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queers-gambit · 8 months

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Mother Knows No Bounds

prompt: you are Rhaenyra's daughter, married to Prince Aemond, and the subject of Alicent's hatred. one day, she takes it too far.

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x female!reader technically Velaryon!wife!reader, but you can pick and choose

fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon

word count: 5.7k+

note: 10,000 points to your Hogwarts House if you can find the Lord of the Rings quote

warnings: cursing, vilified!Alicent, Aemond needs his big brother. descriptions of potentially triggering content: miscarriages, natural abortions, toxic family being toxic; um is this technically neglect? abuse? potentially triggering description of medical phenomenons, i guess OC Aemond ?

please note again and do not proceed if you are triggered by any of the following content: descriptions of potentially triggering content: miscarriages, natural abortions, involuntary termination, depiction of medical procedure.

you are not missing anything by skipping this, please value your comfort!

The city had come to a screeching halt the moment extreme temperatures skyrocketed, citizens unable to bear the scorching sun during waking, working hours. It was only the brave, stupid, poor, or accommodated persons that dared venture about their lives when the heat index had tripled; silent, since the heat was so sweltering, nobody wanted to add to it by talking. Even the animals were quiet and scarce around the streets, most seeking shelter under any shade they could find.

Women skinny dipped. Children ran around without their clothes. Men forewent any and all armor, most even going shirtless.

The guards were on short patrols and constantly rotated to try and save them from heatstroke. The fishermen all left port to spend time on the water since it was cooler than being on land. Whores wore less than ever before. Vendors constructed makeshift fans for their own air current.

The temperature spike was truly murderous. At dusk, gravediggers traveled the city with a bell and horse-toted cart, announcing if anyone wanted their dead disposed of, now was the time. The heat caused any elderly to dehydrate, their hearts simply stopping; and for young children to overheat and catch too-high fevers.

It was a dreadful time to be alive in King's Landing because the city had next to no coverage, so, the sun beat down on citizens in a suffocating, unbearable, offensive manner. None stood a chance: the young, old, rich, poor, everyone was a target.

For some reason, the fat Lords of the Realm had demanded the King hold court to voice their complaints; temperatures making many operate on short fuses. However, due to his sickly, deteriorating state and wicked weather, King Viserys was unable to sit the Throne; the responsibility falling onto the Hand of the King, Otto Hightower. And because she was Queen, his daughter, Alicent was always in attendance.

Yet for some reason, she had sent guards and servants to retrieve her children - including you.

You'd been married to Aemond about 21 months, and while a seemingly short time, certain single days felt more like three when loved by a man you considered your best friend. You had known the One Eyed Prince back when he had no need for an eyepatch, sapphire, or silly nickname, and for years, you were decent friends before growing to attach at the hip. He was kind, sweet, intelligent, and best of all, he was a wildly good listener. Even as a child, he didn't talk too much, but still more than he did now; and all his life, he was simply a listener. It made for a peaceful and trustworthy marriage.

21 months of marriage, and now, (almost) 7 months pregnant.

Aemond was over the moon with pride, joy, and excitement when you told him the news. He was eager to meet the babe, and the moment he learned, Aemond started gathering whatever material and furniture he could. He commissioned 11 Septas to knit a series of baby blankets; most with Targaryen colors and / or design. Otto was happy to see his grandson looking forward to married life, and Helaena was elated for you both. She's always liked you like a sister, always thought you were kind, just, and fair, with a healthy balance of being stubborn - all topped off with heaping loyalty. To everyone's surprise, even Aegon sincerely offered congratulations to you both when you broke the joyful news, telling you and Aemond he was excited to meet his newest niece or nephew.

However, amongst the fanfare and triumph, two women remained permanently dismayed by the entire marriage that the prospect of a child genuinely angered them.

The first woman was your mother, Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen, but she was annoyed simply because she knew the Targaryen Curse was real and thought this was not something you should endure. You were her firstborn, her brightest star, her dearest love; she worried herself to the brim about you, and while she respected your marriage, she's never offered approval.

The second woman was Aemond's mother, Queen Alicent Hightower, who chose to silently seeth to herself (for a time) instead of voicing any opinion or emotion. Years ago, she and your mother were the closest of friends, and after she married Viserys, Alicent lost her friend and the tension has only festered from there. However, now that Rhaenyra was living on Dragonstone, you were the only person close enough to take the brunt end of Alicent's anger and she found new ways to project that. Simply put, she despised you - but she would've hated whoever "took" her (unofficial) favorite child "from" her; who became the leading lady in his life. Alicent's anger was justified, but only towards Rhaenyra - not you.

Yet communication and emotional intelligence was rare in this day.

Alicent knew you were innocent of everything. Yet somedays, she could not restrain her anger and would lash out like a dog chained-up; but you had thick skin. You always endured her quick jabs, sharp tongue, and snarling insults because you loved and respected Aemond too much to bite back at his mother. However, while most days, Alicent was amicable, some days, she was a downright bitch, and other days, she was absolutely diabolical.

Alicent's anger took over and when this happened, she was powerless towards impulse; resulting in usually terribly stressful events that honestly have no business being so fucking stressful - or even further, by becoming catastrophic. For example, years ago, when Luke cut Aemond's eye from his socket, she took the King's dagger from his person and tried to attack Rhaenyra. She ended up slicing the Crowned Princess' forearm, but far more damage was already done, and nothing would ever be the same.

Alicent's anger often blinded her and drove her to impulsive decisions or reactions, and this today, in this heatwave, she went too far.

You were sat in your bedchambers, Aemond at your side as you both listened to a sweating Grand Maester; both your hand and your husband's resting on the curve of your pregnant belly.

"Now, remember, Princess, in these conditions, it's important to lay low for the sake of your health and the baby's. Don't be on your feet in the heat too long, don't exert yourself, drink more water than you usually would, and rest as much as possible." He handed you a tea bag, explaining, "For the nerves before bed."

"Thank you," you agreed, taking what he offered. Aemond saw the Grand Maester out of your chambers as you sighed, using a handheld fan to wave cooler air over your face.

"It's criminal, this heat. Gotta get someone in here with a fan," Aemond mumbled to himself, leading you to a lounge chair to rest on. "Can I get you anything, sweet love?"

"Water, if you'd please," you smiled.

He agreed and stood, but just then, a knock sounded at the door. "Come in," Aemond permitted, moving to the table in the room to pour you a goblet of water. The guard who entered wasn't known to you by name, but Aemond greeted him casually, "Ser Mythos. What do we own this pleasure?"

"The Queen's requested you both in the Throne Room, my Prince."

"Do you know why?" Aemond grit.

"The Queen's requested you both in the Throne Room, my Prince."

"I've asked you why."

"The Queen's requested you both in the Throne Room, my Prince."

"Fuck's sake," you snapped, "we heard you! Yeah? Gods," you cursed, head tilted back in annoyance; eyes squeezing shut as your child kicked your bladder.

"The Queen has requested you both in the Throne Room, my Lady and my Prince."

Aemond glanced at you, sighed shortly through his nose, then turned to Ser Mythos to snap, "I will be along shortly, but my wife was told to rest in this heat for our baby's health. We'll need palms brought in for fanning."

"And the Queen has requested you both in the Throne Room, my Prince, both of you. Both, my Prince, both."

Your eyes rolled, telling Aemond, "I think the Queen wants us both, my love." Then shifted your glare towards the messenger, sounding as tired as you looked, "All right, fine, fine, fine, fucking fine, give us a moment to dress and we will be there presently."

"My Lady," the guard accepted, turned, and left the room.

"What could Mother want with us both?" Aemond snipped at you when the door shut with an echoing-clang.

"Does it matter? She's called for us," you frowned.

"They can at least call you by your proper title - we are married now. You are a Princess of the City, they should address you as such."

You waved him off, "Who cares about that? C'mere. Help me up, my love, please. Your kid's sitting heavy."

You and Aemond dressed for court in thin clothing before fixing your hair so it didn't cling to either of your necks. It was already far too warm to even think properly, and surely, nobody would judge if you attended court with your hair pulled up, nor judge Aemond for the fashionably bun you convinced him to wear. No make-up was used, no heels; no corset, nor any pinch of leather. Aemond didn't like the last bit, but you were stern in your worry, telling him that leather would retain his body heat and today was already stifling enough.

When ready, you vacated your chambers and walked to the Throne Room, seeing it filled with a sizable crowd that surely would do nothing to help the sticky heat hanging in the air. Aemond held your hand tightly with his head held high to lead you towards his mother, who stood at the base of the Iron Throne. When close enough, Aemond asked, "You called for us, Your Grace?"

"I did," she eyed you both. "This is a good learning opportunity for you both, I thought it best we were all here."

"Mother, it's too hot for - "

"We are all suffering the same heat," she cut Aemond off.

"Yes, but my wife is pregnant, Mother. The Maester told her to rest, not stand in court with a hundred bloody people."

"You mean to tell me she has a higher priority than - "

"Yes. That is what I am saying, Mother. My wife certainly has priority over everything else as far as I am concerned."

Alicent shook her head, "For as long as we hold places in court, we will attend court. All of us, as a united family. Now, pay attention, you both will hold places here after King Viserys, best you know this all now."

So, you stood there like an obedient dog as slowly, one person after another approached the Throne to tell Ser Otto Hightower their grievances. They yapped up all the advice and court rulings; Aemond standing at your side, and while he was listening to what was being said, he also kept an eye on you out of sheer worry. There was no air to blow, no window to open; mediocre fans and palms brought in to manually wave by a few sets of servants. Yet it wasn't enough.

Sweat bulleted on brows. Pale cheeks flushed with heat. Legs started to shake from stress. Clothes dampened and clung to skin.

You were all of the above and then some!

The heat felt criminally offensive, and you knew you wore your displeasure on your face. Discomfort while pregnant isn't easy to hide, your hand smoothing over your belly as you exhaled a slow, calming breath that did literally nothing to aid your tangible anger. The common folk still reported to Otto, but you knew this was far from over, trying to blink back your discomfort as your stomach churned; twisted; started to cramp with increasingly stabbing pain. The heat festered a headache and soon, the nausea set in.

Taking another deep, long breath, you focused on the man complaining about his neighbor stealing his crops, his silver, and how the other man was fucking his wife - in his very own barn! The man asked for permission to sentence the neighbor to trial by combat, and for the life of you, you could not understand why you needed to be present for this.

Another farmer came up, saying there were too many maggots in his fields and needed the King's coin to bring in specialized mulch for himself and all the farmers in all of the Riverlands - who were plagued by this contagious maggot infestation.

Some Lord of Some Lineage From Some Castle of Some Place came up and asked for an increased patrol of "the King's Men", sell swords sent to "keep the King's peace." A group with radically different tactics than Daemon's Gold Cloaks.

This "Some Lord of Some Lineage From Some Castle of Some Place" even presented his daughter, saying she was fit to marry the Prince Aemond. Eyes turned to you and for whatever reason, you felt embarrassed by the sudden attention. So, you shied away from it, shifting slightly closer to Aemond as Otto spoke with a bored expression, "Prince Aemond is wedded already. As is his brother, Prince Aegon."

"What 'bout the li'l one?"

"Pardon?" Otto blinked.

"The Queen's last son?"

"With respect, my Lord, our son is still a child learning the ways of the world and is no way fit to marry quite yet," Alicent cut in, your feet going numb and making you sway slightly. "The Crown has learned from other marriage pacts to examine all offers carefully," but Alicent's sharp words flew over your head as something in your stomach pinched sharply like a severe period cramp. Your breathing came out in shudders; holding onto Aemond securely as he looked down at you with worry.

Your entire face, neck, and chest glistened with sweat. It clung to your hair, raced down your chest, and when he got a closer look, he didn't like the discoloration to your skin. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong...

"Then it shall be a long engagement so you might consider my daughter well!" The Lord barked, laughing gruffly. "She is not a disappointment, my Lord Hand."

"The Crown will consider your offer, Lord Peregrin, but the Crown must weigh other presented offers before marrying young Prince Daeron to anyone," Otto spoke diplomatically.

"Aye, I'll offer her dowry. Twenty thousand good men for your army, and I can spare about 500 Gold Dragons."

"Our army? Are we at war?" Otto faked a chuckle, your vision starting to blur but you refused to cause a scene. Your mouth had cotton in it; tongue sticking to your roof and your cramps were getting worse. You sweat so much, it was running down your neck, forehead, shoulders, lips, thighs, chest.

"Well, no, perhaps not in this moment, Lord Hand - Your Grace - but we know the rumors about the King's lineage," the Lord spoke boldly, making your blood boil, but the pain was over-powering your ability to speak. Tears actually coated your eyes. "Prince Aegon should be named the rightful heir to the Throne, so, if the time comes that he needs an army, my daughter's marriage to Prince Daeron would guarantee those men and swords."

Otto sighed as you gulped harshly, wincing in pain, a single tear rolling down your cheek. The cramping intensified, the bolts of pain setting your muscles on fire and radiating into your organs - or so it felt like. The Throne Room was too hot for you to withstand much longer; there was no water, and you'd been standing there going on three hours. Not to mention, you had been throwing up terribly violent in the night and mornings, meaning, you were probably (very likely) very dehydrated and that wasn't good for you nor the baby.

The longer you stood there, the sicker you felt. The longer you stood there, the more Aemond worried. The longer you stood there, the more time you had to develop a strong resentment towards Alicent. Your hand went to your belly, trying to regulate your breathing, but even your dress gave you away - sweat darkening the hemlines. Since finding out you were pregnant, you and Aemond agreed you would no longer wear corsets, and for a whole weekend, he took you to Highgarden to visit the tailors. They created a whole new "maternity wardrobe" that was loose but still womanly by being formfitting. They were made of breathable material, since Highgarden was tropical and often warm; and Aemond adored the sight of your bump.

"Aemond," you whispered, your husband looking down at you but so did Alicent. "I'm not feeling well, my love. I-I need to sit, I need water."

"We're almost done - "

"This is not the time to distract everyone," Alicent snapped quietly at you. "Focus, and let Aemond focus, too, he's the Prince. You don't need him for your every whim."

You only nodded and closed your mouth, clearing your throat of emotion, knowing something didn't wasn't right. It was more than a gut feeling now, you just inherently knew something was wrong. Disconnected. Short circuiting.

The hall was too hot.

Stifling hot. Suffocatingly hot. Stuffy sort of hot.

Overwhelmingly hot.

Hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, so fucking hot!

Your nausea got worse to the point you were going to hurl at any moment. You know that feeling? C'mon, yes you do! You start to feel a little shaky, then your mouth starts "sweating" (or watering) and you even get a little clammy; maybe you even start to look gaunt? Maybe your skin changes color? That feeling? Yeah, that's exactly what was happening!

So, to keep calm, you just start taking long, deep breaths. The last thing you wanted to do was panic when surrounded by so many members of court... Then something that felt like urine raced down your inner thighs, yet you barely noticed it, too distracted with keeping upright. Blood puddled beneath your skirts on the stone but nobody noticed yet. More Lords came and went, some Ladies, more and more farmers with trivial disputes. Fathers, sons, uncles, neighbors, you name it!

However, to your earnest shock, when a particularly amusing man came to speak to the King('s Hand), Aegon had glanced at his brother with an amused smirk, but caught sight of you, requiring a double-take. "Brother," Aegon turned from his 'front row seat', showing a rare moment of emotion by looking concerned at your being. "Oh, Gods, fuck," he worried, looking ready to extend his arms to you.

"Fuck," Aemond breathed, turning you to face him. "Can you hear me, sweet love? Hey, hey," he spoke your name, "can you hear me?"

But it was as if you were in a trance. Waves crushed over your ears, sweat rolling down your skin, appearing clammy and as if not in your own body. Aegon jolted forward when your eyes rolled back in your head, knees buckling, forcing your husband to catch you before you began your descent to the ground. When he caught you, it revealed the blood from under your skirts, and when Aemond got you on the ground, he realized your legs were coated in slick, mucus, and both dried and fresh blood; indicating you had been bleeding for hours.

"Call the Maester!" Aemond barked. "Get the bloody Maester!"

"She's bleeding," Aegon pointed out.

"I have eyes to see, brother, I know she is bleeding!" Aemond snapped, his panic tangible. "Love! My sweet love, please, open your eyes, please. Fuck's sake, please, open your eyes - let me see them. Sweetheart, please, c'mon - FUCK! Brother! Brother, help, please, there's blood! There's too much blood! Aegon! What do I do!? Aegon, please! What do I do!?"

"Let her breathe, brother, the Maester's are coming, it's gonna be all right, I-I've heard this can happen. Okay? Just gotta wait for the Maesters, Aemond," Aegon nodded, reaching a hand to his younger brother's shoulder in comfort. Otto descended the Throne to get a closer look as guards surrounded your unconscious body and Aemond's panicked, kneeling form.

"What happened?" Otto demanded.

"She passed out," Helaena frowned in worry, looking as if tears would soon fall. "And there's blood - she's been swaying, I-I think she was ill."

"It's the heat," Aemond snapped, tears down his cheeks. "We were told she needed rest in this temperature, but no." His glare turned to his mother, "We were both expected here."

"You saw the Grand Maester?"

"We did."

"He told her to lie down?" Otto asked, looking and sounding confused.

"To rest," Aemond nodded, supporting your limp head and neck.

When the Grand Maester arrived, he wasted no time in demanding your limp form be brought to his chambers for monitoring and examination. Aemond picked you up and carried you, leaving everyone else behind - or so he thought. The Maester spent a grand total of 43 minutes conducting diagnostic tests, and when the last exam was brought up, he asked Aemond to step out of the room as the examination would turn more intimate.

When Aemond stepped out, he was surprised to see Aegon and Helaena standing there. Aegon instantly pushed off the wall, asking, "Well? How is she? What's happening?"

"One last test," Aemond answered in a low mutter. "What're you doing here?"

"We wanted to make sure you were both all right," Helaena, his sweet sister, answered.

"Mother didn't demand you stay?"

"No, Mother actually called an end to court," Helaena told Aemond. "Grandfather was very angry."

"He was?"

"Never seen him like that," Aegon agreed, telling Aemond of the words Otto raged at Alicent.

When the chamber doors opened, Aemond was invited back inside. He took to your side instantly, but there was a knowing look in your eyes. You never looked at the Maester, only at your husband, as it was explained that due to the heat, you had become dehydrated over time and then spending the day in court, it was just too long a time being on your feet without water or fresh air. You had toppled over the side of heat stroke, the lack of hydration causing you to involuntarily miscarry.

