#men’s hair brush and comb set

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Cover Up

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1k

Warnings: implied smut

Summary: You hooked up with someone expecting to keep him as a one-and-done. You didn't expect him to show up at your college.

Square Filled: "You are one fine specimen, and I'm not saying that because I'm drunk.” for @spencerreidbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

Shit. Shit. Shit. You’re so late. You can’t be late for your first day of college. You had a bit too much to drink last night which caused you to sleep in longer than you wanted to. You’re so late that you didn’t have time to do your makeup. Eh, you can do it when you get to school. The drive is only thirty minutes but with morning traffic, it takes forty-five.

Meet me in the bathroom by the cafeteria! Emergency! You send to your best friend.

You rush from your car all the way to the bathroom before anyone else has a chance to see how messed up you look. You have everything you need in your backpack to fix your look, and you almost cringe at yourself when you look in the mirror.

“Man, I need to stop drinking,” you shake your head.

You take out your brush and comb your hair when Madison walks in.

“Y/N?”

“Over here.”

“Are you okay? What happened?”

“I woke up late. I didn’t have time to do my makeup. I need to use yours.”

“You texted me this is an emergency. I blew off Jason just to come here.”

“Mads, this is an emergency. Look at me. I can’t go to class looking like this. I still have pimples on my face. Can I use your makeup or not?”

“Of course.” She sets her backpack on the counter and takes out the massive bag containing everything she needs for a full face of makeup. It’s a damn good thing you’re the exact shade as her. “Why’d you wake up late?”

“I was out late last night.”

“And?”

“Why does there have to be an and?”

“Bitch, I know you.”

“I had too much to drink,” you sigh.

“There it is,” she laughs. “Who’d you do?”

“Why does there have to be a guy?” you chuckle and look at her. She raises an eyebrow as if you could actually fool her. “Okay, I don’t know his name. I was too busy making out with him to ask.”

“Do tell,” she smirks. You grab an elastic and put your hair up to have it out of the way while you do your makeup. She gasps when she sees the dark purple marks on your neck. “What the fuck are those?”

“So, they’re noticeable?”

“Noticeable? It looks like he was trying to suck your blood. God damn.”

“Mads, when I tell you this man was so fine, I mean it. I thought he was shy and awkward because he had that look about him, but he was the complete opposite. He took me to the back where the bathrooms were and had his way with me. God, he was so big,” you gasp.

“Tell me you got his number.”

“His friends came and got him before we could say anything. I don’t even know his name. I had to go home and put my vibrator to good use even after the orgasms he gave me.”

“Okay, new mission in life, find that man. It’s been a while since you let someone ruffle your feathers.”

“Yeah,” you chuckle.

You grab what you need and cover your marks as much as you can. They’re so dark that the foundation can’t cover it completely, but with your hair down, it’s manageable. Once you feel like you can walk out in public, you hand everything back to her.

“Okay, we’re good to go. Thank you.”

“Anytime,” she winks.

You take one look at yourself and remember what it was like to have his hands on your body.

You’ve never done this with a stranger before. Sure, you’ve had public sex before but nothing like this. None of your flings had this much passion. You’ve only met this man not even an hour ago and his tongue is down your throat.

There is a family bathroom next to the men’s and women’s restrooms, so he shoves you into that one and locks the door behind him. He grabs your hips and lifts you so that you can wrap your legs around his slender waist. He shoves his hand between your legs as his lips trail down your neck.

“You are one fine specimen, and I'm not saying that because I'm drunk,” you moan.

All you can focus on is the way his fingers are rubbing on your clothed clit and how his lips are sucking on your neck.

“Y/N!” You snap out of your trance and look at her. “We’re going to be late. Come on.”

“Right.”

You two leave the bathroom and head in the direction of your first class, Criminal Justice 101.

“Tell me what he looks like. It’ll help me try to find him.”

“Curly brown hair, brown eyes, very tall, slim build, and he was wearing a sweater vest. Not what you’d think he’d be like. He knew what he was doing, that’s for sure,” you chuckle. “I don’t know anything about him.”

“You just know what his tongue and cock feels like.”

“Madison!” You look away once and run into someone who is reading a book. “Watch where you’re going.”

“That is no way to speak to a professor, young lady.”

You look back and see the Dean of the school escorting one of the new professors. You lock eyes with the new professor with wide eyes. He’s the man you fucked last night. He recognizes you but doesn’t say anything about it. Madison can guess what happened based on how you’re looking at him.

“Sorry,” you mumble.

“No, it was my fault,” he chuckles.

“Come, Dr. Reid. I’ll show you to Criminal Justice 101.”

“Wait, you’re teaching that class?” you ask, stopping the two men from leaving.

“Yeah.”

Madison grabs your shoulders and grins at Dr. Reid.

“Lucky for us, we’re your students.”

“Can’t wait,” he chuckles.

The Dean leaves expecting Dr. Reid to follow but the young doctor leans closer to you so you’re the only one who hears him.

“It’s a shame you covered them up. I’ll just have to make more.”

Your mouth drops open as he jogs to catch up with the Dean. You’re totally fucked. It’ll make class more interesting though.

x

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#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fan fic #spencer reid fan fiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fluff #cm #cm fic #cm fanfiction #cm fanfic #cm fluff

[scribendis]

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐰𝐨𝐨𝐝

Aemond Targaryen x female reader (third person perspective) ❖ husband & wife

Warnings: smut, dry humping, p in v sex, semi-public sex, newlyweds being horny, little bit of profanity, breeding kink if you squint really, really hard Rating: 18+ MDNI Word count: ~3,500

Summary: Upon returning to camp from a hunt in the Kingswood, Aemond looks for a way to keep his wife warm on a bitterly cold night.

A/N: Serendipitously conceptualized ages ago but written (very late!) for the first week of the @hotd-bigbang winter word prompts challenge - Fire | Furs | Forest

Dividers by @saradika | AO3 link

The setting sun cast long shadows across the small city of tents that made up the hunting camp in the Kingswood. While the men had spent the day combing the forest for boars, stags, and other game, the women had occupied the main tent. They gorged themselves on cakes and other sweets, all the while indulging in gossip that ranged from the salacious to the downright treasonous. 

And, much to the chagrin of the new wife of Prince Aemond Targaryen, they pestered her endlessly about the burgeoning love life of her and her husband. She quickly learned that, to be a woman in the king’s court meant sharing every last, excruciating detail of one’s “wifely duties” so that the others could compare them with their own. So that they could all know whose husbands fucked them the best and complain about their own lackluster experiences. 

They questioned her until she was beet-red in the face and one of the older women finally called for an end to her torment. Still, it would taste a lie for her to say that all their titillating conversation about lovemaking had not made her ache desperately for her husband. 

But by the time that night finally claimed the sprawling camp, the men had still not returned from the hunt. It signaled to the waiting wives that their husbands would come back without their prize, frustrated and exhausted - and that they would later fall into their beds reeking of wine. 

The call of horns and the distant sound of barking hounds was their cue to don their furs and exit the tent to greet the arriving men. The prince’s wife was glad for the fur-lined cloak that her husband had procured for her for just such an occasion as this. She was even more grateful for the garment as she exited the tent only to be met with the sting of the cold night air on her cheek. The women elected to wait for their husbands by the bonfire that raged in the middle of the camp, its light their only source of warmth as frost began to settle on the Kingswood. 

It was easy for her to spot her husband among the group of riders, his long silver hair unmistakable in the light of the rising moon. Whatever otherworldly quality his Valyrian features gave him seemed amplified tonight - and it made the sight of him astride a horse even more odd to her. Were her husband any other lord of the realm, his approach on horseback would not have seemed out of place. But Targaryens were no horse riders. Still, Aemond effortlessly commanded the steed beneath him, his mastery reminiscent of the way he would handle a dragon.

As the crowd of riders began to disperse, her eyes remained fixed on her husband. Amid the thundering of horses’ hooves and the raucous laughter of the noble lords, Aemond's attention, too, was solely focused on her. The intensity of his gaze only intensified her excitement, eliciting a gentle flutter in her belly.

With grace and ease, Aemond slipped off of the horse’s back. A waiting servant took his leather riding gloves from him, but Aemond could very well have let them fall to the dirt for as little attention as he paid to anyone but her. 

Aemond was always loath to indulge in any public affection, aside from the occasional hand at the small of his wife’s back or a brief touch upon her cheek. Even now that he was reunited with her after such a long day apart, his restraint came in the form of a soft kiss brushed against her temple and nothing more. But the way that his arm wrapped around her and his hand dared to wander much lower than her waist - and the way his eye held hers so intently - told her just how much he had missed her. How much he needed her.

Given Aemond’s usually stoic demeanor, she had never thought that he would be needy, but he had proven to be just that in the few weeks since they had been wed. They had already made love in the depths of the palace library more times than she could count, and discovered countless other hidden places throughout the Keep where his hands had found their way up her skirts and his lips had left marks on her neck. Some mornings, he would forego training altogether to stay in bed with her with his face between her legs or his cock buried inside her. 

And he had not heard a single complaint from her yet. 

“Ābrazȳrys, your skin is cold to the touch,” Aemond commented, a hint of concern lacing his soft voice. His lips lingered at her temple for a moment longer before he withdrew, taking one of her hands in his. “As are your fingers.” (wife)

She smiled. His own hand was as warm as ever. “I am no dragon like you, dear husband. The cold night air chills me to the bone.”

“And the furs I gave you do not suffice?” he asked, quirking a brow.

She shook her head. “Nor the bonfire.” 

Aemond hummed, his displeasure at such an assurance quite clear. He brought her fingers to his lips, blowing warm air on them before kissing them. “Come, jorrāeliarza. I have another idea for how we might offer you some warmth on such a cold night.” (beloved)

Still with an arm drawn around her, he swiftly guided her around the bonfire and, to her surprise, past the royal tent where food, wine, and music awaited them. She glanced over her shoulder questioningly at the entrance to the tent, from which poured an inviting golden light, but Aemond seemed determined on his path. 

“Aemond, are we… not going inside?” 

A smirk tugged at his lips, and she noticed a mischievous twinkle in his eye as they passed a flickering torch. “I thought I would spare you any further conversation with the ladies of the court.”

“And I thank you for that, dear husband,” she said with a laugh, her words falling from her lips in fleeting clouds of mist that looked like she was breathing smoke. “But I do not think–”

Aemond stopped them in their tracks and turned to her, staying any further words by sweeping in to press his lips firmly against hers. “Lykirī.” (Be calm.)

Once freed from his bruising kiss, she stood, dazed, for a moment before any further thoughts could come to her - something that her husband had certainly noticed given the grin that spread across his lips. She pushed him away playfully with a little scoff and an over-exaggerated look of annoyance that drew a rare chuckle from him.

“I am not one of your Targaryen dragons,” she protested, drawing her furs tighter around herself. “Those… dragon commands won’t work on me.”

Aemond leaned in to meet her at eye level, offering an arm to her that she took. “But it did work, did it not?”

She was still none the wiser about their destination as her husband quickly guided them beyond the boundaries of the camp and toward the treeline. The leaves had taken on stunning hues of red, orange, and yellow, a sight that she had marveled at from within the wheelhouse on their way into the Kingswood that morning. But in the cover of night, that beauty was lost to the pitch-black darkness. Not even the light of the moon could permeate the thick canopy of trees, leaving the forest an endless void. 

She did not fear the darkness, only the occasional sound of a twig snapping or the call of some unknown creature. As husband and wife disappeared from the sight of the camp, she found herself clutching onto him more tightly. 

“Aemond, where are we going?” she whispered as though speaking at full volume would topple one of the mighty trees. 

“Patience, jorrāeliarza.”

“What if there are wolves out here, Aemond–”

“There are no predators in the Kingswood. And, if there were,” Aemond turned to her and took her chin between his thumb and forefinger, brushing the pad of his thumb across her bottom lip, “do you think that I would let them harm even a single hair on your head?” He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead before releasing her. “Do not worry. We can stop here.”

She glanced around, seeing the pleasant glow of the camp in the near distance and nothing but darkness everywhere else. “Here?” 

