N there to fetch anything she’d need and Alcina pulls her in?

I love this idea!!!! I'm honored that I'm the first person you've requested a fic from!🥺💕 I hope you enjoy it!!

Warnings: Smut, a dash of praise kink, a splash of mommy kink, uh, I think that's it lolll

18+ Only Minors DNI

As the day winded down in Castle Dimitrescu you stood by the Countess during dinner with a wine bottle in you hands, ready to refill her glass whenever it was empty. You're been her handmaiden for a few months now so you're used to the Lady's routine and are privy of the things she prefer. Such as her favorite flavor tea, which soaps and oils she likes to use in the bath when she's stressed, which dresses are her favorite, etc..

Lady Dimitrescu has only had good things to say about your performance, something you're grateful for, but she's still the matriarch of the Castle, one slipup and you're in the dungeon. The dungeon terrified you more than anything else, more than the girls' sadistic antics and more than the Lady's massive claws. Even though you've never been down there before, you've heard screams echo through the castle when the door is open when the girls come in and out. Many of the maids who are sent there return with horrific wounds, if they return at all.

Even though you were grateful that Lady Dimitrescu picked you to be her personal maid, you couldn't help but feel like you were always walking on eggshells. You were always quiet, you kept to yourself and did your work and did it damn well. Now that you're the Lady's handmaid, you feel like you've shrunken into your shell even more.

For the first few weeks in your new position, weren't sure why you shrunk back so much. Yes, she could be terrifying, but there was something else, something you couldn't quite put your finger on. Until the first time you saw her undress, that was. She stood before you in all of her glory, her black lingerie contrasting perfectly against her porcelain skin. You drank in every inch of her, her massive breasts, her waist, her toned belly that still had a softness to it, her wide hips, her perfect ass, her legs that seemed to go on for miles. It was almost impossible to tear your eyes away from her, you were only able to do so when she pulled you out of your trance.

"Do you like what you see, pet?"

That's when it hit you like a ton of bricks. Sure, you were a little afraid of her, but more than that, you had the biggest crush on her. It's only gotten worse since that day. You're not sure if she's picked up on it by now, you've tried to be discreet, but ever since then she's tried to fluster you every chance she gets. It's like a game to her, she's the cat and you're the mouse.

The Countess holds out her wine glass in your direction and you walk up to her outstretched arm. She's currently involved in a conversation with her daughters and isn't paying any attention to you, which normally you'd be more than okay with. But since she's not paying attention, she doesn't realize that she's holding her empty glass over your head. Afraid of overstepping, the last thing you want to do is interrupt her conversation with her daughters to ask her to lower her hand so you look around to see if there's a stool or something you can climb on to to reach.

Bela sees you out of the corner of her eye and does a double take, watching you with amusement as you stare at the glass hovering over your head. She begins to snicker and you look over and make eye contact with her and quickly look down with a small squeak.

Lady Dimitrescu notices Bela giggling and follows her line of sight, leading directly to you. She notices that she's holding the glass too high she chuckles and you look up at her, a blush starting to dust your cheeks.

"My little pet, you could have asked me to lower my glass." She says with a faint laugh as she lowers her arm so you can pour the wine.

"I'm sorry my Lady, I didn't want to interrupt." You say, looking down at the floor after filling her cup.

She puts her glass on the table and puts her knuckle under your chin, lifting your face to look at her.

"Such a sweet, timid little mouse." She says, looking into your eyes.

You can see a hint of amusement in them, as well as something else. Adoration? No, the Countess could never look at you in such a way. You can't quite put your finger on it, but the look is soft and somehow makes you even more flustered than usual.

Once dinner was done Lady Dimitrescu asked you to accompany her to her chambers and assist her with her evening bath.

She sits down at her vanity and you climb onto the step stool behind her and begin removing the pins from her hair. She has the softest hair you've ever felt, which is a little strange given she isn't human, but you don't think about it too much. Her thick, raven curls fall just above her shoulder as you remove the pins. You coil a few of the pieces around your finger where the curls fell out, returning them to their natural shape as you go.

Lady Dimitrescu pauses taking off her makeup for a moment and stares at you through the mirror, watching you as you examine each curl as it falls, she admires the way your eyes shimmer and the little wrinkle that forms between your eyebrows when you're focused. Looking up for a moment, you catch her gaze in the mirror and you feel your face get warm, you immediately look back down and silently finish taking out the last of the hairpins.

She smirks at your reaction and after you take out the last pin and fix the final curl behind her ear, Lady Dimitrescu gently grabs your hand and holds it in hers. You freeze for a moment, staring at her hand wrapped around yours, the coolness of her skin is soothing, especially against your rapidly heating skin. Looking up you meet her gaze in the mirror once more and she looks at you with a kind, almost loving smile.

"I've never had a maiden take such care of my curls before. I hope you know your thoroughness and attention to detail doesn't go unnoticed."

"Th-thank you very much, my Lady."

"The face you make when you're focused is quite adorable, if I say so myself little mouse."

You let out a little squeak, a habit you picked up from your mom, and look back down to her hand over yours. The heat rises to your cheeks and you know they must be bright red.

Lady Dimitrescu turns in her seat to face you, when you look up, you're met with a gorgeous pair of golden eyes.

"Do you know why I call you 'little mouse'?"

You shake your head. "No, my Lady."

"Because of that little squeak you make when you're flustered, it's quite charming."

You try and hold back your squeak but fail, miserably. Lady Dimitrescu laughs and turns back around.

"You can go ahead and unbutton my dress now, little mouse." She says after she turns back around, smirking at you in the mirror.

After you unbutton the dress, Lady Dimitrescu pulls her arms out of the sleeves and stands up, the dress pooling at her feet. As you're about to get down from the step ladder to grab it, she sits again at her vanity.

"Be a dear and unclip my bra for me, pet." Her smirk is gone but she has a look in her eyes you've never seen before. You freeze for a moment, she's never asked you to do this before. With shaky hands, you delicately grab each side of the clip and unhook it. Looking up in the mirror, she holds your gaze as she slowly slides the straps off of her shoulders and pulls the bra away. Her breasts drop a bit from the lack of support and she tosses the bra away. It's taking everything in you to hold her stare, you get the feeling she wants you to look, but you could also just think that because that's what you want her to be thinking.

Lady Dimitrescu stands up and you release a small breath of relief as you climb off of the step ladder and head straight into the bathroom. You fill the massive tub up with warm water and add her favorite soaps and a few drops of her favorite oils. As you're finishing up Lady Dimitrescu walks in, stark naked. Never before have you seen her like this, usually she waits until you're out of the bathroom to take off the rest of her clothes. She's as gorgeous and as sexy as you imagined, honestly even more so. You quickly stare at the ground as she walks further into the bathroom.

"Your bath is ready, my Lady."

She gently cups under your chin and slowly, painfully slowly, raises your gaze up towards her. As your eyes move up, the first thing you notice is that your face is just inches away from her heat, you swear your heart stops for a second. She lifts your chin more and you take in the curves on her hips, her belly, looking up further you can see the underside of her breasts and finally, you lock eyes with her. You can feel your face burning up in her hand, you're sure she can feel it too.

Lady Dimitrescu stares at you for a moment and tucks a dark curl behind her ear before crouching down to your height. When she's at eye level with you, the look in her eyes changes, as if she's admiring a piece of artwork.

"Such a sweet little girl." She says softly, her thumb reaching up and slowly pulling your bottom lip down.

Your heart does a backflip and you squeeze your thighs together. She's been teasing you all night, but that intimate gesture is what really made you wet.

Her nostrils flare for a second and the look in her eyes shifts, her pupils dilate and she quirks an eyebrow softly. She leans in, her lips just barely brushing against the shell of your ear.

"So sweet." She whispers before placing a soft kiss on your cheek.

As she drops her hand and stands up you let out a small squeak and she smirks and steps into the tub. It takes everything in you to not melt into a puddle on her bathroom floor.

"I would like you to do my hair for me please, pet." She says as she lowers herself into the water.

"O-of course my Lady."

Walking around to the back of the tub, you climb onto the steps while Lady Dimitrescu leans back and dunks her hair into the water. She relaxes against the tub while you lather the shampoo into your hands and begin massaging it into her scalp. She gently hums as she closes her eyes, enjoying the soothing sensation. You rinse the shampoo out and add conditioner to the ends of her hair, gently combing it through with a brush, starting from the ends and working your way up. After you rise the conditioner out, you dip your hands into the water to wash the excess soap off.

"Is there anything else you need from me my Lady?" You ask as you pull your hands out of the water.

Lady Dimitrescu grabs one of your wrists and holds you there, bent over the edge of the tub. She turns her shoulders towards you and looks into your eyes for a moment.

"Actually pet, I believe there is something you can assist me with."

"Um, what is it, my Lady?"

"I would like for you to join me, little mouse."

You let out a squeak and stare at her wide-eyed. Did you hear her right? She wants you to bathe with her? Lady Dimitrescu senses your shock and chuckles.

"I know your feelings towards me are, deeper, than just being my handmaid, little mouse." You feel your face turn beet red. "I was quite surprised, but pleasantly so. Since you've been doing such a wonderful job, I want to reward you." She leans in and whispers in your ear. "I also find myself very attracted to you, pet. So, what do you say?"

She gently nibbles your earlobe before she pulls away and instead of a squeak, a small moan escapes from your lips. Lady Dimitrescu practically purrs when she hears you moan and leans back in, placing open mouth kisses on your neck. Your eyes roll back and you let out a few more moans.

"Care to join me?" She whispers in your ear.

"Yes." You breathe.

Lady Dimitrescu turns more in the tub and grabs you by your waist and pulls you into the tub and places you in her lap. You squeak as she pulls you in, maids uniform and all and your heart almost beats out of your chest when she has you straddle her, her breasts practically in your face.

She cradles the back of your head and pulls you into her, her lips are just barely brushing against yours. She holds your there for a moment before placing a soft, tender kiss on your lips. Her lips are softer than you ever imagined them to be, you feel like you're floating as she kisses you.

Pulling away just enough to ghost your lips once more, Lady Dimitrescu looks into your eyes.

"Would you like me to continue, pet?" You nod your head. "Use your words sweet mouse." She coos.

"Yes, please." You breathe.

Her pupils dilate so much her eyes nearly turn black, she pulls you into her and kisses you hard. You feel her tongue caress your bottom lip and you open your mouth more, letting her in. As she's exploring the inside of your mouth with her tongue, you feel a bit of a pull on the back of your uniform and then hear a tearing sound. Lady Dimitrescu extended one of her claws just enough to rip through your clothes. When she's done cutting through them, she pulls them off of you and tosses them away. You can hear the splat of the wet cloth hitting the floor somewhere in the bathroom.

She quickly pulls off your bra and claws through your underwear, leaving you just as naked as she is, your body pressed up against hers. Her lips travel down your jaw to your neck where she continues to kiss and suck up and down it. The hand that's tangled in your hair slowly slides down your body, she palms each of your breasts, taking your nipples between her fingers pinching them and rolling them until they're hardened. Sliding further down your body, her fingers dance across your sternum and head towards you belly, she gently drags her nails down your skin until she reaches your core.

There was a part of you that thought she was going to tease you, but to your surprise she immediately cups your heat, the pads of her fingers making contact with your clit right away. You can't help but throw your head back and do your best to swallow a moan as she rubs circles over it. Her other hand grabs the back of your head as she continues making up your neck.

"Good girl, let me hear those pretty noises you make." She says before picking up the pace.

Her lips travel down a bit to your collarbones and chest and she nips and sucks on your skin, riddling you with love bites. Without realizing it, you start to grind down onto her fingers and she smirks.

"Such an eager little pet." She purrs. "Do you want more?"

"Yes," you moan, "please."

Not a second after the words leave your mouth, she slides her middle finger deep into your core. You cry out in pleasure and you grab onto her shoulders. She thrusts her finger in and out of you a few times before curling it inside of you, making you cry out again. After doing that a few times you begin to buck your hips against her.

"More," you beg. "please, I need more."

Lady Dimitrescu tightens her hold on the back of your hair and slides her finger out of you. Just as you're about to whine from the loss she shoves two fingers into you, causing your eyes to roll to the back of your head as you let out a filthy moan. A growl rumbles in her chest when she hears you and thrusts into you harder.

"What a good girl you are, taking my fingers so perfectly, letting me stretch you out so nicely." She says as she sucks on your neck more.

The only thing you can do in response to her praise is moan more and dig your nails a little harder into her. After thrusting in and out of you for a few minutes, her free hand moves down to your hip and she lowers you further onto her lap. Stilling her fingers, she pulls your hips up and back down, picking up the hint, you start to bounce on them. On each reentry she curls them into you hitting all of the right spots that make you see stars.

The harder you slam yourself down onto her fingers, the harder she curls into you and the higher you climb, getting closer and closer to your climax. Slamming down onto them once more, you start grinding your hips into her, bringing yourself closer and closer.

"You're so close my little pet, I can feel you clenching around my fingers." She says. "Do you want mommy to take you over the edge? To make you feel so good?" She coos, which only brings you closer.

"Yes, please!" You cry out. "Fuck me, please fuck me!"

"So vulgar." She teases before sucking on your pulse point for a moment, making you whine.

When she pulls away from your neck, her free hand steadies your hips while you straddle her and she works her fingers in and out of you. Staring off at a bit of a slower pace, she quickly picks it up and in no time she's slamming her fingers in and out of you. Your cries get louder and louder and if you weren't in such a state of bliss right now, you'd be sure that the entire castle can hear you.

The bath water begins to splash over the edge onto the marble floor as she fucks you harder and harder. Your lower abdomen begins to tense up and you feel yourself clenching harder around her fingers.

"Fuck! I'm so close." You cry.

Lady Dimitrescu responds only by going faster and harder. Your climax hits you like a train, ecstasy explodes inside of your body and your eyes roll into the back of your head as you cry out in pleasure. She drags your orgasm out for as long as she possibly can before you practically go limp and fall into her.

She pulls her fingers out of you and holds you close, gently rubbing your back and whispering praises into your ear as the aftershocks rock your body. Each time an aftershock causes you to whimper she places a soft kiss into your hair.

"You did so wonderful little mouse. You looked so beautiful cumming all over my fingers. You did such a good job." She whispers as your heartbeat begins to slow and your breaths even out.

"Thank you, my Lady." You say softly, placing an open mouthed kiss on her neck as your head rests in the crook of it.

Exhaustion begins to take over and you can't seem to fight it. Lady Dimitrescu picks up on it and grabs her soap and washes you and herself. When she's finished, she gets out of the tub with you in her arms and dries the both of you off, carrying you to her bed. Laying you down, she curls up next to you and pulls the covers over the two of you. Her arm wraps around your waist and pulls you closer.

She places a kiss on your forehead and you fight to open your eyes for a moment. Lady Dimitrescu gazes into your tired eyes and you notice that look again, this time you're certain she's looking at you with admiration.

"Go to sleep little mouse." She says, kissing your forehead once more.

Your eyes flutter closed and you think to yourself "I love you."

Lady Dimitrescu watches as you lose the battle to keep your eyes open. Just as you're falling asleep you say "I love you." It was so soft she wouldn't have heard it if she didn't have supersonic hearing. She gently kisses the corner of your mouth and cuddles you into her.

"Goodnight my sweet girl." She whispers before falling fast asleep.

#willalove75 #wlw fanfic #lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #lady alcina #lady dimitrescu fanfic #lady dimitrescu x reader #alcina x female reader #alcina x reader #re8 alcina #alcina dimitriscu x reader

[harunayuuka2060]

Kid Akihiko: *6 years old*

His maid: My lady, do you like your new dress?

Kid Akihiko: ...

Kid Akihiko: *fake smiles* I love it!

His maid: *sighs in relief*

Kid Akihiko: *still smiling* Nanny? Is there any news about my little brother?

His maid: Oh, Young master Yuurin will arrive home today.

His maid: Are you excited to finally meet him?

Kid Akihiko: *nods*

His maid: *smiles* That's good, Lady Akane. But don't overexert yourself.

His maid: We don't want you getting sick.

Kid Akihiko: Okay~.

Yuurin's mother: It's good to be back, isn't it?

Yuurin's father: Come here, son. Let your father carry you this time.

Yuurin's mother: *chuckles* But I'm not done with him, dear.

Yuurin's father: Let me bond with him at least.

Yuurin's mother: No can't do~.

Kid Akihiko: *watching his parents dote on Yuurin*

Kid Akihiko: ...

Kid Akihiko: *decides to approach them later*

Their mother: Akane, I love your dress today. It's cute and stylish.

Kid Akihiko: *smiles* Thank you, mother. Nanny sewed this dress for me.

Their mother: Did she? *chuckles*

Their mother: Ah! Before I forget!

Their mother: Yuurin? This is your older sister. Say hi to her~.

Baby Yuurin: *looks at Akihiko* *then her eyes sparkle*

Kid Akihiko: !!!

Their father: Looks like our son wants to play with his sister.

Their mother: Hmm... Alright.

Their mother: But don't tire yourself out, Akane. *smiles at them*

Their mother and father: *takes their leave*

Kid Akihiko: ...

Baby Yuurin: *approaches her brother*

Kid Akihiko: *expecting to be called "sister"*

Baby Yuurin: *hugs Akihiko* Nii-nii!

Kid Akihiko: ...

Kid Akihiko: Huh?

Leona: So Yuurin recognized that you were her brother on your first meeting? *talking with Akihiko on the phone*

Akihiko: *chuckles* Yes. I was really happy that time.

Akihiko: Eventually, I had to teach her to call me "sister" when someone was around. Besides, we didn't want to be caught.

Akihiko: But whenever we were alone in the house, we would play dress up and I would lend her my clothes.

Akihiko: While she, on the other hand, would draw me a fake mustache on my face.

Akihiko: Good thing she never used a permanent marker.

Leona and Akihiko: *chuckles*

Yuurin: Aki, were you on the phone with someone? Your line was busy.

Akihiko: Oh, yes. I was chatting with a friend. *chuckles*

Yuurin: I see.

Akihiko: Yuurin?

Yuurin: Yes?

Akihiko: Brother loves you, bluebell.

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: *smiles* Me too, Aki.

Akihiko: *chuckles* Why did it take you a second to answer?

Yuurin: Because you said it out of nowhere.

Akihiko: Hmm... You're making me sad now. Just kidding. *chuckles*

Yuurin: *shaking her head*

Leal: Master Akihiko-

Akihiko: *has coughed up blood after his phone call with Yuurin*

Leal: ...

Leal: Let me clean you up.

Akihiko: Yes. Thank you, Leal.

Leal: ...

Leal: It seems your condition is getting worse.

Akihiko: I didn't ask for your comment.

Leal: ...

Leal: I'm sorry.

Akihiko: ...

Akihiko: You do not need to worry yourself.

Akihiko: I'll manage to hold on until Yuurin's debut... no, it'll have to be a week after her 18th birthday.

Akihiko: I won't make her sad on her special day.

Leal: ...