The child would not grow and for your safety and health, the Maester would have to preform essentially what is an abortion to eliminate exposure to rot. Aemond blinked in astonishment, feeling confused about the turn of events, but when he realized you weren't able to respond, he looked at you.

He made the decision, seeing tears streaking your cheeks and the dead look in your eyes.

You were prepped for the procedure and while the Master tried to escort Aemond out, nobody was able to move him from his place at your side. It took the better part of an hour, but when it was over, not only were you given an additional dose of Milk of the Poppy, but Aemond was also given several vials for you in the coming days. He was also given a plethora of herbs, spices, remedies, salves, therapies, and treatments; being given explicit instruction and detail about all he was given, being told when to use what to best help you.

Aemond stooped to pick you up, again, refusing to let anyone else touch you, and the Grand Maester held the door for him. Aegon, Helaena, Alicent, and Otto were all revealed, but Aemond didn't even so much as blink at them; whatever life might've been left lurking behind his eye being completely snuffed out. He made a direct beeline for your chambers with the intention to let you rest in a soft, familiar bed for however long you needed, but he was followed by his family and knew this would be anything but a peaceful time.

"L-Love?" You whimpered when your husband laid you on your marital bed. "Aemond? Aemond?" You asked a little more frantically, being soothed swiftly.

"I'm here, I'm right here, sweetheart," he hushed, ignoring the audience; one hand holding yours as the other pet your hair back. "Hey, just breathe for me, darling, I'm right here. I've got you."

"I-I might be sick," you complained in a whisper, eyes unable to open as sweat bulleted on your skin.

"'S all right," he assured, grabbing a basin to leave on the bed beside you so he could sit at your side. "'M right here, you're not alone."

Aemond watched the way you harshly gulped, a hand dragging up to press to your belly. "W-What happened?" You mumbled, making his heart clench. "I just... There was a lot of heat and then pain." Your eyes finally opened to meet his, "I remember pain, Aemond."

With a glance up at his family, Aemond told you stiffly, "You remember correctly, love. The, uh... The heat was too much for you to handle, sweet girl, and that wasn't your fault." He took a long breath, clutching one of your hands in both of his, "But it was just too much. We couldn't save them... We couldn't save her."

"I-It was a girl?"

"It was," Aemond confirmed, reaching for your other hand to hold tightly. "And you didn't do this. Hmm? You hear me? This is not your doing."

"But my body - "

"No," he refused with a harsh tone. Realizing you were not the one to take his anger out on, he cleared his throat, "Sorry, love, I just," he took a breath. "Listen to me, okay? No, my sweet love, we were told to rest - you and I were told this heat was too much for the babe and that you would need rest. We meant to, we had every intention to follow the Maester's orders, but..." Another pause as he fought off the emotion clawing through his chest. "But for some reason, royal obligation was more important than our family, and Mother refused to let us miss today's court appearance."

"Huh...?" You breathed, still relatively drowsy from the day. But the emotion was real, your husband saw your pain. "What're you talking about, love? Aemond? What's - What the hell happened to our baby? Where's our baby?"

Aemond's jaw steeled and a tear streaked down his cheek as he forced himself to explain, "The Queen demanded our attendance in court today. And standing in the heat for hours cost us our daughter's life. I am so sorry, my sweet love, but we do not have our daughter because she is... She isn't in your womb anymore," his hand laid over your belly, your own automatically following. "She can't ever join us, our family," he spoke slowly, then tearing his glare away from your tired figure to his mother, sneering, "because my mother can't let go of a decades-old feud with a woman no longer living in this very city."

"Aemond," you whispered, heart shattered in your chest but still managing, "do not take this out on her."

"No?" He snapped, still glaring at his mother but clutching your belly, "If not for her, our daughter would still be safe in her mother's womb and we'd still have the chance to one day hold her. But no," he spoke as slowly as he stood to his feet, pulling his hands away from you, "no, we were unjustly denied that chance."

When her (favorite) child faced her with such hatred, dread, distraught, soul-sucking eyes, Alicent frowned with tears in her own eyes. She had so much to say, but only managed, "I did not intend for this."

"This hatred you feel for Rhaenyra is literally costing lives! For the love of all the Gods, my wife is nothing like her mother! They are not one in-the-same, this does not make her your new target to unleash Hell upon - she has done no wrong and yet suffers these heinous consequences!"

"I did not intend for this! You must know that!" She repeated in desperation. "I only wanted you both to partake in your duties - soon, you will be the ones conducting business at court and you must be readied for what may come!"

"That does not give you the right to forfeit her health!"

"How was I to know - "

"The bloody Maester told us - but evidently, the word of the trained professional is not good enough for you!" Aemond raged, something in his heart snapping. "We are denied the right to meet our daughter because, what? What is it? You cannot reach Rhaenyra right now so you will take the closest thing - being my fucking wife!?"

"Aemond," Otto tried to step in, "perhaps this is getting out of hand."

"It was already out of hand," Aegon defended with a sharp snap, "the moment the Maester was ignored."

"You refuse to respect us," Aemond snapped at his mother, everyone silencing themselves when another tear fell down his cheek. "You refuse to respect us, to listen, and all for why? You think you know better than the Maesters? Or because she is daughter of Rhaenyra?"

"Aemond," Alicent warbled through her tears.

"You've gone too far," his head shook, devastation taking hold, "and I do hope you find deliverance from the Gods, because from me? I do not see how I can find a shred of ability to forgive such a sin."

It was quiet. Helaena's head was bowed, Aegon glared at his mother like Aemond; Otto frowned as he avoided all eye contact.

Imagine everyone's surprise when bare feet padded over the stone ground, two shaking hands raising to press into Aemond's stomach from behind. "My love," you mumbled softly, "please, do not speak so hatefully in this prolonged grief. We will do all we can do now and pray on this, but if we want to heal, we will need to learn to forgive. This was not a malicious, thought-out plan executed in partner with the co-conspiring weather; it was a terrible circumstance that the Gods have chosen us to endure. Your mother can pray for forgiveness, she's owed that right; and we will say our own, but I know that one day, we will be blessed and bring a child into this world. Because it's you and I, Aemond, and our child would be the full embodiment of the purest, truest love - and for something that perfect, we'll need time." You took a breath, looking sickly, gaunt; eyes full of tears as you ended, "But it is not this day."

Aemond turned to wrap his arms around you, insisting, "You should be resting." When he got you to turn to move for the bed again, he snarled at his mother, "She's the one who just lost a child and yet still defends you."

"Perhaps it's best we leave them alone," Aegon recommended. "We'll have meals sent for you both," he told his brother with a meaningful nod. "You both just take your time."

"Thank you," Aemond sighed, easing you back to the mattress; laying a single, thin sheet over your body. When Aegon had ushered everyone out, Aemond just stared down at you for a long moment, sighing sadly and whispering, "I'm so sorry, sweet love."

"Just lay with me," you requested.

He moved to strip himself of his linens, the heat still sweltering, and laid beside you; instantly cuddling you into his bare chest. Aemond knew you didn't want to talk, but this needed said, and he whimpered, "This is my fault."

"What?" You gaped, looking up at him in shock. You quickly pulled his leather eye patch off to force his full attention, holding his cheek and demanding, "What did you just say?"

"If you and I did not marry, if I had not pursued you - courted you," he shook his head, brows crinkled from restrained sobs, "we would not be in this position, you would not know this pain. We knew the tension in our family, we knew the hatred between our mothers, and still I wanted you. This is my fault, I shouldn't've done this - you should not have to endure this."

Your hand reached up to caress the side of his face; foreheads pressed together to breathe the same air, warm the same space, sweat onto one another, but never wanting to be apart. It was a sticky embrace but you both needed it, and you hushed, "I regret nothing about us. Nothing, Aemond. If I knew how this would play out, I'd do it all again because I know I love you beyond words. Beyond," you giggled lightly, "rational thought, even. Aemond, everything you are, I adore, and all we are together is... It's the greatest pleasure of my life. My greatest honor."

"I do not deserve a woman like you."

"Perhaps not," you teased, "but you have me anyway. And what do we do with rare women, my Prince?"

His lips found yours in a sweeping kiss that stole the breath from your lungs. When he pulled back, he whispered, "We love them well."

A week later, King's Landing would find relief from the unwavering, record-breaking heatwave - only to be blasted by a wave of dragon fire. It was only then the Prince Aemond was seen with his wife for the first time since "The Throne Room Incident", and both were dressed in the traditional color of funerals: black.

You were bestowed an incredibly small bundle of black cloth, and with the rest of the Royal Family following, ventured to a distant hill where a funeral was to take place. Because your daughter was still so very tiny, she was laid in a fiery basin with only you and Aemond to preside over; offering prayer in High Valyrian. He held you close, the wind from the coast whipping all clothing around, and just behind everyone, Vhagar landed with a distinct thundering thud.

You didn't move, staring into the flames.

Aemond looked back, and when Vhagar saw the tears in her master's eye, noting the way he turned back to comfort you and grieve over your daughter, the dragon roared. A roar so loud, it was heard from the Riverlands. A roar so powerful, it shook the ground they all stood on. A roar so terrible, it made a few throats swell in emotion. A roar so sad, ballads would be written about it.

King's Landing might've been relieved from the weather's temperature, but as Vhagar felt her master mourning his daughter, she released an angry flame into the air that the citizens all felt.

For years, on the contrary, the entire city would feel Prince Aemond's cold shoulder to his mother, Queen Alicent, but for now, the heat of grief demanded to be felt.

requesting rules and masterlist

HOTD masterlist

#aemond targaryen #aemond #aemond one eye #prince aemond targaryen #prince aemond #aemond x reader #aemond fanfiction #hotd aemond #aemond the kinslayer #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x female reader #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aemond targaryen x f!reader #hotd #hotd imagine #house of the dragon #hotd x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen angst

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shooting-love-arrows · 6 months

Note

Hi! Can I request more on the Yandere! Barabarian? I dont of anything specif besides that but, maybe about his and darlings' life now after marriage?

Hello to you too @misfortunateleprechaun,

Here it is! Hope to hear from you again and have a nice day (even if it's not a daytime)!

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐍 and marriage headcanons

PAIRING: 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧 x reader (gender not mentioned/specified/implied) Tw. kidnapping, implied murder, blood, possessive tendencies, raids, marking, (at the end) horny yandere, grinding, mention of sex but nothing specific. A/N: There's a mention of a random name and celebration so don't fret that you don't know about something. Everything here is made up!

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

When you are officially married to 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧, you not only become his lifelong partner and a soul connected to his own for all of eternity but you also become one of his people. This means everything related to your past should end up just like your village – turned to ashes. Forgotten and left behind. The only good things your parents did were creating you. The village? Don’t make him laugh! He never saw a more pathetic excuse of one before in his life. So stop wasting your tears on them and embrace your new family and him!

“Shh…my treasure…shhh…” 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧 tried to console you. Even when you continue to trash in his hold, hit him in the chest repeatedly or scratch at him, he only brought you closer and tightened his hold on you. 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧 didn’t understand why you were acting like that, hysterically sobbing and pushing him away. Nor ever was he forced to comfort the person who was acting like that. “Why are you shedding tears for them? Shhh... Let’s celebrate Night Of Miracles (made up celebration) with your new husband and family, hm?”

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧 teaches you about his culture and language. In those quiet moments shared between you, sitting by fire, he tries his best to be a teacher (and he fails miserably). Although he’s a scholar by no means, he truly wants to make you feel like you belong. To make you understand that what he did and was doing was good. And he finds it amusing when he has to point things out to you like to a toddler. What he can’t teach you about, he requests for someone in his tribe to take his place (of course not without marking you beforehand just to be sure everyone will know who you belong to).

“...and that’s why Trinus I (made up character) brought his beloved the head of his first wife.” 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧 finished the old tale and sighed in content. The story leaves you more traumatized than you already are. There were a few seconds of silence, before he smirked cheekily. “Now, let me tell you about their wedding night.”

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧 marks you a lot and daily. Either by leaving big and deep hickeys in the most visible places or by braiding your hair in a similar way, making you wear his family crest/sigli, offering his clothes to wear and so on. One thing for certain, everyone must know (if they don’t already) that you’re his.

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧 could only admire you when you walked out of your shared tent, wearing his shirt, hair braided with similar braids to his and hickeys displayed on your neck. 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧 didn’t know whether to be more aroused or start trotting like a peacock.

Just like any good husband, 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧 brings you all sorts of gifts from his raids. It doesn’t matter if you want something or not. Either way, he’s going to bring all sorts of objects to choose from.

“W-what is it?” Your voice cracked after 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧 pulled away from a searing ‘welcome back’ kiss. He was still covered in blood, sweaty, smelling like smoke and panting heavily. But what caught your attention was a big woolen bag thrown over his shoulder, material stretched to the max. 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧 only smirked and you watched, horrified, as he carelessly let the items from the bag spill on the floor. You saw clothes, silver dinnerware, money, jewelry (is that a finger with a ring still on?) and many other knick knacks. You gulped thickly. “For you!” 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧 proudly announced and puffed out his chest.

(NSFW-ish) A lot of sex. This man has high libido and – just like all barbarians – are led by their carnal desires. It’s guaranteed he’s going to bed you on a daily basis. It doesn’t matter where or when. If he wants to have sex with you, then he’s going to do so. It’s especially rough when he returns from raids or hunting trips, covered in sweat and oozing with adrenaline and need of you. Those are wild nights ~

“I need you…” 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧 growled in your ear and aggressively nuzzled his nose in your neck. Since the moment his body touched yours, he started grinding into you. He just loved your scent. It was working on him like an aphrodisiac, turning him into an untamable beast ready to devour you. His chapped lips continue to aggressively leave a trail of wet kisses from your earlobe, down your neck and – after tearing open your loose shirt – your shoulder. “I fucking want you. Now.”

All of the published posts on this account/blog belongs to @shooting-love-arrows. I do not consent to my works being: translated, stolen, published or reposted on this and other sites. Likes, reblogs, comments are highly appreaciated. Thank you.

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wandasaura · 2 months

Text

MY FACE IN A RED FLUSH

summary — your first mistake was thinking natasha wouldn’t use the time away to tease you, your second mistake was thinking you could handle it

warning(s) — established relationship, married wandanat, smut, sexting, phone sex, teasing, fingering, nipple stimulation, degradation, praise, daddy kink, dom/sub relationship, bathroom encounter (nothing like… bad bad), begging, threats of punishment, wanda slaps r’s ass ;), the idiots banter but what’s new

authors note — i got carried away with this but hey, we got some development between wanda and r going on at least, also some insight to wandanats relationship and their dynamic + how the contract came about

you are in love universe

♥️⊹ ˚ . 18+, men/minors dni ⁺ 𓈒 ꒰💌꒱ ♡ ･ mommy maximoff ✧

Natasha was going to be gone on business for two full weeks. You’d expected the hardest part of that fact to be how you were sure to miss her, but you were severely mistaken. When day ten came around, and she still wasn’t home, you weren’t at all surprised to find that the several notifications waiting for your attention were all from her. She’d been doing her best to keep you informed in regards to her plans and meetings, and for the most part, she’d been behaving herself well, but the first glance at her messages had effortlessly set your mood for the remainder of the day.

Natasha | Daddy misses you, angel.

Natasha | I bet that sweet pussy misses me too.

Natasha | image attached

You couldn’t help but audibly groan when you opened your iMessages. It was instinctual, you never wanted to leave her messages unanswered, but you regretted your urgency to appease her the second you came face to face with her visibly damp panties and toned thighs that had acquired quite the tan since shipping off to the tropical island just over a week and a bit ago. The deep red material that you were all too familiar with was an even deeper shade of maroon now, so damp that it molded to the shape of her labia, and the bulge of her clitoris was captivating. A throb shot through your own core as you fantasized about taking care of her little situation with your mouth, tonguing at her panties until she got so annoyed with your teasing that she tore them in two and forced your head in close, but she was a thousand miles away, and you were under strict instructions not to touch yourself without her permission.

For a second, you questioned if Wanda had received the same image. If she had, which you were absolutely certain she did, you knew that the lawyer was rightfully hot and bothered, but you doubted she had the same rules as you. Wanda did not seem the type to submit, even if it meant appeasing her wife. After all, there would be no need for you in their relationship if she allowed Natasha to take the reins every once in a while, and you found yourself envious of the woman who could relieve herself at any chance.

You whined at the deep ache in your core, your panties positively ruined beyond a point of salvation when another image rolled through, though this time, she’d taken away your privilege of seeing her well defined lips and clit, however, she’d replaced what you’d lost with the sight of her hand buried in the material. It was her left hand, and the diamond on the center of her engagement ring pressed against the tight materials of her panties. You’d always found it exceptionally hot to be fucking a married woman with consent from her partner, but something about seeing her touch herself with the very hand that Wanda had kissed with adoration in front of all of their family and friends was truly vulgar. She wasn’t playing fair at all, but you suspected she had never intended to make this easy for you.

You | Daddy

It was a simple response, one that in no way encapsulated the millions of scenarios running through your head, but you had no other words to share with her. Not when you’d only just woken up and your sole interest was devouring her. You’d never been particularly good at communication, especially not when it came to sexual circumstances, but god did Natasha love to make you work for it. It shouldn’t have come as any surprise to you that she would pull a stunt like this, but you supposed your naivety was what captivated her so ferociously.

Natasha | Yes, angel? See something you like?

You | You.

You | Daddy, please.

Natasha | Please, what? Don’t you have a class to get to, I wouldn’t want to make you late. Get ready for school, moya lyubov.

Natasha | image attached

She was really playing dirty now. The unspoken promise that you wouldn’t be allowed to touch yourself felt like pure torture, but that had only worsened the blow for when the next picture rolled in seconds later. You’d half expected it to follow the saga of the others; some kind of display in regards to her dripping core and drenched panties. Would she pull them off to the side and bury two or maybe even three fingers into her pleading hole? Or perhaps she would take them off completely and give you an unconstructed glimpse of her cunt. You had been good afterall, Wanda hadn’t relayed any instances of bratty behavior to your knowledge, so she had every reason to reward you. Clearly she was not feeling generous, because the picture you were confronted with at seven o’six in the morning was of her naked chest, and just slightly off-screen you could make out the straps of her favorite lacy red bra. Her nipples were pebbled, undoubtable from the combination of her arousal and the broken thermostat in her suite, and they were a color that attempted to resemble a pinky-mauve. Her manicured fingers pinched at the left bud, but her right remained untouched and begging for the same attention. Her back was arched, leaning into the pain, and while you couldn’t see her shoulders, you could image the tanlines that graced her unblemished skin.