“I thought, perhaps, you would want to be a bit further from camp…” he purred. Her eyes had adjusted to the darkness enough to see him lean in. One of his hands reached up to pull her furs aside and his lips found her neck, warm and soft as they began to kiss her skin. She felt his hum vibrate against her pulse point, where her heartbeat fluttered wildly. “Given how loud you can be, dōna ābrazȳrys.”

A gasp left her and her head tilted away from his lips, begging silently for more. Tomorrow would call for yet another dress with a high neckline, she thought. 

“I’ve… I’ve not heard that one before…” He regularly called her all manner of names in High Valyrian. She often found him muttering to himself in his ancestral tongue. One night, he had even spoken it in his sleep. She knew a small handful of words, but only those few. “What does that mean?”

“Sweet wife,” Aemond breathed against her neck, leaving a bit of warmth behind before his lips captured hers once again. “You taste sweet tonight, too.”

“It must be the… the wine, I think,” she gasped. “Or the lemon cakes…” 

But the growing hunger inside him was not for the sweetness of cakes or Arbor gold. 

He kissed her more deeply this time, lips coaxing hers apart to taste her tongue for himself. His hands fell to her hips, fingers digging into her soft flesh to draw her body against his. And, in doing so, he finally offered her the warmth he had previously promised her - one that not even the hottest bonfire could provide. 

As his fingers began to deftly ruck up her skirts, she felt her skin prickle. At the same time, an entirely different kind of heat began to spread through her until it found its familiar place between her legs. Moaning softly into their continued kiss, she dropped her hands to the closure of his trousers, where his obvious arousal strained against the dark fabric. 

“Gods, Aemond, you're so hard and I've barely touched you," she breathed against his lips. “Did you miss me?” But she knew the answer, and how pleasing it was to know just how badly she had been missed that day. 

His only reply was a grunt that rose in his throat as his hands slipped beneath her smallclothes and all but tore them from her. Despite the rough, calloused spots on his palms and fingers, his warm touch was a balm against the cold night air. In a swift, almost aggressive motion, he lifted her by her arse so that she had no choice but to envelop his hips with her legs. It taunted her, the feeling of his hard cock pressing against her wet entrance. His trousers were a tedious, unwanted barrier between them. 

Their passionate embrace only became more heated as Aemond pinned her to the trunk of one of the trees and his body pressed firmly against hers. She squirmed, inadvertently causing friction between her clit and his still-clothed hardness that was too delicious to keep a moan from stuttering past her lips. 

“It would seem that you missed me as well, jorrāeliarza,” he rasped with a playful smirk. Teasingly, he rolled his hips against hers to coax another one of those sweet sounds from her. “Come on. Take what you need.”

She needed no further convincing, as great as the ache between her legs had grown. Her grip on the collar of his longcoat tightened and she took over, rocking her hips against his at a slow, but steady, pace. Each gasp and moan that left her lips billowed from them in a smoke-like mist, until she tucked her head into the crook of her husband’s neck and the sounds became muffled against his throat. He smelled of horse and sweat and, if she searched for it, the soap he had used the night before. But he tasted divine as her lips began to pepper open-mouthed kisses against his skin.

Judging by the trembling breaths that she felt against her hair, this teasing was just as pleasurable for her husband as it was for her. His own grip on her arse tightened, as though he was fighting to hold on. Knowing him, he wanted only the satisfaction of spilling himself inside her. 

But his own torture would not go on for much longer, as her rutting against him was quickly bringing her to the brink of release. Her pace quickened, desperate as she was to reach it. Finally, the pleasure inside her began to unfurl and its warmth spread through her. From head to toe, it enveloped her completely as though she had been submerged into a hot bath.   

It was exactly as Aemond had promised. In the grips of her climax, the frigid air mattered little, if at all.

Gasping for breath as she came down again, she pressed her lips to his and he received her kiss greedily. No doubt he was desperate for his own release after watching her come apart - and how could she refuse him?

“You know,” she began as her hands fell to his trousers once again. Only, this time, her fingers made quick work of the closures. “Earlier, all the women wanted to know how good you are in bed.”

Their gazes locked and, even in the darkness of the forest, she could see the almost animalistic desire in his one good eye. But as desperate as he was to be inside her, he seemed almost equally as intrigued by her words. She freed his cock from the confines of his trousers and took it into her hand. Her simple act of stroking him once was enough to draw a low groan out of him.

“Fucking gossips,” Aemond replied huskily. His lips drew close to hers but did not quite meet them. “Do I wish to know what you told them?”

She grinned. Her fingers guided his cock to her slick entrance but stopped there momentarily. “I told them–” Her words were cut off by a moan as he buried himself inside her quickly and without warning. “Oh, fuck…”

“Oh, fuck?” Aemond repeated teasingly, raising a brow. “Am I so bad at it, jorrāeliarza?” The smug look of satisfaction on his face belied any attempts at fooling her into thinking that he believed that to be her true confession earlier that day. 

Too impatient, he began to move his hips against hers - and she met each of his slow, steady thrusts with movements of her own. Misty air surrounded them amid their shared panting, both of them relishing in the sensation of becoming one again after such a long day apart.

She allowed her head to fall back against the tree, where strands of her hair began to tangle in its rough bark. But she hardly noticed or cared at all, especially as her husband’s lips reclaimed her neck and his hot breaths swept along the contours of her jaw. 

“Ābrazȳrys.”

She became so lost in the carnal pleasure of his cock sliding in and out of her that Aemond’s voice barely reached her. It did not help at all that his pace began to quicken as the heat between them grew to a simmer. The cry of pleasure that left her mingled with the sounds of the forest, joining the nighttime symphony of hooting owls and the rustling of the crisp underbrush.

“What did you tell them?” Aemond pressed. His own composure was starting to fail him and his words came out strained. 

A breathy laugh left her. He always purported to care little about what the members of his father’s court thought of him. But, evidently, that sentiment did not extend to his wife and her opinions. 

She placed a hand on his cheek to pull his lips to hers, kissing him deeply as pleasure began to coil inside her anew. “I told them,” she panted, her eyes opening to meet his, “that my husband is not the one riding the largest dragon in the world.”

Whatever Aemond had expected her to say, it clearly was not that. For a moment, his hips stilled and he looked as stunned as the ladies had been when she had uttered those same words that morning. One of them had even spilled a full cup of wine down her pale blue dress as she stared at her like some startled animal. 

“My, my…” he purred.

But his look of shock fell away just as quickly. Replacing it was a ferocity that she had never seen from him before. A hunger that her words had awakened inside him which only she could satiate. There were no more soft words of love, or the usual names he called her while making love to her. His fingers dug almost painfully into her hips and he resumed his movements against her. 

Aemond quickly built up a brutal pace, the head of his cock hitting that spot inside her that made her toes curl inside her shoes. Any thoughts or complaints about how bitterly cold it was outside had been long forgotten, drunk as she was on the intensity of the pleasure he was fucking into her her. Even her moans began to leave her in choked gasps and broken mewls that, if anyone in the hunting camp heard her, would have sounded no different than the calls of some creature of the forest.

She could feel it, the straining of her muscles and the tightening of her insides. The tremble that overtook her as she hurtled toward the edge along with him. She felt like a handkerchief being squeezed of water, and he would not stop his tightening of her until he had wrung her of every last drop.  

Her eyes fluttering, she leaned in to capture Aemond’s lips in a kiss that he did not reciprocate in his own carnal pursuit of release. “Aemond…” “Mm-mm,” he chided, his tone gruffer and far lower than she had ever heard it. “I want to see you.” 

One of his hands released its grip on her arse and moved to the nape of her neck to hold her firmly and ensure she could not look away. As he watched her, he groaned deeply in his own fight to hold on until he could get precisely what he wanted. 

And it only took three simple words from him to finish her at last.

“Cum for me.” 

Like a dam breaking, all the building pleasure that had been twisting inside her released. Coaxed by the continued pounding of his hips against hers, it spread into every extremity as her body shuddered and her cries of ecstasy filled the dense, frosty air. The fluttering of her walls around him soon spelled the end for him, too. With a few more ragged thrusts, he found his release inside her.

His eye squeezed shut. His lips, kiss-swollen, parted. And then, a certain look of peace overtook him.  

Although still lost in her own haze of pleasure, she watched him closely - and she decided that he had never looked more beautiful. 

They remained in their loving embrace, neither one wanting to pull away from the other just yet. Her, with her legs still encircling his hips, and him, with one hand holding her up and the other at her neck. Aemond pressed his forehead to hers and his thumb began to caress her cheek tenderly.

She hadn’t spoken of these moments to the women of the court that day. About how her husband could fuck her within an inch of her life and, immediately thereafter, treat her with such affection and softness. With such devotion in each caress of his fingers and every soft word he uttered.

Their breathing soon began to slow once again and the world around them finally came back into view. Smiling, she brushed the tip of her nose against his before kissing him so deeply that he hummed in surprise. But he reciprocated earnestly, slowly setting her back down on the ground but never quite letting her go.

“We should return to the camp,” Aemond said as he re-adjusted her furs on her shoulders. “I would not have you catch your death out here in the cold, jorrāeliarza.”

A sweet grin spread across her lips, but something wicked glistened in her eyes. “Oh, but my husband has already given me all the warmth I require.”

#hotd winter prompts 23 #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond x reader #hotd aemond #aemond fanfiction #house of the dragon aemond #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x you #aemond smut #aemond fic #hotd smut #hotd fanfiction #hotd fanfic #hotd #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen smut #aemond #ewan mitchell fics #ewan mitchell fanfic #house of the dragon fic #house of the dragon fanfic #house of the dragon #ewan mitchell #works by laurel

[justagirlwholikesadam]

Realm's Delight

Summary: You were the twin of the dark haired child Cersei had with Robert. While fever took your twin, you survived. You are known throughout the seven kingdom as the realm's delight. The years has passed and your younger brother Joffrey wants something you have. Sandor Clegane x Baratheon! Reader

A/n: Don't hate me. Enjoy -L

Warning: Death, murder, Joffrey is Joffrey, the angst is real af, suicide

Word Count: 12.8k

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Chapter 3

Losing Sandor felt like you were drowning in an abyss of loneliness, you felt like you were being stabbed in the chest multiple times with each breath you took. The servants grew worried when you locked yourself in your chambers. They knocked and asked if you needed something. You just shouted you needed to be alone. You were in bed, under the blankets with your face under the pillow when you heard one of the servants mention Sandor’s name. 

“He will get her.” 

“You didn’t hear. He’s Joffrey’s guard now.” The servants grew quiet and you heard them walk away from the door. You begin to ponder on what you have done to upset Sandor so much for him to leave you. Everything was going great, plans were set and you were ready to leave this wretched place. You let out a sob at the thought of your mother. She had told you men only wanted one thing from a women but Sandor was never like that. You were the first to touch him. You were the first to kiss him and you were the first to tell him that you loved him. 

You had to leave your room the next day. The servants had told you that your father requested your presence for breakfast. The servants glanced at one another as you kept quiet while they helped you dress for the day and comb your hair. You felt one of them behind you finishing a braid and placed her hands on your shoulders. 

“Look at you, princess. You look beautiful.” She told you. You look ahead at the mirror and look at yourself. She gave you a smile but you kept the same stoic expression. She had braided your hair and left a few strands to frame your face. They had picked out a light blue dress with white lace on the hem of the dress. You remained silent as you walked out of the room to meet your father. Entering the hall you came to a halt when you saw Joffrey sitting next to your father already eating. Your father sat at the head of the table, Robert’s dark eyes widened at the sight of you. Waving for you to come, you walked inside. You glance back at Joffrey and feel your heart drop at the sight of Sandor standing by the wall behind him. Sandor kept looking forward with a straight face. 

You quickly walked to your father, leaning down to kiss his pudgy cheek. Thanking one of the male servants who pulled your chair for you, you sat on the right side of your father. 

“I didn’t see you yesterday, dear.” Robert said as your plate was being served and Robert’s cup was being filled with more wine. 