Leal: As you wish, Master Akihiko.

#twisted wonderland #twst yuurin #twst akihiko/akane #twst leona #twst oc leal #twst unveil

[milfsloverblog]

How Eve Felt (NSFW)

Jane Murdstone x Fem!reader

A/N: Listen, this is just pure filth. 1500 words of porn without plot. Nothing but Jane Murdstone smut. I started this WIP months ago and thought I’d never publish it but a few of you liked the snippet I shared, so... Anyway, enjoy <3

tw: spit kink, mention of Christianity related stuff (this is how I deal with my religious trauma)

✨ AO3 LINK IN TITLE ✨

You always tried your best to keep your eyes away from your lady’s flesh when you undressed her. That night had been no different as you only looked at your fingers working on the lacing of her corset.

Jane stayed quiet for a while, her eyes never leaving your reflection in the mirror as you worked behind her.

“You did say this was your first time working as a lady’s maid, didn’t you?” She asked, her voice as stern as it usually was.

“Yes, Miss Murdstone.” You nodded and carefully peeled the corset from her, folding it before placing it by her dress on the chair.

“In that case,” She said as she turned around to face you, cocking her head a little. “I cannot help but wonder where on earth you have learnt how to undress a woman so swiftly.”

You swallowed thickly. Your eyes had caught sight of the swell of her small breasts under her chemise and it instantly made your throat go dry.

What were you supposed to tell her? Oh, well, I have undressed my fair share of women, right before laying with them.

“Well?” She insisted. “Cat got your tongue?!”

You knew then by the smirk on her face that Miss Murdstone probably had a good idea of how you’d become an expert at undressing the fairer sex.

“I suppose I'm a quick learner, my lady.” You simply answered, hoping it would satisfy the tall woman’s curiosity.

Jane narrowed her eyes, silently looking at you for a moment while the gears turned in her head.

“Take my chemise off.” She eventually ordered in a bark.

It felt like she was testing you. Sure, this was part of what a lady’s maid had to do but the way she said it, it did feel like she was testing you.

You ended up doing as you were told, silently thanking your hands for not shaking too much when you grabbed the hem of her chemise and pulled the garment over her head.

Don’t look. Don’t look. Do not look.

“Look at me.” Jane demanded, your eyes immediately snapping from your hands to her face.

“I am looking at you, Miss Murdstone.”

“Look at me the way you really wish to.” She smirked again and you were sure your thumping heartbeat could be heard throughout the whole household.

You exhaled shakily and eventually moved your gaze from her eyes to her nose, then down to her mouth. What would it be like to kiss her? To lick over the scar on her lip? To have her tongue push into your mouth?

You spent a few seconds on the length of her neck, watching her pulse point steadily move up and down. From the look of it, she didn’t seem nervous about what was happening, at least not as much as you were.

Her shoulders were next, pulling a smile from your lips. It was a funny thing, really, for a cold and metallic woman like Jane to have such an inviting freckled skin.

Your breath hitched in your throat when your eyes landed on her chest, her nipples visibly hardening as you took in her pert breasts.

“Miss Murdstone, we should not-“ You were cut off by Jane’s hand roughly grabbing hold of your face, her fingertips digging almost painfully into your cheeks.

“And who decides on what we should or should not do, hm?” She asked, using a honey-dripping voice as if she wasn’t holding you with a vice-like grip.

“You, Miss Murdstone.” You whispered barely audibly, nearly letting a whine out when she let go of your jaw.

“Good.” She gave a slight nod and sat down on the edge of the bed, her eyes never leaving yours.

Your eyes widened when you noticed that she was slowly spreading her legs. Her lips pulled in a devilish smirk seeing how your face twitched as you tried your best to keep your eyes locked on hers, knowing full well the sight that would be waiting for you if you allowed yourself to look down at her crotchless bloomers.

Jane had to admit that she was impressed by your self-restraint, many girls would have run for the door while some, fewer, would have touched her already.

“Kneel.” She barked, delighting in the way you slightly jumped at the unexpected order.

Your legs wobbled and you fell to your knees like a devotee praying at the altar. Your gaze inevitably fell on the wet pink flesh between her legs, your mouth watering at how inviting it looked.

“Well, do come closer!” Jane spoke as if she was in a hurry and for a split second you wondered if she was eager to feel you on her.

You did as you were told, crawling closer until you were kneeling between her legs and tentatively placed your hands on her covered knees. Jane raised an eyebrow at the boldness of your move but decided she would allow it.

“I assume you have done this before, haven’t you?” The woman asked, her chin never lowering as she looked down at you, making her appear even more condescending.

“Have I ever found myself between a woman’s legs? Yes. Have I ever knelt before one? No.” But I don’t mind kneeling for you. I don’t mind praying at your altar. I would spend the rest of my life on my knees if you asked me to. I do want to worship you.

“Let us make it a memorable first time, shall we?” Jane purred and her fingers took hold of your face again, gentler than they did before.

She tilted your head back as far as it would go and pried your jaws open, chuckling when you stuck your tongue out instinctively.

“Aren’t you a well-trained slut?” Jane cooed, gathering the saliva in her mouth and slowly letting it fall on your tongue, a wave of arousal coating her sex when your pupils dilated.

The older woman raised an eyebrow and, knowing exactly what was expected of you, you closed your eyes and swallowed. You couldn’t help but be reminded of your first Holy Communion when, kneeling before the priest, the sacred host had been placed on your tongue.

You almost let an Amen slip from your lips when Jane suddenly grabbed a handful of your hair and your eyes snapped back open.

“How many women have you laid with?”

“Plenty.” You admitted in a whisper, wondering how many Jane had shared her bed with.

“Prove it.” She smirked, bringing your face closer to her cunt.

You didn’t waste any more time and dipped your thumbs into the warmth between Jane’s legs, brushing the tip of one thumb over her clit to watch the way her whole body responded. Jane jerked, hips canting forward, and you hid your grin by placing a soft kiss on the milky skin of her inner thigh. The woman’s breath hitched and you wondered if it was caused by her not expecting any softness from you (or anyone else).

Keeping your fingers holding Jane open, you leaned in closer, blowing lightly over her cunt before burying your face in it. You wrapped your lips around the woman’s clit and sucked sharply, Jane’s body jolting above you as a moan tore itself from the back of her throat.

The woman opened her mouth to speak but cut herself off as you sucked harder, drawing tight circles around her clit. Moving one hand from where you had it braced around Jane’s thigh, you pushed your thumb into her entrance, tugging at her opening and massaging inside of her. The streak of moans that escaped your lady’s lips made your whole body shudder.

Then suddenly her hand snaked back in your hair, holding tightly and so close to your scalp that you felt your skin burn. Jane pressed you so deep into herself you could hardly breathe. She had taken back control of herself, and of you as well. You fisted the material of Jane’s drawers and squeezed your eyes shut as your tongue was ridden, your lady grinding herself into your mouth exactly how she wanted, how she needed.

Feverish shivers ran down your spine, your knees slowly sliding open on the wood flooring. You wished you had tucked a pillow between your legs before this began so you could ride out your own pleasure as you dripped from having your face fucked. But your lady wouldn’t have allowed it, you were quite certain she enjoyed having you squirm helplessly.

Jane’s movements became erratic, her chest quickly heaving up and down as she desperately chased her release. And then you felt it. You felt her come. You felt the cruelest woman you knew come into your mouth, her clit throbbing against your tongue as she let a single loud guttural moan out.

As the hand on the back of your head loosened its grip, you slumped against the older woman’s thigh. And as you knelt there, half of your face slick and chin dripping with Jane’s essence, you wondered - is this how Eve felt, taking the first bite of the forbidden fruit, as pomegranate juice dripped on her naked breasts from her open lips?

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tag list: @mysteriouslysapphic @opheliauniverse @yourlocaldisneyvillain @notinmyvocab @h-doodles @teeniegreeniebeanie @katie-bennet @willowshadenox @bikergurl5 @renravens

#gwendoline christie #jane murdstone x reader #jane murdstone #the personal history of david copperfield #I felt so seen when you guys said you’d let Jane spit in your mouth #me when I get to the gates of heaven and they pull out this fic 😀 #no beta we die like larissa #larissa weems x reader

[kinktae]

most undesirable || (M)

Spring has sprung and engagement is on the forefront of all of Regency London's young ladies' minds. All except for yours, of course– the Queen's niece who a certain notorious author has named the Ton's most undesirable.

pairing: lord!jungkook x lady!reader

word count: 5k

genre: BRIDGERTON AU, regency era, angst, eventual smut

warnings: cocaine usage (not oc or jk), oc has dead parents

A/N: this fic was commissioned by the lovely Baby. As per her request, it features me and our beloved izzy! please do let me know if you would like a part two, i have big plans for whats to come next ;)

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PART ONE **UNEDITED**

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A word of profanity left your painted lips as the outsoles of your lace-up boots danced across the limestone floor of the palace, making haste but not in a manner that was unbecoming, your head held high despite your mood running low.

You reached the door of Her Majesty's room with purpose, hands fiddling with the satin of your dress to make sure it covered your shoes. It wasn't that you didn't appreciate the influx of garments your dear aunt had gifted you upon your arrival. Still, the heels Her Majesty had deemed in style this season were particularly uncomfortable. She would no doubt grow sour to see you parading in countryside shoes in her home.

"Your highness." One of the oldest guards snickered, his eyes flicking towards you knowingly as he and another guard moved to open the grand doors to their Queen's private quarters.

You crunched your nose, "Shh." 

Of course, the guards had already read the paper… Rotten gossips.

Willing a smile onto your face, you were let into the room. Your aunt sat at her sofa, the furniture floral in design, its fabric dyed a luxurious red. Between her hands were the source of your dismay, the newest Lady Whistledown papers fresh off the press. 

You hadn't had the pleasure of reading this week's issue personally, but word traveled outrageously fast in the palace; both maids and guards suckers for a good scandal. You knew quite intimately the matter of its content as you were the matter of its content.

"Ah. Niece. There you are.” The Queen called you over, setting the paper down beside her unceremoniously.

You walked closer stiffly, "Aunt Charlotte, you wished to speak to me?"

"You know I adore you, don't you? You're like a breath of fresh air in this miserably dull palace."

Your once tense shoulders relaxed instantly, taking comfort in knowing she hadn't called you in for a scolding.

"It is you that lights up every room you enter, your Majesty." You bowed your head slightly, knowing well that flattery was your best line of defense should the tides change against you. 

"I do, don't I?" She agreed with a grin, before it fell off her face suddenly. "Sorry– whatever were we talking about?"

"Um–"

"Ah, yes! Well, there's no point mincing words. I'm sure you've seen it by now. I mean, can you believe it? That sorrowful sow Whistledown attempting to soil the reputation of my bloodline with such a frivolous title as… as…" She snapped her fingers, forgetting the word she was looking for.

The sound echoed throughout her enormous chambers, currently barren as your aunt was in the process of renovating.

"Ice Princess." You reminded her quietly. She tutted her tongue in recognition.

"How tactless, how tasteless! It is me who sets reputations. Not her. No, no, this simply won't do."

You watched in silence as she pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Remind me, darling. Why weren't you at the Danbury Ball?"

You shifted, thinking back on the excuse you had given her, "I was… ill."

It was a lie, of course. You had been feeling quite well actually when notice of the ball came 'round. But could anyone fault you? Ballrooms and gowns weren't exactly your area of expertise.

Growing up, your mother and your aunt couldn't be more different; you often heard stories of the two sisters butting heads from your grandfather. One sister went on to marry the king of England, the other a humble traveling merchant. One stood throne in England; the other lived simply in France's countryside. Despite their differences, it was no secret that your aunt loved her older sister dearly, writing to her often in hopes of convincing her to come move to England. When she learned that your mother was with child, she even went as far as to purchase land for her sister and soon to be niece.

But your mother was every bit as stubborn as she was kind. She loved her husband and the life she had built with him, staying by his side until she passed last year. Your poor father was grief-stricken; by eight months, the stress on his heart had become too much, dying nearly a year after your mother.

It was your aunt who had reached out first, offering her deepest condolences and, far more noticeably, all the money you could ever need and your very own suite in the palace.

You weren't exactly sure why you had agreed to such a lucrative proposal. You, much like your mother, adored the countryside and the small town you grew up in. And perhaps that was why you agreed, not to move in, but instead to visit. She was family, after all, something you didn't have very much of left, though you have since come to know of a cousin Friedrich, recently married to an Edwina Sharma that your aunt raved on and on about.

In the week you had been here, you had come to know far more about British aristocracy than you ever wished to know, entirely out of your element amidst the corsets and personal maids. Only recently had you managed to lower your number of attending maids to two, a far cry from the original seven you were greeted with.

You did your best to fit in, but you were no fool. You knew nothing of soireés– or how to dance for that matter, so the moment your aunt spoke of a ball, you knew you had to conjure up some excuse as to why you woefully must decline.

"Exactly! For heaven's sake, you were ill. How dare Whistledown suggest otherwise." She gestured at the staff in the room as though they were her audience.

The sound of the Queen's chamber doors being thrown stole the attention of everyone in the room. Unsurprising to you, two young maids barreling in, tripping on each other.

"S-Sorry, Your Majesty!" The blonde stuttered out.

The brunette nodded in agreement, "Our apologies, Your Majesty. We didn't know where her highness had gone–"

"–We came running as soon as we realized she had snuck off."

Isabella and Roselia. Of course. Your two personal maids. You had only just managed to shake them from your trail when you heard the news that the Queen had sent for you. You should have figured they'd inevitably catch up with you.

They were pleasant enough company, the duo were quite funny, actually, but the constant shadowing was something you learned you rather detested. You understood they were under strict orders by the Queen to ensure your every need was attended to but still… surely even nobility understood the concept of wanting to have a moment alone?

"Oh— Are we interrupting something?" Roselia's cheeks went pink, eyes running over the room as she took note of the Queen's pursed mouth. "We'll just… we can wait outside actually."

"Outside, right! We'll be just outside." Isabella chimed in, heading bowing as the brunette maid yanked her back and out of the room.

"Sorry for the intrusion!"

You stifled a snicker, watching as the young maids slipped back out of the Queen's chambers, shutting the grand doors as they went. Your aunt merely rolled her eyes at the bumbling maids.

Suddenly, her Majesty sniffed, and it was as if a switch had been flipped. All her maids ran towards her, offering handkerchiefs as if their life depended on it. You nearly laughed at such a ridiculous display of servitude, but seeing as you had spent well over a week in the palace, you had become accustomed to such theatrics.

"Whistledown is right about one thing, you know." Queen Charlotte said as her nose was blotted at. "Everyone needs to meet you. And meet you they shall."

In surprise, you pulled your eyes from the doting maids, "They shall?"

"Certainly. We shall have a ball. Here in the palace, of course."

You felt your stomach plummet into your leather-bound boots, your aunt's words echoing.

"All of London's marriage-minded ladies and lords are to be invited. We'll show Whistledown just how splendid you are. Oh! How glorious if you were to find a suitor! That certainly would put to rest that frozen title once and for all."

Just faintly, you could make out the sound of white noise buzzing, mixing with the words the Queen spoke. Anxiety flooded you, deafening your brain's attempts to self-soothe and rationalize that this wasn't the catastrophe you felt it was.

"Aunt Charlotte," you tried to swallow, but your mouth felt stripped of all moisture, "I… I'm not sure if that is wise–"

But it was as if she hadn't heard you, rambling on as if you hadn't objected, "I'll be arranging for etiquette and dance lessons since my beloved sister undoubtedly failed to do the same for you. Are you free this afternoon, darling?"

You stood for a moment, no doubt looking foolish as you struggled to get your words out, "I… I suppose I am…"

"Dear, you look like you’ve just seen a ghost. Are you feeling well?" The Queen cocked her head at you, eyes sizing you up with concern.

"I… I am not feeling my best." You admitted.

"That's the second time now. Growing up in the countryside— all that sun and dirt— it's made you weak of constitution. Hm. Very well. We'll wait until you're feeling better. In the meantime, I will begin planning!"

You averted your eyes politely as she bent over suddenly, inhaling a white powder off her tea tray through a nostril. She sat up with an exhale, eyes fluttering open with a smile.

"Oh, how I love having you come to stay in the palace for a change. I'm terribly bored these days, you know." She sighed. "Did you care to assist me with planning?"

Despite how you felt seconds from unearthing your already digested lunch, you managed an apologetic smile, "I'm not sure I'd be of much help. I'm afraid I've never hosted a party before."

"Yes, my dearly departed sister never cared much for such things, did she? Such a shame she raised you out of the aristocracy." She said.

A furrow found your brow.

"You're wrong, you know." You disagreed before you could think to hold your tongue. And just like that you had become a magnet, all eyes in the room snapping towards your frame.

"Oh? About?" The Queen offered you a pointed look.

"About the way I was raised. I wouldn't change a thing about it. My mother didn't fail me… she loved me. I had a mother and father who loved me. That was worth more to me than any new dress could ever." You said, gesturing to the gifted garment you adorned today, with perhaps a touch more spite than you should've.

Of two things those in the palace knew to be true. One— Her Majesty was not wrong. Ever. Her opinion was the first to seek and the only to matter. Anyone was someone because she said so, whether explicitly or subtly.

And two— her love for her niece ran deeper than even she anticipated, as watching you stand before her defiantly didn't fill her with rage as the staff in the room assumed, but rather with melancholy. 

You looked like your mother just then. It seemed you reminded her of her sister more and more as the days rolled by.

"Your mother would be pleased to hear that." She merely replied, wondering if her sister might be looking down on you both at this moment. At her words, your entire demeanor softened.

"Very well. Off you go." Your Queen sniffed, a handkerchief at her nose within seconds.

Bowing, you moved to exit the room.

"And niece," she called one last time, causing you to turn around, "must you wear such unsightly footwear under your dress?"

You felt your face grow hot, muttering a quiet apology before exiting the room altogether.

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"Chin up, darling." Your aunt reminded you.

You followed her instructions coolly, hoping you didn't look nearly as nervous as you felt.

It was undoubtedly a soirée for the books; every square inch of the ballroom was gilded in gold, the chandeliers' gleam diffusing luxuriously as it bounced around the room.

Eligible men and women of all shapes and sizes had come from far and wide, donned in their absolute best; every possible hue of pink, blue and purple on display for Her Majesty. The ballroom looked akin to the royal grounds, you thought; the cool-toned dresses reminding you of upside-down bellflowers, floating across the marble floor in a synchronized dance.

Flocks of the most noticeable families and town figures had swarmed their way to the royal estate, drowning themselves in champagne as corseted woman fluttered their eyes at the Ton's lords.

But despite their poised smiles, neither woman nor man spared you more than a cautious glance and courteous bow. As the hours ticked by, you couldn't help but feel increasingly uneasy. Was it fear of Her Majesty sitting beside you that kept them away from you? Or was it the less than auspicious picture a certain faceless author had painted for them about you?