You | You’re not playing fair, Daddy

Natasha | I don’t have to play fair, malyshka. I suggest you start getting ready for class, and I would think twice about trying to touch yourself before I give you permission.

Your lips, already in a pout, had seemed to turn even more downward at her blatant disregard for your sanity. You’d just barely survived nine days without her touch and now, on the tenth, she decided to make that worse by teasing you? Even if she did decide to give you permission, nobody, including you, could make you cum the way she did. It would be foolish to even try and compete with her skills.

You | I can always skip

Natasha | I find out you skipped and you won’t be cumming until summer break

Your heart plummeted faster than a free falling elevator at the implication of spending the next four and a half weeks without an orgasm, especially because you knew that just because she wouldn’t push you over the edge, didn’t mean she wouldn’t tease you and work you up to that point. She would make your life an absolute living hell if you gave her the chance, and that was not a fire you wanted to play with, not now and not ever.

You | I’m going!

Natasha | That’s what I thought. Good girl.

Begrudgingly you pulled yourself out of bed and shuffled over to your duffle bag of clothes in the corner of the room. Ever since the night of the sixth day, when you’d crashed into Wanda’s arms and ratted out your professor, you’d been sleeping at the Maximoff residence. The Sokovian lawyer didn’t seem to be minding your presence, or at least, she hadn’t told you that she minded, but you still tried your best to tiptoe around her. She was always up before you, always in the kitchen when you ventured down the stairs in an outfit that was progressively getting shorter and shorter as the weather warmed. She had breakfast waiting for you most days, and if she didn’t, there was a note on the countertops that said she was already at the office and hadn’t wanted you to eat cold food. She didn’t need to know that on those days, you didn’t have any breakfast at all. On the morning of the eighth, she learned that you hate oatmeal. You’d tried your best to eat it all, or at least an amount that would appease her, but after you gagged for the third time, she pulled the bowl away from your face and scolded you for not saying something the second she put it down in front of you. It was weird. Neither one of you really sought the other out, but when you did cross paths, the atmosphere wasn’t as cold and dark.

It wasn’t as warm as it had been in recent days, so you took full advantage of the wind and the gloomy skies to wiggle your body into a pair of black leggings and one of Natasha’s hoodies that had been left laying around. You adored the start of spring and the mid-summer warmth, but you detested the fact that when those days came, you wouldn’t get to wear the womens clothes as frequently. You supposed you could always steal some of her t-shirts, but there hadn’t been much opportunity to do so yet.

Wanda was in the kitchen that morning, much to your delight. She wasn’t Natasha, you don’t know if she’ll ever mean as much to you as Natasha does, but you liked the simple fact that the house felt lived in when she was around. Her presence served as a distraction from the icky wetness collecting in your panties, and yes, you had changed them only minutes ago, but nothing could stop the floodgates until Natasha allowed you even the slightest fraction of relief.

“Your wife is mean.” You didn’t bother with pleasantries, didn’t even bother to look her in the eye as you walked your way to her fridge and pulled out the pitcher of orange juice. It had become sort of a routine. Wanda made breakfast for the both of you and you got the drinks. You liked having little responsibilities, because even if you knew that you were more than welcome here, you felt the need to earn your keep.

“My wife, huh? Thought she was your Daddy.” Wanda snorted, but the clench in her jaw was enough of an indication that she had received the same messages and wasn’t completely lost on the reason why you were pawning Natasha off so easily. You were annoyed to find that she was handling the teasing better than you. You were absolutely certain that your entire body was as jagged as a sharp rock, and petulantly, you hoped that Natasha stubbed her toe on the way to her next meeting.

“Nope. You can have her. She’s being a tease.” You huffed, bracing your hands on the edge of the counter before you scooted back into a comfortable position against the floating cabinets. Well, as comfortably as possible with the ache between your thighs that you were trying your absolute hardest not to mess with, even though it would be so easy to cross your legs and hope to god that it did something to relieve you. Wanda seemed to appreciate your restraint, because she sent you a soft smile in return and didn’t say anything about you sitting on her counters.

“Oh, I know.” Wanda puffed out a breath of air, the first indication that maybe she wasn’t handling the situation well, just better at hiding her frustration. “Little brat doesn’t know what to do with herself when she’s away for so long.”

You’d never heard Natasha be called anything of the sort, and the admission of her role in the bedroom had brought back your curiosity. Deciding that you couldn’t possibly get in trouble for being curious, you kicked your feet against the cabinets beneath your dangling legs and looked over at Wanda. “Can I ask you a question?”

“If you stop kicking my cabinets.” The lawyer looked at you in exasperation, entirely unimpressed with your fidgeting, though she wasn’t angry. You were thankful for that, because the combination of academic stress and sexual teasing had you restless in all fronts.

“Do you let Natty top you?” You smiled shyly once the words had passed your lips, hoping that it would soften the blow once Wanda processed your question. You weren’t sure if you had a close enough relationship with her to be asking such a thing, but over the last few weeks, you’d really started to wonder how they’d even come to the consensus of opening their relationship to a third party.

Wanda looked at you incredulously, but she shook her head anyway. “No. Why the question? You’re usually running in the opposite direction anytime we ask you something sexual.”

As if your body was trying to prove a point, your cheeks flushed scarlet and you dropped your gaze down to your lap, eliciting a chuckle out of Wanda. “I dunno. You don’t seem the type to submit, and Natty is being a brat. Guess I was just wondering about the contract. How you came up with it and all.”

“Have you talked to Nat about this? Seems you’ve got a lot on your mind.” Wanda hummed, her attention focused on the eggs she was scrambling, though you knew the real reason she was so focused was because she didn’t want to overwhelm you when you had finally gotten the courage to speak to her about this type of thing. She wasn’t wrong. Any other time she’d ever mentioned your sexual relationship with her wife you ran in the other direction, or you retorted with something rude just to get her off your back. She wasn’t as blind to that last detail as you thought she was.

“Not a lot.” You protested immediately, not wanting it to come across like you were rethinking this situation. “Her ring was… very visible in the second picture she sent. You’re married. Very happily from what I’ve seen. If anyone else that I know were in this situation, they’d think I was a homewrecker or something.”

“Is that how you feel?” Wanda frowned, her attention still on the eggs she was scrambling, but she was quickly running out of alternatives to focus on as they reached they perfect consistency.

“No! Nat’s too in love with you to ever do something that would upset you. If you weren’t okay with her… using me… then she would’ve ended things already.”

“Honey, we both know Natasha is not using you. That woman is just as devoted to you as she is to me, but you’re right, she wouldn’t jeopardize our marriage. The contract was my idea. You were my idea. Natasha would be more than happy to submit to me for the rest of our lives if I wasn’t okay with this, but I know that she needs the control as much as I do. We make sacrifices for our partners every day. A marriage is not a one way street.” Wanda smiled softly, nudging your thigh when she realized you were sitting right in front of the cabinet she kept the plates on.

“Why are you okay with me then?” You frowned, having even more questions now then you originally did. Wanda had said that Natasha was devoted to you in the same way she is with Wanda. Does that mean she feels the same as you do? Are your feelings not as unrequited as you’d been forcing yourself to believe?

“You make her happy.” There was something more on the tip of her tongue, something heavy and potentially earth-shattering, but you didn’t press her to share. She was already sharing more than enough with you, and you appreciated her honesty even if it was filtered. “Anymore questions from the peanut gallery, or can we eat our breakfast before you’re late to class?”

“No more questions.” You hopped off the counter, grinning cheekily when you saw Wanda wince out of your peripheral vision. “Would you tell her if I skipped class?”

“Are you sick?” Wanda quirked a single eyebrow in your direction, her hands full of plates as she carried eggs and pancakes toward the dining room table. You grabbed the pitcher of juice and two glasses, following her like a lost duckling despite knowing your way around.

“Does horny count as sick?” You asked, only receiving a huff of laughter and a firm shake of the head as a response.

If you thought your morning had been difficult to handle, your afternoon was even worse. You shifted uncomfortably at your desk, trying to get your cold and sticky panties away from your sensitive core, while simultaneously listening to your professor drone on and on about sentence translations and truth tables. Everytime you moved, you achieved the exact opposite of what you wanted. Your panties were so wet they clung to your pussy, and with each shift of hips and press of your thighs, a pulse of pleasure shot up through your belly and only worsened your situation.

Typically, you sat in the very front row in all of your lectures. You were what others would call a teacher's pet, always raising your hand and answering questions, always assuring that you understood the objectives of an assignment, but today, you had chosen a desk in the back row closest to the wall. Your laptop was turned away from the student on your right, and although your notes were opened, and words had been added to the document that you’d started at the beginning of the semester, your iMessages were open just beside it.

Natasha | Daddy wants your mouth, princess. You’d be good and give me your mouth wouldn’t you? I know how much you love to be on your knees for me

Natasha | video attached

You knew you shouldn’t open it, not when it was so clearly a video of her masturbating if the preview shot was any indication of its content. You knew you should just turn all of your devices on Do Not Disturb and focus on the professor, who was going over questions about the latest chapter assigned as homework, but all logical thoughts, ironic because you were currently in your advanced logics lecture, had completely fallen away from you. It had been eleven hours of teasing. Eleven hours of wet panties and sensitive nipples and Natasha’s pussy in your face but not actually. It had been eleven full hours of pure torture, and you were at your breaking point.

You closed your laptop softly, making the humbling decision to shuffle past all the other students in your row to excuse yourself to the bathroom. You’re sure it looked like you were having some kind of female emergency with how fast you were moving, but in a way, you were. Only, it wasn’t a result of a miscalculated period, but rather an evil dominant who had worked you up so horridly that you were willing to sacrifice your academics just to beg her for release.

The private bathroom was located in the basement, you had to shuffle down three flights of stairs just to reach it, but you would die before you got caught sexting in the bathroom on the same floor as your lecture, so you hurried down to the basement and hoped that it was free. At least some higher power was looking out for you, because you found that the light was off and when you knocked on the door, nobody had answered. You squirmed your way inside, locking the door before you pulled open your messages and played the video.

It was short, only ten seconds, but in that ten seconds you had seen the beginning of a beautiful orgasm. Natasha’s fingers hammered into her pussy, the palm of her hand making contact with her clit every time she pushed three of her fingers back into herself. Her arousal coated the digits in thick strings, and when she’d cum, when she pushed herself over the edge, you groaned aloud at not only the moan that tumbled past her lips, but the sight of her orgasm spilling around her fingers. You had seen Natasha squirt on a handful of occasions. Usually it happened when she had you eating her out time and time again. You wondered how long she’d been laid in bed for to have reached such a high, and briefly you wondered if Wanda had anything to do with it. There was not a doubt in your mind that Wanda was just as much a tease as Natasha, and the prospect of the most powerful women you know going back and forth so desperately caused another violent pang of pleasure to shoot through your core.

You pushed your pants down, letting them scrunch together at your ankles, not caring about how they brushed against the bathroom floor. You were too desperate to mind the germs, but they would be going in the garbage the second you got back to the Maximoff residence. For now, they’d just have to be fine.

You widened your stance just enough to get your camera between your thighs. The baby blue panties that you wore were absolutely drenched, beyond the state of Natasha’s if that were even possible. Every inch of your intimacy was a visible outline from how they pressed against you, and while you should’ve been embarrassed, you hadn’t even been touched and you were the wettest you’ve probably ever been, you didn’t care.

You | image attached

You | Look what you did, Daddy.

Natasha | Oh, I bet that feels so icky, baby

You | Please let me touch myself

Natasha | My dirty little slut wants to touch herself in a public bathroom? She can’t even wait until she gets home?

You | I’ve been waiting all day! Please Daddy, it aches!

You | image attached

You should’ve felt shame. You should’ve been disgusted with your desperation, but there wasn’t even an ounce of care left in you as you pulled your panties to the side. Two of your fingers swept through your folds, collecting arousal on the tips of your fingers. They glistened in the light, and much like Natasha’s arousal had done in the video she sent, strings of your need attached your dripping cunt to your digits. You hadn’t touched yourself, not technically at least. Your clit throbbed in protest when you narrowly avoided it, and it took all of your self restraint not to throw caution to the wind and give yourself the slightest bit of relief. You would much rather appease Natasha though, and so you hadn’t even made the briefest moment of contact.

Natasha | Oh that does look like quite the sticky situation, baby. Why don’t you be a good girl for Daddy and suck those fingers clean

You moaned at her words, even if they were just white letters on your phone screen. You could practically hear her voice in your head, requesting you to taste yourself for her, asking you to be good. You complied without hesitance, bringing your fingers up to your mouth, your tongue out and waiting for the treat even if you would much rather it be her you're tasting. Before you let them lay heavy on your tongue, you took a picture and sent it to her, because if you were going to be vulgar in your college bathroom, it needed to be for something. You tasted how you always do, but you forced yourself to imagine it was her lips you were tasting and not your own fingers. She loved making out after she had gone down on you, and secretly, so did you.

Natasha | Good girl.

Natasha | Those fingers all nice and clean?

You | Yes, Daddy

Natasha | Good. Pull your panties back up and wash your hands, baby. You’ve still got thirty minutes left of class.

Your jaw practically hit the floor at her response, and you whined in defeat, not wanting to listen to her. You’d been so good for her all day and she was still making you wait? What could she possibly do from across the ocean anyways? Briefly, you’d forgotten about her promise of withholding orgasms until summer break, but when that threat came back to mind, you quickly did as asked, hating that now you were even more uncomfortable. This was supposed to help, not make everything worse.

You | I want to play, Daddy!

Natasha | You’ve been good all day baby, don’t ruin it now. Panties up, hands washed. I want you back in class in the next three minutes if I’m even going to consider letting you edge yourself tonight

Natasha | Or maybe you would like a ruined orgasm more

You | No! Please no Daddy!

Natasha | Then you’ll go back to class and you won’t sneak away again.

The forty minute drive back to Westview felt like hours. By the time that you eventually pulled into the driveway and parked behind Natasha’s car, the days sunlight only lingering behind storm clouds now, your leggings were damp and clinging to your core just as uncomfortably as your panties had been for the last few hours. You were absolutely certain that if there weren’t two material barriers between your legs, that your car seats would be stained with evidence of your arousal. You’d have had a hard time explaining that the next time you got the vehicle detailed, but if that had been the case, you would’ve just burnt the entire car to avoid the looks of judgment you were sure to have received.

The front door was unlocked when you entered, an indication that Wanda had only arrived home a couple minutes before you had. Ever since your appearance on the fifth day of Natasha’s absence, she’d started leaving the door unlocked for you, not wanting another repeat of you stuck outside. You knew it made her feel vulnerable, and at one point you had tried to tell that while you appreciated the thought, she could continue to lock the door after she got in. Wanda didn’t budge on the matter, not that you were surprised, and so you just had to accept the fact that the front door would remain open for anyone to pass through until you got inside to lock the house up tight. It amazed you how Natasha’s presence could mean so much. The woman could hold her own in a fight, you didn’t doubt that, but you hadn’t realized just how much Wanda put her safety into her hands. It only further solidified the already known fact that they were perfect for each other.

Wanda was in the kitchen, already working on dinner, when you dropped your backpack on the floor and inched your way closer to her. The desperate ache between your legs was unbearable now, and every step reminded you of your unfulfilled desire. Wanda looked perfectly put together as she stood by the stove, stirring something in a pot that you hoped was sauce for her spaghetti. Even though you couldn’t see her face from where she was standing, it was clear in her posture that she was fairing well with Natasha’s teasing. You wondered if she had taken her pleasure into her own hands at some point during the day, or if she was once again just better than you at concealing her true feelings.

“I take it back.” You muttered weakly, stealing the glass of water that the redhead had been just about to reach for. It was cold, probably fresh from the filter in the fridge, and you gulped it down greedily. “Your wife is the scary one.”

Wanda laughed although you found nothing funny about this situation. “What did she threaten you with?”

“Which time!” You threw your hands out in exasperation, careful to keep hold of the now empty glass so it didn’t smash into a million tiny shards on the floor if you were to lose your grip on it. “Because at first it was no orgasms until summer break! Then it was edging! And then it was ruined orgasms! I did exactly what she asked, and she’s still being all scary and mean! She sent me a video of her cumming while I was in class!”

“Did she now?” Wanda quirked a single brow in your direction, and you knew that you had gotten your dominant in trouble simply from the way her jaw clenched at the relay of information. In the months that you’ve been in this situation with Natasha, you learned that Wanda was serious about education, a real stickler even. She always droned on and on about the importance of paying attention and taking adequate notes, you should’ve known that she wouldn’t appreciate knowing her wife had distracted you with a video of her pleasure.

“Um, no?” You tried to backtrack, tried to save Natasha’s ass even though she had done nothing in your favor since you’d woken up that morning. Your cheeks flushed as you avoided her eye, suddenly finding the floor much more interesting than her stare.

“Wanna try that again?” Wanda hummed, but you knew it wasn’t really a choice. You’re pretty sure that you audibly gulped as you contemplated your options, ultimately deciding that if anybody's ass had to be on the line, you would rather it be Natashas.

“She did.” You whispered. “But she made me go back to class! That’s when she threatened to make me edge myself or ruin my orgasm.” You added, your cheeks burning a fierce shade of red as you avoided Wanda’s eye. Both women found it cute how flushed you still got whenever anything even remotely kinky was discussed. Despite her annoyance, this moment was no exception.

Wanda hummed thoughtfully, nodding her head as if Natasha’s threat satisfied her. “Good. You shouldn’t have left class at all. I’d be making you spank yourself.”

“I– Do you– Do you make Natasha spank herself?” You spluttered over your words, hardly even able to imagine the redhead on the receiving end of a spanking.

“No. Your Daddy enjoys that far too much.” Wanda laughed, almost as if she found your curiosity insulting to Natasha. You knew she had a pain kink, that was very much obvious when she asked you to pinch her nipples harder on the rare occasion that she made you ride her strap, but you couldn’t imagine enjoying a spanking that was intended to be a punishment. “You on the other hand, start running away from her hand by the fifth spank. You wouldn’t last three if I told you to do it yourself.”

Despite your mortification at Wanda’s admission, a pang of arousal shot through your core at the thought of receiving a spanking, especially from her. You were quick to scrub that fantasy from your brain, not even wanting to entertain it. Even if you had moved past your hatred for her, you refused to admit that she was slowly growing on you. That was just too much to accept right now.