“Forgive me, father. I was tired from walking around King’s Landing. I mostly slept and needed much rest. I apologize for troubling you especially during these times.” You had come up with the lie yesterday and knew if you apologized enough he would brush this over. 

“This war.” Robert said before taking a drank from his wine. 

“This war is the last thing on my mind. You are what matters.” You tried to ignore Joffrey’s face. Joffrey’s eyes grew hard and his thin lips turned into a frown at Robert’s word.

“What’s the matter?” Robert asked when he saw how down you looked. Sandor watched the servants glancing at one another waiting for your response. Robert kept his eyes on you when you didn't respond right away. “I think I'm coming down with something. Don’t feel well.” 

“Someone bring a maester.” Robert yelled at the servants. “Eat. The maids told me you haven't left your chambers yesterday.” His words were soft and you nodded looking down at the plate. 

“Probably caught something from feeding those peasants. That's what you get for being so close to those animals.” Joffrey said, stabbing his fork into his food. 

Before Robert could speak you answered your brother. “They are not animals. They are humans just like us.” 

“You have spent so much time with them. You have gone mad. Perhaps from being very close to one.” Joffrey said with a smirk. Sandor for the first time in his life, prayed. He prayed to whatever the fuck was up in the heavens to listen to him. He hoped King Robert didn’t think there was any meaning behind Joffrey’s words. The servants and knights watched as Joffrey and you glared at each other. 

“ENOUGH.” Robert shouted at Joffrey. You remained quiet thinking what he meant. Looking at Joffrey, your eyes glance up at Sandor. You wanted to cry all over again, he had his usual scowl and his eyes were hard. He couldn't even look at you. He didn't want to, he knew he would break character. He would rather be punished than have you think he didn’t love you but he couldn't have you get hurt. 

“Is there a reason why you have Sandor as your guard now?” Sandor’s heart dropped to the floor at Robert’s question. “I’m sure my sister would like to answer that.” Joffrey said, trying his best to hide his smile.

You wanted to throw the plate of food at your brother’s face. You didn't know what to say. How can you tell your father that Sandor had broken your heart after being together for years. You didn't want Sandor to be punished or worse, executed for being with you. Sandor had hurt badly but you still loved him.  Clearing your throat, you look over at your father. You told the lie you came up with. A lie that would change your life forever. 

“I think it’s time for me to get married.” Joffrey and Robert frowned. 

“I won't be able to do that. Like mother said, that d-man is always behind me.” You had refused to call Sandor a dog. You wouldn't do it even if you were angry at him for leaving you.  Joffrey leans back against his chair and gives you a glare. 

“I see.” Robert said looking unsure. You had to make sure your father believed you. For Sandor’s sake and yours. If Sandor didn't want you then you would leave King’s Landing. 

“I will write to my betrothed in Dorne and ask if he still wants our houses to be joined.” Robert gave you a look still not believing since you fought so hard to not be married. 

“This will be a good thing. Dorne's army had risen as well their weapons. Houses are sliding with your brother, father. We need the manpower. I know Dorne will keep me safe. You have done so much for me, father. Let me help you in the only way I can. I must marry.” You finished with a nod looking at Robert seriously. Joffrey was angry when Robert yelled at him but the look Robert gave you infuriated Joffrey. Robert looked proud at you. 

“Spoken well, my dear. Dorne is fortunate to have a true, strong Baratheon.” Robert gave you a smile and quickly rose up saying he will write to Drone himself about this matter. 

“Dog, let’s go.” Joffrey shouted, throwing his fork on the table after Robert left in a hurry to write the letter. Force of habit, you were about to yell at Joffrey for calling Sandor a dog but you remembered he wasn’t your guard anymore. Sandor isn’t your lover or your guard or your friend anymore. You look over when Sandor begins to walk behind Joffrey. Blinking the unshed tears away, you took a deep breath. You were alone at the table. You can feel the eyes of the servants behind you, waiting for your next move. 

“May I have wine, please?” You asked and quickly a cup was placed in front of you. A servant came beside you and leaned forward to fill your cup. 

“Thank you.” Your voice was soft as you grabbed the cup. Staring at the red liquid inside of it, you wondered why Cersei drank so much. Is this why your father drank so heavily? Both of them were unhappy with their life so they drank. No one said a word when you drank the cup completely, drank it in a hurry that it spilled from the corner of your mouth and dripped down to your dress, staining it. When you were done, you asked for another and another. They kept their silence when you stood up without touching your plate, disregarding the maester that came in. With the cup in your hand, you began to walk out of the room to your bed chambers. 

Your days were spent like that. Waking up and asking for a pitcher of wine. You stayed in your room for hours, with no human contact, just your books and wines. At night, you cried yourself to sleep. Dreams of being with Sandor and nightmares of him screaming that he never did love you woke you up. 

“Lord Baelish.” You greeted him when you opened the door of your chambers after you heard a knock. He stood outside your door with a smile and his hands clasped behind him. 

“Princess, I haven’t seen you in days. How are you doing?” 

“I’m alright.” He gives you a nod before stepping close to you. 

“We should walk in the garden, princess. I have some news.” Your eyes widened and you nodded at him. Lord Baelish waited outside with the new guard appointed to you by your father. The guard was a young man, not tall as Sandor but he had a kind face. Walking side by side with Lord Baelish and the guard a few feet behind. Lord Baelish filled you in with the war. The last battle wasn’t going well for your father, he was losing men and Dorne hasn't responded yet with his letter. 

“You wanted to know if the Hound was doing alright, correct?” Lord Baelish asked, looking over at you as you stopped in front of a bench. 

“That is right, I care for all the servants.” You said getting close to him, you didn't want him to grow suspicious on why you were so interested in Sandor. Lord Baelish froze when you placed a hand on his chest. Playing with the buttons of his shirt, you grabbed his hand and pulled him down to sit with you on the bench. 

“I care for all my friends as well.” You said as you pulled Lord Baelish’s hand on your lap. His hand were so different from Sandor. Lord Baelish hands were soft and small with no evidence that he has done manual labor in his entire life. Running your fingers over his knuckles, you wished it was Sandor. Sandor’s hands were a gift from the Seven. His hands are large, fingers are thick and rough. He had scars and calluses on his hands from working and fighting. You pressed your thighs together when you remember how big they felt inside of you. The way you drooled on them when Sandor was making love to you.  

“Good princess, keep sucking on them.” You let out a deep breath and let Lord Baelish’s hand go. 

“You’re far too kind, Princess. You amaze me everyday.” You look over at him with a smile. You felt bile coming up your throat at the look he gave you. 

“Sandor is doing well. Joffrey and him visited the brothel last week. Sandor fucked a whore bloodily. He has become quite the beast since he started to guard your brother.” 

You felt an arrow being shot in your chest by his words. Sandor was at a brothel. Sandor was sleeping with another woman who wasn't you. You wanted to cry all over again. You began to wonder if Sandor had been with anyone else when he was with you. The nights you shared your bed with him, was he sharing his with another? Did those lips you love so much were on someone else's lips? 

“Lord Baelish, do forgive me. I have forgotten that my mother asked to see me before dinner. I must see her. She said it was rather important.” You rambled as you got up from the bench. 

“Farewell, my dear friend.” Lord Baelish was starstruck when you placed a kiss on his chin before walking away without waiting for his response. He kept his gaze on you, watching you walk away. 

“Princess, if he has done something. Tell me right now.” Your guard said when saw you in tears. He had taken his helmet off and kneel in front of you when you barged into your chambers in tears. 

“I swear it. I will kill him.” You look at your guard who held a concerned look on his young face.  When he was about to rise up to leave the room. You held on to his shoulder, you quickly removed your hand.

“Please don’t. Lord Baelish hasn’t done anything. He just brought me sad news.” The guard nodded before looking down at the ground. 

“I’m sorry, princess. Let me know if you need anything. I’ll help you.” Wiping your tears with the back of your hand. You glance at the guard who kept his gaze on the ground below you. 

“Thank you. What’s your name?” The guard looks up. “It’s Felix, princess.” You nodded at him. 

“Well Felix, would you like to join me for some tea?” You asked since he was so kind to you. He rose a brow at you in shock by your invite. “Or you can have some wine or ale. Whatever your choice is, it's yours.” You added just realizing now how ridiculous it is, that a knight will drink some tea. 

“Are you always this nice?” His question caught you by surprise. You noticed he was staring at you. His eyes had a pretty shade of blue, his nose and lips were thin. 

“I try to be but now I’m thinking I should change that.” Felix saw how your eyes dropped down to the ground. “You shouldn’t. There’s not enough nice people in the seven kingdoms. I’m happy that I am guarding one of them.” You smiled at his words. 

“Tea does sound good but I would prefer ale.” He told you as he rose up from the ground. 

“Then you shall have ale, Ser Felix.” 

The days went on and Ser Felix made it manageable. The servants seemed to be happy that you were talking again but once in a while they would find you staring off in the distance. Word of Sandor’s vicious attitude has gotten around the castle. Joffrey has grown to be more aggressive to the servants and to the people around him. You had refused to look at Joffrey and Sandor. It has been a few weeks and you haven’t spoken to either of them. Whenever you walked down the hallway, you kept your gaze ahead and if you happened to meet Sandor and Joffrey, you passed them like they didn’t exist. You ignored Joffrey as he taunted you while making your way with Ser Felix behind you. 

Sandor kept staring at the new guard, Ser Felix was strapping a saddle on a horse. Sandor was behind a pillar as the servants came up to Ser Felix and handed him a large satchel. Sandor knew you were going to walk again, giving food out. He felt ridiculous for being jealous that you were going with the new guard instead of him. He always went with you when doing that. Sandor thought he could handle being Joffrey’s guard. He couldn't, it took all the strength in him to not strangle the prince. He had gotten used to sitting down with you and eating meals with you but Joffrey didn’t care if he ate or rested. Joffrey would call him a dog or worse snap his fingers at him and because of it. His attitude changed more, he was more angry. 

He was furious that he was taken away from you. Furious that the new guard you had, is so close to you. Sandor had watched you and Ser Felix walking in the garden. You drank tea, while your guard drank a cup of ale. He kept updates on you, your servants were kind enough to fill him in. He felt horrible when they told him you barely ate and you weren't yourself but you were getting better now with Ser Felix. News of the prince of Drone arriving at King’s Landing had broken him. He was drinking in his new chambers that Joffrey provided him. It was half of a room now and the bed was uncomfortable. Sandor knows the prince will wed you and will take you away from here. Away from him. Joffrey had taken him to a whorehouse to celebrate the prince coming to take you away. Joffrey did it to hurt him and it did. “Go find yourself a new bitch, dog.” 

Sandor obeyed him and grabbed the nearest girl from her wrist. He didn’t look at her or asked her for her name. Sandor ignored the girl who was sitting on the bed waiting for him but he sat by the corner of the room with a cup of ale. The girl grew worried when Sandor didn’t move from his spot, he just kept staring at the ground as he drank. After an hour had passed and the girl flinched when Sandor finally rose up from his chair. The pitcher near him was empty and the sun was setting. He walked towards the bed and threw two silver coins near her.

“If they ask you, tell them I fucked you bloody. You hear me, girl? If you don’t say that. I’ll fucking kill you.” Sandor snapped at her and she nodded at him. 

There was a relieved look on her face when she realized Sandor was really not going to do anything to her. He was about to walk out the room when he froze and grabbed a dragger from his belt. The girl let out a whimper when Sandor raised the dragger. She saw Sandor slicing the bottom edge of his palm, just enough for him to bleed. She flinched when Sandor walked towards her and yelped when he pushed her back and lifted her skirt. She felt him wipe his blood on inner thighs. She pushed herself up when Sandor left the room without saying another word. Sandor walked out of the whorehouse and saw Joffrey had waited for him outside the establishment, in a carriage. He brought the window down and had a handkerchief over his nose and mouth. Sandor wanted to roll his eyes. Joffrey still hadn’t gotten used to the smell of the shit city. 

“How was your new bitch?” Joffrey asked as Sandor walked closer to him. “Tight.” Sandor answered as he signaled Stranger to come forward. He just wanted to go back to his room and be alone. He wanted to sleep because at least he’s with you in his dreams. 