"It's rather hot in here, wouldn't you say?" The Queen spoke to you suddenly, looking larger than life from her magnificent throne.

"I suppose." You agreed absentmindedly, far too occupied with how a group of ladies' eyes flickered your way.

She continued, "Perhaps some champagne will cool you down. Why don't you fetch yourself a glass, dear?"

The meaning behind her words was clear. Go. Socialize.

"A splendid idea." You concurred.

Granting yourself one final shaky breath, you straightened up, walking towards the table where drinks were being freshly poured.

"What shall it be, my lady?" A servant greeted you politely as you reached it.

"A glass of champagne, please." You smiled, grateful for a friendly face, perhaps the first of the night.

The servant nodded, moving to open a new bottle.

"She doesn't even hold a title, you know. That Ice Princess."

You blinked, growing still as your ears caught wind of a conversation between party goers not far from you.

"But she's the Queen's niece?"

A sinking feeling washed over you, the kind that made all the other noise in the room disappear. You flirted briefly with abandoning your spot in the room altogether, but the bubbling pour of golden liquid into a glass kept you still. You thanked the servant with a halfhearted smile.

Bringing the glass to your mouth, you turned an ear to the three gossiping ladies, careful to avoid their gaze.

"Word has it her mother married out of the aristocracy." One of them babbled, pulling noises of disbelief from the others.

"Pity. Though, I suppose that explains the appalling way she walks in heels. You'd think she grew hooves from all that time she spent in the countryside." Another prattled. Stifled giggles rang around the group like they were all in some sort of secret, one that wasn't theirs to know. "Can you believe she thinks herself better than us?"

"One more glass, if you please." You asked the same servant, quickly making your way back to the Queen, now with a glass in either hand.

You approached her wordlessly, merely offering her a glass.

"Ah." She accepted the drink eagerly, and for a moment, there was silence, the two family members enjoying the cool velvety acidity of what was no doubt costly champagne.

"It appears the Ton thinks poorly of me." You blurted out.

You felt rather foolish telling this to your aunt. It wasn't as if you really cared what three cankerous aristocrats thought of you. But who else were you to tell? You knew no one.

Your Aunt Charlotte furrowed her delicately painted brow, "Darling, it'll do you well to realize that this Ton doesn't think. They merely reiterate what they've been told. They don't know you. Never mind what they think they know."

But her words went in one ear and out the other, merely background noise to the way you suddenly felt all eyes on you.

And suddenly, your dress was too tight, the ballroom too small. You felt your breath grow shallow, a sure sign of panic. How may others deemed you the subject of gossip tonight? What else were they saying about you?

"I think I should step out for a moment." You muttered.

"Take your maids with you!"

You were halfway across the room before you could even think to register your aunt's reply. Blinking away your tears, you pushed yourself through the crowd, muttering absentminded apologies as partygoers scoffed in protest.

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How small you felt sitting alone in the palace's rose gardens. You wept on a stone bench, wishing ever so badly that your mother was here, looking back with sorrow at how she used to pull you into her lap whenever you were upset. How she used to wrap her arms around you, and everything seemed better, if even for a moment.

How you missed her. How you missed your father. How you missed your life away from this shining, hollow palace.

But they were gone, and the simple life that awaited you back home was gone. Aunt Charlotte was all the family you had left. Without your parents, your home was gone.

"Oh! My lady… forgive me!"

A soft voice caused you to gasp, turning to face the man that had walked in on your self wallowing.

You were up on your feet in seconds, wiping away at your face. 

"No… no, it is I who should apologize! I'm sorry you had to see me like that." Your cheeks burned.

"See you like what?" The mysterious raven-haired stranger pressed, a note of cheekiness to his tone. "Human? Heaven forbid."

You laughed gently, sniffling away your shame. You knew at once he was no threat to you.

The young lord wasn't exactly sure what had led him to the palace gardens; most of the event seemed to be taking place indoors as the night nipped and chilled unforgivingly. Still, a few stray bodies mingled underneath the string of lights that the palace servants had strung up. He had briefly greeted them, passing through the clouds of cigar smoke and small talk before bounding down limestone stairs.

He had tucked his hands into his pants pockets, sighing as the night's festivities grew quieter the further he slipped away, the crunch of wet grass kissing the underneath of his dress shoes. His mind was heavy with thoughts, hardly noticing where his legs had taken him.

It was the sound of your cries that pulled him from his thoughts and jerked him back to his senses.

He was in the Queen's rose garden; he immediately recognized the vibrant flowers and tall bushes. What he failed to recognize, however, was the weeping girl sitting on a stone bench, a look of embarrassment written plainly on her pretty face as she realized she was not alone.

He was quite handsome, you noticed despite your humiliation. He was younger than most of the lords inside, his face still featuring a certain softness despite his sharp features. His gaze was inherently kind, his warm brown eyes all but beckoning you to lower your guards.

"Lord Jeon.” He introduced himself with a bow, eyes never leaving yours. "Forgive me if I frightened you, my lady. I shall return at once and grant you your privacy."

You sank back down onto the bench, pulling the shawl wrapped around your shoulders closer. Your dress was beautiful— you were beautiful… puffy eyes, smeared makeup and all. He couldn't imagine why a lady like yourself would be weeping in the rose gardens unattended.

"It's alright. I supposed I'm not the only introvert at this party tonight. The garden is big enough for the two of us."

Lord Jeon shrugged, "A bit of fresh air is good for the soul."

You watched cautiously as he walked closer, sitting beside you on the opposite side of the bench. 

"You know… I've been told I'm a decent listener." He said suddenly, brown eyes admiring the roses surrounding you.

You blinked, "Is that so?"

"Well… not explicitly. But I've got two ears, so I'd say I do alright." He teased.

You smiled softly, contemplating how much to reveal to this stranger.

"It's… I suppose I'm just a bit out of my element here." 

"You?" He seemed surprised, a slight chuckle of disbelief accompanying his question.

"You laughed." You raised a brow.

He bit down on his lower lip as if contemplating his following words.

"Well, it's just… I can't imagine someone like you having trouble at these events." He confessed.

For a moment, you wondered what he could mean. Looking down at your lap, you realized he must be referring to your extraordinarily fanciful garments.

"Ah. These clothes were a gift, and this hair— well, none of this is me. Not really. Truly, I don't know why I came." You sighed. 

He nodded, "Beginning to feel that way myself, actually. Most lose interest when they hear my name. I'm a bit of a nobody, it seems."

"Funny. It would appear you and I have the opposite problem." You nearly laughed.

"Uptown girl, are you?"

"I'm afraid I've got a bit of a reputation. And no one cares to know whether it's true or not." You said.

He let out a sigh.

"Terrible soirée full of terrible people. I can't say that doesn't happen here often."

You let his words hang in the night's cold air, your fingers intertwining themselves across your lap.

"Is that all?"

Your head turned to face him, growing warm to find him already looking at you.

"Forgive me, it's just," he continued, "your sadness… it feels heavier than you're letting on."

He watched as your body language changed, suddenly tense as if you had built your walls back up.

He was back up on his feet within seconds, his shoes coming into view by the bottom of your dress as he stood in front of you.

Swallowing down a sob, you allowed yourself to look up at him.

"May I?" He asked, extending a hand out as if wanting yours.

Hesitantly, you gave it to him, assuming you would be ushered back onto your feet. To your surprise, however, he merely flipped your hand over, your palm now facing the night sky.

Your eyes widened as he took a finger and traced a line onto your palm. 

No. Not A line. A letter.

L-O-V-E-R-? 

He wrote into your palm. You stared at your hand, skin still buzzing faintly from where his finger had run across.

His mother used to do such a thing when he was younger and much angrier, often struggling to say the words when something troubled him. He only hoped it would work for you the way he had for him.

Frowning, you shook your head. He wrote once again.

F-A-M-I-L-Y-?

A tear fell from you as if instinctively. You nodded your head, confirming his suspicions. Spurred on by his touch, you moved to grab his hand, flipping it upside down as he had done to yours.

L-O-N-E-L-Y you wrote.

"… I just wish I had a little bit longer with them." You found yourself saying once you had finished.

"No time is enough when it comes to the people you love." He spoke with heart as if referring to his own personal melancholy.

Another tear fell from your eyes as his thumb ran over your palm, not to spell anything but to offer his condolences.

"No. I suppose not." You sniffed, a shiver running over you as a crisp breeze passed the two of you.

He wrote into your palm again.

C-O-L-D-?

You let out a laugh, shrugging dismissively.

"Here." Lord Jeon suddenly peeled his suit jacket off his shoulders. You froze, stunned silent as he gently draped it over your shoulders, a gentle smile on his face.

Your chest tightened, moved by the gesture of kindness. But before you could think to thank him, his warm fingers were at your palm once more.

F-R-I-E-N-D-?

His smile tugged at your heartstrings. You wondered how anyone inside could possibly look down on him. You didn't need to know his name to see that he was kind, a worthy suitor for any marriage-minded aristocrat.

F-R-I-E-N-D. You wrote back.

Happy was the girl who sat on the cement bench of the palace's rose garden, wrapped up warm under the jacket of the first person to show you genuine, unconditional kindness since arriving weeks ago.

The two strangers sat in silence for a moment, enjoying the quiet of company. Neither of you knew the other, but there was comfort in the silhouettes of the adjacent shadows at your feet, knowing that neither had ill intent towards the other.

"Do you ever wonder what it might be like to live in a palace?"

You fell stiff, mute as you turned towards him, watching how he looked over at the illuminated estate. 

"Lonely."

"You think?" He pondered.

"I'm not fond of big empty rooms. They tend to make me feel small." You explained quietly.

"Well, should I ever have a palace, there would be no empty rooms. Every room with music and the sound of children's laughter. I would decree it so."

"Children? And where do you figure you might obtain those?" You chuckled.

"Well, they'd be mine, of course." He grinned lopsidedly.

You grinned back at him. "Then the happiest of children they would be."

You suppose the young lord reminded you somewhat of a child. He was a man by every definition of the word, standing tall and proud, but there was something about the way his large eyes took in the palace that was decidedly childlike. Eyes wide and glimmering with awe.

You watched contently as he suddenly noticed the silver plated container that sat by the leg of the bench; an unopened bottle of champagne sat neatly in a bed of ice, several glasses along side it.

Your dear aunt thought of everything when it came to party planning, you were coming to find out.

"Shall we?" He smirked suggestively.

"I don't see why not." You laughed.

The two of you giggled as he attempted to open the bottle, champagne spilling everywhere. He tried to pour you a glass neatly, but your new friend had no future in bartending, champagne spilling over the glass' edge and onto your fingers.

Sticky but smiling, you brought your glass up, mirroring him.

"A toast." He decided, his own glass now only half full from his carelessness.

"To?" You questioned.

He contemplated for a moment, meeting your inquisitive eyes innocently. A boyish smile broke out across his face.

"To us, of course. Tonight's most undesirables." He declared, making you chuckle.

But before you could touch glasses…

"Your highness!"

Your eyes went wide, your stomach dropping as a certain blond maid came scrambling into the garden.

"Isabella! Please! Just 'my lady' will do." Heat rocketed up your neck, ears no doubt hot to the touch. 

Her hands fell to her knees, clearly out of breath from running around the palace grounds, undoubtedly in search of you.

"My lady, I should advise you to return to the party. Her Majesty the Queen has someone she wants you to meet." She cautioned.

You cursed internally.

"Of course, she does. Give me just a moment then. I'll be over shortly."

The young maid's eyes flickered over to Lord Jeon, cheeks rosy.

"But your highness—"

"Thank you, Isabella." You cut her off curtly. 

The young maid gave you two one more final look over before nodded, pardoning herself with a curtesy.

Hesitantly, you turned back towards Lord Jeon, unsure what to make of the look of disbelief clearly written across his face.

Awkwardly, you brought your glass to your mouth, taking a cautious sip.

"Your highness? You're a princess?" He gawked, eyes still wide. 

"No!" You quipped. "Not… technically?"

The young lord merely blinked at you, his doe eyes telling you everything his mouth wasn't.

You were rambling before you could help yourself.

"M-My mother is the Queen's sister. Technically speaking, she held the title of 'Princess.' Though, I suppose if my mother were born a man then, yes, that would make me a princess— titles are patriarchal in nature, it's all… very complicated, really…" 

You felt like you couldn't take in a deep enough breath, the chilly air now burning your lungs.

"So… not a princess. Just… daughter of a princess." He reiterated, clearly stunned.

You felt a frown form on your face, all your etiquette instructor's reminders of poise and manners slipping from your mind.

"I am the Queen's niece. We shall leave it at that."

The handsome lord had the most fascinated look on his face, eyes locked on the way your jaw twitched, mouth shut rigidly to hold back the slew of word vomit you instinctively felt compelled to let out.

The way he held your eyes – the intensity behind his dark orbs – made you uneasy yet engrossed you all the same.

You bit down on the side of your cheek, "Are you upset that I didn't tell you?"

He shook his head suddenly as if trying to shake off his shock.

"No. I'm not."

"Are you… disappointed?" You grimaced.

You hadn't the faintest clue as to what was running around in his handsome head.

"Disappointed?" He cocked his head.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what the hell you're thinking right now, and it's frankly unnerving." You frowned.

The raven-haired man let out a noise that toed the line between amusement and disbelief. 

"I think you owe me a toast… your highness." He teased.

Rolling your eyes, you failed to fight back a smile, bringing your champagne glass up to meet his, his smirk assuring you that whoever your aunt wished you to meet could wait a moment or two. 

#jungkook smut #bts smut #bts #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts jungkook #bts reactions #bts scenarios #bangtan smut #bts fanfics #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fanfics #bts imagines #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #bangtan x reader #jeongguk smut #jeon jeongguk #bridgerton #bridgerton au

[startwelve]

🎨The muse

Benedict Bridgerton x fem reader

Synopsis: Benedict asks his maid to be his muse...

Warning: Slight smut and English is not my first language.

The day was rainy, though the sun persisted in the sky. The room echoed with the pitter-patter of rain against the windowpane and the soft brush of the brush against the canvas. Benedict held his breath as his eyes glided between the painting and his model.

"Could you stay still for a moment?" he raised an eyebrow.

"My apologies. It's the first time I've posed for such a purpose," the model responded.

"I understand."

The night before, Benedict ventured into the servants' quarters and requested the youngest and most beautiful, Emily, to be his muse. Though she initially refused, she eventually agreed to the offer of generous remuneration. Now, she sat on an elegant sofa, clad in a dress she could never own… All hidden from the Bridgerton family and society to avoid any scandal.

Benedict's eyes roamed over Emily, from her reddish hair to her pale shoulders, and back again. Her attire, too revealing for his taste; but the canvas would not judge.

Benedict dipped his brush into a jar of paint and began to apply colors to the canvas with swift strokes, a faint smile dancing on his lips as he worked.

He continued painting, his brush moving skillfully to capture the essence of his model. He paused for a moment, furrowing his brow slightly.

-"Miss Emily, could I request a few minutes of your time after our session concludes?" There was a pause, then he continued. "I mean, after I've finished my representation of you?"

She frowned, not understanding the implication.

-"Oh, yes, of course."

-"Thank you, Miss Emily." Benedict's eyes returned to the canvas, his concentration unwavering. After a few more minutes, he finally set down his brush and took a step back to admire his work. "Would you mind observing my progress so far, Emily?" he inquired.

-"Yes, may I move now?"

Benedict smiled.

-"Of course, you may move now." He reclined on a table, waiting for Emily to leave the sofa. He couldn't wait to show her how he had captured her beauty on canvas.

She rose and approached the canvas to gaze upon it. Upon seeing it, she was astonished.

-"Is it me?" she whispered.

Benedict nodded.

-"Yes, it is," he replied, with a slight blush on his cheeks. "I think it looks… lovely," he added. "I've tried to portray you as you are, as you appear before my eyes."

Her cheeks colored, and she thanked him in a whisper, while nervously toying with the fabric of her dress.

Benedict smiled gently but remained silent. He noticed how Emily's dress had caught his attention, and he couldn't deny that it had a similar effect on him.

Clearing his throat, Benedict resumed the conversation: "Miss Emily… you are an extraordinary woman; I truly enjoyed this session… But I also must complete this portrait. Would you be willing to pose for me again?"

She nodded, though some doubts lingered in her mind.

"Let me ask you a question," Emily said.

"Of course," Benedict responded, intrigued to know where her question was leading.

"Why did you choose me, a maid, as your model when there are high society ladies who would be willing to do so?"

A gentle smile appeared on Benedict's face.

"Ah, of course," he replied slowly. "It's because I'm an artist, Emily, and I see you as you are. High society ladies have been pampered all their lives, so their appearances are somewhat artificial, and their minds often lack substance," he explained. "But a maid like you, a simple and hardworking woman, possesses an authenticity in your beauty and personality that I find inspiring."

She didn't know what to respond, and they both fell silent, creating an atmosphere between them until she asked:

"May I ask another question?"

Benedict nodded and encouraged her to continue.

"Of course, ask, Emily," he said, with a slight smile on his lips as he looked at her.

"Where does this beautiful dress come from?"

Benedict chuckled softly as he watched Emily, the picture of innocence and wonder.

"This dress," he said, walking to the dresser behind her. "It belongs to my lovely sister, Daphne…" he said casually.

Emily looked at him in disbelief, unable to believe it.

"If your sister found out I borrowed one of her dresses, she would dismiss me."

Benedict put a finger to his lips, asking Emily to keep the secret.

"No one needs to find out, alright, Emily?" he asked, looking at her as if his life depended on her answer. She nodded, and Benedict let out a deep sigh, releasing the tension that had been building up unnoticed. "Thank you, Emily," he said, with gratitude in his tone. I assure you I won't allow anything to happen to you. Now, shall we continue working on this portrait?" he asked, approaching the easel to resume painting.

She settled on the sofa, and Benedict began painting again, adding shadows and lights to the canvas. He had grown accustomed to seeing Emily on the sofa, in her dress.

After a few minutes of intense concentration, Benedict reclined again on the table and stared fixedly at the canvas, with Emily's figure in front of him.

"Emily," he began, addressing her. "May I ask you a question?"

"Yes."

"Would you be willing to be my muse… not just today, but for… a long time?" he said, shifting his gaze back to Emily's eyes once more.

His words hinted at something more, something that transcended the simple request to be a muse. However, perhaps Emily didn't care about what lay behind this proposal. After all, Emily was quite delighted with the dress she was wearing…

"I… your muse?"

"Yes, Emily," Benedict began, his tone becoming more confident with each word. "I want you to be my muse for all my paintings, as long as you allow me," he said, looking deeply into Emily's eyes. "Your beauty is extraordinary and inspiring, Emily, and I want to capture it in every work I do. And if you permit me, I'll paint you every day," he added, waiting for her response.

"I don't know what to say."

"Just say 'Yes,'" Benedict whispered, taking slow steps towards her.

As the wind howled outside and the rain beat against the windows, Benedict's eyes met Emily's, while he held his breath, awaiting her response.