“Stop!” You whined, hunching over the counter and attempting to hide your face against the cold counter. Your cheeks had had a permanent flush to them all day, no thanks to Natasha, but you were certain that they were fire engine red now. Even the tips of your ears carried a warmth that wouldn’t vanish until you found some relief, but Natasha had been radio silent since sending you back to class, and you almost wondered if she would even reappear again before she turned in for the night. You would kill her if she left you high and dry like this.

A shriek of surprise left your lips at the sharp sensation that spread through your left ass cheek when Wanda’s palm collided with it over the thin fabric of your leggings. You’d only barely managed to contain your moan, but there’s no way she’d missed the way your knees threatened to buckle beneath you. Your back straightened instinctively and your head whipped around to find her, only to groan at the smirk of satisfaction on her lips at the sight of you. Your bottom lip was caught between your teeth, your eyes were dilated and almost entirely black, and your thighs, oh your thighs were the most telling. You pinched them together desperately, attempting to find any semblance of release.

“What was that for?” You whined, your hand shooting back to rub at the spot that was beginning to ache. You wouldn’t be surprised if her handprint lingered on your skin well into the early hours of tomorrow morning. Your voice is painfully high pitched and needy despite your best efforts to keep your composure, and it merely makes Wanda laugh about the effect a simple spank has on you.

“Who said I needed a reason?” Wanda shrugged her shoulders, but there was something wicked in her eyes. “You’ve had plenty of questions for me today, who says I don’t have my own?”

“You could’ve just asked!” You stomped your foot, officially at your breaking point with their combined teasing. Your eyes glimmered with unbridled tears, and your core throbbed needily, but neither of them seemed too concerned with your desperation, not enough to stop at least. “I’m going to change.” You pouted, stomping past Wanda, abandoning your backpack to be dealt with later.

Hours later, you found yourself laid in bed, your eyes wide in disbelief as you laid on your back and tried your hardest to keep your hands still at your sides. You and Wanda had eaten dinner in near silence, but the spaghetti was good, and you’d helped with the dishes afterward. Neither of you were feeling rather talkative, and that could be chalked up with the fact that Natasha had started her shit again. She poked at Wanda first, and you were thankful for the break of being her center of attention. The lawyer's phone had buzzed from where it was kept in her backpocket during meals if she was wearing jeans. Both of you knew who it was, and Wanda had reached for her phone without a moment of hesitation. It seemed that the both of you were properly whipped for the Russian, because had that text been from anyone else Wanda would’ve ignored it until dinner was over and conversations were finished. It had taken her only a matter of seconds to get into her phone, and you knew it must’ve been sexual based on the way her cheeks flushed and she furiously typed back a response. You were curious about what Natasha had sent her, curious about if you were receiving the same messages throughout the day, but you didn’t have to wait for much longer because your phone pinged next, and Wanda shot you a low warning beneath her breath.

That had been two hours ago, and since then, Natasha had disappeared, leaving you with only strict orders not to touch yourself and the lingering promise of getting your reward soon. You were naked in the guest bed, dripping onto the sheets beneath your body, writhing in anticipation. The house had been silent since both you and Wanda finished dinner, but now the house was filled with her moans. Her moans. Wanda's moans. You’ve seen her and Natasha makeout before. You’ve heard her shakily exhale, groan aloud, you’ve even heard her curse out profanities in Russian when Natasha did something particularly seductive, but you’ve never heard her moan. That felt too intimate, too wrong, but now that you were hearing them you couldn’t deny how sweet they sounded. Was she fingering herself? Was she using a vibrator or fucking a dildo so deep into her pussy that she could feel every groove and crevice against her walls? Were the sheets wet with arousal beneath her body like they were yours, or could she somehow manage to avoid leaking like a waterfall at just a whisper of praise from Natasha? The list of endless possibilities that could be occurring in the room next to yours were driving you mad, and the longer you were forced to listen to her chase her release, only amplified the cravings for your own pleasure.

You blindly reached out for your phone, squinting when it initially blinded you before your eyes adjusted to the light. You opened Natasha’s contact quickly,ready to plead and beg and cry for her to give in.

You | I can hear Wanda

You | Please Daddy, can I touch myself? I’ve been so good, please

Natasha | Aw, is hearing Wanda moan turning you on, princess?

You | Yes! Please Daddy! I want to cum, please!

You almost sobbed in relief when your screen flashed with Natasha’s contact picture, and you didn’t hesitate to raise the phone to your ear after you had swiped to accept the call. Her gravely voice was soft, too soft, soft enough to suggest that she knew damn well how frustrated and desperate you were for her, and that she was simultaneously aware of how it was all her fault. You thought for a second that she felt bad for being so cruel, but there was a lingering trace of smugness in her voice that completely went against your first assumption.

“Hi, baby.” She greeted you sweetly. You noticed that the wind was blowing past her as she spoke to you. You wondered if she was on the beach, surrounded by strangers and business partners, or if she was simply out on the balcony attached to her suite. Wherever she was, you wished that you were with her.

“Daddy!” You sobbed, both because you had missed her voice in the last three days, and because knowing you finally had her undivided attention had worsened the moisture collecting between your legs. “Please Daddy!”

“What do you want, baby? Use your words for Daddy.” Natasha cooed, and you fisted the sheets at your sides in frustration, writhing on the bed.

The words tumbled past your lips without care for how you sounded. You knew Wanda could hear you from the master bedroom, but you had not a single care for your dignity as you pleaded with your dominant to let you cum. “Please! Please can I touch myself! Please!”

“You wanna touch yourself, dorogay?” Natasha hummed, and although she couldn’t see you, you violently nodded your head in affirmation. Your babbled pleads were enough of an answer, because seconds later she was directing you to pinch your nipples for her. Despite not being the stimulation you desperately needed, you would take it, and you rolled your pebbled buds between your pointer finger and thumb needily. “Good girl, milaya. You sound so pretty for Daddy. I bet that sweet pussy is just begging for attention, isn’t it? Are you all wet, precious?”

“Yes! Yes! Daddy please! I’m so wet! I can’t– I need– Daddy please don’t tease! Don’t tease!” You sobbed out, your back arching off the bed as you continued to alternate between your nipples and pinch and twist them at the pace you know Natasha would’ve set if she was here to do it herself.

“Shh, shh, you’re okay. Daddy teased you all day, didn’t she?” Natasha’s voice was thick with faux pity, and her tone only worked against you as you clambered to draw in a decent breath of air whilst also focusing on her instructions.

“Yes! Yes! Please! Please! Daddy, I can’t–, I can’t–, please!”

“Okay baby, okay. You’re being such a good girl for me, detka. Touch your pussy baby. Not your clit, not yet. Just use your fingers, how many do you want, sweet girl? Do you want two? Two fingers in that pretty pussy?” Natasha gently guided you through the motions, and you cried out in relief when you felt the stretch of your fingers. Your pussy was gushing, crying for attention, but finally you were allowed to grant the wish it had been begging for all day. There was no slowing your pace. The second your fingers had dipped between your thighs, your pace was punishing, and though you still held the phone up to your ear with the hand that wasn’t between your legs, you were sure Natasha could hear the wet sounds that filled the air around you. “Does that feel good, baby? Use your words and tell Daddy how it feels.”

“G-Good.” You cried out, but even with your fingers working the soft spot within your walls, it wasn’t enough. Your release was just out of reach and the only thing that could send you over the edge was her explicit permission to touch your clit, to finally give the pulsating nerve some love and attention. “D-Daddy please! My clit! M-My clit! Please please please!” Your mindless babbling seemed to have broken her tough reserve, and gently Natasha cooed her approval.

“Touch your clit for me, baby. You don’t have to ask, you just cum when you want to. You were such a good girl today. Daddy didn’t think you could make it all day, you made me so proud, angel. So so proud. Make yourself cum, cum on your fingers for Daddy.” Natasha didn’t need to see your face to know that you were growing closer and closer to the edge, she could hear it in your moans as they spilled from your lips and down the phone line. “Yeah? You’re getting so close aren’t you, getting so close for Daddy. Cum for me, milaya. Cum for Daddy.”

“Fuck fuck fuck! Daddy!” You cried, your back arching off the bed as you finally let the coil snap in your belly. Wanda’s moans of pleasure had increased within the same second, and your cheeks flushed realizing that Natasha’s plan all along had been to get the two of you to orgasm in tandem. “Thank you.” You croaked when you finally came down from you high, your body positively spent and your throat sore.

“You did so good for me, malyshka.” You can hear the smile in her tone, and you melt into the blankets and sheets beneath you as you accept the weight of her words. “You sleepy, baby? You’ve had a long day.”

“Yeah.” You whispered, hating the fact that you wouldn’t last another handful of minutes before you fell asleep on her. “Go get cleaned up, please. Daddy will be home soon, I can’t wait to see my good girl.”

“I miss you.” You sighed softly, already starting to pull your body out of bed. You didn’t want to move, but you’d been so good all day, you wanted to make her proud down to the very last second.

“I miss you too, angel. Wanda’s told me how good you’re being. Daddy has a surprise for you when she gets home.” Natasha promises, and had you been any more awake then you are now, you would’ve begged her to know what she had, but you merely hummed and went through the motions of brushing your teeth, going to the bathroom, and cleaning up your thighs.

The sheets were the least of your concern, and you collapsed into the center of the bed, not even bothering with clothes as you snuggled into the blankets and let your eyes flutter closed, falling asleep in seconds with Natasha still on the line.

#wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #dom!natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff fluff #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #dom!wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff fluff #wandanat #wandanat x reader #dom!wandanat x reader #wandanat smut #wandanat fluff #series: you are in love #minors dni ৎ୭

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purplesuitcowboy · 24 days

Text

tw: rape and incest

During college, Abigail had gotten into pilates. All of the girls on her hall did it together every Saturday. They all get dressed in their work out gear, line up their brightly colored yoga mats on the campus green and run through the sequences of movements together as a group. If she needed help, she could always count on one of the other girls to help her stretch or show her the proper form for a movement. It was a nice atmosphere and Abigail found herself looking forward to it every week.

Coming home for summer break, Abigail promised herself that she would keep up her pilates practice at home so she wouldn't be out of practice when the school year started back up in the fall. By herself, she sat up her yoga mat in the back yard and began to run through the movements. Downward facing dog.. breathe..stretch and then gently shift into plank...breathe..stretch. She was so busy running through the movements that she didn't notice her dad who was watching her from the back porch. She was laying down with her back on the mat and her legs open, spread out like she was doing the splits.

"What are you doing over there, babydoll?" He asked her, leering at her young nubile body from his perch on the porch. Those leggings on her where absolutely sinfully, clinging to her round ass and full hips. From his vantage point, he could just see the outline of her puffy pussy lips through the thin material of her leggings. It didn't seem like she was wearing any panties under her leggings. Truly, it was blessing that his wife and son where out leaving him alone with his daughter.

"Just pilates, daddy. Actually, can you come down here and help me stretch?"

"Sure," he told her, walking over to join her. "Just tell me what you want me to do." He'd thought about adjusting his hard on so that she wouldn't see it but decided against it. She was a big girl. She could handle knowing what her body did to her daddy. It might even help her, maybe, convince her to be more thoughtful about what she wore around me.

"Press my legs down."

He settled between her open legs, and placed his hands on her thighs pushing down on them like he was trying to drive them into the ground.

"That feels great. Thank you," she took a deep breath, and tried to relax into the stretch.

"You're real flexible now aren't you, baby?" He told her appreciatively. He was loosing focus on the goal of the activity, running his hands down her legs. He hadn't been this hard in years. She just giggled and waved him off while she adjusted her legs, bringing them together and then pulling them towards her like she was trying to kiss her knees. When she was settled, he resumed trying to help her stretch. With his hands place on the backs of her calves, he pushed her legs towards her. In their new position, Abigail could easily feel her dads hard cock pushing against her cunt. Experimentally, he rolled his hips against her, rocking his cock against her. The head of his cock brushed against her clit, forcing a reluctant gasp out of Abigail's lips.

"Daddy, this is wrong." She told him, trying to push him off of her. He grabbed her wrists, and pinned them above her head with one of his hands so she couldn't stop him. Her legs fell on either side of him as he positioned himself between her legs. She bucked again trying to get him off of her but he was too heavy. He adjusted his hold on her, one hand holding her wrists, and on tightly gripping her hip as he continued to rut into her. Her pussy gushed liquid, soaking into and darkening the crotch of her leggings.

"We're outside what if the neighbors see," she tried again, changing tactics.

"I don't care who sees now either we can do this the easy way or the hard way, either way I'm getting me some of this," he punctuated his statement by groping one of her ass cheeks. "Now take of these leggings or I'll take them off you myself."

Abigail worriedly chewed on her lip as she looked around at the surrounding houses. All someone would have to do was look out of their window to see the two of them. She was filled with fear but also the thrill of doing something risky, the anticipation that anything could happen. Hesitantly, she rolled the bottom of the leggings off of her ass, and down her legs. Carelessly, her father pulled them off of her legs and deposited them on the ground beside her. Releasing her wrists, he pushed her legs open, revealing her little pink pussy.

"That's a good girl. God, you've got a pretty pussy," he told her.

"Don't say that, you're making me feel weird," Abigail replied, covering her eyes with her hands so she wouldn't have to see. Despite her horror, she found herself peaking at him from between her fingers.

He dipped his head between her legs, caressing her folds with his tongue. He alternated between licking up and down her slit, and gently sucking on her clit. All the while, Abigail moaned and whimpered behind her fingers. "Delicious." As he licked and sucked, he worked a thick finger into a tight cunt, pumping it in and out, and then he added another. Abigail's moans increased in volume as he fucked her with his fingers. Her mind was reeling, she'd masturbated before but it never felt this good.

Eventually, the pleasure won out and she gave up on hiding behind her fingers, resting her hands on her fathers head as she grinded her cunt onto his fingers and tongue. It just felt so good. She wanted more, she wanted him deeper. It just wasn't enough.

"Fuck, baby. You got me all worked up," her father told her as he pushed himself off of her, his hands rushing to his belt so he could pull out his fat cock. She gasped at the sight of it, trying to wriggle away from him. He clambered over her and positioned the head of his dick against her tight hole.

"Wait, daddy. Don't," she begged, breathlessly. His mouth and fingers had felt amazing but surely, this was a step too far.

"No, can do buttercup," he told her. "I want this cunt now and you are not gonna stop me. God couldn't stop me from fucking this sweet pussy." In one fluid motion, he thrust his full length into her tight cunt. Abigail squealed and her eyes teared up as she was suddenly stretched and filled completely by her fathers big dick. Showing great foresight, he covered her mouth with his hand, dampening the sound of her cries.

"Shh, baby, you don't want the neighbors to see, right?" he told her, as he began to rock his cock in and out of her tight channel. As he found his rhythm, Abigail's squeals of pain became moans of pleasure. Satisfied that she wouldn't scream, he removed his hand from her mouth and pushed up her sports bra, freeing her tits from the confines of her tight top. They bounced in time with her father's thrusts.

"You feel so good, baby. Your little pussy feels so good on your daddy's fat cock."

Abigail slid her hand between her legs and rubbed her clit as her father fucked her. With the additional sensation, she quickly brought herself to orgasm, writhing on her father's cock as she came. Her cunt squeezed him like a vice, pushing her father to his own orgasm. He shot his thick load into her cunt, filling her up with his cream. He pulled out of her with a grunt, and rolled over, laying next to her with his back on the grass. He checked his watch. They wouldn't be back home for another couple of hours, that was totally enough time for another round or two.

#cnc fr33use #cnc k!nk #1cky daddy #daddy k!nk #rap3 fantasy #rough cnc #rough kink #1cky thoughts #abuse k1nk #fauxc3st #fauxcest #fr33use

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rinhaler · 6 months

Text

You Deserve Roses and You Know This

✧˖*°࿐ : 18+ only, no minors. ✧. ┊ ex!Toji Fushiguro x f!reader

Genre: Smut & Angst Notes: reposting from my old account! Warnings: 18+, dubcon, vaginal sex, fingering, oral (f receiving), nipple play, dacryphilia, pregnancy, abortion ideation, miscarriage, depression, adultery, breeding, creampie ♡, smoking mention. Words: 4.1k

“Is it true? Did talking to Megumi make you cry today?” Toji asks you, peeling down your bra strap before sensually decorating your exposed shoulder in delicate kisses.

He didn’t notice, but as soon as the question left his tongue you had instinctively become dead behind the eyes. It was true. You’re an adult, and yet you were brought to tears by his seven-year-old son. It wasn’t that he said anything callous, quite the opposite, really. Earlier that day, Megumi had been sitting playing in your front room. You were babysitting, as you often did, while Toji and his wife were working. Your eyes hold shut as you remember his wife; his beautiful and kind wife while he continues littering your skin in adoration. You shouldn’t be doing this, but you can’t stop now.

Green sparkling eyes looked up from innocent children’s toys to pose you a question – “Why do you hate me?” he asked, genuinely. It was like a knife through your chest. You didn’t hate him. You could never hate him, Toji being partly responsible for his existence is enough reason to adore him with everything you have.

You just wish he was yours.

Toji is patient when he gets his time with you. It’s rare, after all, and he wants to make the most of it. Two large palms settle on your breasts, the straps are down but your bra is still firmly in place. He massages your flesh over the material, lips traversing the expanse of your body until he reaches your pulse point. He licks, slowly, hot eager breath contrasting your own temperature and making you shudder. This, he notices, pulling your back even closer into his chest. His left hand slowly yet forcefully moves up and down your adjacent arm, desperate to dispel the goosebumps that have formed on your skin. He suckles and licks on your ear lobe before nibbling it softly between his teeth. His breathing changes, his mouth level with your ear, he’s going to speak.

“Baby… what were you talking about?” he sighs, an even more chill inducing breath warms the shell of your ear. He pecks against it, the sound of tactile lips puckering slithers directly through your ear canal. You moan, unintentionally, and back further into your temporary lover. He holds your breasts once more; stabilising you, if only a little, as you begin to grind your core against his crotch.

“I- I can’t, Toji—”

Your attention is fixated on him as his hand encases half of your face and turns you to face him. But you both find yourselves closing your eyes as he places a kiss against your lips. It’s slow, yet heated, and you feel him smile into you when he hears you moan into his mouth pathetically. You’re well and truly at his mercy, though you aren’t embarrassed. How else should one act and behave around the love of their life?

“You can and you will,” he explains, biting your lip as he parts from the kiss. A singular string of saliva keeps you connected for a second before snapping. “you can’t have secrets with my son darlin’, you just can’t. So tell me, what were you talkin’ to him about?”