Sandor watched as the new guard gave you a smile as you walked towards him, you were ready for the day. You had a light brown dress on. He left when you began to walk with the new guard. Trying to ignore the horrible gut feeling in his stomach. Few hours later he stood behind Joffrey as the prince was with his father in a council meeting. Robert was in the middle of talking when the door opened with a bang. One of the king's guards came running inside. Robert was about to yell at the guard when the guard announced something that turned Sandor’s blood cold. 

“There was a riot, your grace. The princess was giving them food when it broke out. We found her guard, he’s been killed. Ripped limb from limb. We can’t find the princess.” 

Robert rose from his seat and began to yell for every knight to search the city. “I want every house, every building searched.” He screamed as Marcella and Tommen were being comforted by Cersei. 

“Stay here, dog.” Joffrey commanded him after Robert said every available knight must go. “My pri-“ “Stay put!” Joffrey yelled at Sandor cutting hm off as he looked out the balcony. 

Sandor could hear the screams of the people as the knights barged into their homes. Flipping it inside out then leaving for the next spot. He knew the feeling in his gut was right, something bad did happened. His eyes widened when he saw Jamie Lannister and his group walking up the hill. Jamie was carrying you. You laid unconscious in his arms.  Jamie had found you after an older woman and her daughter saved you and hid you in their house. Sandor stared at the woman and her daughter as they were brought into question. They stood in the middle of the court and explained Robert what had happened. Sandor looked down to see the daughter’s feet. She wore your shoes that you had gifted her. 

“It’s the war, your grace. With barely enough food going around, they became crazy. Everything was going well. The princess was handling food when the people from flea bottom started to cut the line.” 

The woman started to tear up as she continued. “She tried her best to calm them. She didn’t want the children to get hurt. They ignored her and took her guard. She tried to help him.” 

“She cried out to them to stop as they began to beat him and started to pull his limbs.” The woman let out a deep breath. Her daughter rubbed her back for comfort.

“That’s when the riot broke out. The city split into two. Many tried to protect her, we love her, your grace” Robert stared at the woman below him as she confessed their love for you. 

“We love the Princess. Is she alright? We are all worried for her.” The woman began to cry loudly as she fell on her knees in front of the court. 

Sandor snuck into your bed chamber in the middle of the night when you haven’t woken up in two days. Robert usually left at night after spending his morning and afternoon in your room. Something changed in the drunken king after the incident with you. Robert punished the flea bottom for it, he gave rewards to anyone who knew who started the riot. Sandor shuts the door behind him carefully making his way towards you. He can hear your soft breathing. He freezes at the sight of you. You’re laying on your bed with your hands resting top on your stomach. He can see bruising on the right side of your face, they have washed you and clothed you in a nightgown. He couldn’t get rid of the sight of the light brown dress you had on earlier that day you left. It was bloody and caked with shit and dirt from the streets when they found you. 

Sandor whispers your name. He knew he shouldn’t be in your room. He shouldn’t have come here but it was killing him not seeing you. Even if you weren’t speaking to him, he at least got to see you but now since you've been hurt. He hadn’t seen you at all. Sandor touches your hand, he brings one of your hands up to his lips. Kissing it and nuzzling into your palm as he leans down. He starts to breathe heavily as he cups his face with your hand.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers as he stares down at you. Your hand falls limp and he brings it back to his face, using his other hand to keep your hand in place. Knowing the maesters should be making their rounds soon. He leans down, close to your face. The bed dips under his weight. He says your name once more and kisses you on the lips. Sandor whines as he kisses you once more. Savoring it, since it will be the last time. He hoped you would wake up in time to get healed before the prince from Dorne arrived. 

“I love you.” He whispered against your lips. Pouring everything he had left to give, he kissed you for the last time. He blinked the tears away and walked away from the bed. He gives you one last look over his shoulder before he leaves and continues to pretend that he doesn't love you. You woke up the next day and found your father sitting next to you. He had hugged you and kissed your forehead calling the maesters to come and check up on you. Your servants stood outside your chambers when Robert told you about the news of Ser Felix. 

They cover their mouth with their hands to stop themselves from crying when they hear your cries. You let out a sob after learning what happened to him. You cried in your father’s arms at the horrible news of Ser Felix's death. Robert had you tell him everything from your point of view. He was happy when your story matched the same one from the woman. Robert had forbidden you to go back to the city, he had grown close to you as the days passed and it only made Joffrey more angry to the point that Sandor had witnessed Joffrey being the true monster he is. Sandor stood outside of the prince's chambers as the prince laughed loudly while he shot a whore in the leg with his bow and arrow. Sandor disposed of the body the next day and pretended nothing happened just like Joffrey did. Sandor only saw you when the family sat together eating dinner. It was the only time when Robert wanted to be seated together. Cersei and Joffrey had gotten annoyed at the fact that Robert wanted you close to him. Sandor watched as you barely ate but you drank more and more each day. You never looked up from your plate only when your father spoke to you. He can see the fake smile you gave everyone including the servants. 

You gave the same fake smile when you were told the prince is making his way up to King’s landing. 

The castle was going crazy the following day for the arrival of the Prince from Dorne. All morning your servants waited on you, they washed you, clothed you into one of the finest dresses you were gifted. You allowed them to place a diamond necklace around your neck as they rubbed oil on your arms and legs, you tried your best to be excited like they were but you just couldn't. You tried your best to be in a good mood but nothing was working. You had nightmares every night since you woke up. Your dreams would be flooded with the sight of Ser Felix being ripped apart, you started to imagine his screams and the sound of his flesh being torn. You can still recall the pushes and the slaps you received when you tried to break the riot apart. You had called out for Sandor, you screamed his name as the riot broke out. Thinking about it now, you felt ridiculous for shouting his name.

You felt nothing even when the prince walked towards you when you entered the great hall. It was dinner and he was the first to rise up from his seat. He was tall, had brown curls on top of his head and his eyes matched his hair color. His skin was tan and it went well with the yellow mustard robe he wore. You gave him a smile as he introduced himself, while grabbing a hold of your hand. He leans down to kiss your knuckles and you glanced behind him. 

Catching Sandor’s gaze across the room, he quickly looked away and you did the same. The prince's name was Lewyn, second of his name. He sat across from you and you had to admit. He was very handsome. Speaking with Lewyn had eased your worry of not liking your husband to be. He was kind and respectful. You were surprised when he gave you his condolences about your guard, Ser Felix. Walking around the garden, he told you that he knew about the incident that had occurred. You immediately thought, he wouldn't want to join houses because of it. Your mother had screamed up a storm, telling you to stop with this excessive idea of helping the poor. 

“To be honest, I thought the stories about you were lies.” He said and you froze next to him. He turned to face you. 

“The most kind and beautiful princess to have ever lived.” You blushed hard at his words. “The stories are true and I'm happy because of it. I need a good and kind woman by my side.” For a moment you had forgotten all about what happened the last few months as he leaned down to kiss your cheek. His lips were soft and he smelled like the sun and spices. 

A celebration was in order according to Robert, House Baratheon and House Martell will be joining together. Robert had deemed that the celebration of your engagement will be the largest celebration the Seven Kingdoms will ever witness. The days passed and everyone was preparing for the celebration. The castle was being cleaned and decorated. Everyone who your father invited was coming to King's Landing. You greeted the Starks, Arryn, Greyjoy, Mormont, Tarly, Tyrell, Glover and more as they came to the celebration. Everything was overwhelming but you were grateful for Lewyn. As the days passed you grew closer to him, he never left you unattended. Walks around the gardens and eating meals together. He showed you books he had brought you about his home. The time you had a moment for yourself was at night. You stayed up staring at the ceiling as you thought about Sandor. 

You haven't seen Sandor as Joffrey was doing god knows what. You touched your lips as you remembered the dream you had. You had dreamt that Sandor had come to your room in the middle of the night and kissed you. The dream felt so real, he kissed you and told you he had loved you. Shutting your eyes you traced your lips with your fingers as you placed the other hand on your chest. You can recall his smell and his warmth. You imagine Sandor between your legs. You cupped your breasts, imagining it was Sandor’s large hands. You let out a whine as you pulled your nipple over your nightgown as you remembered the last time you were intimate with him. Your cunt clenched around the nothingness as you remembered his cock going in and out of you. Taking your hand from your lips, you bring it under the covers and under your nightgown. You moaned when you touched your clit, you whispered his name as you remembered how good his fingers felt, how good his tongue felt on your cunt. 

“Sandor!” You cry out as you slip your finger inside of you. 

The night ended and the sun rose, it was the morning of the celebration. The official announcement of your engagement. Robert wanted you to have this since your wedding will be held in Drone. Lewyn wished for you to be married in his home and you accepted it. You knew you couldn’t get married in the same room with Sandor. You were woken a bit later by your servants who came inside your chambers to get you ready. The morning seems like a blur to you, you allowed them to fawn over you. While they dressed you one of the servants gave you a note from Prince Lewyn. His words made you smile but you felt nothing. He wished you a good morrow and he will count the seconds until he gets to see you again. 

“This seems a bit too much.” You said as you stood in front of the door of the great hall while looking at the decorations hanging by the door. You were unaware of your uncles behind you. Jamie who stood with Tyrion just smiled at you.

“Is that so?” Tyrion said as he stepped near you. He was dressed in red and golden robe while Jamie wore his golden armor. Giving a warm smile to your uncles, he asked you to kneel down. You tried your best with the dress you had on. 

“You’re not like us, child.” You frowned and he continued. “I'm so happy you aren't. You're different and I pray that you will live a happy life in Drone.”

“You think I will live a happy life?” You asked him and he nodded. You don't believe him as you stood up with the help of Jamie who lent you his arm. 

“Your husband-to-be, shall be standing near your father. Just walk towards the throne.” Jamie said as the servants came in to fix the train of your dress. Jamie kissed you on the cheek and wished you good fortune. 

They handed you a bouquet of flowers as you heard the music start to play. The guards opened the doors and you looked ahead. Everyone's eyes were on you as you walked to the throne. Your hands shook but you continued on. You can see Eddard Stark along with his wife standing. They gave you a nod as the guards announced your name. Lewyn stood below the steps of the throne where your father sat. He smiled when you made eye contact with him. He was dressed in beautiful silver and white dress robes. It matched with your dress. He gives you his arm and helps you walk up the steps. 

“You're absolutely breathtaking.” He whispered to you as both of you stood in front of your father. 

Sandor watched with a heavy heart as you walked to your husband-to-be. The gown trailed behind you and the diamond necklace around your neck shined with every step you took. The guards and servants whispered amongst themselves about your appearance, calling you an angel. Robert made a speech about the houses joining together, you tried to look at the prince but your eyes wanted to look over at your family side, for you hoped to see Sandor. Lewyn leaned towards you to whisper in your ear after Robert’s speech. 

“Your father mentioned to me that you are close with the people of King’s Landing. He didn't want you walking around anymore. I was able to do something since this will be their last chance to see you.” Lewyn said as he held your hand and walked with you down the hall. 

Walking to the front doors of the castle, he gently squeezed your hand as he waved the guards to open the doors of the castle. The moment the doors opened you can hear cheering and your name being shout. You let go of his hand as you walked forward seeing the people of King’s Landing standing out of the castle. Knights were lined up as a wall, keeping the large crowd back. The people in King's Landing grew silent when you stepped closer to them. They haven’t seen you in weeks after the riot, they stood staring at you in complete awe by the way you’re dressed. A smile appeared on your face and you chuckled in shock at the amount of people who showed up. You waved at them and the silence disappear, they cheered loudly as you waved at them. They shouted the word princess over and over again as they waved their hands and arms. They threw flowers at your feet. Robert stood behind you as he watched in disbelief by how much the people loved you but that's why you were called the Realm's Delight.

It soon changed when the crowd started to push the knights back trying to get closer to you. There was a shout and the knights a few feet in front of you fell back, the crowd pushed forward. Robert yelled at the knights to keep formation. 