"Yes…"

When Emily's voice broke the silence that had settled in the room, Benedict's heart beat fast. He took another step towards Emily. He couldn't believe that she had agreed to pose for him day after day. The idea excited him tremendously.

"I'll paint you with all my heart," he promised finally, with his eyes fixed on Emily's.

She smiled softly.

Benedict sat beside her, and a hand rested on her cheek. He leaned in slowly and kissed her lips. Benedict's fingers slid to the buttons of Emily's dress as he moved closer. He unbuttoned one, then another button, before allowing the soft folds of the dress to slide off her body, setting her free.

Benedict's eyes continued to admire Emily's body as he bit his lower

lip. He wouldn't stop exploring until he had seen every inch of that body, and then… he would paint it, over and over again…

Benedict's hand moved to Emily's arm, his fingers tracing lines along her skin. She looked away, her cheeks flushed.

"Look at me," he said, gently stroking her chin.

The heat between them was palpable.

Benedict's finger traced the line of Emily's bare shoulder, smiling as he saw how the light made her skin glow. His eyes traveled every inch of her body.

Benedict's hands returned to Emily's chin, forcing her to look at him.

She couldn't believe what was happening between them, and a feeling of desire took hold of her.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, with his eyes fixed on Emily's lips as he spoke.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"Emily…" Benedict whispered. "I want to hear something more than your 'thank yous'…" he said, his eyes fixed on her lips. As he spoke, his fingers moved to the button of her corset and began to unfasten it.

Benedict watched as Emily's cheeks flushed, while her body slowly became exposed to him. As the corset fell, he allowed his hands to gently return to her cheeks, her hair now falling on both sides of her face.

"You're breathing so fast," Benedict whispered, running his fingers gently along her collarbone. "Let me calm your heartbeat, Emily…"

He opened his mouth to speak, but instead of words, he emitted a soft sigh.

Benedict smiled as he used his hands to gently push Emily back onto the sofa. With her bare back against the sofa, Benedict leaned forward and began to kiss her neck softly, before moving his lips to kiss the soft part of her shoulder.

He could feel Emily's heart beating between his fingers. "I believe…" he whispered, taking a second, before speaking again. "I believe I enjoy making you feel this way, Emily."

Emily's breath became heavier the longer they spent together, and a slight blush covered her body, as the heat between them was enough to fill the room.

He continued to trace his fingers along Emily's body, while kissing every part of it. Slowly, but surely, they were heading where both minds were thinking.

As the sound of the rain outside faded away in the midst of the pleasure between them, their breaths became one.

Emily's arms wrapped around Benedict as their lips met once more. And when they finished, Benedict's chest rose and fell at a rapid pace.

Benedict's eyes filled with amazement as he stared at her. He hadn't realized he could desire something more than just her body; he wanted her mind, her soul. Was it possible what the poets wrote? Was it possible to fall in love in a day?

#fanfic #bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton smut #benedict bridgerton imagine #benedict x you #benedict x reader #benedict bridgerton fic #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton x you #bridgerton netflix #benedict bridgerton x maid #x reader #fem reader #reader fanfiction #female

[tu-sugar-mami]

If I may, I have a request for an Alcina x reader!

You’ve been invited to Alcina’s chambers a few times now and she’s grown fond of you, and you of her. Alcina’s true feelings for you are revealed after an incident where she realizes how great her fear of losing you is.

Oh. My. Goodnessssssss I promise I was gonna write a like 500 or 1k at most lil story and I ended up writing 3,300 words lmaooo this request is so good I SWEAR aaaa thank you for sending it and I'm sorry it took me so long to finish it I got so carried away. Welp, I hope you enjoy it!

°female reader, not beta read, slight angst, happy ending, canon typical violence I guess, ladies and gentlemen for the first time: oblivious Alcina Dimitrescu

3,300 words

_______________________________________

When you first arrived at Castle Dimitrescu it was with uncertainty and fear in every step. Whatever awaited you past the doors was unknown territory, and in the back of your mind, the horror stories told by the elders in the village resonated within you. Alas, like any other maid searching for refuge in that castle, you were not there willingly. The village resources were scarce and the fear of your cabin along with yourself being torn at night by the neverending waves of lycans were enough reasons for you to try to find employment within the Dimitrescu household.

You were accepted into the staff quicker than you would have expected, and soon enough you started working quietly and efficiently. 

Whether it was your silent enjoyment for cleaning or the unbothered reaction to the daughters' games and deliberate bloodied messes (no one could blame you, really, not when you spend all your life waiting for your end with welcoming arms), there was indeed something that caught the Lady's eyes. 

Perhaps it was the lonely look in your eyes, or perhaps the polite smile that never reached your eye that tugged at Alcina's heart. Could it be maybe that she saw a glimpse of herself before her transformation in you? A woman whose life circumstances made a shell out of her… She started watching you closely from the dark after you witnessed Cassandra having an angry fit with a maid and contrary to what anyone expected you were found completely unbothered by it and began cleaning the mess with dutiful practice. It was odd, the Lady had thought. Not even her oldest staff would be so numb to such display, and yet you –having been part of the staff mere days at the time– were unreactive.

Daniela even seemed to have grown fond of you in the little time you'd been working there. It's no wonder she always told her mother about you, unknowingly feeding the fire of curiosity within the Lady. Yes, she definitely had to investigate. Why were you there in the first place? From then on, the Lady was aware of every little thing you did in search of something that could give her some clarity, although you were none the wiser.

As for yourself… well, you had only seen the Lady from afar once, but it wasn't enough for you to form a solid opinion on her. The villagers had told you stories of what she was capable of, and even though you wouldn't mind having an "ascension to Mother Miranda's heaven" that didn't mean you were actively seeking your early demise.

By your fifth month working at the castle, you had gotten well acquainted with the three Dimitrescu sisters, even going as far as to spend time with them outside of your maid duties. You didn't know what they saw in you to enjoy your company, as far as you were concerned, there was nothing special about you, or at least none that you could see yourself, no special talent other than your well earned skill at crochet and the fine work you did at organizing; both activities usually needing only half of your mind thanks to the simplicity and repetitive movements, leaving the rest of your imagination to fly away. 

Still, cooking with Daniela, crocheting with Cassandra and organizing the library books with Bela were activities that you eagerly looked forward to throughout the day, and unbeknownst to you, Alcina couldn't help but feel a strange warmth in her heart when you spent time with her daughters.

The first time the Lady invited you to have some tea with her, was unexpected. You remember being outside in the backyard, the cold breeze scratching at your reddened cheeks and biting your fingers while you scraped the snow out of the stone stairs with a hand shovel as a punishment from the head maid.

Unsuspecting, you kept focused on your task doing your best to tune out the growing numbness crawling up and reaching your wrists, until a light tap on your shoulders startled you. 

When you turned, the Lady herself stood in front of you, bending forward enough for her hand to reach your kneeling body. 

"What do you think you're doing out here?" She asked, and it could have been your imagination but her voice felt gentler than the other times you've heard her speak to the other maids. 

A thoughtful look painted her features as you recounted how the head maid caught you giving your rationed food to another maid since she had missed her turn at the communal table, and then decided to have you clear the entrance stairs as a form of discipline. Recounting this, you saw the Lady for the first time, truly saw her. You had gotten quite used to only having glimpses of her retreating figure every now and then, but having her in her entire 9 foot tall glory before you was a sight to behold.

She was gorgeous, that was undeniable. The roundness of her jaw and the high cheekbones gave her an inviting aura, but you knew better than that. 

The Lady, observant as always, caught the light shiver of your shoulders, and it was only then that she noticed the lack of proper clothes to wear outside in the unmerciful weather, instead the only thing covering you aside from the standard uniform was a light shawl wrapped around your shoulders like a makeshift blanket. 

"Come." She had told you, and before you could react you were being guided by the shoulders toward the Lady's chambers, on your way to enjoy a quite nice cup of hot honeyed tea to warm you up. 

Surprisingly, the conversation flew comfortably, and you found yourself enjoying the Lady's company, and even if you didn't know it, the Lady felt it way too easy to talk to you.

From then on, you couldn't tell when the reunions became more frequent. Not that you were complaining. Talking to the Lady was always nice, even if at first you were afraid of saying something that would end up with you visiting the cellar, but alas, you grew to enjoy the easy talk, and with time the Lady allowed you to speak freely. 

It was odd after a few months, though, out of nowhere the way the Lady herself would go fetch you instead of sending a maid to summon you. You hadn't seen her pay the same attention to any other maid, but the slowly growing butterflies in your belly fluttered more often than not whenever you saw the Lady on the hall entrance, already waiting for you. Of course no words were needed, you would follow her as soon as the soft smile appeared on her lips.

Perhaps it was the time you spent together with the woman, but you started seeing things that little by little melted your heart and filled you with a gentle buzzing, things that anyone else would completely miss. Despite everyone believing the Lady to be cold and heartless, the reality was all the opposite. The way she looked at her daughters with so much love and softness made your heart warm, the gentle nudges and praise for the treasure and pride that were her three girls were always present. And not only with her family, but she also cared for her maids, in her unique ways, but cared nonetheless. The Lady was nothing if not a fair employer, even if your coworkers wouldn't see it like that.

Yes, the Lady was caring. How else could she remember your specific taste in tea and snacks? Every time you were to visit her chambers, the steaming tea and muffins were already set waiting in a tray on the coffee table.

Soon enough, you felt the same comfort talking to Alcina -as she one warm afternoon urged you to call her- as talking to one of your closest friends. Was it normal for you to always want to be there for her? Probably not, but alas can she blame you? You felt pulled by her like a moth to a flame, the metaphor being more accurate than not, what with the same dangerous fire only a small distance from consuming you. You're positive you could stare at her molten gold eyes until the end of your days if she so allowed. 

Two years of the same routine were more than enough for Alcina to have you wrapped around her finger, and you learned to read her like an open book. Great friends you were after sharing conversations for so long, and even the maids knew you to be her confidante. 

You were happy with your unofficial title, and although you wished you could be something more significant to your Lady, you knew your place very well. In the time you had accompanied the Matriarch, she hadn't really given you reasons to fear her aside perhaps for her anger outbursts, but you knew better than to test your luck. The Lady might have been lenient with you, but that didn't mean she wouldn't dispose of you whenever she found fit, after all what were you, a mere maid, to someone powerful like her? 

Two years and a wonderful three months had passed since that first conversation, until you began to notice a certain change in Alcina's attitude. 

All of a sudden, your usual routine began to crumble. The first thing that shocked you was that you were denied entrance to her chambers for your tea time, and as if that wasn't enough, the sightings of the Lady around you became more and more sparse. She, unknowingly, left you to wonder just what you had done wrong to upset her, and if that was the case, why wasn't she chasing you to put out your candle? Even the daughters' buzzing remained far away from you, and the only thing that came for you after you accidentally did something wrong was silence and solitude rather than the slightly annoyed rolling eyes followed by a small smirk from your Lady.

Perhaps Alcina had just tired of you, and even if it hurt you, you promised yourself you'd move on eventually and continued working as diligently as you had done all this time. 

Turns out that, another three months after your promise, forgetting Alcina still proves hard. No matter in what an unbothered way she had pushed you away, you couldn't force yourself to desist from her…friendship? So that's how you find yourself on your way to offering one last tea. One last hopeful plea before this time letting her go once and for all. 

You're reaching the top of the stairs on your way to your Lady's chambers, when you spot a man trying to open the twin doors on the second floor balcony.

"Who are you?" Your voice startles the man and he turns. There's a slightly manic look in his eyes, and you're immediately weary of him. As of late, the hunters from the village have receded in their attempts at breaking in, but the one in front of you doesn't seem to be in his right mind at all.

"Get him!" Bela's voice thunders from the end of the hall, and you immediately know they're hunting the trespasser.

The man seems to get the hint and makes a run for the stairs, but he's so frantic that he doesn't have enough control to completely dodge your body half blocking the stairs, and as he runs past you his shoulder connects with you harshly.

"Wha–" 

That nudge is all you need to lose your footing on the stairs. The tray you were carrying along with the delicate porcelain teacups falls to the ground with a shattering clash and is at this point that you should worry about your imminent fall from the second floor, but the real reason behind your wince is knowing your Lady's wrath at breaking her favorite china set will not make itself wait if you survive. 

Well, if you're gonna have a bad time anyway, you might as well make the best of it. If you're descending to your downfall, the man will come with you…

The man is not fast enough to dodge your iron grasp on his jacket as you begin spinning down, and the strength you pull him with brings him rolling down in toll.

The man is resilient and whilst tumbling down he tries to break free from your grasp, fighting with you and your fierce scratching retaliation. 

"Let go of me!" He grunts while pulling on your hair harshly in an attempt to make you yield, but you answer by digging your fingers in his eyes.

The edges of the stairs' steps dig hard against you, and soon enough there's sharp pains pulsating in several parts of your body.

In the background you can hear a familiar voice (Daniela maybe… or perhaps Cassandra?) calling for their mother. If you're not mistaken there's also a quickly approaching buzzing sound, but it's muffled by the loud ringing in your ears. 

You land on the tiled floor with a loud splat, and you swear you feel your wrist snap under your weight, but the adrenaline keeps you from acknowledging it, instead your focus is on trying to find your footing shakily and your eyes are pinned to the man that with a great effort manages to crawl away.

The man quickly gets away as good as his legs can allow him, reaching for a nearby dagger that in the fall spilled from his now torn backpack.

"No!" You hear someone yell, and the man with his weapon in hand pounces at you before you can completely stand.

The silver dagger, beautifully intricate and slightly curved, reaches your side, the tip finds its way through your clothes and the harsh hit leaves you breathless. The pain in your body and the lack of air along with the pulsing in your wrist and the dizziness of the fall makes you fall to the floor again on your knees and embrace yourself in an attempt of comfort. The corners of your sight become dark and blurry at times.

"What have you done!" To your surprise, your Lady -who wasn't far behind her daughters when they called for her- finally reaches you both and in a second her hand is wringing the man's neck. 

A groan from you makes Alcina's gaze snap at your limp body on the floor, and her eyes widen as she confirms that the dagger is indeed buried in your side. It takes her a moment to fully process what she's seeing, and in her mind the mantra 'It can't be…' is repeating over and over again.

The damned Dagger Of Death's Flower's -the same dagger that the dirty scum had stolen a few hours prior- is sticking out from your side. 

Her panic sets in, and her eyes become blurry. The overwhelming anger she felt towards the man that dared to touch you is completely overridden by the absolute fear.

Not you… please not like this.

The now unconscious man is thrown carelessly across the room towards the three daughters who have regrouped, Alcina will deal with him later in a much more proper way, for now the only thing in her mind is taking care of your agonizing self. 

Her breathing becomes ragged, and if her heart could still beat, it would be hammering against her chest in fear.

"No… no, no!"

She can't lose you like this.

Her tears are now flowing freely, staining her cheeks with ruined makeup as she kneels and oh so carefully brings your weight onto her lap. She's delicate, more than anyone would have thought her to be, she's so gentle and tender in the way she holds your limp body against hers, and there's a light tremor in her usually steady hand as she clears your face from stray locks. 

Her long time friend, her only one in so long actually, is now walking on the edge between life and death…

Good Lord, why does it feel like the dagger stabbed her heart instead? Why does seeing you like this feel so wrong?

There's deep regret in the way her frown crinkles her forehead. 

There's nothing else she can do for you now, not when the poison from the dagger is in your system. 

Despite Alcina's aversion to touching the dagger, she forces herself to remove it. She won't allow it to pester you more, or tarnish the last memory she'll have of you.

She pulls the weapon with a hard tug, but to her shock the blade comes out clean, there's no spurting blood coming from the supposed wound, and in its place, through the torn fabric she can see a familiar green cover and engraved golden letters. 

A loose sob comes from her, it's wet and definitely unladylike, but the relief she feels it's too immense for her to care about propriety. 

It's a book that hides under the clothes. The book she had gifted you so long ago it's what saved your life. That book that had always annoyed her thanks to your constant insistence for her to read it was the shield that had stopped the poisoned blade from touching you.

Honestly Alcina couldn't be more thankful and relieved.

"Ow…" You mutter against her as she holds you closer, and her laugh mixed with disbelieved sobs drown your complaint. You don't really care though, the familiar and comfortable scent is enough to have you burrow further into the Lady. 

Next thing you know, there's a pair of lips pressing against your forehead. 

"Oh darling, I thought I had lost you…" 

As soon as those words leave Alcina's lips, there's a realization that comes so suddenly to her, falling on her like a bucket of ice. It's when you raise your head and finally look at her with big and teary eyes and smile sheepishly at her, at that moment she knows for the first time that you, her maid and friend, hold her heart in your hands.

This time, without hesitation, her lips fall on yours, gently minding your injuries, but desperate enough for you to feel her relief. You're alive and that's all that matters to her. It doesn't take you a second after before you're kissing her with the same need. 

"Finally…" You hear someone say far behind you, and it takes you a moment to recognize the owner of the voice as Daniela's.

"Let's go treat your wounds." Alcina says before carefully carrying you in her arms bridal style all the way up the stairs until you're out of sight from the daughters and the man now completely forgotten.

Alcina sets you down on her bed and finally lets herself look at you with all the love you deserve. Honestly, it isn't a mystery how she fell for you, but now she can't help but to feel silly at how she avoided the strange feelings she had whenever you were nearby. How could she know those feelings that made her avoid you for so long were in reality quite the strong love?

Well, she did know how, but of course she would tell. 

The many years of her life had taught her that love wasn't for her. Her past had made her blind. Feeling like this after so long, it was almost a new experience for her. It's no wonder then that she didn't know why you made her feel like that in the first place. 

And now, with you having your wounds bandaged and properly kissed better, resting on top of her and nestling your head under her chin as she gently rubs your back, she can't think of you not being in her life ever again.

#alcina dimitrescu #My fic #lady dimitrescu x maiden #requests #lady dimitrescu x female reader #alcina dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu x reader #re8 #lady dimitrescu #alcina x reader

[its-vannah]

Maroon | Jacaerys X Reader

A/N: Y'all, this is some angsty passionate stuff so just prepare yourselves. Thanks again for all the support on the last post, "Lavender Haze"!

Warnings: major angst, implications of 😏 (aged up to 18), major fluff, loveless/arranged marriage, reader has a child

Midnights Masterlist

You lay on Jacaerys plush velvet bed, propped up on your elbows as you watched him hastily button his tunic.

'Cause we lost track of time again

A dreamy smile on your face, you shook your head, "Running late, your highness?"

He shot you a look, raising a brow, "Got a little distracted."

"Did you?" You smirked, suppressing a laugh.

"Your roommate's cheap-ass screw-top rosé, that's how"

With a sigh, he shook his head, his efforts to hide the growing smile on his face failing, "Blame it on the wine, love."

The burgundy on my T-shirt when you splashed your wine into me

"The wine you drank or the wine you spilled down the front of my gown?"

He shrugged, meeting your gaze, "A little bit of both, I suppose."