You gulp, nerves overcoming you like never before. Your eyes flutter shut yet again as he diverts his attention from your eyes to your body. The skin behind your ear is the next subject of his eroticism. And yet, he has the gall to chastise you for enjoying it. With one more repetition of tell me you realise you can’t stall anymore. Out of options. And you can’t lie.

“R-Rocco, ah—!”

“How does Megumi know about Rocco?”

“I- I told… him…”

He hikes your leg up so that you’re sitting on his lap like a little girl. The kissing has stopped and the touches have halted. Toji isn’t patient except with you. He’s never looked as furious as he does now, with you. Brows scrunched and the glimmer in his eye you love so much has ceased to exist. His scar looks as raw as it did the day he got it. A non-existent armour made you believe he wouldn’t mind you talking to his son about such a sensitive subject matter, but apparently it is not to be discussed under any terms.

“Don’t you ever talk to my son about Rocco again. D’ya hear me? Never.” he forbids, his eyes seem to soften ever so slightly when he spots that you can’t prevent the way your lip begins to wobble. “If you really wanna talk about Rocco, talk to me. Yeah? No one else, just me.”

“Y-You don’t let me—” you start, your thought isn’t completed. Thoughts are rattled from your mind as he begins manoeuvring you so that your back is flat against the mattress, jade green eyes boring into your very soul as he hovers above you. His arms dip behind your back, finally unhooking your bra and baring your chest to him.

Beautiful, he thinks.

“I’m letting you now.” he explains, his head resting on your chest, looking up with intent behind his salacious stare. He latches onto one of your protruding nipples, taking it between his cracked lips. He sucks and pecks, and it’s almost lazy, but you know it’s with purpose. It’s driving you wild, you can’t help but wriggle helplessly beneath him, desperate to gain some relief on your eager heat.

He pins one of your legs down, stopping you from continuing your movements. It’s torture, you think, he’s expecting you to broach such a heavy subject matter while you’re so desperate for his touch.

“C’mon sweetheart… talk about Rocco,” he commands. You can’t. Tears stream down your face as you do your best to experience Toji whilst thinking back to the past. Your mind spins and you feel as if you can’t breathe. He releases your nipple with an accentuated pop as he smirks up at you. “I remember how scared you were to tell me… when you realised—”

“Fuck, Toji.” you croon, a mischievous finger slithered down your abdomen down the length of your clothed slit. Feather light touches against your clit and your entrance forced your hips to buck upwards carelessly. He snickered, repeating the action again and again. “I- I remember.” you stutter.

You’d only been dating for thirteen weeks. He was yours before his wife entered the fray, before you had to battle for his time and attention. Nerves got the better of you, the thought of admitting to yourself what you already knew made you nauseous beyond any description.

Your period was late.

It was something you didn’t want to acknowledge, let alone inform Toji of. It had been so little time since you began dating. You thought he’d leave you, run away and never look back. So, there was only one thing for it. An abortion. You couldn’t keep the baby if you wanted to keep him. It was your only option. You were stressed, manic, exhausted. But at least you’d have Toji – that was all you cared about.

“You were so scared to tell me, weren’t ya?” he asks, hooking a finger beneath your panties before settling it in your inner thigh crease. He plunges a finger inside of you, chuckling when more obscenities fly from your mouth as your head falls backwards into the plush pillows. One of your hand grips the sheets below, whilst your other almost tears his hair from the roots. So little attention, and yet such a big reaction from you. “Thought so little of me, baby, ‘m sorry.” he finishes, adding a second finger to your scorching heat. It's almost as if the air in your lungs has frozen, weighing you down. It’s preventing you from speaking. From breathing. Even thinking.

It was confirmed when you finally took the plunge and decided to do a pregnancy test. Big, black, bold text told you the answer and where your future was heading. Motherhood, for certain. But you knew you had to take care of it before Toji became suspicious. It was something you didn’t even want him to know you were going through. Everything with him was perfect, it wasn’t something you wanted to ruin over something you believed could be easily taken care of.

So… why were you crying every day?

That’s what he asked you. You hadn’t been yourself, and that is what gave you away. Jokes he told that you found funny didn’t seem so funny anymore. The way he traced his fingers up and down your arms made you defensive, and paranoid. You didn’t want him to touch you in case he somehow sensed it in his fingertips. If he felt you he might just know that you’re carrying his child and he’ll skip out on you.

It all came to a head one day after you finished throwing up. You couldn’t keep your cries silent. Your body was betraying you, you felt hurt in ways you never had before and it was becoming impossible to keep it all to yourself. You didn’t dare tell a soul for fear of Toji finding out through the grapevine. But enough was enough, he thought.

“You need to tell me what’s going on with you.” he told you, but you shook your head.

“I can’t Toji, please. Trust me, I can’t.” you explained, “It’s fine… I will ruin everything if I tell you so… so I’m… I’m taking care of it—”

“Cut that shit out right now. This has been going on a fuckin’ while and I can’t stand to see you like this,” he responded, moving his head as you moved yours. You were trying to avoid his piercing glare, but he wouldn’t let you. He couldn’t. He’d never of forgiven himself if you carried on like that, unable to share your woes, and did something you might regret. “Trust me, I’m beggin’ you to trust me, baby.”

He forced you to sit down, and face him. He wiped away your tears with his thumbs and kept all of his attention focused on you as he watched you calm yourself down. Tear filled breaths that clogged your lungs fizzled into shaky exhales the longer you held eye contact with Toji. He wasn’t going anywhere, for now. If you explain you can tell him your plans. Maybe he’d support you if he knew you planned on freeing you both of the burden of parenthood, you hoped.

“I… I’m, uh—”

“Yeah? C’mon sweetheart, doin’ so good f’me just use your words.” he spoke, doing his best to tempt the truth out of you. With one final swallow of terror and closing your eyes for a moment to think, you finally found the courage to confess.

“I’m pregnant,” you blurted out quickly. “but it’s okay I’m gonna get rid of it. Okay?” you fumbled out words quicker than you could think. You just wanted him to know that there was no way you’d be keeping the baby. He was what you needed, not a kid. “Please, I promise I’m going to get rid of it, this is why I didn’t want to tell you. D-Don’t leave me, p-please. You are more important to me than a baby, I just want you. I—”

Your rambling was stifled as Toji pressed a finger to your lips. He kissed you on your forehead, a warm smile filled his features. Instantly, you were relived. It meant that your idea of an abortion was enough to convince him to stand by you. There was no reason to worry yourself sick like that, he was going to support you through it all.

“You don’t have to get rid of our baby,” he smiled.

“W-What?”

“In fact, I don’t want you to do that at all.” he warmly spoke, pulling your body into his and forcing his head between the valley of your breasts. It wasn’t sexual, it was just a comfort to him to hear your heartbeat. “Maybe… we could start our own little family, huh?”

Tears roll down your eyes as you reminisce on it all whilst Toji adds his flat tongue to the equation of his fingers in your cunt. It’s all so romantic and wonderful and intense. You don’t think you’ve ever been happier than you were in that moment. The moment you knew he really would stand by you through anything at all. And despite your assumption, he was excited to become a father. He was excited to have a baby with you.

“I love you, Toji.” you speak, softly, unsure if it was even loud enough for him to hear. Oh, but he did. He doesn’t want to stop lapping at your swollen clit, knowing it’s exactly where you need the most attention right now. But a particularly harsh suckle and pop of the bead is a silent acknowledgement, he promises he heard you. “Gonna… gonna cum. T-Toji—”

“No no, baby, not yet,” he instructs. He removes his fingers from your hole, delicately rubbing them over your sensitive bundle of nerves instead. It’s slow and tormenting, but he doesn’t want you to cum like this. “I was so happy when we found out we were havin’ a little boy, y’know? So damn happy princess.”

You remember it well. Your emotions were running high and you had the ability to blame your hormones when you discovered the gender of your unborn child. But you couldn’t quite believe it when you looked over to see Toji’s eyes, eyes that are normally so strict and stern, glossy with tears on his lash line. He couldn’t help it, he claimed.

“Look what we made.” he pointed, the scan revealing perfectly what a handsome little boy you’d made together.

And later that day, he took you shopping. Money was no object. That is what you both decided. Neither of you could believe how much stuff you ended up buying. Paints for the nursery. A crib. Other necessary pieces of furniture. Toys. Clothes. Everything you thought you needed, you bought. You were both first time parents and completely clueless. So, if a shop assistant recommended it, you bought it.

You spent so much time together painting the walls of your baby’s new room. Toji was very irritable when you kept asking what to do and how to help. The paint wasn't going on as nicely as he hoped and his temper flared, it was extremely evident in his face. What do you do when you see an angry bear? Poke it with a stick. Or in this case, flick paint from the end of your brush at him. When he noticed what you had done and he turned to face you, you swear you could read murder on his mind. But when you began to laugh, he couldn’t help the laugh that snuck out of him.

There was more paint on the two of you than on the walls by the end of it.

“That was the day we decided to call him Rocco…” Toji mused.

He began to kiss up towards your naval and back to your neck. Your fingers laced through his hair as you begged for him to deliver the same salvation he was offering your body to your lips as well. He complied, slow patience had dwindled as your tongues found each other. It was wet, heated, sloppy. You felt yourself drooling out of the corners of your mouth, Toji Fushiguro is just so intoxicating. A drug you can’t quit though you know you should.

He’s all you have.

He doesn’t break the kiss from you, though his hand eventually meets his heavy, wanting cock. He guides it to your desperate entrance, lining it up perfectly before slotting himself inside. His hips roll, bullying his cock into you inch by agonising inch until your lip begins to quiver. He hushes you, though.

You both know you want it.

“I’m s-so – fuck – I’m so sorry, baby. I am so—”

“P-Please, pleaaaase stop.” you beg. He doesn’t. You are the one who wanted to talk about it. So desperate to talk about it that you went to a seven-year-old boy to discuss it. His son. “N-No more, I can’t—”

“It was the worst day of my life, too, I promise you that darlin’.” he mumbles in your ear. The thrum of his words rushes straight to your cunt, and you clench so hard around his cock you think he might have to stay there forever.

You don’t think you’ve ever been as embarrassed as you were when you came home from the hospital. Your pristine white maxi dress, stained in bright red blood by your crotch. The atmosphere in your house was foul. Two solemn adults who had lost everything in a few menial hours. Hollowness filled you, not a single emotion ran through you until you heard Toji a few rooms away. You sat on the sofa, turned on the TV and pretended it wasn’t happening. But you could hear Toji loud and clear.

He was in the nursery.

That was the first and only time you’ve ever heard him cry. A loud thud vibrated through you and you knew he had collapsed to the ground. Melancholy overtook him as his new reality was setting in. Your little boy was no more. No fault of your own, apparently, everyone made sure to repeat that enough times for it to really take root in the depths of your brain.

It didn’t help at all.

You couldn’t bring yourself to check on Toji. That would mean going into Rocco’s room and facing the truth yourself. So, you waited. You waited hours for him to finally come out. He came to see you, resting on the balls of his feet in front of the sofa where you sat. Fresh tears replaced old ones as he noticed the drying blood on your dress.

“H-How about a bath, huh?” he suggested.

You don’t remember saying yes, or nodding. But somehow, you found yourself naked and submerged in a bubble bath. It was like you had left your own body as he did his best to clean you. You could hear him sniffling. He was desperate to talk about it with you, all he wanted was for you to help each other cope. But you couldn’t. So, he did his best to lock it away too.

It was as if you had returned to yourself when Toji took a break from washing your hair to wipe more tears from his eyes. A soft mumbling of ‘Oh, Godddddd…’ trailed from his lips as he tried to pull himself together. And finally, your lip began to jut out helplessly. Your eyes scrunched, and the tears began to flow. You were staring at your bloody dress, and listening to him try and hold it together. It was all equating to too much.

It was real, now.

“Our… baby—” you cut yourself off with a wail, Toji pulled you into his hold and sobbed into your sodden locks.

He hissed with each thrust inside of your gummy walls. A perfect home for him in the form of your bodies fitting together like perfect puzzle pieces. He doesn’t feel like this with his wife, only you. He couldn’t stay away, he’d never be able to do that.

He loves you.

Fuck, he loves you.

“’m not good enough… I’ve never been—”

“Stop it, baby. You are enough, I promise.” he tells you through gritted teeth. It’s getting harder and harder to have a normal conversation while he is fucking you so intimately. Every ounce of his love poured into every devastating thrust.

He loves you.

“Wasn’t good enough for you, or our- our baby.”

“Stop it darlin’. Please stop. I- I need—”

“I can’t live like this-!” you cry out. His hand covers your mouth entirely as his mind tries to process what he needs to say to you. Christ. What does he need to say to you? Everything and nothing all at once. He thinks he should start with I love you. But is he prepared to open that can of worms?

“I need… you. I’m gonna leave her, yeah? My wife. Let’s… try again. Me and you, hah? I won’t pull out this time, let me… let me—”

“Tojiiiii—”

“You’re good enough, baby, more than good enough. I’ll cum inside and we can try again. I need to, I need to.”

Your tears stream endlessly but silently. Is this really what you want? Do you want him to break up his family to satiate your unfulfilled desires? It doesn’t matter. You find yourself nodding anyway. Perhaps it will dull the ache inside of you. It could be the plaster to cover to puncture wound in your aching heart; it’s been bleeding since that day.

Toes begin to curl as he continuously batters the spongy centre that spells your eventual undoing with his fat cock head. He isn’t doing much better. Nobody and nothing will compare to the rush and the high he feels as when your precious cunt swallows him again and again.

“Gonna- cum, with me. Please, baby. Cum with me now.” Toji pants.

Your lips are on his again, both of you focusing on your impending climaxes. The way you break away to moan momentarily before smothering each other in kisses yet again is such a lewd, romantic, high that you can’t get enough of. He pounds you perfectly and it’s an arrangement neither of you have been able to let go of after all of these years.

“Oh God, I’m cumming- cumming baby…” he alerts you. You’re practically choking on your own orgasm as it swims through you. Nails dig into his back as you try and hold onto the feeling for as long as you can. He fills you with his warmth, heaving like a desperate animal while he breeds you to the brim.

What have you done?

Time wasn’t a healer for either of you. The days got harder and harder and you couldn’t even stomach looking at him. Each time you looked at him, you saw what could have been. What should have been. The father of your son. The man who was going to teach him everything he knew and help your little boy cause all kinds of mischief for you.

The man you thought could keep you both safe.

That’s how he found himself married to a woman he would never love as much as he loved you. There was a drift, it was aggressive and painful, yet necessary. But you found yourself brought back together a few years after Megumi was born. You were practically an aunt to his son. A second mother, even. A sordid little secret.

You don’t hate Megumi, you just wish he was yours.

The pair of you got changed after he had his post fuck cigarette, knowing you couldn’t risk dallying for fear of being caught. You didn’t doubt for a minute that if you called him in a few weeks and told him you were carrying his child, he’d kidnap Megumi and run away with you to start your new family life together. And you would love that, you’d love him. You’d love it all.

But, it isn’t right. Is it?

He grabs his car keys, readying himself to drive you home to be alone with your dark thoughts. Before you step outside, though, something plagues your mind. A question that you simply must know the answer to. He looks scared, honestly. The way you’re facing him and eyeing him up as the same words twist and circle through your mind. A heavy hand rests on your waist, the other on your cheek. He’s scared, it’s obvious, but he’s still encouraging you to talk.

“Do you ever think about Rocco?” you ask him, genuinely curious. Toji has never felt the need to bring him up, this is the first you’ve discussed him in years. It kills you to think that Toji has managed to shut out thoughts of his unborn son while you are plagued with them each and every waking moment of your pointless life.

And there it is. That warm, kind smile, that is the Toji you know and love.

“All of the time.”

Four simple words have you breaking down like you did that day in the bathtub. Your head is pulled into his chest as he holds you close and tightly, allowing you to bawl every emotion onto him. You can’t control yourself and you don’t want to stop. It’s fine, he thinks. It’s clear that you need it. At least you know something today that you didn’t know yesterday. One piece of information that might take some of the burden off your own shoulders.

At least you know you aren’t alone.

this is a repost from my old account

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queenshelby · 1 year

Text

BUSINESS AS USUAL (PART ONE)

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Wife!Reader

Warning: Smut, Cheating,

Words: 1,000 (as will be most parts in this series)

You watched through the crack of the door which, clearly, she had left open on purpose as this was nothing but a game to her. She wanted you to see her, making love to your husband this way and you were curious to see whether it was true.

Was he really sleeping with her? A woman lacking both class and morals. A woman so vile that your stomach turned from the inside out.

You were disgusted and, remembering his lips on yours made you want to vomit.

“Gosh, Tommy. Seriously? Her? Why” was what you wondered as you stood there, silently, watching as he leaned forward and then, slowly, their lips met, gently, softly at first and then with more passion.

Tommy’s left hand moved up to fondle her breasts and she moaned softly into his mouth.

Eventually though, they parted and Laura looked into his eyes.

“I need you to fuck me, right here” she told him as his hand moved up from her breasts and started to unbutton her shirt.

“This is my wife’s office Love” Tommy told her reluctantly as she put her hand on his.

“Yes, I know. It turns me on. She has nice taste for interior design and I want you to fuck me on her immaculate cedar desk” she said. Her voice was forceful and she walked imperiously to your desk and, provokably, sat on the edge of it.

Your heart immediately sank, thinking that, surely, he would not be fucking her inside your very own office. This was your private space and you felt as though they had no right to utilise it in such a derogatory manner.

But, clearly you were wrong as, within seconds, you watched as your husband placed his hands on her thighs.

“As you wish Love” he told her and she slowly moved her hands up and began unbuttoning her shirt. The material drifted apart revealing her lacy bra and you gasped as your husband watched her in complete rapture. She stood up and undid her skirt which slipped to the floor. Then, she sat on the edge of the desk again and grabbed hold of Tommy’s tie before pulling him up.

"We don't have long” she said before pulling him closer and they kissed while her hands started to work at your husband’s belt and then, before too long, she was caressing his erection through his briefs.

Within seconds, he tore himself away from her kiss and pulled his underwear down all the while she lifted herself off the desk and slipped her panties down and off.

It was revolting and you knew what was going to happen next, right there, on your desk.

“Spread your legs for me Love. Nice and wide” Tommy told her before kissing her again and then you could see his cock, pressing into her crotch and you heard her sigh gently.

He then kissed her again and she leaned back and opened her legs wider. Her hand then grasped your husband’s cock and guided it towards her opening. He pushed forward and slipped inside her and, by this point, you felt ill, well and truly.