“PRINCESS!” You gasped when people started to run towards you. Robert pushed you behind as Jamie started to run towards the crowd. One man had managed to go under the knights and threw himself at your feet. Leywen gathered you in his arms pulling you back, you almost tripped on the train of your dress. The man was about to touch your dress when there was a rough growl and a tall frame came between you and the man. 

You watched as Sandor grabbed the man from the back of his shirt. Growling at his face, Sandor gave him a glare. “You dare to touch her.” Sandor snapped as he grabbed a hold of the man’s neck, pulling him up. The servants and the Lords and ladies gasped. 

“Sandor! Please! Stop it. Don’t hurt him.” You shouted, pushing yourself away from Leywen, reaching for Sandor’s arm.  Sandor drops the man when he feels you grab a hold of his arm. He looks at you and takes a step back. The man is gasping for air on the floor. 

“Y/n!” Cersei shouted pushing the ladies out of her way when she saw you leaning over the gasping man. 

“Are you alright?” You asked as you helped the man who still on his knees. You ignored the muttering behind you from the lords and ladies when you offered your hand to him, a commoner. 

“Get away from him.” Cersei forcefully pulled you back making you wince from her gripped. 

“Throw him away!” Cersei shouted at Sandor. He glances over at you for a second, taking in your facial expression. He looked away when Leywen walked in front of you. The prince looked over at you, taking your face in his hands. 

It was two days after the celebration when Sandor was told of the news of the war. Robert’s brother was going to attack soon again. One of Lord Varys’ spies had found out and Robert was getting ready. Sandor stood behind Joffrey when he received the news that Joffrey will be joining them as well. The blonde looked shocked by it. 

‘What do you mean?” Joffrey asked as Robert grabbed his sword. 

“You're heir to the throne and you haven't fought once in battle. Do you want to sit this out and add more fuel to what the people are saying?” Joffrey glared at his father. 

“I don't care what they have to say about me. I am heir to the iron throne and I can send men in my place.” Robert walked close to him and signaled Sandor to leave the room. He bowed and obeyed, he stood behind the door as Robert yelled at Joffrey. 

The rumors after your celebration had spread throughout the entire kingdom. A rumor that had the council worry. Sandor decided to walk to the armory of the castle. Knowing since Joffrey was going to go, he will have too as well. Sandor isn't afraid of war, he has been in them since he was kid. He looked at the swords and the shields hanging on the walls. 

“Sandor.” He turns when he hears you behind him. You were standing by the entrance. He looks away from you. “Have I angered you so much that you won't even look at me?” Sandor doesn't know what to say.

“I'm truly sorry for whatever I have done. I'm sorry.” He made no response because you were going to leave soon. The prince from Drone had gone back home to start preparing for your arrival and the wedding. You looked happy with the prince, he couldn't take that away from you. Not after he broke you, he tells himself. 

“At least look at me before I leave. I wish to see you one more time.” Sandor shuts his eyes when he feels your hand on his arm. He turns to you and looks down at you. He won't say anything but he will look at you, giving you your last wish before you leave. 

“I want to hate you.” Sandor’s eyes shot open at your words. You gave him a face and repeated it again. 

“I want to hate you. I should hate you.” You cried out slapping his chest with all your might.

“Hate me then.” Sandor said, grabbing a hold of your wrists and holding them. 

“You’re a fucking coward, you know that.” You hissed at him trying to pull away from him but he kept his grip on you tight. Sandor laughs at your face, “Coward, you say.” 

“The coward is your fucking brother.” Sandor said, making you shake your head. 

“He isn't my brother. He's my half brother. I'm nothing like him.” You snapped at him and Sandor pushed you against the wall. He released your wrists and caged you with his arms. 

“You aren't.” Sandor whispered as he stared at you. You don't flinch when he brings his hand to touch your cheek. 

“You ain't nothing like them. Not like your mother who fucks her brother. Not like your devil of a brother. You're kind. You're good, so good.” You held on to his arms as he touched your cheek, you missed his touch. 

“You bring that good to Drone, you hear me. Don’t fucking change.” Sandor tells you softly, making you frown. “I don't want to go to Drone. I want to stay here with you. You made me do this. You made me do it. I did it for you so you wouldn't get punished.” Sandor steps away from you and you quickly go to the entrance, blocking his path. 

“I did it for you because I love you, Sandor Clegane. We still have a chance. We can still run away.” Sandor looks at you with hope for a second. 

“I have to get ready for the battle. I'm going with your brother.” You looked so distraught by this news. 

“Leave with me, please. Right now.” Sandor shook his head at you. “If I leave before the battle, they will know. They will look for me. Joffrey will have my head.” 

“Joffrey has never gone to any battle before. I don't even think he knows how to swing a sword. Why is he even going?” You asked and Sandor looks at you with furrowed brows. 

“You don't know?” He asked you. “I would have thought Little Finger would have told you already.” 

“Told me what?” Sandor stared at you. “The people want you to be their queen. Not your bastard brother.” You stared at him shocked. 

“I don't understand. The realm will never accept a woman on the throne.” You told him, making him shake his head. 

“That was before, now they would rather have you on it. They want you. They have started calling you the rightful heir to the throne. You have done more than Joffrey. Your father is taking him tomorrow to the battle so the people in the realm can see him.” Sandor told you. 

“That day..” Sandor stops in mid and grabs your hand with his. “You should have seen them. Robert saw they loved you but he didn't realize how much. Then you gave your hand out to that man, to help him. A princess helping a commoner. The street started to shout your name and they called you the true heir. The rumor that Cersei and Jamie tried so hard to cover has exploded. The people started to shout bastard at the sight of Joffrey.” 

“My father doesn't believe them, though?” You asked. “ I don't know. The council suggested for him to take Joffrey. He has to do this because half of the army is on your side now.” You frowned. 

“They will serve for the true heir of the throne. A true Baratheon.” 

Sandor felt you grasp his hand and pull him closer to you. “After the battle then? I thought I could go to Drone without you but I can't. My heart refuses to leave you behind.” 

“I won’t watch you marry him.” Sandor said, making you chuckle. “I'm not marrying him. The moment I'm on the road I'm escaping.” 

Sandor frowned as you told him your plan to escape. “You're crazy. You won't survive by yourself.” 

“I only need to survive until I make it 100 miles from Winterfell. Eddard Stark has granted me safe haven until I figure out where to go.” 

“You believe him?” Sandor shouts in disbelief. “He knows of us.” Sandor is left speechless. 

“After the celebration, I was walking in the gardens. I never felt more alone that day. He found me crying, we spoke about what happened with the crowd and it just slipped out. He swore to me he wouldn't say a word. All I have to do is send a raven and he has promised to meet me halfway to escort me back to Winterfell.” 

‘If it's a trap?” Sandor asked angrily. “I don't care. As long as I'm with you.” You answered him. 

“I’ll leave you now. My offer still stands. You will make me the happiest woman if you do come with me, I’ll wait after the battle. I don't know what I have done to you. What I have said but I'm sorry and I love you. I will always love you, Sandor. If this was all just a ruse so you can get your dick wet then enjoy your whore and farewell.” 

Sandor screamed at himself as he watched you walk away. He wanted to run after you. His feet remained glued to the floor. ‘Whore?’ he asked himself. ‘What whore?’ You were the last person he's been with, your lips were the last he has kissed. Sandor manages to break free and begins to walk out of the room and down the hallway. He looks both ways in hope to see you. He's about to walk to your chambers when he hears Joffrey behind him, coming to a halt he turns to see the prince.

“Father, has lost his mind, Dog! He wants us to go tonight. Says I need the experience.” Sandor watches as Joffrey walks towards him with a frown. 

“All because of my bitch sister!” Joffrey yelled. Sandor’s jaw clenched. “This is all because of her. I hate her.” 

“The realm wants a whore who fucks second born sons sitting on the throne.” Joffrey spawned out with hatred. 

Sandor's body has been acting on its own. First holding his feet froze as you left and now his hand is resting on the hilt of his sword. He stared at Joffrey as he tightened his grip on it while Joffrey kept calling you a whore. With one swing, he can kill Joffrey and go to your room. Both of you could run away, go to Winterfell then go to Braavos. He will be free and tell you everything. He will tell you everything and he will be happy. 

Sandor wants to be happy with you. 

“Prince Joffrey!” Sandor drops his hand when Jamie comes walking towards them. “Your horse is ready. We leave now. Your father is waiting for you.” Jamie told him. 

“Very well.” Joffrey answers and signals Sandor to come with him. 

You were looking out the window when you saw your father walking to the stable. You frown when you see the knights do the same. You thought they would leaving tomorrow. You ran out of your chambers and searched for your servants. You found her looking out the balcony outside of your chambers. 

“What's happening?” You asked her and she told you Robert decided to get to the field early so they can have an advantage. 

“The rest of the army will join them at morrow.” She said before walking you back to your chambers. You drank tea that night, trying to ease the unwell feeling in your stomach. You paid no mind to it, you had to get ready to leave. You couldn't sleep that night, the thought of Sandor on the field with your half-brother. Knowing Joffrey, he would make Sandor protect him while he hides away. Packing a light bag the next morning, you grabbed the letter to Eddard Stark. Quickly walking out, you noticed your servants and the guards down the hallway were gone. How strange, it was. 

Out of breath from running, you watched as the raven flew with the letter attached to its leg. You prayed it would make it in time. Walking out of the room, you heard yelling. Making your way to the kitchen, you saw the cooks huddle together as they looked out the door. 

“What's going on?” You asked and they yelped in surprise. They greeted you with a small bow. 

“Tell me at once, what's happening?” You asked worriedly. 

“It's the other knights princess. They don't want to go! They refuse to fight with your bastard brother.” One of the cooks gasped when she let out the word bastard. 

“Forgive me, pri-” You cut her off by shaking your head. “I know, I know all about it.” You told them, making their eyes widen. 

“It's true.” You said with a nod. “But my father still needs them to win this war.” You said pushing the cooks out of the way with the small bag over your shoulder. 

You can hear them shouting for you to come back. Making your way to the stable, you saw the stable boy. You begged him to prepare a horse for you, you were in dire need to get to the rest of the knights who were refusing to go and fight. The stable boy and the cooks watched as you began to ride to the front gates of King’s Landing. 

You saw the golden armor of the King’s guard, it was Jamie second in command. He was arguing with one of the knights as they stayed still. The moment they saw you, they froze. “Princess,” the second in command bowed. 

“Why haven't they moved? The battle can be happening now and my father and Sa-” You stopped yourself, you were going to say Sandor’s name. They couldn't know why you were doing this. 

“We won't fight with that bastard Joffrey.'' One of the knights yelled and the rest cheered.   “How dare you call the heir to the throne a bastard!” Jamie’s second in command yelled. 

“He’s right.” You said and he looked over at you, shocked by what you said. You would have to tell them the truth. It was the only way to help Sandor and your father. Without them, you fear the war will be lost. Gripping the reins of the horse tightly, you took a deep breath and looked over at the knights ahead of you.

“You are all right!” You yelled with all your might. 

“Joffrey is a bastard. His father is Jaime Lannister. You won’t fight for him but I beg you to fight for me. Fight for me!” You cried out. 

“And when we win this war against Stannis, I will speak with my father. If what you say is true, you want me to be your queen. I’ll do it! I’ll be your queen and I'll rule the seven kingdoms with fairness and with just. You will no longer be hungry, no longer shall you worry about how to survive because I will be your queen. A true Baratheon will sit on the Iron Throne. Will you fight this war for me?!” 

You let out a deep breath when they shouted amongst themselves. 

“FOR THE FUTURE QUEEN!! FOR THE FUTURE QUEEN!” 

Jamie’s second in command was astounded as the knights began to get on their horses. “Will you stand by my side as we bring them to my father?” You asked him with hope he will accept. 

He nodded at you. “For our future Queen.” 

Sandor felt like he was sinking under water and his head was ringing. He didn’t see that knight coming at him. Too busy keeping Joffrey safe. His helmet was long gone, he used it to break someone's jaw when he dropped his sword.

This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. Robert’s army should’ve been here. Stannies had decided to attack the moment they saw Robert’s army coming at dawn. Sandor felt Joffrey behind him. Jamie had shouted for the rest of the remaining king’s guard to hold their post. 