"Such a gentleman, aren't you? Offering to get me a change of clothes."

Laughing with my feet in your lap

Taking a seat on the edge of the bed, you lifted your feet, allowing him space, before placing them in his lap.

Holding a hand to his heart, Jacaerys pretended to be touched, "Out of concern. And you did get a change of clothes."

A laugh escaped your lips, and your eyes dropped to your body, then back up to him, "Your highness, I'm not sure I'd call your bedsheets a change of clothes."

"I'd say it was an upgrade. Not that you didn't look beautiful in your gown, but I liked the change."

The one I was dancin' with

"I was quite enjoying our dance."

The mark you saw on my collarbone,

He nodded, "As was I. But I quite enjoyed our dance later on in the evening, too. And judging by the marks on your collarbone, you did, too."

Sitting up, you swat the side of his arm, a grin plastered on your face, "Jacaerys Velaryon! Is that how you speak to all of the ladies you court?"

He leaned into you, his lips just barely brushing against yours, "You're the only lady I court."

The lips I used to call home, so scarlet, it was maroon

Smiling against his lips, you leaned into his embrace. You fell back down onto the bed as his lips moved against yours, one hand settling by your waist while the other tangled in your hair.

Suddenly, you pulled away, gently pushing him back, "The sun will rise soon, Jacaerys. I don't want either of us to be on the receiving end of Cregan's wrath if finds us."

Bowing his head, he nods, sliding off of you, "I better be going."

When the silence came, we were shaking blind and hazy

It was silent for a moment, both of your eyes wandering the room.

"Would you like to go for a stroll in the garden—when I return from Driftmark?"

You hugged the sheets around your body, "I would love nothing more."

Nodding, he took a few steps back towards the door, "I'll see you then, my love."

"I'll be waiting." You trailed off as he left the room.

Aside from the state you were in, it was as if he left without a trace.

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

Looked up at the sky and it was

The next morning, you were up before your maid's could even enter the room, a smile spread across your face as you lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling.

You were interrupted by a knock on your door, which opened slowly moments later.

"Sister, are you awake?" A voice called out. Your brother's voice.

Clearing your throat, you respond, "Yes, Cregan."

Closing the doors behind him, he clasped his hands behind his back, "I have some fortunate news for you, my dear sister."

Sitting up straight, you tilt your head, "What is it?"

"I've accepted a marriage proposal for you."

Your heart skipped a beat. Had Jacaerys put in an offer for your hand already?

"That fast? Why, it was only yesterday evening that I—"

But your brother cut you off, "Lord Baratheon said that he couldn't ignore your beauty. He said you'd make an excellent wife."

And I lost you

Your shoulders dropped, "Lord Baratheon?"

"We're you expecting someone else?"

Trying to conceal the events of last night, you shook your head, "Must I be wed to him, Cregan? Can't I wait just a bit longer. I'm only eighteen."

"Our mother was already married and with her second child by the time she was your age, Y/N. It's past time. This may be your only chance."

"Please, Cregan," You begged, rising from your bed, taking his hands in yours, "I'm begging you to reconsider. I'll find another husband, I promise. Please."

He shook his head, "I'm sorry, Y/N. I've already accepted the proposal."

Your eyes began to burn with tears, "Say that you've changed your mind. Please, Cregan, I want to be happy."

He shook his head, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead, "Happiness isn't everything, my dear sister. Duty comes first. I'll leave you to your thoughts."

Exiting your room, Cregan shut the door softly behind him, leaving you in shambles.

How'd we end up on the floor anyway? You say

Falling to your knees, you wrapped your arms around your chest, unable to control the sobs that wracked through your body.

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

Cregan strode into Driftmark nearly a month later, his head held high.

Like you were my closest friend

"Cregan!" Jacaerys called out, smiling as he walked towards him, patting him on the shoulder, "How are you, dear friend?"

The Lord smiled, "I couldn't be happier, my prince. My sister was wed to Lord Baratheon a fortnight ago."

"I didn't think Elizabeth was old enough to marry."

"Lizza? Heavens no, she's only ten and one. I'm speaking of Y/N."

Jacaerys felt his heart sink, "Y/N? She's married?"

"Don't look so shocked, my friend. She's a beautiful girl, it was only a matter of time before she got a proposal."

Cregan continued, "She put up quite the argument, but I believe she'll find happiness with him eventually."

Bracing himself on a wooden table beside him, Jacaerys bowed his head, uneasy.

"Is everything alright, my prince?"

He shook his head, "Cregan, I was going to propose marriage to your sister when I returned from Driftmark."

Cregan paused, "You what?"

"The ball, Cregan. We danced the whole night."

"I didn't realize you were courting my sister."

Ain't that the way shit always ends?

Jacaerys shook his head, "There's nothing I can do, is there?"

"I'm sorry, my prince."

Making his way to the door, he called out behind him, "Excuse me, Lord Cregan."

Sobbin' with your head in your hands

The moment he entered his chambers, he came undone, sobbing into his hands.

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

Two Years Later

And I wake with your memory over me

You sat in your chambers, rocking your son in your arms as you stared out the window, watching as the sun went behind a cloud.

Your son, Lucerys, who you had named after the late prince, gazing up at you.

A small tear trickled down your cheek as you imagined what could have been when your chamber doors swung open, your husband strolling in.

Lord Baratheon planted a kiss on your head, causing you to shudder. But he didn't notice, and if he did, he didn't mention it.

Looking down at your son, he tilt his head, "He looks like you, doesn't he? The same tone of skin, same hair... But he doesn't have your eyes, does he? He doesn't have mine, either."

Swallowing the bike that rose in your throat, you prayed he wouldn't elaborate further.

"Must be from an ancestor," He sighed, "Maybe the next will favor me more."

"Perhaps," You said nervously.

Carnations you had thought were roses, that's us

Pulling out a bundle of carnations from behind his back, Lord Baratheon shoved them towards you, a few petals falling off the stems, "For you, my wife."

"Thank you, my Lord," You still couldn't bare calling him your husband, "I've got my hands full at the moment, but you can set them on the table beside my bed."

He nods, setting them down on the table, "I must be off now. There's a hunt this afternoon."

"Have a good time, my Lord."

"I will. I intend to, at least," He said, turning to exit the chamber, but then he remembered something, "I nearly forgot, we'll be having dinner with your brother and the prince."

You froze, "The prince?"

"Prince Jacaerys," He laughs, "Women don't have the best memories, do they? Regardless, put on your best gown for tonight."

You nodded, "Goodbye, my Lord."

He left after that, shutting your chamber doors behind him.

Looking back down at your son, you waited a few moments before rising from your seat, balancing him on your hip and walking to your door.

Opening it, you slipped through, looking both directions before making your way down the bare hallway.

Turning left, you stop in your tracks, your heart pounding.

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

You were standing hollow-eyed in the hallway

Sensing someone's eyes on him, Prince Jacaerys slowed his walking, turning his head to see what was behind him.

To his surprise, it was you.

And how the blood rushed into my cheeks, so scarlet, it was

You were as beautiful as the day he had left for Driftmark, but you were sad. Your eyes weren't shining as they usually were, and you no longer held your head high.

"Y/N—" He began, taking a step towards you.

That's when the baby in your arms turned to face him, his hair disheveled and his eyes wide. Still missing a few teeth, his smile was endearing.

Jacaerys bowed his head as you adjusted your son in your arms.

Your son began to fuss, suddenly hungry.

Soothing him, you bounced him on your hip, "Hush now, Lucerys, Mum's here."

At hearing his brother's name, Jacaerys closed his eyes, trying to stop the tears from coming, before he met your eyes.

I see you every day now

You gave him the look. The same look you had given him when you told him you'd be waiting. And he gave you the same, gentle smile he had given when he said he'd return.

Moments later, the wetnurse approached you, "My Lady! I've been looking for little Lucerys everywhere! Where have you been? He must be starving!"

"He's starting to get hungry, Gilen," You said.

She sighed, looking up at the prince, "Excuse us, Prince Jacaerys, Lady Y/N is still new to motherhood."

He shook his head, "I think she's an excellent mother."

I feel you no matter what

You nearly cried at his comment, your heart warm again after so long.

Gilen shrugged, "I've seen better. Right this way, my Lady."

Looking back one final time at Jacaerys, you felt your heart break all over again.

Following after Gilen, you turned, little Lucerys now facing the prince.

That's a real fucking legacy to leave

Studying his face, Jacaerys drew one conclusion: He had his eyes.

#jacerys velaryon #jace velaryon #jacaerys targaryen #jacaerys imagine #jacaerys velaryon x reader #prince jacaerys #jacaerys velaryon #jacerys targaryen #jace velaryon x reader #jace valaryon x reader #jacerys x reader #jace has too many last names #jace #house of the dragon fic #house of the dragon #hotd #hotd x reader #hotd fic #fanfiction #midnights #maroon

[first-edition]

Fox and the Hound

sandor clegane x reader

Chapter 6

Previous chapter here

Sum-Joffrey wants to send a message to your family after your brother embarrasses him, so he marries you off to his most unwanted man in his court, the hound. But will this marriage truly be a statement for an eyesore, or will it grow into something more. 

Cw for this chapter- Threatening, Joffrey (we know why), mention of sex, breathing restriction, 18+ language.

Your arm is linked with sansas as you walk through the city courtyard seeing the gold, white, and red decorations. You look up seeing the banners, seeing them draped from windows and strung across the walls. Walking into the town square the space has been cleared and the severent are working to continue the decorations. 

You see joffrey barking orders as merryn trant and hound stand behind him. He notices the two of you and adjusts himself before walking over. 

“My lady sansa. Lady clegane.” he says 

“Your grace” you both say. Your eyes glance up at Sandor before focusing on the king when he speaks. 

“Wonderful don't you think..i think this is just what kingslanding need the festival!'' Joffrey says. 

“It's beautiful.” Sansa acts. 

“Yeah sure, it should be completed in 2 days time i hope the food will be good, come with me my lady, I want to show you where the fool will be performing.” Joffrey says, holding his arm out to sansa. Who takes it? He takes a step as the other two men begin to follow. 

“Not you dog, stay, keep an eye on the bloody workers if they can ever fucking move fast enough.'' Joffrey says before walking off leaving you Sandor and the other guard who assisted you and Sansa on the walk to the courtyard. Sandor nods his head to the guard who must be new by the way he shakes when he sees his superior, and the guard scurries off to fill his place with Sansa and joffrey.

Sandor turns watching as the servants continue to work. It's quiet for a bit before he turns his head to you looking at you. You notice he's looking at you so you look back at him. 

“What?” you ask, his hardened expression doesn't change. 

“What?!” you exclaim as he turns his head back forwards. 

“Are you hurting?” he asks reluctantly. You frown in confusion not understanding what he means until he speaks again. 

“The first time is usually uncomfortable, '' he says. Your ears burn as you realize he's talking about last night in public. 

“O-oh..i'm alright, s-sore. I should ask the same for you.” you say looking up at him. 

“Mm. just cat scratches i've had worse.” he grumbles. 

“I'm not hurt, you know. You didn't hurt me sandor, like you said.” you say taking his hand, his rough palm in your soft one. He looks down to you, feeling your hand in his. 

“The marks…do those hurt?” he asks. 

“Not at all if anything…I kind of like them.” you say blushing lightly. A short chuckle leaves his lips as he looks back to the servants. 

“Your cape is back in the room.” you add on. 

“Hmm..last night wasn't enough for you then little fox?” he asks. 

“N-no! I mean yes– i-I it was enough- i enjoyed myself- i hope you did as well- i'm just suggesting- n-no i'm not. NO i mean ah…” your face burns as you fumble over your words. 

“If you'd like it b-back you're going to have to get it yourself. My maids are terrified of you so they will not return it by mail.” you say pulling your hand away from him.

Amused at how easy it was to fluster you but less so that your hand is gone from his. 

“Fine then..” he huffs and holds out his arm to you. 

“I'll get it myself.” he says, waiting for you to take his arm. 

“Good” you say and hold his arm in yours. You turn your head away, opening your mouth to speak again when you're hit from behind, causing you to almost fall forwards if sandor hadn't caught you. Three men run by you, the last one running into you. Sandor grabs the third by his neck lifting him. 

“Watch where your fucking running boy! You've hit the princess. Watch it or I'll use your entrails as a damn jump rope!” he barks out, resorting back to his usual roughness. The man whimpers in fear once the hound puts him down. 

“M-m-my apologies milady!” he says bowing before running off to his friends. 

“You alright?” he asks you. Going back to you facing you. Your hand rests on your shoulder where he hit you. 

“Yes. Thank you for catching me.” you say. He nods, bringing his hand  up to your face, tucking your hair behind your hair, spotting the marks he left on your neck. He lifts your chin looking at his handy work. 

“Fucking pigs running through the streets nearly ran into me!” you hear jeoffrey's whining voice. Sandor pulls his hand away from you before turning to face the sound of the king. 

“You just stare at the fuckign flags waving in the air you mutt?” Joffrey asks, not really wanting an answer from sandor. 

“Sure.” he says 

“Mm whatever entertains your boring scared ass. Honestly I don't know how you entertain yourself around him.” joffrey says walking passed you both making sandor roll his eyes with a sneer mouthing a mockery of joffrey. Making you press your lips together suppressing a laugh. 

“Come along dog, we have to look in the bakery.” Joffrey says not really having to do so; he's probably just hungry and wants food. 

—-----

You continue the rest of the day and and the next exploring the festival decorations ever going as far out as the the towns square only with two f your hand maidens. Sneaking out of the castle with out a gaurd is no easy feat and often times with in the hour a gaurd who bring you back to the castle. Every guard its been has been Sandor.

you admire the decorations the towns people have done and the hope they share for a good and well festival even spending some time with the local children in the orphanages. Playing games and reading to them. Until you are once again escorted back to the castle.

But now you are on a different mission you walk into the seamstress house.

“Excuse me?” You ask a woman

“Oh! My princess!” She says and bows down.

“Shh no no i-im not supposed to be outside of the castle walls without supervision please get up.” You say begging her. She raises.

“Can you please make something like this. Black gold and yellow?” You ask

“A black dress milady? Was th’re a death in the family?” She says her thick accent almost missing words.

“N-no i want to wear it for the festival would you be able to make it for me?” You ask handing her paper with the sketch and your size.

“ o’course i can.” She says with a smile.

“Thank you i apologize for the short notice um. Here” you say placing a little pouch of coins on the table next to the paper.

“OH why mildly id’a do it f’free” she says you shake your head.

“No no. Your dresses you make are far too beautiful to not be paid for.” You say and smile.

“I’ll do me best, I’ll ‘ave it sent into the ca’sle on the day.” She says you nod smiling at her before hurrying off having heard that the guards were looking for you.

————

Walking down the hall you reach the library on your usual rounds to keep yourself entertained. When you’re stopped by two guards thier armor shiny and unbent letting your know they are new.

“Hello there little lady.” One speaks as the block your route to the library.

“Excuse me ser’s” you say and try to pass but to no avail you cant pass them, more like they wont let you.

“Whats a pretty thing like you doing out alone eh?” The other says hes got a Scottish accent.

“You’re blocking my way. Excuse me i wont ask again?” You say sternly looking up at them.

“Oh so fierce. Eh the little minx bites then does she? Id like you to use those teeth for something else then eh?” He speaks again. A disgusted look falls upon your face.

“She dosnt bite, but i do.” You hear the familiar gruff voice behind you.

The immediately straighten up.

“What are you two bastards drivleing on about.” Hound speaks again.

“N-nothing ser.” He  says. 

“Making s-sure the lady princess is safe on her w-way..” the other speaks.

“Fuck off or i‘ll cut off your cock and balls myself and shove them so far down your throat you’ll be coughing each others semen for a week.” He says shifting in his stance. The men bow to you before they scurries off. 

You turn to him facing him looking up at him. 

“You alright?” He asks. You nod in response. 

“We’re you following me?” You ask a small smile on yor face. 

“No.” He says immedetly before starting to walk off you smile at him skipping up to him. 

“You were weren’t you?” You smile looking at him as you walk. 

“No I wasn’t I was just walking the same way as you were standing.” He says 

“That..that sounds like watching me.. Don’t you think its also familiar that every time i’m out of the castle walls you’re the one to come a retrieve me?” You say. He stops and turns to you. 

“No, and if i was following you.” He says you smile up at him taking a step closer. 

“Why?” You ask, knowing that he was, placing your hands against his armored chest. His hands remain one at his side and one as his sword. 

“Because little fox…” he trails off you nod your head waiting for him to finish. 

“Because this city is not safe half the time.” He says. A toothy grin forms on your face as you realize what he’s trying to say. 

“You’re worried for me arn’t you?” You ask he huffs. 

“You are! Sandor you’re worried. Well you needn’t worry becuase i have a strong personal gaurd that follows me wherever i go.” You say. His dementor changes his soft gaze hardening. 

“You, Sandor. You follow me.” You say poking at his chest. He grunts and begins to walk away from you. 

“Will I see you tonight?” You ask out to him leaning your head to the side. 

“why?” He asks 

“The festival?” You ask 

“I have to be there.” He says 

“Good.” You smile. You watch as he turns to walk off again but turns back to you taking a few steps twords you due to his long strides and leans down to you kissing your cheek before turning and finally walking away.

————

You stand in front of your mirror, your maids interchanging dresses for you to look at as you wear to the festival tonight.

“What do you think of this, my lady?” one asks as she holds out a pink and white dress. 

“It's too…young I would look like a strawberry and cream pastry.” you reply. 

Your handmaidens giggle as one retorts to you. 

“Maybe the lord clegane would find you good enough to eat.” she says as they all giggle your face flushes with heat as your mind backtracks to the night. 

“This my lady?” she asks, holding up another dress. 

“Too green.” you say 

“My lady the dress you ordered came in?” she asks again, holding out a new dress.

You look at it for a moment recognizing the colors; it looks like sandors house banner. The black dress with yellow accents and golden corset display.

You smile about agreeing to it when the doors open and your hand maiden walks in with one of the queens holding out a dress crying in your presence. 

“Her grace the queen has requested you wear this for the night my lady.” she says holding out a red gold and white they would more than likely be restricting as hell. Your smile fades when the black dress is taken away from you and the maids help you undress in the current one. Your eyes glance back at the other dress before you're completely stripped of the dress you hand on and you step into the dress cersi told you to wear. 

The dress slips on perfectly, the collar coming up slightly around your neck, not leaving any room for slouching. As the maiden laces the corsets your breath becomes more and more restricted. 

“F-fuck.” you curse under your breath as she fully tightens the corset. You grab onto the desk side as she tugs pulling your waist in more and more. Until the ties are tight enough. 

“Are you alright my lady?” she asks, concerned. 

“Y-yes i'm fine.” you say your hand resting on your stomach now sucked into the heavens. She nods. She bends down to fix the trail of the dress so you can fully see the results of the garment. A knock at the door can be heard. 