You then heard Tommy groan loudly while small whimpers escaped Laura’s lips and her eyes started to close. The sound of their fucking combined with the soft gasps and whimpers were making you feel all sorts of things. There was hate, regret, disgust and even jealousy. It was revolting and, yet, you couldn’t look away, watching your husband make love to another woman.

Eventually, Laura’s breathing became faster and her eyes opened wide. You knew she was close and, apparently, so did your husband as you watched thrust a bit faster now.

You were listening to the moans, groans and the squelching noises which, clearly, were a testament to her arousal.

“Oh god, Tommy, I am so close” she moaned as, clearly, her pussy clamped down onto his cock and as her orgasm washed through her and, just as she came, so did he.

He flooded her pussy with his seed and this was when you had enough. You could not take it anymore and looked away before, eventually, tippy toeing to your chambers.

You were crying some silent tears, feeling failure and regret over marrying this man and, whilst you knew that your husband had been visiting the whore house every week, this was so much worse. Laura Garett, out of all fucking people.

You hated her. She was vile and, yet, your very own husband was sleeping with her and you certainly did not know why. Was it boredom? Did he love her? Why did he sleep with her?

In the end, you tried to drown your sorrows with some whiskey that night and then went to bed only to be woken up again, during the night, by your crying step-son, Charlie.

He was missing his mother again and, just as the night before, you took him into your own bed and read him a story. He was still young and needed someone in his life. Someone other than his father who, clearly, had no idea about his son’s very own fears and nightmares.

But you, you did. You had lived at Arrow House for three months and had become accustomed to your role there. Charlie liked you and, luckily for him, you liked him too.

And yet, none of this was enough for you. You wanted, no you needed, to be loved but love was not a feeling your husband was capable of so you knew that, perhaps, you had to find it somewhere else.

To be continued…

Please comment and engage. I love getting comments and predictions pretty please!

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fancyfeathers · 4 months

Note

Can I have husband yandere jouno x fem reader

Romantic

Headcanon or one-shot

Fem reader doesnt know that jouno is yandere, because she is oblivious(is that right?) and they love each other.

I love your yandere Jouno headcanon 🤭✨

oooo this is good, thank you

Jouno would absolutely be the best husband. Since he would wake up early he would make breakfast every morning and leaving it on the bed side table with a little note before he leaves for work.

When he comes home he’ll sneak up behind his wife and hug her from behind while she’s still working, because due to his job he insists that she work from home if she’s going to work even though his salary can easily cover both his and her expenses and then some.

Over time he’ll come up with any and every excuse to keep her inside, “Oh dear you have that important business call today, you better prep for it.” “Sorry darling, but my back is killing me after that mission, I don’t think we’ll be able to make our reservations.” “Finished work early hm? Well I already made dinner so no reason to go out.”

Over time the sweet and loving husband you had begins to morph into something a bit more possessive, overly protective. He begins listening in to your work meeting when he’s home, making note about anything he doesn’t like or even possible illegal. Before you know it two weeks later your boss is being investigated for fraud among other things.

Oh but your sweet Jouno is holding you after you lost your job. He’s telling you how everything will be okay, now you can focus more on you hobbies instead of a boring old job.

Then he gets an idea, a horrible idea but it would work…

He lets some crime gang member follow him home after he arrested one of theirs. He uses his ability to hide so he’s unseen to you and it looks like to his adversaries that he went inside.

You’ll be working on whatever hobby you do to occupy your time now and then you hear the glass shatter of the window. Before you can even process anything there is a gun held to your head and threats unless you tell them where the hunting dog is-

“Stooping so low as to go after my wife, hm? What utter scum you are.”

Jouno materializes behind them, his sword pointed at their back. He looks over at you and smiles.

”Darling, be sweet for me and close your eyes.”

You do so and you hear all the screams, and that’s when you realize how terrifying your husband can truly be. It isn’t until a long moment of silence after that last wet sound of sword piercing flesh that you feel Jouno’s gloved hand leading you to another room that he finally tells you to open your eyes.

You can only collapse in his arms and sob and tell him how scared you were. He shushes your cries and tells you how it will be alright, you two just may need to move for a little while to make sure they don’t come looking to hurt you again.

And of course you believe him, he’s your husband, he would never hurt you. That is true. He would never hurt YOU

He moves you two into a government safe house that only he and the other Hunting Dogs know about. It’s in the woods, so it’s not harsh on his senses so he can finally relax and not worry about you being harmed.

Then after two weeks here it’s when you realize you won’t be leaving, ever…

#yandere bungo stray dogs x reader #yandere bungou stray dogs #yandere bsd #yandere jouno #yandere Jouno Saigiku #Yandere Jouno x reader #jouno saigiku x reader #jouno x reader

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v3nusxsky · 8 months

Note

Heyyyyy

Would you write a jemily xFem Reader where the Reader just joined the team and the two women find out that reader has never had a threesome so they have one with reader…? Thxxx so much in advance! Do with this what you will (:

-a writer you chat too <33

One for the books 18+

*Authors note~ Jemily smut has been long awaited and very much missed, I’m sorry it’s taking me so long to get our requests I’m getting ready to go to school seeing a lot of family and still trying to book a driving test *

A/n p2~ I know who requested this one and considering I look up to them and admire their work I really hope this is okay

Trigger warnings~ virgin r soft switch JJ and dom Emily, mommy and daddy kink oral degrading praise kinks cum filled strap vibrator bindings body shots gagging drinking? Masturbation?

Prompt~ see ask^^^^

✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿

Ladies night with the BAU was always interesting, but this was your first one as a member of the team. After all what a better way to get to know you. Truthfully JJ had her eye on you for a while, but her wife was adamant you weren’t even gay at this point. The little fantasy of finding another to introduce into the bedroom at least would have to be with someone who was definitely gay, no matter how much they truly wanted you. But a few drinks later and a few probing questions had you spelling that you were in fact a lesbian and very much single. The green light for the women to proposition you. A quick conversation decided that JJ should be the one to approach you due to her motherly nature.

That was how you ended up sat next to JJ as you had a hushed conversation, Emily keeping Garcia busy which gave the plan a violent shove. “I’ve never um I’m a virgin” you whispered to the blonde. “It’s okay baby, we can teach you everything you want to know, need to know and probably some things you haven’t even thought of” JJ reassured which had you nodding in agreement and admitting how badly you wanted the women. Your fantasies at night would be real and that was sure to be one for the books.

Perhaps that’s enough of the story to explain how you had been taken to the women’s hotel room with the promise of a nightcap and a conversation. The very conversation that had a very drunk you had your top off, revealing a pretty navy blue bra to the women. JJ preparing you with salt and lime juice, all the way from the middle of your bra to the waistband of your skirt, before she pours the liquid along your body and allows Emily to lick up the trail, ensuring to get every last drop of the liquor. The feeling of the raven haired woman’s tongue was unlike no other and you couldn’t bite back a whimper when she gently nipped the smooth skin of your stomach.

From there you were ready to beg them to ruin you, to take your innocence as long as you had them. But Emily already knew how much you needed them, so she set JJ to work. The blonde agent happily stripped you bare and used soft silky material to tie your wrists to the bedposts. From there she spread your legs and with the nod from Emily took an experimental swipe of your slit. Meanwhile Emily had appeared by your head to shower your breasts with her kisses. Truly you had to have died and gone to heaven? Because nothing has ever felt like this, real or not.

Your little whimpers and whines of need were turning both the other agents on to no end, so it was rather hard for them to keep up their little game. Emily had JJ stop and untie you, not wanting to push any limits but giving you a crash course on certain elements. Then she helped you tie the blonde woman up with a skill you seemed to lack. Only then did you watch Emily take your discarded panties and stuff them in the other woman’s mouth to stifle a protest. “Angel, your next lesson is to make your mommy feel good” Emily purred kissing your neck. “Em, I uh I don’t know how” you whispered feeling slightly embarrassed about that. “Oh but you will learn to be a good slut for mommy right?” Emily was pleased to see you nod In response, “then go eat mommy out angel, don’t be rough darling she doesn’t like that too much, gentle licks and kisses like a good girl.”

It took a few trys to find the right pressure and speed and also to get use to the taste of her pussy on your tongue but as soon as you did, you were eating her cunt like a pro, Emily couldn’t be prouder, watching her wife’s face contort in pleasure as her moans were muffled buy your panties had the woman dipping her hand into her own panties to play with her own puffy clit. Truly you couldn’t pinpoint when both the woman stripped down to nothing but maybe that’s because you were busy being fucked by Jays talented tongue. But hearing the praise and encouragement mixed with moans tumbling from Emily gave you the indication that she was very much playing with herself as you pleasure her wife.

“Oh fuck! Y/n good fucking girl, daddy is so proud, oh fuck Jay I’m coming with you, come for us” Emily demanded and be the tone alone Jay was instantly following the command, soaking your face with her cum as it gushed from her fluttering core. You helped her down the best you could before Emily instructed you on how to untie the spent woman. A few moments later JJ was back and ready to confine so Emily demanded she helped position you, after all the guest of honour hasn’t came yet. Once in position Emily lubed up her cum filled strap on and asked for your consent. Of course you gave it willingly, Emily prentiss wanting to deflower you? Any gay teenage girls dream come true.

It hurt at first, your little pained whimper causing JJ to coo at you from her place in the room where she was digging through her bag, Emily kissing away the few stray tears that escaped. But some time and patience had you begging her to move, to fuck you. You wanted to be hers. “Fuck angel, who would’ve know you were a slut? A pretty fucking whore for everyone to use. Dirty girl for daddy” she panted as she began to find her rhythm pounding into your needy cunt.

“Oh but what about mommy’s precious girl? Don’t you wanna be a good girl for me too” JJ teased coming over to you and handing Emily a small little vibrating toy. Emily seemed to get rougher with her thrusts and when you mewled out loudly JJ would silence you with kisses or sucking on your breasts. But soon enough not even that would quieten you so she slipped two fingers in your mouth and pressed on your tongue, causing you to instinctively suck on them. “Oh fuck baby, keep doing that. You should see the way she’s clamping around my cock, wanna cum pretty?” You attempted to answer around her fingers, “oh wait that’s right, our little whore is too busy sucking on mommys fingers to speak, did we dumb you down baby?”

The tightening in your lower stomach was getting stronger the more Emily drilled into your awaiting cunt before you felt it suddenly snap and your body convulse as pleasure shot through you. “That’s it angel, good girl, you’re so fucking pretty” Emily panted before squeezing the balls of her strap on to cum inside of you. Now all three body’s covered in sweat and on the come down from a blissful night, yet Emily was the one to want to clean you both up, to get water and snuggle, JJ opting to curl up and nap leaving you and Emily alone to talk. She reassured you this wasn’t just a fling for them. And that you were so good, she reassured you for any worries you may have until you drifted off to sleep between them both.

#anon answered #v3nusxsky answers #fanfic #anon requested #jemily #jemily x reader #Jemily x reader smut #Emily x JJ x reader #criminal minds fanfic #emily prentiss x reader smut #ssa emily prentiss #ssa jareau #emily prentiss smut #jj smut #jenifer jareau x reader

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thedeathlysallows · 28 days

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Is It Over Now? (9)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Aemma Velaryon

Summary: And did you think I didn't see you?

Warnings: Canon typical Targaryen incest. Simp!Aemond. Brief mentions of violence. Aemma is getting pretty depressed and desperate tbh

Tag list: @callsignwidow (I’m so sorry I forgot originally. I promise it wasn’t intentional)

"What do you mean I'm not allowed to see my own grandmother?" You glare up at Criston Cole, the smug bastard. The joy of denying you and confining you to your room, as if you're some petulant child that wouldn't eat their vegetables rather than a princess and heir to the throne that you are, is all over his face.

"Princess Rhaenys is confined to her room as well. Neither of you are permitted to see your dragons either. Your lord husband has commanded you to prepare for the coronation." Cole bows stiffly before turning sharply on his heel and marching off, sword clanging at his side.

Your hand falls to your stomach as a wave of nausea washes over your body.

So, this is it.

You're well and truly a prisoner as your uncle seizes the Iron Throne.

You want to scream and rage and slit Aegon's miserable throat all at the same time. Most of all you want your mother. It should be her coronation you're commanded to prepare for... and it wouldn't need to be a command either. You'd do it happily. Dutifully.

But you won't do it now. Not for Aegon. Never for Aegon. You're finished allowing him to use you as it pleases him. He'll never lay a hand on you again, and neither will Aemond. How could you be expected to debase yourself in such a way? To give the brother of your mother's usurper children? No, you won't. If Aemond expects it he can take a mistress for all you care.

With your mind made up on the matter, your eyes flit over to the dress some maid or other had laid out on your bed before your kicked all of them out in your rage upon returning to the Keep. The material is long and flowy, meant to drape over your body in a way you'd find attractive if your weren't so upset. The color is the same deep green of House Hightower that you always see Alicent in.

You hate it with such an intense passion that you subconsciously find yourself reaching for the small dagger on Aemond's desk.

"Don't," comes the cool voice of your husband. His fingers wrap around your wrist and he pulls your back to his chest. His other hand splays across your stomach, warming your skin beneath his touch. "The dress is too pretty to ruin."

"I have no need of it as I won't be attending this joke of a coronation. Aegon can choke on his wine."

You feel Aemond's lips twitch against your hair. "I'm sure His Majesty won't be happy to hear his favorite niece say such a thing."

"But his brother is?"

"Or perhaps his brother is simply relieved to find a chasm growing between his wife and the King."

"The chasm is big enough to swallow you as well, Aemond. Do you think I'll ever forgive any of you for this? Do you think I'll happily fall in your bed after this?"

Aemond's hold on your tightens. "Our bed. We are married after all."

"Yes, but for how much longer?"

"What does that mean?" His voice is icy. Dangerous even.

Aegon’s promise before he dragged you back to the Keep with him bounces around in your head. No one can stop me from taking you for my own.

"Nothing," you find yourself reassuring Aemond. "It's only... you're all starting a war. I don't understand how none of you see it. What will the first casualty be? Me? You?"

He turns you around to face him, his hand moving from your stomach to your cheek. "You're safe here."

"Am I? I'm confined to our room, unable to see my grandmother or Vermithor-"

"How old were you when you claimed Vermithor?"

You blink in confusion, uncertain of Aemond's sudden question. "Young. Too young perhaps."

"You were five." His violet eye seems to stare into your very soul as he speaks, laying your very essence bare before him. "It was impossibly brave of you. And idiotic."

"What's your point."

"You wanted Vermithor and you claimed him by any means necessary. That is why my grandfather deems you important enough to imprison. You truly are the blood of the dragon and he's terrified."

Your brow furrows as you take in Aemond's words. "I think you place too much importance on me."

"I could never. You're everything to me. I've waited for you for years and I won't let anyone take you from me now. You're safe with me, my love, this I promise." His gaze flicks down to your lips as he draws you closer, craning his head down.

Your earlier promises of never letting him touch you again fly from your mind as you melt into the softness of his hands. He holds you like he's unworthy of you, like you're something so unbelievably precious to him. He kisses you in the same way. Aemond's lips are gentle and loving as they move against yours. He rushes nothing and savors everything.

"Let me keep you safe," Aemond whispers against your mouth.

The desire pooling between your thighs almost drives you to distraction, but you muster enough focus to nod before wrapping your arms around his neck and stealing another kiss. Aemond reciprocates in kind, his cock throbbing in his trousers as you whimper and grind yourself against him.

Aegon had once told him pretty words could get him anywhere with a woman, but everything Aemond said to you he meant. They were more than pretty words. Every single bit of it was true. He loves you and he'll make you love him in turn no matter what.

"We need to get dressed," Aemond finally manages to say between kisses.

Your hand trails down between your bodies, resting on his hard cock. "And if I would rather get undressed, husband?"

Aemond has to resist the urge to bend you over his desk and fuck you senseless until that pretty little mouth of yours can only say his name. He wants it so badly he can practically feel your cunt around him, but you don't deserve to be fucked like some common whore. No, you deserve to be worshipped. Ravished.

"We don't have time." He hates the way your face falls when he says it, but it's true. There's no time for everything he wants to do to you. "Afterwards, I promise."

"You're making a lot of promises today." Your attempt at humor falls a bit flat as neither of you are in the mood for it. "Aemond, please, don't make me watch."

His thumb traces your cheekbone softly. "You're attendance is required; however, I'll see what I can do about reuniting you with Vermithor if you'll come."

You aren't stupid enough to believe you'd be left alone with your dragon, but it's a step in the right direction. Maybe... maybe this is how you should play their little game. Let them think you've been tamed and domesticated until you can earn enough of their trust that you can get back to your mother.

A plan starts to form in your head.

"Alright," you say to Aemond. "I'll attend."

Aemond kisses you briefly. "I'll wait for you just outside the door."

You nod, watching him leave before heading to your closet and selecting a different dress. This one is a deep red that clings to your body and ends in a long train. It's slightly difficult to get it on by yourself, but you somehow manage, meeting Aemond in the hallway. He observes you with a raised brow though says nothing about your choice of attire. Getting you to agree to come was tricky enough. He isn't about to demand you change clothes.

"Come," he says as he offers you his arm.

The two of you walk in silence to the dragon pit where you join the royal procession, standing on the dais in front of the smallfolk. Many whisper and point at you until Aegon enters and begins walking towards the Septon. Swords clang as he walks beneath, coughs and sniffles coming from the crowd. In the distance you think you can hear Vermithor's mournful cry echoing the hollow feeling in your heart. Aemond, for his part, seems to sense this as well and holds your hand in his.

Aegon's crowning passes in a blur. You hear little of it and completely ignore when he looks in your direction for some sort of sign you accept him. Unlike Alicent and Helaena, you don't curtsy. You don't even nod as Aemond does. You stare straight ahead into the crowd, a few faces staring straight back with pity.

As the crowd cheers Aegon's name you feel as though you'll pass out. That should be your mother wearing the conqueror's crown. All of this is so, so wrong-

Screams cut off your thoughts as debris scatters across the room. The dust settles and you see your grandmother astride Meleys. She meets your eyes and smiles sadly, mouthing the words be strong. You take several steps forward before Aemond wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you back.

"Let me go," you cry out. "Let me go!"

Aemond shakes his head. "No. You let her go."

You wail and kick, fighting against him with everything you have, but it's no use. Aemond is much stronger than you and keeps you in place easily until Rhaenys flies off.

Without you.