“Dog!” Joffrey’s voice echoed in his mind. 

He felt Joffrey hitting Sandor’s on the back. Sandor looked over his shoulder and grabbed Joffrey’s Valyrian steel sword from his hand and swung it across the man near him. Joffrey's mouth dropped open when Sandor completely decapitated the man’s head in one single blow. 

“JOFFREY!” Jamie yelled.  Sandor watched his back as Jamie yelled at Joffrey to go back to base. They had to retreat, they were losing men by the minute. 

“Where’s your father?” Sandor growled as he looked ahead, ready for anyone to get near with Joffrey’s sword in his hand. “I don’t know. You keep this.” Jamie said, handling Joffrey a dagger. 

“I’m not going back.” Joffrey hissed at his uncle. Jamie frowned, “There are not enough men. We have to retreat.” 

“Take him with you.” Sandor snapped at Jamie as a group of men started to head towards them. Jamie grabbed Joffrey by the neck ignoring his shouts to release him. 

Sandor can hear the galloping behind him. Sandor let out a deep breath as he relaxed his nervousness. Sandor Clegane was nervous, he didn’t think he would survive this time. The cut on his arm hurts like a bitch. His head is ringing, he could have sworn he saw a glimpse of you on a horse, the horse is standing on the far edge of a cliff across the field. 

Sandor was so busy looking at you, he didn’t see the man coming at him. Before he could see the man, a horse passed him, taking the man down. The rider had stabbed the man in the head. 

“Clegane.” Robert shouted as he rode towards him. Robert had just saved him. 

Before he could answer, there was a horn that caused them to stop for a second. Robert had sweat dripping down his forehead, blood of his enemies was dripping down his armor. He looks across the field and his dark eyes widened when he saw the other half of his army riding in. There was hope that they would win this war. In the corner of his eyes, he saw two horses standing by the cliff. He saw it was the second in command of the King’s guard and you. You’re on a white horse, staring down at the field. A smile appeared on his tired face, you, his daughter had brought his knights to him. 

They won the war because of you. Robert and his men rode back to base. He frowned when he saw Joffrey's horse standing by the King's tent. 

“Where’s my son?!” He shouted. Robert noticed the angry look on the knights' faces when Joffrey walked out of the tent. Joffrey stood still when he saw Robert getting off his horse and walking towards him. 

“Where were you? You hid?” Robert shouted. Joffrey glared about to say something when they heard the rest coming. Joffrey was seething when he saw you riding first into base with the second in command. The army you brought rode behind you. 

Robert watched as you rode near him. Without a single thought, Robert helped you get down off of your horse. The knights around you stood up from their seats. 

“I had to do it. It was the only way for them to come.” You whispered to Robert, looking at Joffrey by the tent. 

“Do what?” Robert asked, cupping your face. 

“They came here because they fought for me, father. I must tell you something and you have to believe me. Please, let’s go inside.” You said grabbing your father’s hand and tugging him to the tent. 

“What are you doing here?” Joffrey yelled as he walked towards you. “This has nothing to do with you.” You said taking a step back when you saw the craziness in his eyes. 

“Father-.” “Pleas-.” 

Robert hushed both of you as the knights began to shout amongst themselves. “Go inside. I’ll be back to discuss this matter.” Robert tells you before walking to the group of knights. 

You passed Joffrey and walked into the tent. “You just had to be here.” 

You ignored Joffrey and stood at the far end of the tent. “Just because you brought the rest of the army, you think you’re better than me?” Joffrey asked as he came to the table where the maps were laid out. 

“You’re nothing, sister. I count the days where you leave for Drone. I pray to the gods you get sick on your travels and die.” You look at Joffrey. 

“Fuck you.” You spat at him and there was a look of pure anger in his eyes. It scared you because you never saw him like this. 

“He’s dead, you know.” Joffrey said, walking around the table trying to get closer to you. 

“What?” Joffrey nods at you with a smile. “I saw that fucking dog you love so much go down. The sword was rammed in his chest.” You felt your chest tighten by Joffrey’s words. You shook your head, not believing it. Sandor was a good fighter, one of the best swordsmen in the seven kingdoms. 

“You’re lying!” You yelled and walked further away from Joffrey. 

“Then go out to the field and see him for yourself. He’s dead. He did his job to protect me. You can have him back now. I have no use for him anymore.” Joffrey lied to get that reaction he’s been craving. He smiled when he saw you crying. 

“No!” You cried as you covered your mouth. You’re about to walk out of the tent to see it for yourself. “You aren’t going anywhere.” Joffrey screamed and grabbed a hold of your arm, pulling you back inside. 

He pushed you against the table and you let out a whimper when you felt the cold steel of his dagger under your chin. 

“Tell me the truth? Is he really dead?” Joffrey just sighs at you as he pushes the tip of the dagger under your chin making you wince. He smiles when he sees he cut your skin, a trail of blood starts to run down the blade of his dagger. 

“He is dead. You want to know what his last words were?” Joffrey asked with a smile as tears ran down your face. 

“He said. Fuck the whore princess.” Joffrey laughed at you. Joffrey's smile disappeared when you slapped him across the face making him cry out. 

“Fuck you! You fucking bastard.” You yelled at him. Joffrey growled and you let out a gasp when you felt Joffrey’s hand hold your shoulder. 

Looking at Joffrey’s face, you felt frozen for a moment. The anger on his face washed away and a look of panic came across his face. He took a step back and looked down at your chest. Following his gaze, you looked down and saw the hilt of the dagger. Taking a breath, the pain came rushing through you. He stabbed you in the chest with the dagger. Joffrey shook his head as he looked at you. 

“Joffrey.” You cry out and fall down on your knees as you cry out in pain. Joffrey ran out of the tent leaving you behind. You were left alone, you looked down to see blood start to stain the front of your dress. You can feel the blood flowing down your body, you let out a moan of pain with each breath you took. 

You didn’t even hear the commotion outside of the tent as you fell to the ground on your back. You stared at the ceiling of the tent as you cried. Your vision grew blurry, you didn’t hear someone coming in. You didn’t hear the shouts and the sound of someone walking inside. Blinking the tears, you were met with your father’s face. You see his lips moving but no words are coming out. 

You feel so cold now. You let out a groan when you felt someone grabbing a hold of you. Robert started to cry as he held you in his arms. 

Robert shook his head when he saw you were trying to speak but blood started to come out of the corner of your mouth.  He flinched when you started to cough up blood.  The only thing you can do is stare up at him. You were dying and it brought tears to your eyes. You were dying and he wouldn’t know what happened. Robert felt your hand on his cheek as you used all the strength you had left in you. 

“Joff- ery.” Robert frowned when you spoke. "Joffrey."

“Jof-fery did it. H-he is a-a bastard.” You cried as your vision grew dark. “He is a bastard.” Robert felt you go limp in his arms after you said those words. 

He calls out your name as he picks your head up. Something broke Robert is half and he relived the day he was told that Lyanna Stark was murdered. A scream came from inside the tent that made Robert’s army freeze. They all saw how the prince came running out bumping into his father. Robert had commanded Joffrey to stay put and that he will have a word with him after he spoke with you. Jamie yelled at Joffrey to come back when he saw Joffrey mounting the nearest horse. Joffrey rode out as Sandor came walking with a group, he had retrieved his sword and walked back to the base. He stopped when he saw Joffrey riding away and looked ahead when he heard a scream. 

Sandor quickly walked to the white horse he saw you on. He began to breathe quickly when he saw you weren’t on it. He looked around and flinched when he heard Robert’s scream once more. Everyone looked at the tent, all frozen because they never heard Robert scream like this. Sandor shouted your name, not caring what people would think or say. He had to find you. He shouted once more before walking inside of the tent passing Jamie. 

Sandor froze when he entered. He took a step back bumping into Jamie. The King Slayer gasped when he saw the sight of Robert holding your dead body in his arm. Robert sobbed against your neck. Sandor watched how your body trembled with each sob Robert made. Your eyes were open and staring at ceiling. Arms flared out, blood started to pool on the ground and cover Robert’s armor but he didn’t care. Your father held you in his arms. 

Jamie saw the dagger in your chest when Robert pulled away from you to move your hair out of your face. 

“Where is he?” Robert hissed. Sandor and Jamie remained silent. “Where is that blonde bastard?” The look of absolute fear appeared on Jamie’s face. 

The knights outside quickly hushed down when they saw Sandor walk out of the tent. He dragged his sword on the ground as he walked to the nearest tree. Dropping the sword completely he ignored the questions thrown at him. They all looked at themselves when they saw The Hound with tears rolling down from his face. Sandor was in complete shock. His bottom lip trembled as he cried. 

“Where is he?” Robert shouted in the tent and Jamie came out walking backwards. Robert had his sword aimed at him.

“This is a mistake. Joffrey wouldn’t do this.” Jamie explained but the look in Robert’s eyes. Jamie knew it was no use, Robert wanted revenge. 

“Arrest him.” Robert yelled looking at his men. “Wait-this has nothing to do with me.” Jamie yelled as they tackled him down to the ground. Sandor looked over his shoulder when he heard Robert. 

“The person who brings me Joffrey Lannister will be rewarded.” Robert's words rang out and the sound of Jamie screaming no was all that Robert needed. You told him the truth. A few knights had begun to ride back to King’s Landing. 

Joffrey was indeed a bastard. 

Sandor felt like an empty shell as he rode back to King's Landing. The cut on his arm was numbed, the banging in his head was nothing compared to the emptiness he felt in his heart. His blood shot eyes were glued to the wagon a few feet in front of him. Robert rode his horse as he led another with a wagon attached to it. He laid you there when they started to get ready to ride back. The knights that stayed bowed their heads when Robert came out of the tent with you in his arms. Robert covered you with a blanket, his hands shook as he checked you were strapped in. 

Sandor can see the outline of your body, your body moved whenever there was a bump in the road. He had shut his eyes when he saw the blood seeping through the blanket. Robert decided to ride through the gates of the back of the castle. The servants and stable boys were all waiting to tend the wounded and the horses. Robert got off his horse and saw Cersei walking towards him with a frown when she noticed Jamie was chained. 

“What is the meaning of this? Joffrey has barricaded himself in his room. He won’t open the door. My brother has been arrested.” Cersei yelled at him. She was met with a slap across her face that made her fall to the ground. 

“Is Joffrey mine?” Robert asked, looking down at her. Cersei’s eyes widened in surprise but she hid it with a look of anger. 

“Don’t you fucking lie to me.” Cersei flinched under his gaze and looked away. She looked ahead at his horse and noticed a wagon with a body on it. 

“That bastard killed my daughter.” Robert yelled, grabbing Cersei by the hair and dragged her to the wagon. Cersei yelled in pain as he dragged her over. Robert ripped the blanket off of your body and pushed Cersei down on her knees in front of you. All she did was stare as the servants behind her scream in terror at the sight of you. Your servants began to cry and fell on their knees from shock. 

Cersei just stared in shock, Robert grew angry when she didn't show any emotions. Cersei yelped when Robert grabbed a hold of her blonde hair again. Jamie screamed across from, screaming at Robert to let her go. 

“Your grace, what's the meaning of this?” Jon Arryn, the hand of the King said as he walked along with the maester to Robert. 

Jon Arryn froze when he saw you. He looked at Robert and at Cersei on the floor. Robert kept staring at her as Jon started to yell at everyone to leave. The stable boys grabbed the horses and brought them to the stables while the servants tried to cover their cries. 

“Chain her with her brother.” Robert told Jon Arryn. The news of your death was not announced until two days later. Those two days seemed to be a nightmare to most. Robert had caused a rampage in the castle. Jamie and Cersei Lannister were arrested. Robert had the doors of Joffrey’s chambers broken down and the knights grabbed a hold of the blonde boy. They found him hiding under his bed. He screamed with all his might as they dragged him down the hall. Tommen and Marcella were kept guarded in the Red Keep, they had Jon Arryn to thank for. Robert had become ruthless and wanted every Lannister executed including the children. 