“Enter.” You call out as the door opens. Sandor walks in. Causing the maid who opened the door you hurry a step backwards. You turn to see him in new armored gear. The white and gold armor shining against his dark hair and features. The intricate patterning on spikes and swirls reside on the shoulder pieces and in the middle of his chest the crown symbol. His white and gold cape flowed behind him. But what shocks you the most is his face, he shaved, but more so most likely forced too. And a boy about 16 or so follows close behind him.

A smile forms brightly on your face as your mouth drops open a bit. When you fully turn to face him. His grumpy resting bitch face still present as he sneers a look at the maid from cersi’s hands and she squeaks past him to return to the queen. His eyes hit you seeing you in the dress and his eyes immediately soften. 

“Did you shave?!!.” you ask excitedly. He doesn't answer his eyes just wander your garments growing colder again

“Ive been poked and prodded and shaved down i have uncomfortable armor and they gave me a fucking squire…im not in the mood for jesting. If anything all i want is to cut the fucker who did this to me in half and feed his shit to jeoffry for ordering it.” he says slowly. 

You walk to him only now noticing how heavy the dress is. 

You stand in front of him looking up at his face then down to his squire. 

“And you are?” you ask if the boy seems stunned to be in your chambers more than anything. 

“J-joss stillwood milady.” he bows. 

“Pleasure to meet you. Has my lord husband treated you well?” you ask. 

“Yes milady. Of course.” he says, actually telling the truth. You look back at sandor. 

“You look very handsome sandor.” you say. 

“Shut the fuck up.” he grumbles his heart burting at the compliment. You give him a small smile.  “Cersi has asked that i escort you into the banquet hall as a guard, as lord ...and as a husband” he says your eyes widen ever so slightly.

“Well you certainly look the part then.” you say he sighs and holds out his arm. For you you take it and exit the chambers walking to the banquet all seeing other guests walking the same way.

————

Holding onto sandors arms you can hear the faint gossip from others as you walk towards the doors. You feel the looks as people stare. 

“y/n.” you hear sandor speak. You look up at him seeing he’s already looking at you. 

“Ignore them. That's what I do.” he says, having noticed your discomfort. You nod. 

 You reach the doors and are announced. 

“I present princess y/n of house clegane and her lord husband, kingsguard, Sandor “the Hound” Clegane.” Everyone stops what they are doing and bows to you. As you enter. You see cersi, joffrey, tommen and sansa sitting at the head banquet table waiting for you. 

You both walk down the aisle that will soon become a dance floor to the table. You lift your skirt ever so slightly to climb the few stairs to your seat. Sandor pulls out the chair for you and you take a seat. He stands behind you slightly to your side. 

“Welcome my dear, i'm so glad the dress made it to you in one piece you look ravishing, Doesn't she look beautiful clegane?” cersi says turning to sandor to ask. 

“Yes, your grace.” he answers coldly. She picks up her knife and cups tapping the metal utensil against it. Quieting everyone. 

“It is with great pleasure that I have invited you all here tonight. We have music, fine wine, food, dancing here and in the courtyard. This festival brings us all together. Please enjoy yourselves." She says everyone cheers before the music begins. She sits back down and food is placed on the table. 

Everyone begins to eat but you sit and poke at the food. Cersi takes notice of this and leans to you. 

“Are you well my dear?” she ask

“Yes, your grace.” you answer. 

“I hope as well, my maidens told me of you and sandors consummation, I do hope those markings amount to your body healing well.” she says. 

“...y-yes your grace i haven't needed a maester.” you say she nods. And leans back to her seat you looks up at sandor you stands like a brick wall watching and scanning the room. You watch as everyone enjoys the party and dances and eats. You manage to eat a small amount before not wanting anymore, just a few raspberries and strawberries. You've sat at the table half board and half content for an hour or so before Sansa gets up and walks to you.

“y/n..dance with me?” she asks, standing next to you.

“Oh i don't think..” you say 

“Come on!” she says holding out her hand you sigh and nod standing up and taking it. Sandor follows close after you both to watch as a guard. She leads you out through the open doors to the court yard where more music plays and others are eating and dancing. 

A new song begins just in time as you both take your place. You admire Sansa's dress. A flowy blue dress no doubt Joffrey has chosen for the golden landed bodice shines against the outside lighting. The dance begins and you hold up your hand turning along with sansa. 

“I can't breathe in this dress.” you say to her. 

“Neither can i” she says, giving a small laugh. 

“My hand maids tied it so tight I can feel my heart beating in my throat.” she continues. You laugh and nod. Turning to the side to switch partners as part of the dance, it's a young man around your age as he smiles at you, surely admiring you. 

“You smell good my lady if I may interject.” he says. 

“Thank you my lord.” you answer. 

“Willow berry and prose is such a fine scent of a beautiful princess.” he says linking your arms with his as part of the dance requires. 

“Y-yes.” you say.

“I'm lord of the hotel house , segal.” he says. 

“A pleasure.” you say before returning to sansa. 

“Who?” she asks. You shrug giving her a pained expression. 

“Sandor doesn't seem to have taken a liking.” she says gesturing over to where he stands by the doors. You see him looking at you, his gaze hardened at the sight of the man who was making conversation with you. You also watch as joss nods his head enjoying the music in his place next to sandor.

“Oh no..”you say Sansa laughs as the dance shifts once more bringing you back to the lord. 

“Pleasurable once more.” he says. 

“The dance, yes of course.” you say. He chuckles, shaking his head. 

“No my princess, you are.” he says 

“I appreciate your kind word my lord for I am promised to another, sealed in fact.” you say looking over at the 6’7 monster of a guard and husband standing glaring. 

“Ah..well a dance will not hurt then.” he says. Before you can answer the dance ends and you curtsy as he bows to you. 

“May I have the next one?” he asks

“I really dont think-” you begin glancing at Sansa who has already been caught up by joffrey. 

“Please my lady, dance. one.” he says holding out his hand you nod taking it. The music begins again to play a very upbeat song known for lots of movement and dancing which you don't know how you will complete in the dress. He pulls you into him and begins to lead the upbeat dance. 

Not being able to last the entire song you break away from him gathering your dress and walking off trying to catch your breath. 

“My lady?! Are you alright?” he asks, you hold out a hand to tell him to go away but too out of breath to speak, but before he can place a hand on you he is grabbed by sandor. 

“Fuck off.” he speaks gruffly. 

“Excuse me sir but I am a-...” he trails off seeing Sandor fully and runs off. 

“Are you alright little fox?” he asks you to look at you. You place your hand on your stomach as you walk farther away from the music and dancing. You walk out onto the side view balcony hearing the faint music. Still struggling to breath your lack of air causes your vision to blur black spotting in your vision. The dress becomes heavier by the second causing you to lose your footing and hit the side barrier, you gasp about to fall off the side when you're caught by sandor he pulls you into him. 

Your knees give out as he holds you. He kneels to the ground. His hand is placed on your waist feeling the hard boning of the corset and hearing your labored breathing.

“Shall i call the maester ser?!” Joss asks worriedly.

“No…For fucks sake” sandor curses before he pulls out his dagger and cuts the corset down the middle allowing for a gush of air to return to your lungs. You grab onto him as you can finally breathe again. You blink as your vision clears. The color also comes back to your face as he places his hand on your cheek. You give him a weakened smile placing your hand over his. His eyes scanned to make sure that that was all that was causing your discomfort. 

“You're alright now little fox.” he says, kissing your forehead. Helping you stand before lifting you into his arms he carries you away from the party back to your chambers.

READ CHAPTER 7 HERE

#sandor clegane x reader #Sandor clegane #got x princess reader #sandor x reader #sandor the hound clegane #game of thrones x reader

[dragon-kazansky]

Bridgerton shade of blue

Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader

Benedict bumps into you, quite literally, at a ball while trying to escape his mother's attempts to find him a partner. You decide to humour him with a dance, not realising just how entwined you would become with him. It seems the universe will find every excuse to push you and Benedict together, no matter how much you fight it.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Season one

Chapter Six - Splendid

♡♡♡

"Eloise Bridgerton."

Benedict calls his sister when he finds her smoking on the swing set in their garden. He sounded stern, as if scolding her.

Eloise groans softly as she turns on the swing. "Go on, then." She lifts the cigarette to her lips. "Chastise me."

"Spare one for me?" He asks.

Eloise is surprised by his question. He comes and sits on the other swing beside her. She holds a cigarette out to him, and he takes it, putting it between his lips and lighting it.

"Suppose I desire something different." Eloise says.

"How do you mean?"

"Just different. I watch Daphne prepare for these balls with all of those dresses and the many suitors, and I am exhausted. Suppose I want a different life, Benedict. That I truly believe I am quite capable of something more, even when I'm not allowed to have anything else."

"Then I would say... that you're not the only one." He looks at her. They smile at each other.

♡♡♡

With the next edition of Whistledown comes fascinating gossip. You find yourself, for once, clutching the paper with the need to read more.

It has become apparent that Lord Berbrooke has a child out of wedlock, and not only that, with a maid he had sent away before the child was even born. He pays nothing for the child, it seems.

Your mother had been gossiping about with the other ladies she had over for afternoon tea. In turn, their maids had gone off to gossip further.

Word spread like wildfire.

The next day, Lord Berbrooke had left town suddenly.

You made it a point to go visit Daphne. You were taken up to the drawing room where she awaited you, a smile on her face as you came in.

"It's nice of you to visit."

You take a seat with her. "I wanted to see how you were."

"I have expected you come see my brother," she admits.

"Benedict? As much as he has become my friend, I felt the need to come see you. Are you alright?"

"I feel like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders." She smiles softly. "I am glad he is gone."

"As am I. Wretched man, he was."

You both giggle softly.

"So, the duke? He is still on your favour?" You ask.

Daphne goes silent for a moment, and then her face twitches. A realisation. The realisation she must still pretend.

"Ah, yes." She smiles.

You smile in return and take her hand. "You make a most handsome couple."

"Thank you." Her voice wavers.

You do not bring up Hastings or Berbrooke again as you have tea with Daphne. The conversation becomes pleasant. Daphne finds herself talking to you about anything that comes to mind. Not once has any of her siblings sat down and listened to her like this.

It felt nice. Really nice.

An hour passes, and you find the teapot has been emptied twice in that time. There are no more biscuits to share either. You rise from the soft sofa and gather you purse.

"Thank you for letting me visit."

"Oh, nonsense. You are always welcome." Daphne smiles.

"I shall visit again then."

Daphne looks pleased by your words.

"Benedict will be so disappointed you came by and didn't stop to see him."

You chuckle. "Let him suffer. It may humble him."

Daphne chuckles and sees you out.

♡♡♡

The next ball is as dazzling as the others. You swear with each one, Daphne gets more and more beautiful. She enters with the Duke. Of course, everyone sees.

You entered with your mother, no one paying you any mind what so ever. Not that you minded any more. You had come to terms that no one would visit you.

As Simon and Daphne dance, you decide to take a walk. You have no idea what it is they discuss when alone together.

You keep your eyes peeled for any familiar faces. Yet, no one else is present in this current room.

Meanwhile, Daphne parts from Simon and is approached by another gentleman. Her wish to find a husband and have a family may very well come true.

As you enter the next room, you find Anthony in there talking with some others. His gaze lands on you, and he excuses himself from the current conversation. He approaches you.

You smile and bow your head. "Lord Bridgerton."

"Anthony, please. You call my brothers by their name."

You smile. "Anthony."

"Benedict isn't here, I'm afraid. He has elected to sit this one out. May I have the honour?" He holds out his hand.

You take a moment to take in his request. Anthony was head of his family. A viscount. Dancing with him would surely bring you attention.

You place your hand in his. "You may."

Anthony takes you back into the other room and leads you to the dance floor. He holds you as a gentleman should while dancing with a lady. You both move with the music.

Anthony look very firm as he dances with you.

"I must say, this is an honour."

"Is it?" He asks.

"I never see you dance."

"No. I suppose not. I am not beyond dancing with friends." He says kindly.

"Then I am even more so honoured to be considered such."

You both continue dancing until the music ends. You curtsy, he bows. Anthony takes your hand and leads you back to the side of the room. With swift ease, he marks his name down on your dance card.

"I shall see to it you are never left without a dance partner, my lady," he says with a bow.

You smile.

As Anthony returns to the party, you find yourself now being looked at by others. There are gentlemen looking your way.

Could it be true that Daphne is not the only one who can shine?

Soon, you are dancing again, and a few more names are scribbled across your dance card.

You think, perhaps, Daphne Bridgerton is your good luck charm.

It makes you giddy.

Safe to say, your night was splendid indeed.

♡♡♡

@callmemana - @lilscast - @imgondeletedis - @benedictbridgertonss - @clownsdiehard - @wxnterwidow333

@sillynilly27 - @autumn-slaves - @ben-has-arrived - @ajdelilah - @aadu2173

@booknerdlife - @tamlinrose - @sarahskywalker-amidala - @cheryyluv - @louschan - @lou-la-lou - @cultish-corner

@hopshusushi - @katherinejess - @nannabug - @afunkyfreshblog - @f0x33 - @dd122004dd -

@jupitervenusearthmars - @orchiidflwer - @bespinnn - @captainlunaxmen - @winchestersimpalababy -

#Bridgerton shade of blue #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #female reader #dragon writes

[aithorin]

oh, baby, I am a wreck when I'm without you - Lady Dimitrescu x Reader - Part 1 (Eventual 18+)

Synopsis: As Lady Dimitrescu’s loyal personal maid, you have watched for years as others have come and gone from your Mistress’ bed, desperately wishing you could take their place. Yet despite your deep love for Lady Dimitrescu, she has never once looked at you that way. Years of repressed pain reach their breaking point when you accidentally walk in on one of your mistress’ trysts, for it is then that you finally accept that she will never truly see you. You confront her in hopes of stepping down as her personal maid but soon discover that Lady Dimitrescu won’t so easily let you go.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49435549/chapters/124759192

A/N: Part 1 of 3. Part 2 and Part 3 are here.

________

She is always particularly stunning at times like these, in the moments before bed when it is just the two of you. Bathed in the dim light of a dying fire, the warm tones of the flames dance across her pale skin, rendering her with an ethereal delicacy akin to the airy paint strokes of Degas himself. Alone in her room and away from prying eyes, she lowers the walls she keeps built so high, softening her features in a way very few get to see. Here, she is simply Alcina, not Lady Dimitrescu, feared matriarch of House Dimitrescu, and you’ve never found her more beautiful.

Slipping out the final pin binding her meticulous updo together, the last of Lady Dimitrescu’s soft curls cascade down to join the other locks resting freely just below her shoulders. Though no longer forced into place, the wisps of hair still frame her face well, seeming to intuitively adhere to the inherent elegance that surrounds her. It’s a sight you’ll never tire of seeing. Hands reaching out, you fluff her hair, fingertips lingering in an attempt to prolong your time together. They ghost along the nape of her neck, pushing the bounds of propriety, and you savor every stolen touch, no matter how brief they may be. It is, after all, the closest you’ll ever be to her, and well, beggars can’t be choosers. 

Swallowing around the yearning that threatens to consume you, the thought that you’d give anything to remain frozen like this briefly crosses your mind. You don’t want the night to end. Here, in the safety of these walls, you’re able to pretend that she’s yours. You brush her hair, not as a servant carrying out the command of her master, but as a lover displaying her affection. You don’t want to let go, for when you do, the illusion will shatter and take any hope of true happiness with it. 

The rules of decorum call for otherwise, however. And so, with great effort, you pull your hands back to your side and step down from your place behind her, head bowing slightly as you await further orders. Seated at her vanity, Lady Dimitrescu barely spares you a second glance as her hands reach up to fill your place. “That will be all. You’re dismissed.” She says.

Straight to the point, just like always. You should have been used to it by now, the coldness with which she spoke to you. And maybe you would have been, if you didn’t know that she was capable of warmth. But you’d seen the way she doted on the maidens that caught her eye, how she spoiled them. Those lucky few were blessed with the privilege of bathing in the inferno of her passion while you barely managed to grasp onto the dying embers. And the scraps that you could get, well, they did little to fill the ever-growing hole in your heart that her indifference fostered. Despite the unceasing pain it brought though, you were certain you’d never stop chasing her affection. 

But you are a servant first and a pining fool second, so nodding stiffly, you turn and murmur, “Yes, Mistress.” 

With a quick curtsy that you’re sure she doesn’t even see, you spin on your heel and begin to make your way towards the door. The facade drops, having no reason left to hide. Unbidden tears spring in your eyes as the hurt that squeezes your fragile, battered heart begins to crawl up your throat, threatening to choke you with its immensity. The slow, steady pace of your steps gradually increase, becoming erratic as emotion threatens to overwhelm you. By the time you reach the doors, you’re all but running, desperate to escape the suffocating weight of the room. 

Your hands hurriedly reach out to grasp the handles, and you yank the doors open only to stop short as you come face to face with another servant. Her own hand hangs in the hair, poised to knock. Momentary surprise flashes across her face, her eyes widening as her lips round into a perfect little o, but she quickly regains her composure. She straightens, attempting to appear confident; however, her clasped, fidgeting hands betray her.

Hesitantly, she raises her eyes to meet yours. She says, “Lady Dimitrescu asked to see me.” 

It comes out like a question rather than a statement, but her words nevertheless hit you like a smack to the face. You thought you recognized her, and this is why. She’s the lady’s newest flavor of the month. Day in and day out, they waltz in, having a brief but passionate tryst with the lady. They never last long, barely half a month, and the maidens are often never seen again. Yet the disappearances do nothing to diminish your longing to be chosen. You never are though. In the three years you’ve been at the castle, Lady Dimitrescu has never once looked in your direction, and you doubt she ever will. 

As you stand there, staring at the girl who withers beneath your prolonged silence, jealousy rears its ugly head. It crackles down your spine, snarling like a caged beast and urges you to devour the girl before you. Yet it quickly vanishes as rational thought returns, leaving nothing but bleak melancholy in its place. It wasn’t her fault that you were so inadequate. It wasn’t her fault that she’d piqued the lady’s interest, and you hadn’t. She simply suited your mistress’ taste, and you…did not. It was time you accepted that, no matter how much it hurt. 

Deflated, you step aside while gesturing for her to come in, and she cautiously does so. She tiptoes past you, obviously still intimidated. You are soon forgotten though. Upon leaving your immediate vicinity, her nerves seem to melt away, for she practically skips over to Lady Dimitrescu. 

Remaining rooted to your spot, dread pools in your stomach. You should leave. You need to leave. After all, there is only so much you can take in a single evening. The thought of being forced to bear their affectionate interactions makes you sick. 

It takes you a second too long to muster up the courage. The maiden’s voice floats into the air, all lilting tones and cherubic innocence. “You called for me, my lady?”

The change in Lady Dimitrescu is instantaneous. Though you cannot see her, you can hear her: the way her clothes rustle as she stands, the scrape of the chair against the floor, the delight in her voice as she exclaims, “Imogen dear! You’re just in time.” You imagine that the dazzling smile you’d only ever seen directed towards others sits plastered on her face as she stretches out her arms and leans down to embrace her newest lover. The thought of it being true torments you. 