You collapse against Aemond's chest and sob until he has to carry you out.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x you

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celticcrossanon · 3 months

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BRF Reading - 4th of February, 2024

This is speculation only

Cards drawn on the 4th of February, 2024

Question: Is Harry going to lose his Prince title in the next three months?

While I was shuffling the cards, I heard two sentences in my mind. One was of someone saying "I'm thinking about it, don't rush me" in a testy voice, and the other was a deeper, calmer voice saying "Sooner than you think". Make of that what you will. The testy, don't want to be rushed energy has carried over into the cards.

Interpretation: Something is coming for Harry, but I'm not sure exactly what.

Card One: Strength in reverse.

The Strength card is the card of Leo, and due to the picture on the Rider-Waite card it is sometimes taken as the Virgo and Leo/Harry and Meghan card. Here it is in the reverse, indicating that Harry and Meghan, the ones poking and wrestling with the lion of England, are going to fall even further than they already have and/or suffer a major defeat. This particularly applies to Meghan, as she is a sun sign Leo.

As a general card, Strength in reverse tells me that Harry is a coward, dominated by his wife, and lacking any significant inner strength or fortitude. He has abandoned his passions and lost everything that used to give him joy and a sense of purpose in life (if there was anything like this in his life). Instead he is just going along with what his wife wants, becoming more and more unhappy, and so spiralling downwards.

The card is also saying that Harry lacks the inner strength to do anything about his situation. He would rather wait for someone else to rescue him, like a damsel in distress, than face the unpleasantness involved in setting himself free. He is not a bold, courageous lion of England in any way - again, I am getting that he does not have a truly courageous bone in his body.

Card Two: The Ace of Pentacles in reverse

Pentacles are about material status, wealth, prosperity, the things of the body and of the world. The Ace signifies new beginnings or new opportunities. In the reverse, it is about missed chances, bad investments, scarcity and deficiencies.

This card is giving me the energy of Harry being stripped of some or all of his worldly status (and wealth). It's giving me hope that Harry will be stripped of his Prince title, but it is not saying that this is a done deal. Instead I am getting a variation of the energy that I got while shuffling the cards - we are thinking about it, it is not something to be rushed.

This new beginning on a lower status feels like it is under consideration. It may very well happen, but the energy is not quite at that point. Pentacles move very slowly, so this may be something that happens in the future, after the three month time period I put on this reading, or it may be something that is slowly coming into being.

If you look at the card, you can see that the pentacle is being held aloft by Poseidon, who is in a sea of water. Water represents emotions in the Tarot, so there are strong feelings about this matter and they are influencing the decision.

Card Three: The Nine of Wands in reverse.

The Nine of Wands is about making your last stand, making one last effort to achieve your goal. In the reverse, it is a card of giving up, of failing to achieve your goal. It can also be a card of being stubbornly set on something, or not making a commitment because you are afraid you don't have the resources to cope if something goes wrong.

This card tells me that Harry's last stand is over. The battle is lost. Whatever he is fighting for (and I'm not sure he knows what that is), it is lost, over, finished. All that is left for him is to recognise this and go somewhere to sort out what he is going to do next. Instead of this, he seems to be unable to realise that the battle is lost, and he is stubbornly insisting on continuing fighting and blaming those around him for his losses.

There is also a suggestion here that Harry is afraid of changing his ways because he thinks he does not have the money/resources to be able to do this, so he will continue on his current path even when everyone around him can see that it is hopeless.

Wands can be PR, but the only PR energy I am getting for this is to give up, retreat, and try to figure out a way to redeem yourself, if that is possible.

As a final note: The Nine of Wands can be a mental health card, and in the reverse it can indicate worsening mental health. I do think that this is the case with Harry, that he is becoming more paranoid and suspicious of people, but I also think that he is using his mental health as a weapon in his fight against his family, in a "if you do x I will do y and it will be all your fault" kind of way. I feel that this weapon is gradually losing its effectiveness, but it still carries some power when he uses it against the BRF. I also feel that this will not be the case for much longer.

Underlying Energy: The Two of Pentacles in reverse.

The energy of this card is of things being out of balance. Energy is being spent in areas that do not bring the hoped for return, and energy is not being spent in areas that would give a good return. This is the suit of Pentacles again, and Harry only has two of them left ( for me the two are his Prince title and his Duke of Sussex title). He is frantically juggling them trying to slot them in here, there, and everywhere, with the result that he has overextended himself and the value of these titles has gone down from many pentacles to just two.

I mentioned balance above. The juggler has lost his balance and the Two of Pentacles, instead of flying merrily through the air, have fallen on the floor and are rolling away from him. Reversals can mean things being taken away, so it is possible that Harry's Prince title will be taken away. The bigger energy is that of someone who has taken something that was perceived as valuable and cheapened it to brass because of their behaviour.

I believe this is how the BRF sees Prince Harry - as the Two of Pentacles in reverse, unbalanced, out of control, and dropping those pentacles they are juggling all over the place. That is the current situation and the question is, what are they going to do about it?

Conclusion:

All the cards in this reading are in reverse, which does not bode well for Harry.

I think that the BRF are currently discussing what to do about Harry and how long they are going to let him cheapen and tarnish his Prince title (and possibly his Duke title, but I didn't ask about that). They know he is a coward, that his reputation is spiralling downwards, and that he has no inner strength or resilience to bring himself back from this situation. They also know that he has tried and failed in what he set out to do. He has been defeated, the battle is over, and yet he stubbornly insists on keeping on fighting.

There is energy about the idea stripping him of one of his royal titles (reducing his pentacles from two to one), as if it is being considered, but I do not feel that it has come to a final conclusion. I think that what is stopping them is concern for his mental health, and I think that Harry is playing that card with them. I also think that the patience of the BRF is running very thin with Harry, and the time will come when they say we don't care what you are saying you will do, this is what is going to happen and that is it.

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gffa · 11 months

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I think it's meant to be a little bit of both--Lucas says of them: “Anakin and Padmé are getting married in what will be a doomed relationship, which they have already stated earlier on is not gonna work. But they do love each other. They’re truly in love with each other. It’s the issue of true love over duty. It’s really the 'Romeo and Juliet' aspect of it, of a doomed relationship, in more ways than one really. She married the wrong guy.“ --George Lucas, Attack of the Clones commentary “Anakin wants to have a family. He wants to be married to Padmé and have children. […] But at the same time he knows he can’t have one. Now the greed has taken over and the fear of losing his wife and baby. The whole point is you can’t possess somebody because they are their own person. You can’t dominate and make them do everything you want them to do.” --George Lucas, The Star Wars Archives1999-2005 "The core issue, ultimately, is greed, possessiveness - the inability to let go. Not only to hold on to material things, which is greed, but to hold on to life, to the people you love - to not accept the reality of life’s passages and changes, which is to say things come, things go. Everything changes. Anakin becomes emotionally attached to things, his mother, his wife. That’s why he falls - because he does not have the ability to let go." --George Lucas, Revenge of the Sith commentary “But he become attached to his mother and he will become attached to Padme and these things are, for a Jedi, who needs to have a clear mind and not be influenced by threats to their attachments, a dangerous situation. And it feeds into fear of losing things, which feeds into greed, wanting to keep things, wanting to keep his possessions and things that he should be letting go of. His fear of losing her turns to anger at losing her, which ultimately turns to revenge in wiping out the village. The scene with the Tusken Raiders is the first scene that ultimately takes him on the road to the dark side. I mean he’s been prepping for this, but that’s the one where he’s sort of doing something that is completely inappropriate."--George Lucas, The Star Wars Archives 1999-2005 “[Anakin] turns into Darth Vader because he gets attached to things. He can’t let go of his mother; he can’t let go of his girlfriend. He can’t let go of things. It makes you greedy. And when you’re greedy, you are on the path to the dark side, because you fear you’re going to lose things, that you’re not going to have the power you need.” --George Lucas, Time magazine There's also another quote where he basically says they're really in love but it becomes kinda dysfunctional by the end, but I can't find the direct quote again, so take it with a grain of salt. The point behind the above collection of quotes is that Anidala is both, that it's genuine love--it has to be genuine love for the story to work--and it's toxic--it has to be toxic for the story to work. The whole story is that Anakin fell into attachment (the fear of being without someone, so much that you would do terrible things or rip yourself to pieces over it, that's the Buddhist-aligned definition and the one Star Wars is working with) because he became so greedy and possessive of her that he was willing to murder children just to keep the fear of her death at bay. But in order to be a tragic story, in order for us to care about the relationship and the characters in it, it also has to be genuine and true, there has to be real love there. Ultimately, yes, it was a destructive relationship because that's the basic premise of the story--Anakin's love turned to attachment, it turned to greed, it turned to possessiveness, it turned to horror--that there are signs all along the way, but that the sweet moments are genuine, too, that their laughter in the grass on Naboo is real, that their ache for each other as the war kept them apart was real, that Padme's excitement about having their baby was real, because none of them were monsters when they started out, not even Anakin, for all that he forged himself into one. Our hearts wouldn't break for monsters if there was no love in them to start with. (Whether someone thinks this was well done or not, that's a different argument to be had! But I think fundamentally the thing the story was going for is that they started out sweet, but Anakin's fears and Padme's desire to look the other way over his terrible acts, took them to a very unhealthy, awful place in the end.)

#anakin skywalker #padme amidala #anidala for blacklist #meta

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random-and-average · 10 months

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Yandere Miguel O'Hara with Shadow Wizard!S/O

Author's Note: I spent hours pondering how to make this work, but I came up with nothing that would make sense in terms of the movie. Thus, my rationale is that, if the multiverse details every single possibility and change, then magic has to exist in one of them, right? (Please just let me have this :']) Also, this headcanon is most likely the darkest one I've made so far. With great power comes great suffering, it seems.

Content Warning(s): kidnapping, confinement, mentioned drugging, exploitation, stalking, Google translate Spanish, extremely bad writing

At first, Miguel would try to find a way to use your magic to benefit him while determining your specialties and limits

Of course, those a part of the Shadow Wizard Money Gang Secret Society (SWSS) have to be exceptionally good at magic, so you're no exception

(Although, the society exclusively practices conjuration, transmutation, and necromancy magic because I don't see a Shadow Wizard society practicing things like divination or abjuration)

At the very least, if you refuse to use your magic to serve someone who is lesser than you, you'll just have to conjure random items that Spider-People need, such as a screwdriver or stepping stool

At most, if you're willing to be under Miguel's orders, you will be a semi-member of the Spider-Society, so you'll be brought on missions to aid in maintaining the order of the multiverse

On the off chance that Miguel has free time, he'll demand you see him so that he can witness you utilize your magic

Your universe's Spider-Man, if he is a part of Miguel's society, is internally cursing the entirety of the SWSS for causing him trouble outside of his universe

"Do you guys have to cause chaos in every location you're in?" Spider-Mage complained as he followed you around. As your universe's original Spider-Man, he was tasked to monitor you while you get comfortable at headquarters, though the two of you hated the idea of being in the other's presence.

"And do you have to be a wet carpet in every location you're in?" You quipped. "Spirits forbid you cast a minor transmutation spell! You might just upset the very order of magic with that one."

"I fail to see how using a shrinking spell to make Webslinger think his horse went missing is a 'minor transmutation spell,' but please enlighten me."

"I can't enlighten a fool who thinks size reduction is anything more than a minor spell. Inherent ineptitude isn't something that can be fixed immediately."

"Why you..."

»»-———¯\_(ツ)_/¯———-««

The moment he grasps the full scope of your abilities, including your necromancy ones, he'll start taking up more of your time until all of your days are spent with him

Granted, at this point it's not out of love, but so you can bring the family that he lost and was never able to get back no matter how hard he tried back

And he will force you to truly resurrect them, no matter the price

Diamonds? A body? Something holy? Something cursed? Anything you need, he'll provide it for you

You'll be confined to a solitary room until you get the spell right, unable to see anyone but Miguel when he provides you the materials to resurrect them

He can't afford you being distracted when the possibility of getting his family back is within reach

Unfortunately, the main component of true resurrection is that the soul of the person is willing to be brought back to life

Main problem? Only Gabriella is willing to come back, both of his wives meanwhile...

You can't even plead with them to come back, as Miguel doesn't have either wife's corpse

And he refuses to not have both his wife and child

So you're forced to stay in that cramped room and sleep on an uncomfortable mattress for longer, draining your energy repeatedly casting the same spell

With nothing grounding you to the present except for the buzzing of fluorescent lights, you started wondering how long it had been since Miguel quite literally dragged you to this small room in order to fulfill his deranged fantasies.

'Bring back my family,' he demanded from you as if you could just perfectly resurrect people at the press of a button, and even then, with his distasteful personality, you doubted the reunion would be all sunshine and rainbows.

However, you were starting to get desperate.

You didn't care how he was going to insane lengths to bring back his dead wife and daughter. You didn't care that the former individual didn't want to come back. You didn't care that he somehow was able to not only supply but continuously provide the materials you needed to cast the spell.

You just wanted to get out of this prison.

You couldn't stand the buzzing lights; the stiff spring mattress that reeked of body odor due to you not being able to shower; the putrid stench and humiliating sight of the toilet bucket, stripping you of your pride as a Shadow Wizard; the monochrome color scheme of this spirit forsaken cell that was exacerbated by the grey concrete walls all around you; the lack of being able to interact with anyone, save for the madman that brought you here; and the fact that you were only here to be exploited, to be treated like a tool that can be used whenever and however its owner pleases.

The screeching noise of metal against concrete stole your attention and forced you to look at the only person who would enter this miserable room.

"I have the needed materials."

You couldn't help but sneer at Miguel's statement. His straight-forwardness was refreshing at times, but in this situation, it infuriated you. He didn't even politely request that you cast a difficult spell or ensured that you were comfortable to do so. If only he knew that, back in your dimension, people would get on their hands and knees to beg you to cast a simple spell.

"What makes you think that your wife will allow herself to be brought back? She hasn't done it in the past, so what would make her change now? You might as well give up or settle for only Gabriella being resurrected," you reasoned. Hopefully, he still had enough sanity to know that what he wanted was a pipe dream. If he did, it would mean you would be able to be freed sooner.

"She might have finally come around to the idea that it's better to come back to her husband."

Rage almost compelled you to lash out at him. How easy it was for him to talk as if he was minorly inconvenienced by his wife's refusal when you were the one suffering because of it. Though, you reigned your anger in since you wanted to reduce the amount of time you had to spend in this place.

Miguel would eventually understand that achieving his dream was futile, and some vengeful part of you wished to see him break down in despair when he does.

»»-———¯\_(ツ)_/¯———-««

His feelings for you only start to change once he realizes that, regardless of how many times you cast True Resurrection, neither of his wives will be willing to come back

Miguel is obviously devastated by these turn of events

Suddenly, he is much more aware of how lonely he was this entire time, and it's too much for him to bear alone

So he finds comfort in someone that has no choice but to provide him solace, you

Slowly, with each visit (or counselling sessions, basically), he grows fond of you

You are the only one who stood next to him when he was at his lowest (even if it was unwillingly)

In gratitude, you are let out of your room, but you're limited to the entirety of headquarters, nothing outside of it

He can't let you leave after you saw him when he was the most vulnerable he'd ever been since the loss of his second family; you were special

Eventually, the longer you stay by his side, his fondness for you grows into something else as he takes note of your interests, quirks, and minute features

"Miguel? Miguelllllllll. Are you even listening to me?"

Lyla appeared in front of the footage of you laughing with the other Spider-People as you demonstrated that you, too, were capable of shooting webs like them, forcing Miguel's attention to focus on her rather than you.

"Por el amos de Dios (for fuck's sake), what do you want, Lyla? I'm busy."

The woman gave him a stare that indicated that she didn't believe him. "Yeahhh, busy doing what exactly? Busy being a creep?"

"I'm busy monitoring the anomaly to ensure they don't interfere with the multiverse."

She scoffed, "You and I both know that they have no intention of doing so. If they did, they would've done it already, seeing as they have plenty of magic at their disposal. Obviously, you're stalking them out of your own self-interests."

Miguel glared at the hologram as he turned off the footage with a frustrated huff.

"I don't care what you think about me, but any word about this to anyone else, especially them, and I will erase you. Understand?"

All of Lyla's sass vanished faced with the man's glowing red stare that pierced through her being. Although she wished he was just bluffing, his tone clearly showed otherwise.

"...I understand." And with that, she disappeared.

»»-———¯\_(ツ)_/¯———-««

You'll know when Miguel is completely besotted with you

He will start taking up more of your time, just like he did when he understood your necromancy magic

This time, however, it's not to resurrect his dead family; it's to just spend time with him

It starts out as being forced to have breakfast, lunch, and dinner with him

Then it turns into full-fledged "dates" where he allows you to explore various dimensions under his supervision

Finally, you are forced to choose to have a microchip implanted in your body so that Miguel knows where you are 24/7; be magically bound to Miguel through a sacred ritual, courtesy of an intimidated Spider-Mage following orders; or stay by Miguel 24/7

Of course, the man does feel guilty for keeping you in the equivalent of solitary confinement

As a result, he is willing to bend the knee to you at times, giving into your demands as long as they aren't too "unreasonable"

He will spend the rest of his life atoning for what he did to you

Dedicates a space for you in his home where you can cast and experiment with as many spells as you desire

(It has cameras hidden in every nook and cranny in case you start dabbling in magic that'll take you away from him)

Absolutely melts inside when you start becoming less hostile/defensive towards him

(However, if your hostility doesn't stop, he'll simply remedy the issue by sneaking a love potion—once again, courtesy of Spider-Mage—into your drink)

Without fail, he takes a week-long break on your "honeymoon" every year, which usually involves visiting your home dimension

Speaking of your home dimension, the Shadow Wizard Secret Society (SWSS) initially doesn't take too kindly to one of their own being romantically involved with a magic-less person

But as the saying goes: if there's a will, there's a way

After a few choice threats and an offer to provide them with any needed materials, they're perfectly fine with Miguel

Though your colleagues pity you for being bound to such a lowly lifeform

Miguel loves seeing you cast magic and will even set aside some time for you to show him your power if you desire it

Secretly looks forward to watching you teach your future children magic

Gave you access to his desk, so you can also watch the Spider-People

Even allows you to be there while he discusses plans, mainly because Lyla likes having you there

(She sometimes begs you to demonstrate your magical prowess by having you animate objects into recreating the plan)

Will keep you in the dark about plans concerning individuals that could negatively influence you, specifically Miles and Hobie

Jealous of any creature you summon/conjure, even if it's to do a task; though, his jealousy intensifies if it's a humanoid

Goes through the effort of learning wizard customs (courtesy of Spider-Mage, like always)

All things considered, it was a normal day for you. You just spent hours watching movies that Miguel bought for you in his massive luxury apartment, and there weren't alarms about a rogue anomaly. The entire day so far was peaceful and uneventful, really.