Sandor stayed in his room those two days. He locked himself. He ignored the shouts and the screams from Joffrey who was being dragged to the dungeons. He ignored the knocks from your servants. He didn’t want to see anyone. He didn’t want to speak to anyone. He laid on his bed, covering his face with his pillow as he sobbed. He screams into the pillow trying to cover the sound. He cried until he fell asleep and woke up to do it all over again. 

He shouted at the person to fuck off when he heard a knock on the third day. His throat was sore from the screams. 

“It’s me, Sandor. It’s Ned Stark.” Sandor froze as Ned knocked once more. “I need to speak with you.” Sandor rose up from his bed and walked to the door. 

Sandor notices Ned has been crying as well. His eyes were red and he let the lord walk inside. Ned walked in, looking at the room before looking back at Sandor.

“Did she tell you-.” Sandor cuts Ned off with a nod as he shuts the door. 

“Very well then. I’m sure she didn’t tell you but she wanted me to tell you in case the plan fell through. She wanted me to give you a place in Winterfell, if you want too. Since Joffrey is still kept in the dungeon, you can come back with us after the funeral. I will arrange for some of my men to escort you to Winterfell unseen.” Sandor frowned. 

“She asked you?” Ned nodded with a small smile. “She knows you've been treated unfairly by Joffrey. She wrote to me before her death, in case something happened to please have a place for you. She loved you, I didn’t understand it at first but the way she spoke about you. She called you a good man, a man with honor.” 

Sandor shook his head. “I’m not a good man. I broke her heart because Joffrey threatened to have us exposed. He threatened to have her executed for being with me. For being with a dog, a second born son. It’s my fault she died. It’s all my fault.” Ned watched in silence as Sandor sat down on his bed and covered his face with his hands. 

“You didn’t kill her. Joffrey did. It’s not your fault. In the end, I know for a fact she knew you still loved her. She had to know because why would she send me a letter asking for safe haven for you if she couldn’t make it.” 

“The Lannister's trial will start soon. I don’t know about you but I can’t wait to see their faces. Robert's decision is final on them.” Ned told him and left the room leaving Sandor in his thoughts. 

The trial ended with Jamie and Tyrion sent to the wall for their remaining days, it was thanks to their father, Tywin Lannister. He had rode to King’s landing demanding for his children's freedom but at the end. Tywin had begged for his sons to not be executed. 

“Kill all the bastards, for all I care.” Tywin said, ignoring Cersei's cries. “And your whore daughter?” 

Tywin looked at Robert and picked a decision that will haunt him for the rest of his life. “Do what you like, your grace. This is the last time she will tarnish the Lannister's name.” 

Before the trial ended, Robert called out for Tywin. “Take your sons to the wall, Lord Lannister and stay there with them.” Tywin’s face fell, all the Lannister's were punished for Joffrey’s doing. 

For the first time, the people in King’s Landing didn’t push and shove to see you or touch you. They stood in silence, some cried and others just watched as the knights carried your body in an open carriage. You laid on a bed of flowers, you wore a black and golden color dress as a tribute to your House. Your hands laid on top of your stomach as you laid there peacefully. 

Making it to the Red Keep, the knights carried you inside where the realm can give you their last goodbye to you. Everyone had gone home when Sandor visited you. He dropped his shoulders and he felt the tears well up in his eyes at the sight of you laying so still in the middle of the keep. Lit candles surrounded you and you had golden coins laid on top your eyes. He removed his sword and wineskin from his belt, placing it by the wall as he walked towards you. 

His hands shook as he tried to reach for your hand. He flinched when he felt how cold you were and stiffed. He grabbed it, ignoring it and bringing it up to his lips. 

“I’m sorry.” He mumbles against your knuckles. “I’m sorry, Princess.” He cries out. After a few minutes, Sandor clears his throat after saying his goodbyes to you. “I’m not going to Winterfell. We were supposed to go together.” He gently puts your hand back in place.

Before Sandor leaves, he looks down at you once more. “I love you. I will always love you.” 

Grabbing his sword and wineskin, he shuts the doors behind and walks down the steps of the Red Keep, he ignores the two bodies stung up across from him. He had no need to see Joffrey and Cersei again. He walked to the stable to find Ned and his men. Sandor walked to Stanger, giving his head a rub before looking at Ned. 

“Are you sure?” The Lord of Winterfell asked him. Sandor nodded at him. 

“He just needs some time when it comes to new people. He’s a war horse, fast and strong.” Ned nodded before reaching his hand out for Stranger to smell it. 

“We will take good care of him. Rob, my oldest needs a good horse. I swear Stranger will be well taken care of.” Sandor gives Ned the reins of Stranger and pats him once more as goodbye. Sandor watches as Ned and his men begin to travel back to the North. He wasn't worry about giving Stranger away, Sandor knew Ned will be true to his word. Stranger will be taken care of by his new owner.  

Sandor doesn't tell anyone where he’s going off too. He walks out of King's Landing and walks through the forest to the edge of the cliff where he saw the sun was setting. Removing his sword and wineskin, he sits down and leans back against the tree as he remembers the sound of your laughter. This is the place, the place where you kissed him for the first time. You had managed to convince him to take you out after being cooped up in the castle. He was sitting on a rock as you gave him a wineskin out of your bag. It was out of nowhere but you had walked towards him catching him by surprise and you were at the perfect height to kiss him. 

Sandor grabs the wineskin he brought and brings it up to his nose to smell it. He looks ahead at the scenery with a smile. Maybe it was the gods showing him a vision, or perhaps it was all in his head but he can see himself with you at the same spot on the rock where you kissed him. He had returned those kisses, gathering you up in his arms and both of you stayed there for a while. He forced himself to drink the wine as he stared ahead watching the sunset. He wanted to be with you. Throwing the empty wineskin, he looks down at his hands. His eyesight blurred and he looked up to find himself back in your room. 

“Your hands are huge, Sandor.” He looks to his right to see you under the covers, naked. He notices the look on your face, the love bites on your chest were fresh. He lets you grab a hold of hand and compares it with yours.

“My hands aren’t not huge. You're just small.” Sandor comments as you raise his hand with your up in the air as the sunlight of the morning shined through the window of your chambers. Sandor had grabbed your hand and rolled over on top of you making you laugh as he kissed your neck. 

Ser Gregor stood next to Sandor’s body. They finally found him after four days later when he received news of Sandor's disappearance. His men found him, found his body laying against a tree, with the sun beaming down on him. One of his men brought the wineskin near Sandor's body to Ser Gregor. Bringing it up to his nose, Ser Gregor makes a face when he smells the poison. 

“Let’s take him back home.” Ser Gregor said, looking down at his younger brother one more time. It's the first time he had seen his brother so at peace. Sandor had died with a smile on his face.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

<- Chapter 2

Taglist: @federalclassroom @snixx2088 @just-a-burning-memory @darknight3904 @watercolorskyy @@nothing2113 @thyjinji @norakbubbles @mrs-marvel-addict @ellesmythe

#sandor clegane #sandor clegane x reader #games of thrones #sandor the hound clegane #sandor clegane fanfic #games of thrones x reader #games of thrones fanfiction #rory mccann #angst #sandor clegane angst #sad #sadgirl #death #tw death

[ladywuvly]

♱ love bites pt.1 (vampireslave!simonriley x princess!f!reader)

summary|| The world stands divided, witnessing the dawn of a fierce civil war between mankind and vampires. Since the day you were born, your father, the king, has dedicated his life to mastering the art of manipulating the masses. However, his relentless pursuit of power has overshadowed everything else. Nevertheless, when a pale-faced servant is introduced into the castle, an inexplicable connection draws you towards him. wc: 6.8K

warnings|| MDNI; 18+ content, violence + mentions of, blood, swearing, abuse, slavery, child neglect, human trafficking.

masterlist. socials. recs.

It was the day of your birthday, a day that should've brought you joy and excitement. Yet, it wasn't as if turning a year older, granted you any additional control or responsibility over your own life.

Instead, you found yourself trapped in this house castle you called home. Surrounded by a series of unfamiliar faces, royal servants, and a new tutor every few months.

Isolated from the other children your age, a burning desire for freedom consumed you, as you watched them get the life you wanted; the life you yearned for.

While they were allowed to live freely, you were imprisoned inside this mansion. Locked away in your bedroom, walls covered in lavish decor. Shelves and dressers filled with things you rarely used - makeup and perfumes rarely touched, dresses and linens you dreaded to even wear.

You were merely a marionette, dressed up and down, manipulated at your parent's whim, while others turned a blind eye at your misery.

Although, what did you expect, you were a princess after all.

Marianne suddenly entered your bedroom. Crossing the threshold gracefully with her eerie ambiance of mystery and allure.

Marianne had been your mother's handmaid for as long as you could remember. She had been a gift to your mother, from your father, long before you were born.

Flawless porcelain skin and deep captivating red eyes that set her apart from the rest of the other servants around the castle.

Time seemed to have no effect on her. She had not aged a single day in all of your years. Frozen in time at the age of 26, and was, considerably, the only consistent part in your life. 

Marianne laid out a dress for you. Placing it down carefully on your bed as she continued to busy herself around your bedroom.

Your head turned at the sound of her voice and you looked up at her sympathetically. "Do I have to go?"

Leaning back as her hands playfully combed through your hair, fingers gliding smoothly through your freshly brushed strands.

"It's best to get it done and over with." She said calmly.

As you made your way down the stairs, you took a moment to calm yourself before entering the dining room sheepishly.

Your father was seated at the head of the table, your mother beside him.

Catching sight of you, he swiftly fished his pocket watch from his coat. "You're late. I don't have the time to wait for you."

You followed your father outside to the waiting carriage. Accepting the kind hand offered by Louis, your chauffeur, and settled into the comfortable seats. 

The ride dragged on, perhaps it was on account of what awaited you, upon your arrival. It baffled you at how things had reached this point.

Once the existence of vampires was revealed to the world, they were immediately labeled as a threat. Dangerous creatures of the night that lurked amongst the shadows. Monsters hiding among men.

On contrary to popular belief, they didn't burst into flames when exposed to sunlight. They weren't threatened by garlic, or crosses, or holy water. They didn't die from a stake to the heart and they were certainly not undead.

Although, they appeared pale in complexion, possessed immense strength and heightened senses, and required a dietary supplement of blood to survive.

It would be unfair to label them as monstrous, and you refused to believe this was the only way to live alongside them. They had once been people, just like you were. They experienced emotions and suffered pain.

Sure, it was different from the typical ways of the 'living' world. Still, that didn't justify enslaving their entire race.

It was argued that it was the only method to ensure humanities safety. Claiming that without it you’d be vulnerable, unprotected. Nevertheless, you wouldn't embrace the idea that this was the sole approach to a harmonious existence. 

Soon the carriage came to a halt and your father got out. You peered out from behind him, surveying your surroundings before stepping onto the muddy road.

You trailed behind him into the building, entering a large auditorial room where the auction would be taking place. That familiar nauseous feeling swirled in your stomach as he led you to your seats near the back of the audience.

You anxiously looked around the room, taking in every detail. Within a matter of moments another man strode across the stage, approaching the podium.

The room became silent in anticipation as he began to speak. His words fell deaf to your ears, drowned out by the unsettling start of the auction.

Your eyes remained fixed on the stage. Witnessing as one after another, was forcefully brought out.

Both men and women, hands bound and feet shackled, appeared before the crowd. Some looked more heavily mistreated than others.

What disgusted you even more was the lack of empathy displayed by those around you, not even flinching as each individual was auctioned off to the highest bidder.

The sight was repulsive, and you couldn't bear to raise your bidding paddle held tightly in your hands.

As the auction began to come to an end, your father seethed at you through his barred teeth. "If you do not bid, I will do it for you."

Reluctantly, you shifted your gaze back to the stage, as another man was being dragged out.

He stood with an imposing height. Towering over the both men who held him captive at either side. His shoulders wide, and the shirt he wore did a poor job at concealing the dried blood and dirt that clung to his pale skin.

Your eyes couldn't help but linger on him, captivated by his presence. Despite his greasy blonde hair that fell over his eyes impedingly, it didn’t mask the strong features of his face.