The drastic shift pierces you like a dagger to the heart. Stiffening, you keep yourself from turning around, unwilling to subject yourself to the misery of seeing your Mistress happy with someone who isn’t you, and quickly hurry out of the room. This time, the tears do fall as you all but sprint back to your chambers, where you remain for the rest of the night agonizing over why it was never you.

Unbeknownst to you though, Lady Dimitrescu’s eyes stray to your retreating form as she holds her visitor, intense longing all of her own lingering in their depths.

#lady dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu #resident evil x reader #resident evil #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #re8 #re8 village #re8 lady dimitrescu #re8 alcina #re village #lady dimitrescu x y/n #x reader #reader #reader insert #reader is female #castle dimitrescu #eventual smut #angst #angst with a happy ending #heavy angst #angst and feels #heartache #pining #mutual pining #hurt comfort #hurt/comfort

[willalove75]

Hi! Love your fics!💕💕 can I request a lady d and r, where alcina eats r out for the first time and r is all squirming and pulling the sheets and she loves it? Thank you id also like you to add your own stuff💖💖

Thank you so much!!💕 And thanks so much for this awesome request! Hehehe

Warnings: A little fluff and lots of smut, mommy kink, pinch of size kink, dash of degradation kink and more fluff.

A/n: Did I get carried away with this one? Me? Never. (Yes. Yes I did and I have no regrets).

18+ only, minors DNI

Life in Castle Dimitrescu wasn't perfect by any means, but compared to the village, it was safe. As safe as living with four bloodthirsty vampires can be, that it. Besides you were given work, were paid well, you had three meals a day and a roof over your head. What more could you ask for?

When you first arrived at the castle you were sent to work in the laundry room, after about a year you were promoted to working in the kitchen. After a year or so of that your duties were split between cleaning and serving meals. Somehow, you must have caught the Countess's attention because when her handmaid disappeared you were one of the candidates selected to fill the position. For one reason or another the other maids were passed over and you were hired for the job.

Although you were intimidated by the Countess at first, slowly but surely you began to feel more comfortable around her, and her around you. As the weeks went by she began to let her walls down when she was with you, something you were pretty sure she's never done for any maid before.

Her afternoon tea would often bleed into dinnertime, the two of you losing track of time while you spoke. Her evening glass of wine turned into two, then three, then the bottle as you talked late into the night. Even into the early hours of the morning on more than one occasion.

Tonight was just another average night. Your task as usual, bringing the Lady her evening wine. After you knocked on the door, you heard a "Who is it?" on the other side. You could tell right away that something was off from the sound of her voice.

"It's me, my Lady."

"Come in."

As you walk into her room you close the door. Lady Dimitrescu was standing with her back to you, looking out the window. A cigarette was perched between her two fingers.

"Just leave it on the table. You're dismissed."

It felt wrong leaving her like this, you could tell right away that she was upset.

"Are you alright my Lady?"

"I said you're dismissed."

"I am aware that I may be overstepping-"

"Then don't."

"My Lady, please, what can I do?"

Lady Dimitrescu stands there in silence, taking drags from her cigarette. After a few long minutes she looks at you out of the corner of her eye.

"You aren't going to leave, are you?"

"Will all due respect, I am not my Lady."

She sighs heavily.

"Alcina."

"I'm sorry?"

"Alcina, my given name. There's no need to be formal when it's just the two of us. Mother Miranda knows we are past the point of formalities." She said walking past you and sits at her vanity.

"It's a beautiful name, fitting for a beautiful woman."

Alcina stares at you through the mirror, you can see the mascara underneath her lashes, how her golden eyes have a hint of red to them from her crying. She still manages to give you a small smile.

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Unfortunately I don't believe there is."

Her hands fiddle with the clasp of her necklace. You watch as she struggles to get it undone, growing more frustrated every second.

"Please, my Lady, allow me."

Standing onto the stepstool behind her, you take her hands off of the clasp. Alcina stares at you bewildered, never has a maid been so bold before. A second later the clasp is undone and you remove the necklace from her neck. Your eyes meet hers in the mirror and you can't decipher the look she's giving you.

"You don't fear me, do you?"

"No, not at all my-" Alcina gives you a look. "Alcina. I do not."

Stepping down, you walk over to the wardrobe and place the necklace on it.

"Why not? I am a monster am I not?"

"Do not say that." You snap. Alcina's posture stiffens and she glares at you. You can feel her eyes burning into the back of your head and you let out an exhale. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you like that. I just- I can't stand hearing people refer to you and the girls as monsters, no less hearing you refer to yourself as such."

Turning towards Alcina, you notice the glare in her eyes fade into something softer.

"You really don't think I am dangerous?"

"No, I know what you're capable of and I know you can certainly be dangerous. But everyone can be dangerous. I've seen monsters, real monsters. None of which are you and your daughters."

"You are so very curious."

"The same can be said about yourself." You say, trying to hold back a smile.

"Cheeky." Alcina says with a smirk. She finishes removing her makeup and lights another cigarette as she makes her way over to the chaise lounge in her room. "Will you please bring me my wine?"

"Of course."

You cross the room and open up the bottle of wine, filling Alcina's glass.

"There you are." You say, handing it to her.

"Come, sit." She says, moving her legs over to open up a spot on the edge of the seat. Alcina takes a sip of wine and looks down at you. "Why don't you see us at monsters?"

"Because you're not." She tilts her head and you continue. "I know what goes on in these castle walls, I am not ignorant to that. But I also know that, for the most part, the reason why you do what you do is to survive. Isn't that what we're all trying to do? Just survive? The maids and the people in the village refuse to acknowledge your humanity, but I see it clear as day."

"I am not human."

"Yes, but that does not mean that you've lost your humanity. You were a human once. If you did, you wouldn't care to tell me about your days as a jazz singer, your eyes wouldn't light up when you spoke of what it was like being on stage singing for people. A gentle smile wouldn't cross your face when you spoke of your daughters and their antics. You wouldn't laugh at my silly jokes if you lost all of your humanity. I see you, Alcina. I see you."

Never has Alcina been so in awe of someone, her handmaiden no less. Never has someone - since she's been mutated - see her for who she is. She leans forward and tucks a strand of hair behind you ear, gazing into your eyes.

The breath in your lungs stalls and you lose yourself in her beautiful gold eyes. She truly is breathtaking. You meant every word you said and you can tell she knew you meant it.

Her long finger traces down your jaw until it stops to rest underneath your chin. On command your lips part and your eyes flick down from hers, to her lips and back up. She's so close you can feel her warm breath on your skin. You can smell the cigarettes and wine on her breath, accompanied by the faint hint of the perfume left on her from the day. It's intoxicating. She's intoxicating.

Alcina captures your lips with hers and you gladly welcome them. Her tongue caresses you and you part your lips more, allowing her entrance into your mouth. The moment her tongue touches yours a moan erupts from the back of your throat into her mouth. She kisses you harder in response and your fingers tangle themselves into her hair.

Before your brain can register what's happening, Alcina wraps her free arm around your waist and lifts you up. Your legs wrap around her and she leans to the side, placing her wine glass down and putting her cigarette out straight onto the side table. To hell with the ashtray, and that table, I guess.

She carries you across the room to her bed and crawls onto it, never once breaking the kiss until she lays you down and hovers above you. Her soft lips leave passionate kisses down your jaw to your neck. Pausing in the crook of your neck, she deeply inhales and exhales with a moan before sucking on your pulse point. A moan escapes from your lips and you arch your back in response. Alcina's hand slides up the front of you, her palm coming to rest on your chest as you arch into it. Her hand is so big it practically covers your whole chest.

Alcina kisses back up your neck and pulls you in for another deep, passionate kiss. Her leg slides between yours and you roll your hips into her with a grunt. She practically purrs when she feels you grind into her.

"You are so beautiful, draga mea." She whispers between kisses. "No one has ever looked at me the way you do."

A passionate fog clouds your mind, you're completely lost in the moment and don't even register your next words until they hang in the air between the two of you.

"I love you."

When your brain finally processes what you said you freeze. The gold in Alcina's eyes shines brighter than you've ever seen before. Her pupils blow and practically turn her eyes black.

"Do you want me to stop?" She says.

"No."

As soon as the words leave your lips Alcina grabs your uniform and tears it down the middle. As effortlessly as one would tear a piece of paper. Her nails extend just enough to cut through your bra and underwear and she throws the scraps of cloth away.

She kisses you again, hard, and her hand travels down your body and one finger slides up your dripping slit. You whine into her and she breaks the kiss.

"So wet for me already." She hums. "I have to taste you."

Her hands grab the back of your thighs and she pushes them apart, positioning herself between them. She licks, sucks, and bites at the inside of your thighs for a few moments and you start to wiggle in her grasp. Your movements only make her tighten her grip and suck and bite down harder.

Just when you think you're about to lose your mind, Alcina drags her large tongue up your slit in one slow experimental lick. Her eyes flutter shut and she hums into you, the reverberation sending chills up your spine.

"So delicious." She says before diving back in.

She laps at your dripping cunt a few times before sucking and pulling at your clit.

"Oh fuck!" You cry as you grasp tightly onto the bedsheets.

Her eyes flick up and meet yours, there's almost no gold left. All of it being swallowed by her blown pupils. There's a hungry look in her eyes. A look you've never seen before and it only makes you crave her more.

Alcina pays close attention to every one of your movements. Every time you squirm, every time you moan, whimper, and cry that spills from your lips. She listens for every breath that hitches in your chest. Adjusting the rhythm and pattern of her tongue, diving between your folds and circling your clit so you can feel the most pleasure at all times.

Each lick, suck, each time she pulls at your clit or hums into you drives you further and further into oblivion. Her hands slid up to grasp onto your hips at some point to keep you steady. You're sure you would have squirmed your way off the bed and onto the floor if she wasn't keeping you in place.

"Alcina... please..." You whine.

"Mmm that name sounds so beautiful falling from those lips." She hums.

She darts her tongue in and out of your soaked core before sliding it into you.

"Oh my god! Oh fuck!"

One of her hands releases your hips and she slides it under your butt, lifting your ass off of the mattress. You have no idea why she did that until you felt her tongue reach deep inside of you, prodding at a spot that made you see stars.

As your eyes roll back into your head you let out the most pornographic moan you've ever heard. You don't see it but the hunger in Alcina's eyes grows. She curls her long tongue deep inside you making you cry out.

You're pulling at her bedsheets so hard you think they might rip, but nothing matters right now. She's sending you straight into outer space and is showing no signs of slowing down.

Alcina rolls her tongue inside of you, hitting every sensitive spot that makes you see stars. You can feel your walls beginning to clench around her tongue and right as she's about to take you to the edge, she pulls out.

The most pathetic and desperate whine leaves your mouth and Alcina presses wet kisses into your thighs.

"What's the matter sweet thing?" She teases.

You look up at her and see a cocky smile spread across her face. She has you absolutely wrapped around her finger and you both know it.

Unable to form words, you let out another whine as a shudder runs through your body.

"What is it? Was there something you wanted?"

She continues to leave slow, tantalizing kisses on the inside of your thighs and tears begin to form in the corners of your eyes.

"Mhm." You whine.

"What? Use your words sweet girl. Tell me, tell mommy what you want."

A moan escapes your lips at the word "mommy." Never did you think that would be such a turn-on but that word alone almost made you cum.

"Please."

"Please what?" She says as she adjusts to hover over you. Her lips ghost yours and she drags her nails up the inside of your thigh. "What is it? Tell mommy."

"Mommy please." You whimper as your legs begin to shake.

"Do you want mommy to make you cum? Is that what you want baby?" She digs her nails a little harder into you and you nod your head.

"Use your words, mommy wants to hear that pretty little voice. To see those pretty lips of yours beg." She drags the tip of her finger up your slit and just barely grazes your clit. You cry out in desperation and throw your head back. Alcina takes the opportunity to slowly kiss your exposed neck. With her lips on your throat she can feel the vibration of your voice.

"Please mommy, please. Make me cum, please!"

She hums into your skin and brushes her lips against yours.

"Good girl." She says against your lips. "You're such a good little slut for mommy aren't you?"

You feel your heart stutter in your chest and she hums in delight.

Alcina drags her finger up your folds once more and circles around your clit before sliding deep into you. Your walls flutter around her, stretching to accommodate her size and your eyes disappear into the back of your head.

She starts off slow, pulling her finger almost all the way out and then sliding it back in until she's knuckle deep inside of you. Gradually she picks up the pace pulling out less and thrusting back in harder. She curls her finger into you and your back arches off of the bed as you cry out.

"Oh fuck yes!"

"Does that feel good baby?" She coos.

"Yes, fuck yes."

"Do you think you can handle more? Can you fit another one of mommy's big fingers inside your tight little cunt?"

"Yes, please mommy, more, I need more!"

"Such a good girl." She whispers into your ear, sending chills down your spine.

She pulls her finger out and immediately slides two fingers back in. The stretch you feel is painful but oh so pleasurable as you cry out for her.

Alcina lets out a low groan when she feels your walls stretch to fit her. So wet, so tight. She wants to utterly destroy you but she's holding herself back.

Once she's sure you've adjusted to the size of her fingers she begins to pump them in and out of you. Each moan that escapes your lips when she pulls out, each whine you cry when she thrusts back in is calling to every primal instinct Alcina has inside of her. She curls her fingers inside of you and you hear a deep, wet noise. Alcina practically purrs at the noise and lowers herself back down between your legs and takes your throbbing clit between her lips and sucks, hard.

You let out a scream so loud, so uncontrolled someone may think you're actually dying. You're convinced she's sucking your soul out of you.

Alcina sends you higher and higher, every time she brings you to the edge she lowers you back down and you cry out in protest. Over and over again she edges you, driving you absolutely insane.

"Please, Alcina please!"

"Use your words, pet. Tell me what you want." She says before pulling at your clit again.

"Make me cum! Fuck me! Please oh god please!"

She curls her fingers into you harder and faster as she sucks on your clit. You grab at the sheets and pull as she fucks you harder and harder. You body begins to shake and your walls clench down around her fingers. Right before you cum Alcina pulls her fingers out and shoves her tongue deep inside of you, sending white hot light through you.

You body convulses under her touch as your orgasm violently rips through you. Screaming out her name with a now hoarse voice.

Alcina draws out your orgasm for longer than you thought was physically possible before expertly guiding you back down. The ride down was almost as pleasurable as the climb was. Something you've never experienced before.

Aftershocks course through your body and your legs twitch each time Alcina places a kiss on them. She slowly kisses up your body, sucking on each of your nipples, nipping at your collarbones and leaving wet, hot kisses up your neck and jaw until she finally reaches your lips.

She kisses you with a soft passion, caressing you each time an aftershock makes your body twitch.

"So beautiful. So delicious. So perfect." She whispers between kisses.

She breaks the kiss and sits up between your legs admiring her work. Proud of just how undone she was able to make you. A dark chuckle rumbles in her chest and you look up at her.

"Well, it seems a new set of sheets is in order." She says.

Looking to the side, you realize the sheets, still in your grasp, have holes torn in them. You let them go and flex your hands since they became stiff from grabbing the sheets so hard.

"Oh god, I'm sorry." You say with a giggle.

"Don't be." She says as she lays next to you and pulls you into her. "I'm rather impressed that I was able to ravish you so well you tore holes into my bedsheets."

"You didn't just ravish me," you say and Alcina gives you a look. "you took my fucking soul."

For the first time, Alcina lets out a laugh. A true, hearty laugh. She throws her head back and you feel her chest bounce against you.

"Such a filthy mouth for such a sweet little thing." She says before placing a chaste kiss on your lips.

You smile up at her and your eyelids begin to feel heavy.

"I should go back," you sleepily say. "it's probably past curfew and-" a yawn cuts you off.

"Nonsense, you will stay here tonight."

"Are you sure?" You say as you fight to keep your eyes open.

"Yes draga mea, I am." Alcina says and places a kiss on your forehead.

"I'm sorry I said 'I love you' before." You say, losing the battle against your eyelids.

"Don't be. It was the truth wasn't it?"

"Mhm." You nod your head. "You're not mad?"

"No draga, not in the slightest."

"Oh, good."

Your last words are barely a whisper before sleep takes over. Alcina pulls the duvet over the two of you and you cuddle into her. A warm smile pulls across her face and she buries her nose into your hair, taking a deep breath in.

"I'll let you in on a little secret, draga." She whispers, knowing you're asleep. "I love you too."

#willalove75 #wlw fanfic #lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #resident evil alcina #re8 alcina #alcina x reader #lady dimitrescuxreader #lady dimitrescu fanfic #re8 lady dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x reader #lady alcina #re8 fanfiction #re8 village #re8

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

can we have some arranged or batmum bruce grovelling? or just really loving up on reader

"Anna?"

"Yes, Mr. Wayne?" The maid stopped her cleaning, and looked up at him, confused.

"Have you seen my Wife anywhere?" You weren't in your studio. Or the stable- the two places you were most likely to be. The only two places you tended to be.

"No, Mr. Wayne," she answered. "The Lady- Mrs. Wayne isn't- I mean I haven't seen her all day."

"Hn." Bruce felt a headache behind his right eye starting.

He'd not seen you since the night on the yacht. Not in more than passing. And- he missed you. He'd gotten used to having you around. Just. Around. Rattling around distantly in the house.

It worried him.

It wasn't like the pain of missing his parents. Nothing that dire. It just- it felt like something was missing. Like leaving the house without his watch and not noticing until he pulled back his sleeve to check the time. But... more.

"Thank you, Anna," Bruce said.

"Maybe Alfred would know-"

"Perhaps," he said, smiling just a little. Alfred didn't know. Alfred was the first person he'd asked. But- the man had near superhuman perception according to the staff and he'd hate to disappoint them.

He left her to her cleaning and headed outside. Opal was still in her stall. Clean and brushed until she gleamed. Pampered and spoiled. It made Bruce smile a little when she huffed in irritation at it not being you come to take her for a ride. "Sorry," he said. "I don't know where she is today."

Opal knickered and stomped. Clearly less than pleased as Bruce stroked her neck in apology. "It's my fault I'm afraid," he sighed. "It seems like all my instincts are the wrong ones when it comes to Y/N."

This time the soft whinny was a little more sympathetic.

"It's all right. At least I got one thing right, I guess. She seems to like you."

The head toss was, he supposed, Opal for 'of course she does'.

Bruce smiled a little and stroked her again, "Any tips for me? Huh? what's she tell you when I'm not around?"

"Not much, really."

Your voice makes him jump and he turns. Swallowing hard. He wanted to ask you how long you'd been there. "Think she's spying for me?" he hummed.

"No. I guess- I guess I just got so used to not speaking unless I was spoken to I'm fine not talking."

He nodded and stepped closer to you. You're dressed for a ride. A long wool coat was thrown over your shoulder. He knew he should apologize. It seemed like he could never STOP doing things he should apologize for. But he can't find the words.