And that made the alarms in your head go off.

Your thoughts were interrupted when your homunculus dropped right beside you on the couch with an excited chirp. With a smile, you pet your servant.

"So, is Miguel hiding something from me again?"

It tapped the cushion twice. Yes.

"I knew it," you sighed. "I wonder if it has something to do with Hobie again."

You got up from the sofa with a groan as you stretch, and your homunculus jumped down to join you. However, you picked it up and placed it back where it was.

"You'll have to stay here for now, Empanada. Wouldn't want the mean spider to know who gave away his plans."

The homunculus, Empanada (You honestly thought that it deserved a better name, but Jess jokingly suggested that Miguel would like it more if you named after something he liked), whined, but it ultimately laid down on a pillow, indicating that it wouldn't follow you.

With your homunculus out of the way, you closed your eyes and pictured the meeting area that you were familiar with as well as the empty chair that was reserved for you.

"Teleport."

Rather than feeling the soft cushions of your chair, you felt the sensation of falling from the sky, and when you opened your eyes, that was indeed the case since you teleported a good amount of feet above the ground. "Are you kidding me right now?"

Expectedly, the people in the room didn't anticipate your arrival.

"I didn't know that they could teleport!"

"Gwen, you didn't tell me that there was a Spider-Person that could come out of thin air!"

"Oh ho, that person is the last person Miguel would want to be here."

"Querido/Querida!"

Before you could cast another spell, you find yourself in Miguel's arms while he chided you.

"What are you doing here? You should be back at home!"

"Don't think I'm stupid, Mig. I know something's up when there's nothing going on."

"That doesn't mean you should cast such a dangerous spell!"

"Any wizard worth their salt knows how to cast a teleportation spell. Besides, it's only 'dangerous' if you're not skilled enough."

"...Mi vida, we're having a talk after this."

Miguel set you gently onto the ground, and you steadied yourself before you saw that there was a seemingly new addition to the Spider-Society, a Spider-Man who looked to be bleeding out of his armpits.

"You didn't tell me that you recruited a new Spider-Man, Miguel."

"That's because I didn't. I had Jess bring him here because he disrupted a canon event in Earth-50101."

"Lemme guess, someone was supposed to die, and he saved them, right?"

"It would be for the sake of the multiverse-"

"So you say. Anyways," you turn to the new Spider-Man, "what's your name?"

"Miles. Miles Morales."

There was something about him that made him stand out from the millions of people you've seen across your life so far. Even though you've never touched divination magic, you could tell that Miles was destined for great things.

And you wanted to be there to experience those things.

"Something tells me that you and I are going to get along real well, Miles."

#yandere #yandere x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #x reader #yandere miguel o'hara #yandere atsv #atsv x reader

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peachymilkandcream · 5 months

Text

My Husband, My Monster|Part 2|William Afton x Wife!Reader

(A/N: Part 2 is here! I've honestly had such a good time writing this so far, part of me is kind of happy to not have a technical storyline to stick to so strongly like Break Me Slowly. I'm trying my best to keep these to once a week but we'll see how well we do with Christmas coming up. Also I'm not sure how long this fic will be, apparently more movies are coming out so once it's finished I might just make some oneshots inspired off of them but we'll see. Enjoy and don't hesitate to hope in my inbox for requests!)

WARNINGS: noncon, dubcon, power imbalance, age difference, manipulation, mind breaking, yandere themes, yandere behaviours, domestic violence, misogyny, violence, William’s a warning himself, etc.

=============================================

A person's first job was always a memorable part of their life, truly learning how to become an adult and gain valuable experience. And one hell of a experience it was.

The first shift had been great, William had taken her under his wing, showing her the ropes and ensuring that she understood her position. The atmosphere of work was lovely, friendly and playful and she got to interact with children which she loved. Each section of the diner was a wonder of mechanical feats, animatronics who came to life all because her boss was an ingenious man. Ketchup stains and the occasional milkshake spill were well worth the experience of it all.

"Well done for your first day, I hope everything didn't scare you off just yet."

She smiles, taking a moment to rest her feet after the long day. "Yeah, I knew going in there would be some level of chaos, it'll be fine."

"So in that case I'll see you tomorrow at eight sharp?"

There's a pause. "In the morning?"

"Of course, although it's common to be here a few minutes early."

"Well- sir- I have class that morning-"

"And I need you here. There's the most to do in the morning."

"I understand I just think I can't make it-"

William frowns. "I thought you could be flexible."

"Well I can but-"

"No it's alright, I see how it is. I'm counting on you and yet you're not here to back it up."

She chews her lip, she never could stand letting people down. "But class-"

"At the end of the day schooling won't get you everywhere you need, job experience is what's important."

There's a long moment of pause, considering her options. "Well- I suppose I can skip one class, one of my friends can take notes for me."

Now William brightens. "There we go, I knew I could count on you." His hand lands on her shoulder, keeping it there for a touch longer than usual to let it sink in.

Her smile is tight and forced, clearly a bit annoyed at having to miss one of her classes, but that she would come to grips with soon enough. =============================================

The next day ends similar to the first, hard work and exhaustion, stains and slight discomfort. Moments of rest spoiled when her boss slid her the paper copy of her indefinite schedule.

"These are all mornings-"

"Of course, it seems like that's where you're the best suited and it's where I need you the most. Why, is that a problem?"

"Did I forget to give you my class schedule? All my classes are mornings."

William shrugs. "I'm not sure what to say, I'm sure you can get by on notes."

"I'll get in trouble-"

"Oh you've never been to higher schooling, I have, don't worry it will be fine. All that really matters is that you know the material for tests and quizzes. That's all."

She shifts uncomfortably, as if deciding whether or not to argue the point further or if she should believe him.

Finally she nods, accepting. "I suppose you're right, it'll work out in the end."

============================================

Weeks went on like this, William working her to near collapse, giving her little time for friends and family and no time for school. The exhaustion was affecting her grades surely, since she always complained about not finishing an assignment on time.

It was inevitable when she came to him and told him of dropping out.

"You had to drop out? Why?" He asked innocently.

"My grades went down too far, and I just couldn't seem to focus or find interest in the course anymore. It was for the best to just quit before I spent too much money."

"That's such a shame."

She shrugs and gives a sad smile. "It's probably for the best, if I couldn't handle the schooling I wouldn't have handled the field."

He can't help but press further. "What do your parents think about this? They paid your tuition yes?"

"They're not happy at all, which is why I have to give in my two week notice."

This gave him pause, annoyance and confusion causing him to frown. "Two week notice? I would think you'd need a job more than ever now."

She shakes her head. "My parents are moving me away, they're convinced the reason I fail is because of my friends so they believe if I'm separated from them then I'll get my career."

All of his hard work was being threatened now, he had to think fast. "You're really going to give up your entire friend group because your parents are trying to order their grown daughter around?" He shakes his head. "I wouldn't allow that if I were you."

"But what can I do? I have no where to go, I can't afford my own place even at full time pay."

William pauses for a few moments for effect. "Well, I hate to see young futures go to waste, and since my heart goes out to those in need, I would be willing to help you afford an apartment. I'll get you to make it up to me in other ways, have you work some more or something, nothing to worry about."

"You'd really do that for me?" Her eyes shine with admiration.

"Of course, I care for all of my employees, and bright young minds need independence to thrive."

"Oh thank you thank you thank you!" Her smile is so big and bright, completely oblivious to the looming clouds threatening her happiness.

#william afton x oc #william afton smut #william afton x reader #william afton #steve raglan x oc #steve raglan smut #steve raglan x reader #steve raglan #fnaf movie #five nights at freddys #five nights at freddy's #fnaf #my husband my monster

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written-in-flowers · 2 years

Note

oh my! time for a request! I imagine something like, maybe, a Stark girl coming to King's Landing and she's all fierce and trains with ser Cole (or maybe uses bow and arrows idk) and Aemond sees that and is like "I want that, that's wife material" and just like falls for her and wants her. I know it sounds stupid but I believe you will write it beautifully.

The Dragon and The Wolf

(Note: I have SO MANY OC characters for this universe, so I'm definitely putting them to use lol)

***

She didn't like King's Landing, she quickly realized. The city was too hot and too crowded. It took their wheelhouse ages to get into the city, let alone up to the Red Keep. felt the heat through the holes in the windows; so much so, she removed her furs after a while. Peeking out the windows, she realized how disgusting the city looked. Buildings leaned on top of one another, creating narrow streets. Children ran barefoot or half-dressed through muddy, stinking streets. The worst smells back home were in the stables. Dyana missed the cool, crisp summer air; the tall sentinel trees that filled the forest and their godswood. She missed her brothers and little sister, who stayed behind because only she'd be leaving home.

To make a proper political alliance, Lord Stark and King Viseryes decided to bind their houses through marriage. She found it strange, since northerners married northerners or people from south of the neck, like her Riverland-born mother. Her mother tried convincing her marrying the prince would be beneficial to everyone. Yes, everyone but her. Dyanna did not mind doing her duty to her house. She always knew she'd marry a lord, run his castle and bear his children. She did not mind it at all. Dyanna might enjoy roughhousing, riding horses, and shooting her bow, but she liked dressing for balls, dancing with fine gentlemen, singing songs and reading and writing poetry. She became the noble lady her mother expected and her father approved of.

But, a part of her felt disappointed as the wheelhouse arrived inside the Red Keep's courtyard. She'd hoped to marry in a Northern lord, who'd understand her nature and customs. A southern lord, a prince no less, might not approve. He'll expect her to be a dutiful, compliant woman who will honor and obey him. Dyanna supposed she had no choice. Women in her position did not have one.

The wheelhouse stopped in the courtyard, and her father climbed out first. He didn't very much like the south either, but he wouldn't be living here like her. He'd go home to Winterfell, where snow covered the ground and hot water ran in the walls. She stayed frozen inside the wheelhouse, not moving even when he offered his hand to her. If she hid inside the carriage, maybe she wouldn't have to marry. But, that logic did not work on a grown woman.

"Dyanna," her father whispered, "Come now. You cannot sit in here forever."

"Father..."

"The King is waiting on you."

Dyanna took a deep breath, and stepped out of the wheelhouse. In front of her, a few yards away, stood House Targaryen. King Viseryes sat in a chair, a golden half mask covering the particularly nasty part of his face. Leprosy, she heard, claimed the king's eye and parts of his cheek. He appeared half out of his mind, someone drooped to one side on his chair with a walking stick. Dyanna pitied him. It must be difficult living in such a condition, where every moment was filled with pain. Beside him was the queen, Queen Alicent, wearing a green silk dress and emerald tiara. She truly was beautiful like people said. A proper queen, she stood tall and proud with the seven-pointed star of The Faith around her neck.

She saw the princess, Helaena, with two blond children at her sides. A dress of pale pink and gold, she seemed shy and timid. Dyanna figured she might as well get to know her, if they'd be sisters soon.

The prince Aegon, Heaena's husband and brother, was beside his father. His square face somewhat cantankerous and sleepy, she saw all the signs of a man post drink. She'd heard vile things about the king's first born; it made her sick considering they might be true after all.

Then, she saw Him. Standing straight, arms crossed behind his back and feet apart, Prince Aemond exuded power and strength. The first thing she saw was the eyepatch he wore on his left eye. She spotted the scars leading out onto his forehead and on his cheekbone. His long blond hair fell down past his shoulders, and shone in the sunlight. Ladies she knew said he scared them. He did not smile or show any emotion other than coldness when she approached. A soldier. That’s what he reminded her of.

Her father, the King and Queen all exchanged pleasantries. When he introduced her, she curtsied and thanked them for inviting them to their home. She was then led down the line, being introduced to the rest of their household. When she reached Aemond, she’ll admit he did frighten her. Not because of his eye, but because of the cold stare in his one good eye. She tried not focusing on the patch. She didn’t want her betrothed thinking her rude. She’d heard he was deadly with a sword, and flew the largest and strongest of their dragons.

“I heard you fly Vhagar,” she said, finding something kind to say.

“I do.”

“She is the mightiest of them. I’ve read all the stories.”

“Hmm.”

She’d punch him if they let her. The King then led them inside, being carried in his chair by footmen, saying they must be tired from their journey. Queen Alicent led them to their quarters herself. She asked after her mother, who she’d met months ago. Dyanna remained polite and cordial like her father expected. She never mentioned her dislike of the city outright. She simply said she found the captial interesting. But, it wasn’t the keep she wished to see.

It was their training yard.

After settling into her quarters, Dyanna slipped into her breeches, shirt and under bust vest. She told her septa she’d be in the yard, to which the woman protested as she rushed out the door. Calling on some of her father’s men, she led the group outside where she heard the familiar sounds of clashing swords. She spotted people watching her as she rushed down the steps into the courtyard. She saw men in leather armor dancing around one another with swords, morningstars, maces, and other weapons. Dyanna smiled, feeling the adrenaline rush beginning to flow through her as she reached the armory section. The man there told her the yard was no place for a lady, to which she and her men chuckled.

“Trust me, good ser, I am more than capable.”

She took up one of the lighter swords. She weighed it in her hand, and flipped it as she tested its balance. She expected nothing less from the King. Dyanna came back into the space, seeing all the men in front of her. She noticed a small crowd gathered around one side of the yard, catching the sight of two figures in the center. She recognized the white blond hair of Prince Aemond, and the dark figure she knew to be Ser Criston Cole, a member of the kingsguard. Dyanna came closer, the people moving aside as they lady appeared. Ser Cole waved around a mace, while the prince did his best to dodge. No, not his best. He expertly moved out of each swing, blocking one with a wooden shield that the weapon broke right through. He tossed the shield aside, and worked with only his sword. Dyanna admitted he was good. It reminded her of her older brother, a great swordsman in his own right. Finally, the prince took one more dodge from the mace and then went around Ser Cole and put his blade to the man’s throat.

“Well done, my prince,” Cole said, yielding to Aemond. “You’ll be winning tourneys in no time.”

“I don’t give a shit about tourneys,” he replied. He flipped is sword handle and turned to Dyanna, “My lady, what brings you here?” He noticed her attire, and appeared confused.

“I wish to see your yard and to train with Ser Cole.”

Ser Cole looked at her quizzically, “Lady Dyanna?”

She smiled, realizing her recognized her, “Hello, Ser Cole. It’s been a while.”

“A very long while,” he agreed. They shook hands, and he turned to Aemond, “Lady Dyanna is quite the swordsman, Your Grace. I saw her spar against one of the Baratheon boys at Maidenpool.”

“A woman wielding a sword?” it was not discouraging or judgmental. He sounded curious, though he tried to hide it. “I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

“My father says I have wolf’s blood in me, Your Grace,” she replied with a grin. “I picked up a sword as a little girl, and never put it down.”

“Your lord father allows it?”

“He does. My mother doesn’t approve exactly, but as long as I keep up with my lessons and womanly duties, she tolerates it.” She looked back to Ser Cole, “I’ve been waiting for us to meet again, I will confess, ser. We never got the chance to go toe-to-toe at Maidenpool.”

“No better time than the present, my lady. That is, if His Grace doesn’t mind?”

Prince Aemond stared her up and down. He studied her, she knew. She tried standing straighter, putting her shoulders back and chin up. “Not at all,” he said, “But none of us are responsible if you are injured.”

“I don’t expect anyone to take responsibility except myself.”

She did her best to not appear disagreeable. Dyanna met men like Aemond all the time. Men who doubted her skills. She enjoyed proving them wrong.

***

It amused him to see her standing there, sword in hand and wearing boiled leather. Not because she was a woman, but because she appeared so confident. When his father told him he’d be marrying Dyanna Stark, his brother Aegon had snorted. “A dragon bedding a she-wolf,” he’d taunted. Aemond didn’t care. He’d marry Dyanna no matter what happened; it was his duty to his house. A person of his station needed to marry well, and who better than a Stark of the North? It allied the crown with the vast, wild North beyond.

People spoke of Dyanna’s tomboyish ways, but they never said anything about her beauty. Gray eyes stared at Ser Cole with determination as they began clashing swords. Brown hair stayed braided back from her face, the long braid swinging behind her. Hours of training must have given her the shape she had, making her stronger and faster. Aemond stood to the side and watched her expert footwork, her swift dodges and fierce blows. He noticed the work Ser Cole put into the fight. Dyanna would not go down easily, he saw. He liked it. House Targaryen needed strong women; not only with their minds, but their bodies. He observed her throughout the tough match. He couldn’t take his eyes off her.

When Dyanna’s sword stuck into Ser Cole’s shield, Aemond expected him to stop due to her being a woman. He’d been wrong. Ser Cole charged at her, and Dyanna rolled out of the way. She grabbed the broken shield Aemond discarded moments ago, and blocked Cole’s next blow. She swung it so his shield went to the side, then took the open opportunity to kick him back. Taking up her fallen sword, she swiped it at the fallen knight, who rolled away in time and stood up. He retrieved his shield, and blocked her next few moves before he swung the shield up into the side of her face. People around his gasped, but Dyanna did not quit. She fell to the ground hard, falling flat on her front before Cole put his blade to her throat.

Dyanna laughed, being lifted to her feet and starting to talk with Cole. He saw the man begin showing her moves he’d used against her, which intrigued him. Perhaps marrying her would not be so bad. If anything, he’d gain a good sparring partner.

“You fight well,” he complimented. “I never expected the rumors about you to be true.”

“What rumors?”

“That the She-Wolf of Winterfell was a fierce as they believe.”

She smiled shyly, “I do well. I’ll never fight in a battle or a war, but I still like knowing how to defend myself.”

He stepped closer, Ser Cole taking the cue to leave them, “But, if you had a husband, you wouldn’t need to defend yourself. He’d protect you.”

She paused, “What if he isn’t around?”

“He’ll always be around.” He twirled his sword in his hand, “Care to spar with me now, my lady?”

She grinned, “I’d be honored, Your Grace.”

Perfect. Absolutely perfect.

***

A/N: thanks for putting this in! I know I took a bit from his fighting scene with Cole, but I really liked that part so I couldn’t help it. I hope you still enjoy it!

#aemond targaryen #aemond x oc #aemond one eye #aemond the kinslayer #house of the dragon #hotd #hotd drabbles #hotd fanfiction #got #game of thrones #asoiaf

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