How do you apologize for your feelings? How do you apologize for taking away someone's whole life?

All he could do was close the distance between you. Trying not to scare you. He could see the tension in your body. Not sure what was about to happen. Frozen like a deer in headlights. Trying to telegraph his every movement. To give you time to move or protest.

"Y/N," he said softly, "kiss me?"

"No one is watching."

"Not for them," he murmured as he pulled you closer. "For me, please?"

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne #ask answered #minors dni #reader insert #arranged!verse2.0

[flowerandblood]

The sweetest fruit (11)

[ Aemond • Targaryen x Valyrian! • female ]

[ warnings: depression, suicide attempt, miscarriage, fluff ]

[description: (Anon Request) Aemond is to meet his future wife from Essos, in whose veins runs the blood of Old Valyria. They’ve been engaged since they were kids, but he’s in no hurry to get married and he’s not happy about her arrival. His future wife, however, turns out to be someone completely different than he expected. Smut, angst and a lot of sexual tension.]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

_____

By the time they returned to King's Landing, Lady Vhassar's belly was slightly rounded. The king and queen received the news of their future offspring with great joy and organized a feast on this occasion.

Since it turned out that she is carrying his child in her womb, her husband has changed beyond recognition. Though he was still cold and distant to others, he was tender and gentle with her. Even in bed, during their successive intense raptures, he was very attentive and made sure that he didn't hurt her.

She thought that she did not give herself hope for such a marriage - especially since it was predetermined. The trip to Volantis had brought them closer in every way. They discussed a lot, lying naked, hugging each other. He listened attentively to her observations and arguments, presenting his own. Their conversations were always respectful and understanding.

She carried her pregnant belly with pride, walking around the palace with a broad, contented smile. Even the ladies who until then had simply pretended not to see her, bowed to her from the waist. She didn't really care what they thought of her, but she felt more and more at home in the Red Keep.

However, one morning, as she lay cuddled up to her husband, she felt a strange, uncomfortable spasm. She murmured softly, trying to sleep on, but she felt the pain again, pinching and stinging like a needle. She lifted herself lightly on her shoulder and felt the warmth between her thighs. She lifted the quilt and froze. She saw a pool of blood.

All she could hear, was her own heartbeat and her rapid, labored breathing. She was unable to move or make a sound. Her lips tightened and trembled, her eyes turned red from the tears welling up. Her body began to tremble, she was making high-pitched noises, her hands clenching the sheet.

Aemond propped himself up on one elbow, sleepy, seeing that for some reason she was awake. He froze, looking at blood on the sheet.

Neither of them moved for a moment, breathing heavily. He touched her back with his trembling hand, as if to convey to her what he felt with his touch. She heard him take a quick breath and bow his head. He stood up, opened the door, and ordered the measter to be summoned.

***

Aemond watched as his wife's servants changed her into a clean nightgown, and helped her lay in bed in fresh new sheets. Lady Vhassar was pale and had not spoken since morning. The queen spoke reassuringly to her, stroking her shoulder, but she didn't seem to be listening, completely in her own world. She didn't shed a single tear.

The maester was saying something to him, but he wasn't listening, staring at her deliberately. However, he shuddered at his last sentence.

"I'm afraid, my prince, that your wife will not be able to carry any pregnancy to term." He said finally. Aemond felt his heart pounding. He pursed his lips and said nothing. He wanted to cry.

"Does she know about it?" It was all he managed to get out of him.

"Yes. I had to tell her." He said, and Aemond squeezed his eye shut in rage, holding back the tears he felt in his eyelid.

"Get out. All of you. Immediately." He said cooly and cold.

His mother looked at him surprised, crying, and got up. She walked over to him and grabbed his arms, stroking them comfortingly, looking at him with pain. She nodded and left, followed by the maids, closing the door behind them.

They remained alone in the chamber, outside the window which his wife was looking at they could hear the quiet, pleasant singing of birds.

Aemond walked slowly over to the bed and sat next to her, watching her. For the first time since he had met her her face was expressionless, her gaze blank. He was horrified by what had happened, the maester's words and her condition.

"Say something." He said in a shaky voice, looking at her expectantly. All he heard was her swallowing softly.

"Marry your mistress."

He stared at her in disbelief, thinking that he had misheard. His lower lip parted slightly. He felt a pain in his chest as if someone had stabbed him with a dagger.

"What?" He asked, enraged and devastated.

"Take a second wife like Aegon the Conqueror. You must have an heir, and I can't give it to you. I'm useless as a wife." She said it so calmly, gently, and without hesitation that he felt as if he would burst into sobs in front of her.

"I don't want a second wife." He whispered in a trembling, cracking voice. "I want you."

There was silence between them. He saw a tear roll down her cheek.

"I'm sorry." She whispered almost inaudibly.

He leaned forward suddenly and buried his face in her hand, which was lying haphazardly on the sheets, kissing it again and again.

He thought that she was broken and in despair, that she said these things because she was suffering. She wasn't thinking straight, she was terrified and wanted to push him away from her. He tried to calm himself with these thoughts.

“I will not take a second wife. I want you to rest. I will order all your favorite fruits and flowers to be brought." He said, looking up at her, but she didn't even spare him a glance.

He swallowed hard and stood up, leaving the room. He found Namyss with his eye and nodded at her. The girl ran to him quickly, terrified.

"How is my Lady? Does she need anything?" She asked in a trembling voice, her face red from crying. Aemond nodded.

"Convince her to eat something. Bring her some orange juice. The measter said it would give her strength. Don't leave her alone even for a moment." He said coldly and walked quickly down the corridor.

He had a plan. If anyone could help his wife, it was Alys.

***

It took him several hours to fly to Harrenhal on Vhagar. He landed in a place a few kilometers away from the castle, so as not to endanger the inhabitants.

He knew that what he was doing was risky. That his wife would be furious when she found out. He wondered if he should tell her what he wanted to do, that he thought there was hope.

He thought that she was in such a state, that the thought that he was going to bring Alys to her would probably break her even more. He didn't want to take any more risks.

He also knew that he was coming to Alys with a request that would hurt her dignity and her feelings for him. He had never felt so helpless and desperate in his life.

He couldn't get out of his head the sight of her pale face, staring blankly to the side. He had the impression that the fire of life she had inside her was just extinguished before his eyes.

Alys greeted him as he entered, throwing herself into his arms, but he didn't hug her back. After a moment she released him, feeling how tense he was, and looked at him, her lips pressed together.

"You didn't come here to stay in bed with me, did you?" She asked, pain painted in her eyes. His heart clenched at the sight.

"I need your help." He said with a slightly trembling voice. Alys stared at him with an unreadable expression on her face.

“I will give you what you want if you give me what I want. Although this last time." She whispered softly, her lips swollen with desire and longing. Aemond squeezed his eye shut.

"I can't." He whispered.

Alys looked at him coldly and pursed her lips in pain.

"So I can't help her either." She said calmly, hurt and humiliated. Her eyes widened in shock as he knelt in front of her.

"I am begging you. I failed you, not her." He said in a shaky voice, lowering his eye. Alys breathed uneasily, shivering all over. “She had a miscarriage this morning. The maesters say she will never bear a child. I trust only you on this matter. I'm just asking you to examine her and see if there's anything you can do."

Alys swallowed hard at his words.

"I know. I saw it in my vision." She whispered, lowering her eyes.

There was a long, awkward silence. Aemond couldn't look at her. He knew how much she had done for him, he knew what he had promised her, and he knew how much he now expected of her.

"You promised me that she would only be the mother of your children." She said softly, painfully. Aemond squeezed his eye shut at her words, tears welling up in his eyelid.

"I know." He whispered. He couldn't add anything else.

A lone tear ran down her cheek as she looked at him.

"Take me to her."

***

As they landed back in King's Landing, Aemond felt a surge of hope again. He had seen Alys treat incurable cases and she knew herbs and ointments that remedies unknown to the maesters. He was grateful to her that despite the pain, she decided to help him.

"Thank you." He whispered as they walked together through the palace corridor side by side. It was evening around them.

People around him looked at them in surprise, but he didn't care. He knew his wife would be furious, but he hadn't broken his promise, and she was the only one who could help them. He hoped she would forgive him.

He froze as he saw Namyss, trying to reach their shared chamber, grabbing at the door, trying to open it to no avail.

"What happened?" He asked coldly, approaching her agitated. Namyss was breathing heavily, terrified.

“My Lady said that she wanted to take a bath. That I should bring her some oils that were left in her old chamber. I left for a while and she shut the door." She sputtered.

Aemond felt as if a huge rock had dropped into his stomach. He turned towards the door, hit it with his foot several times and it swung open with a bang. The three of them stared in horror at the sight before them, but only Alys had the nerve to rush straight towards her.

His wife lay in a tub full of blood-stained water, her wrists cut, her head resting unconsciously on the edge, her mouth slightly parted. She didn't even react when Alys pulled her by the arms. Namyss screamed loudly and sobbed, covering her mouth with her hand. Aemond couldn't move.

"Help me get her out!" Alys called out, and only then did he suddenly regain control of his body, rushing over to her, lifting his wife's body out of the water. The cries of Namyss drew the guards. They scattered around the keep, wanting to inform the king and queen about this event. Aemond hadn't time to think about it.

They slipped her nightgown over her and laid her on the bed. Alys tore a piece of her dress, poured it with the oil that she had brought with her in her pankit, and wrapped her wrists tightly, squeezing them tight.

Lady Vhassar was half-conscious, staring at some distant point with misty eyes. Aemond knelt beside her on the bed, looking at her desperately, trembling all over.

"What have you done?" He asked, his voice breaking as he said the words. He saw a tear roll down his wife's cheek.

"You flew to her. You did the right thing. I wanted to help you. If I die, you can remarry." She whispered softly. Alys watched in pain as Aemond sobbed loudly, pressing her head against him, burying his nose in her hair.

"I flew to her so she could help you, I didn't break my promise!" He sputtered, devastated by her words and the thought that she did it because of him. That she thought he had left her, that he had returned to his mistress because she could not give him a child.

"I don't want another woman, I want you, I want you, I want you” He sobbed, holding her tightly in his arms. Alys had never seen him like this before. She swallowed hard, tying her other wrist.

"She lost a lot of blood. We need to replenish the iron in her body and make her stronger. Don't let her fall asleep." She said firmly, pulling jars of herbs and liquids, sealed in airtight jars from her large bag.

Aemond kissed his wife's forehead, stroking her head tenderly.

"Look at me." He whispered softly, lifting her chin. "Do not leave me."

The queen ran into their chamber, pale and terrified. She covered her mouth with her hand and nearly screamed when she saw the tub full of blood. The maester ran inside as well, moving quickly to the bed, checking her pulse.

"What have you done to her, woman? What is this?" He asked, seeing the jar she was pouring into one of the cups.

"Step aside, old man, and let me work." She said coldly, as she climbed onto the bed, parting her lips slightly with her fingers. "Lift her up a little, don't let her choke on it. It won't be tasty or enjoyable." She said briefly, and Aemond lifted his wife up so that she was sitting against his chest. He had to hold her head to keep it from slipping.

Alys began to force her potion down her throat. Lady Vhassar coughed and tried to break free, but they wouldn't let her. The maester protested.

"What's that supposed to mean? My queen, order this witch to be brought out." He said angry. Alicent shook her head, silent. She knew who this woman was. She looked at her son. She had never seen him like this before in her life.

Everyone calmed down as the maester checked Lady Vhassar's pulse several more times over the course of the hour. It began to feel more and more palpable, her face began to take on color again.

They finally let her fall asleep, tired and weak. She lay in the arms of her husband who lay behind her, his hand over her heart, making sure she was still alive. Alys watched the scene calmly.

"She'll survive." She said gently. "We made it on time."

______

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @astral-blossoms @randomdragonfires @amirawritespoorly @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes @darylandbethfanforever9

Others: @ethereallocs @bellameshipper @tssf-imagines @menaosama @it-is-getting-better @czegochceszlol @strangersunghoon

#aemond fanfiction #aemond fic #aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #aemond x oc #hotd aemond #aemond x you #aemond x y/n #aemond x fem!reader #ewan mitchell fanfic #aemond one eye #prince aemond #aemond x reader #aemond fluff #house of the dragon aemond #aemond the kinslayer #aemond targaryen smut #aemond smut #aemond angst #aemond x wife reader #dark aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell smut #ewan mitchell x reader #hotd fanfic #hotd smut #hotd x reader #hotd fluff #hotd x you #hotd x oc #house of the dragon

[sapphire-writes]

Despite Aemond being a prince, he fell in love with a servant and they have been in secret relationship. Can you please write an angsty fic where he breaks the news to her that he has been announced to have a betrothed? Deep down they know this day would come, but neither are ready to end what they they have created together.

Star Crossed ~ Aemond x Servant!Reader

note: love this request! hope you enjoy it, I'm sorry in advance for the angst! I'm working on more requests now, everyone has such creative prompts these have been so fun! 💚 word count: 1.3k warnings: descriptions of Aemond's eye injury, angst 💚requests are open💚

You had resided in the Red Keep for most of your life, though Aemond did not take notice of you until after the incident that claimed his eye. You were a scullery maid, mostly confined to the kitchens and occasionally the great hall when the cook needed you to rush up a dish that was left behind. 

The first time you truly interacted with Aemond, you had been alone in the kitchens and the prince had come walking in. His eye was still in the first stages of healing, the stitches spanning the majority of the left side of his face. The stitching was red, and the cheekbone was swollen. You had tried not to stare as he scowled at you.

“May I assist you with something, my prince?” you ask, wiping your hands on your apron. You curtseyed quickly, elbow knocking a yellow onion to the floor. You felt your face flush with embarrassment. 

Aemond sized you up, not yet speaking. You shifted nervously from one foot to the other but did not avoid his gaze. You did not look threatening, simply a child about his age he guessed. He did not recognize you. 

“What is your name?” Aemond said, lips barely moving. It pained him to move the muscles of his face so he tried to move his lips minimally when he spoke. It avoided the tugging of his stitches. 

“Y/N, my prince,” you told him, smiling earnestly. Aemond did not return the kindness you afforded him. You could feel the smile slipping from your face. 

“I wish for a meal,” Aemond told you, and you nodded. Aemond had been avoiding his family, taking his meals in his chambers when he returned from Driftmark. He was bedridden with pain for the majority of the time. He had awoken with hunger pains gnawing at his stomach and a desperate need to leave his chambers. Aemond was not a child who enjoyed being cooped up. 

So here he was, down in the depths of the kitchens searching for a meal. He had thought of having food delivered to him in the great hall, but the thought of interacting with people in his maimed state nauseated him. He already could not stand the pitiful looks of lords and ladies. 

But your look did not pity him. In fact, when he told you why he had come, you nodded enthusiastically, beckoning him to take a seat. You went over to a large pot and ladled a bowl full of steaming rabbit stew. You brought it over to him with a chunk of bread. 

Aemond took a spoonful and brought it to his lips. The liquid burns him and he flinches. 

“Careful, my prince,” you said, softly, handing him a handkerchief. Aemond took it, watching as you gathered a bowl for yourself and sat across from him. 

“What are you doing?” he asked, taking another bite. Your eyes are kind even when his words mean to be cruel. Aemond does not understand you. 

“I do not wish you to eat alone,” you tell him, slurping the stew, “it is terribly lonely.”

Aemond continues to watch you eat before picking up his spoon once more.

“Yes it is,” he agrees. 

Aemond joins you in the kitchens for his meals, and you grow quite close. As his eye heals, he begins to cover it with an eyepatch. 

“You do not need to wear that around me,” you assure him when his face twists in sadness.

“It upsets ladies,” he tells you, his pale cheeks reddening. 

“Well I am not a lady,” you quip back, causing Aemond to give you a stern look. 

“You are to me.”

The years go by, and Aemond returns to meals with his family as the humiliation of his wound begins to fade. Aemond grows into his dangerous looks and begins to take pride in the vengeance he seeks for the wrong done against him. He does not stop his visits to you in the kitchen, often breaking his fast with you before he trains early in the morning. 

“I brought you something,” he tells you one morning. He slides a small package towards you, wrapped in cheesecloth. You narrow your eyes, taking it from him. As you open it your lips part with shock. A necklace lays in front of you, set with a small sapphire. 

“Oh Aemond,” you say, eyes wide, “you’re too good to me.”

He stands and beckons you to turn, helping clasp the necklace around your throat. You aid him by holding your hair out of the way. 

“I have several years to make up, to match the kindness you showed me,” he tells you, “you were gentle to me, long before I showed you any affection.” 

You turn towards him, hand to your throat. 

“You owe me nothing,” you tell him, as he leans down, placing a kiss on your lips. Your whole body tingles. This is not the first time Aemond has kissed you, though you feel as though it will always feel like the first time. The fluttering in your stomach never seems to ease. 

When he pulls away he can’t help but smile at your rosy cheeks, the grin that stretches across your face. You are a ray of sunlight on his darkest days. He does not know what he would do, or who he would be without your kindness. 

You cannot help but feel giddy when Aemond leaves, still admiring the sapphire pendant that adorns your neck. Though even in your happiness you cannot stop the fear that gnaws at the back of your mind in moments when you are alone with your thoughts. Aemond, your Aemond, is a man of duty, and a prince. He shall be forced to marry sooner or later. You chase the thought away, by keeping yourself busy.

The day comes sooner than you thought. 

Aemond comes to the kitchens late in the night. You had waited for him, knowing he journeyed to Storm’s End. You waited in anticipation until he made himself known. You could hear him come down the steps, the sounds of wet leather echoing in the air. You ran to him, throwing yourself into his arms. 

Aemond was frozen, soaked to the bone, and you quickly ushered him toward the hearth. He shook off his leather jacket and removed his boots, his face grief-stricken. He would not speak of what occurred, the incident too fresh in his mind. 

“I am to marry Floris Baratheon,” he told you, when he finally spoke after a bowl of stew. You froze, eyes wide. Be brave, you told yourself. 

“We knew this was going to happen,” you tell him, voice a hushed whisper. You can feel your throat constricting, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. Aemond stands coming to face you, bringing his hands to caress your face. 

“I do not want her,” he tells you, “she shall be my wife in name, yes, but nothing more.”

“Aemond-” you say, shaking your head. 

“Nothing needs to change,” he assures you, and the tears spill over.

“Everything is changing,” you sob, clutching his chest, “what am I to do?”

Aemond holds you against him as you cry, the hot tears mixing with the wetness his shirt still holds from the rain. 

“You shall marry, and sire babes, and you shall care for her,” say through your tears, “because you are a kind man, Aemond, a dutiful man.”

Aemond feels his heart breaking in his chest at the sound of your voice, so hopeless.  

“I shall take care of you,” Aemond promises, stroking your hair. You close your eyes against him and for a moment allow yourself to believe him. To believe the fantasy that nothing shall change. That you may sit in these kitchens together, eating and laughing, and that he is yours.

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