He pulled away from the man on his right, earning a painful kick to the back of his legs that sent him collapsing onto his knees.

With his hair serving as a makeshift restraint, his head was raised. Lifting his chin defiantly, revealing his face in all its glory to the many interested onlookers among the audience.

His appearance was striking and as strange as it seemed, you couldn't help but feel drawn to him. His rugged face, marked by dirt and blood, still possessed an undeniable beauty.

Soon bids were being placed, and although the thought of purchasing this man in front of you seemed unfathomable, you couldn't resist impulsively raising the paddle high into the air.

"13,000! 13,000 for..oh, and well if it isn’t the Princess herself, ladies and gentleman!" The entire room turned their attention from the auctioneer to you, causing you to squirm uncomfortably in your seat.

As you looked back at the stage, the man's gaze locked with yours. His eyebrows furrowed harshly and he shot you a piercing glare causing your heart to ache. 

"He's going to be difficult to break in." Your father disgruntled.

"You told me to bid."

"13,000, going once! Going twice! Sold to our Majesty and the Princess!" Your father rose from his seat, you instinctively followed. Waving and smiling as the men and women in the crowd erupted in applause.

As you glanced back at the stage, a wave of dread washed over you as you watched them forcefully drag the man away and out of your sight. Sorrow-filled, you tore your gaze away and hurriedly followed in his footsteps.

As he stood by the reception desk, meticulously filling out paperwork and a bill of sale. Your attention was drawn to the two familiar men who had been escorting individuals on an off stage.

They seemed to be engaged in a conversation with your father, he discreetly offered them a few coin each, before he turned and handed you a pen.

"What’s this for?" You ask, your voice filled with uncertainty. "Ownership papers." His reply caused you to freeze.

It was hard to believe that this was actually happening. You would be this man's owner. He would become your possession.

"Father… I-I'm not sure if I can-" You stammered, your voice trembling.

"That's enough." He said, silencing you.

It was astonishing, how effortlessly your father made you remember just how easy it was to hate him. He had managed to portray this as nothing more than a point of sale, stripping away all humility.

Swallowing down your tears, you leaned over to hastily scribble your signature at the paper’s edge. Every letter and each stroke of the pen, another stab wound to your heart.

You dropped the pen as if it had burned you, walking out of the building and leaving your father inside. 

As you caught your breath out on the sidewalk, a laughing bunch of children dashed by you. Joyfully passing a vibrant red rubber ball amongst each other.

Their contagious laughter brought a fleeting smile to your face, but it soon faded as rearing envy flooded your chest. You longed to once be part of their innocent joy.

Your father appeared from behind you and as the carriage arrived he promptly took his seat without bothering to spare you a glance.

You took a moment to look for where they might have placed the man of such impending size. It would be difficult to hide a man of his stature, even on something as grand as the royal carriage.

As you glanced at Louis. He met your gaze before casting his eyes behind him towards the rear.

You cautiously approached the back of the carriage, stealing a glance around the corner to catch a small glimpse of him.

There he was, shackled securely to the luggage rack sitting upright on the short, compact shelf.

You swiftly glanced over your shoulder, ensuring that your father hadn't caught you gazing inquisitively at the cryptic man.

"Princess?" A gravely, somber voice broke the silence.

Startled, you jumped in surprise caught off guard by the sudden sound. Turning back to face the man who remained bound in place. 

You approached him cautiously, his appearance became even more unsettling. Although his face remained somewhat concealed, the deep scars that were etched into his skin were too distracting to ignore.

The long jagged scars that scattered across his face. Remnants of a past wound ran across his nose. His face, a roadmap of strength and survival.

Cutting deeply over his lips like a badge of honor. Saw-toothed and jagged, narrowly missing his eye, dividing his eyebrow and cheek with a single stroke, which only added to his allure.

Each scar, a testament to a life lived, resiliently.

Your eyes welled up with tears, brimming and threatening to overflow. The feeling of self-disgust washed over you, utterly ashamed at what you had done. The depths you had sunk, purchasing him as if he were mere property.

"Everythin’ a’right there, Princess?" His voice was hoarse and deep, sending a shiver down your spine. Never before had the sound of someone's voice evoked such a whirlwind of emotions within you.

"Don’t call me that." You snapped, feeling far from deserving of such a title. At the moment you felt nothing like a princess. A princess was strong, courageous, and compassionate, someone who helped others, not oppressed them.

He seemed familiar with the tone of your voice and with a stern expression turned to look away. "No! I-I’m sorry. I just… I just hate being called that." You stammered.

"Then wha' is it I call you?"

Your ears hummed in pleasure, as he played with your name a few times under his breath.

"And you? What shall I call you?" You asked him nervously.

"Anythin' you please." He gazed at you intensely, causing you to shyly glance down at your hands.

"No, I want to know your name." You insisted, shaking your head.

"Simon." He stated sharply.

"Simon…" You repeated, before anxiously biting your bottom lip. Mesmerized, you couldn't tare your eyes away from his intense crimson gaze as it slowly drifted down to your mouth.

The sudden sound of your father's voice calling your name caused you to gasp, releasing your flushed lip. Shattering the moment, you turned your attention towards the front of the carriage.

Glancing back at the mysterious man. "I’m sorry, I’m truly so sorry." You panicked, stepping away, rushing to take your seat.

As you made your way back to the castle, the ride was filled with an eerie silence.

Once you’d arrived home and stepped out of the carriage, the sound of jingling chains caught your attention.

Your father disappeared into the castle, leaving you alone with Simon. Watching as Louis released him from his restraints.

You couldn't help but feel the stir of curiosity and anger emanating from his gaze, freezing you in place. 

Perhaps it was the countless years of torment he endured, that over time had hardened his natural state.

He stood tall, towering over your own figure. He was incredibly intimidating, and with each passing minute, the thought of fleeing became increasingly tempting.

Simon possessed an imposing build, with muscles that commanded attention. His blonde hair was too long and unruly, but that only added to his overall delphic demeanor.

However, his facial hair proved to be quite distracting, diverting the attention from his striking features.

His tattered clothing barely held together, falling apart at the seams, while his feet remained bare.

Your boots protected your feet from the sharp gravel stones, and although you were aware that he didn't experience pain in the same manner as you did, it still must’ve been somewhat uncomfortable. His overall appearance upset you.

"I’m sorry." You mumbled softly, casting your gaze downwards in shame.

"You keep apologizing."

He sounded annoyed, angry, his tone filled with irritation.

"I don't know what else to say." Closing your eyes to keep the tears at bay. With a shake of your head and a sniffle, you took a deep breath to compose yourself.

The sound of hurried footsteps on the splintered rock caught your attention. You turned to see Marianne as she made her way towards you.

It only took a call of your name for you to run to her. Enveloping you into her warm embrace, cradling your head into her chest. 

Overwhelmed by the intensity of emotions you broke down, no longer strong enough to hold back your tears. Sobs racked through your throat, causing your shoulders to tremble with each wail of grief.

In that moment, Simon's presence faded into the background. With tender gestures and the gentle stroking of your hair, Marianne comforted you. Her soothing words reassured you, easing your tears.

"Louis?! Louis?!" Marianne's voice rang out, beckoning the man who had disappeared for only a moment.

"What has happened?!" He exclaimed angrily, his accusatory gaze fixated on Simon.

"He’s done nothing." Marianne interjected, her voice calm yet firm. "You're well aware of the princess's nature."

Simon remained stuck in place, utterly surprised at your sudden outpour of emotion.

Throughout his years, he had encountered countless young women, but witnessing, a princess of all people, weeping uncontrollably in the embrace of someone who, by all appearances, shared his vampiric nature, seemed unfathomable.

Marianne regarded Simon with an inscrutable expression, her gaze impossible to decipher. "Louis, escort him to the bathing chambers. See to it that he is cleaned and attired appropriately before bringing him to the princess's quarters. We shall await his arrival there."

She instructed, gently tugging at your weeping form as she led you towards the grand castle. 

"Goodness Marianne, it was absolutely awful." You said once you had distanced yourself from the men, finding the courage to explain yourself.

"They were all beaten and chained, some of them so weak they couldn't even stand on their own. It's sickening that I participated in such a thing. Heavens, I bought a man."

Tears continued to stream down your face as she guided you indoors. "It's alright now, my dear, don’t worry. All is well. Let’s get you cleaned up, shall we?"

Simon squeezed into the porcelain tub, sinking comfortably against its back with his arms draped over the sides. He’d cut his hair, shaved his beard, and meticulously scrubbed all the dirt off his scarred skin, leaving it free from any traces.

As he indulged in the soothing warmth of the water, his mind wandered back to you.

Your wide tear-filled eyes that glistened as you looked up at him. Lashes that appeared fuller as they clung together from the tears cascading down your flushed cheeks.

The remembrance of your disheveled state, stirred a sense of melancholy deep within him.

Letting out a heavy sigh, he submerged himself beneath the water's surface.

Despite the fact that Louis had provided Simon with the largest clothes he could find. With his impressive height and broad build, they still seemed to be slightly too snug for his frame.

The shirt appeared to be undersized. It fell short, just below his hips, and was a bit snug around his shoulders. On the other hand, the old pair of boots that were given to him fit perfectly.

Louis guided him through the castle and when they finally reached your door, Louis left him standing in the hallway. Simon stood there for a moment unsure about what might lay beyond the door. 

Sitting in your usual spot by the window, your lace-up heeled boots lay untied on the floor beside you. Sensing a change in the room, you turned around, anticipating Marianne. However, you were surprised when you saw Simon approaching.

Finally, with his hair cut short and his face clean-shaven, you could catch a glimpse of his true self. Though, his presence seemed so estranged in your feminine room.

You stood up, suddenly anxious. Yet, his height startled you and you took a clumsy step back, accidentally hitting the wooden bench with your heel, causing you to awkwardly plop down onto your rear end.

As soon as Marianne stepped in, you quickly stood back on your feet. Gently smoothing down the fabric of your skirt, attempting to alleviate the shakiness of your hands. 

Simon obediently sat down into a chair not too far from him upon Marianne's request, and you gracefully resumed your own seat as well. Simon found it peculiar how willingly you followed Marianne's instructions.

"Simon, you are not t- Marianne..." You interjected, cutting her off.

From the moment you entered your bedroom, you had made it clear that she was not to address him in the same manner as the other servants.

Marianne let out a sigh before starting again. "Hello, Simon. My name is Marianne, the queen's lady-in-waiting. However, for all practical purposes, I have been taking care of the princess since she was a young girl."

Simon glanced back and forth between the two of you, catching your gaze as you observed him from your perch by the window. 

"To ensure a seamless transition, there are just a handful of guidelines you need to adhere to." She informed him.

"Firstly, you will be residing in the servant chambers. Louis will assign you daily tasks to keep you occupied. Once you complete your duties, you are free to engage in any activities of your choice. Feel free to explore the castle grounds, take care of the animals and crops, or anything else that keeps you busy." She continued.

"However, you must always be attentive to the Princess herself. For you are to be devoted to her." Simon glanced in your direction, immediately catching sight of your somber expression, despite your attempts to hide it from him.

"It is strictly prohibited to enter the west wing of the castle. The library and ballroom, on the other hand, can be accessed with prior permission from the king, queen, or the princess." She finished. 

After she’d gone over a few more things she’d eventually excused herself.

Once Marianne left your bedroom, you followed her to the door, closing it behind her. A heavy sigh escaped your lips as you turned back to face Simon.

Marianne had encouraged you to make an attempt at talking with him. It wasn’t everyday a pale fresh face was introduced to the castle.

You found him standing in the middle of the room, his expression filled with uncertainty. "You have questions."

There was a brief moment of silence, before he suddenly spoke, taking a chance on your unusual demeanor. "Do I 'ave permission t'speak freely?"

"You don't need my permission to do anything." You replied honestly, yet, intrigued by his request. 

"Neve' met someone like you." Simon paused, his voice filled with genuine curiosity.

Yet, his words caught you off guard, causing a blush to creep up your cheeks. "What do you mean?" You asked, genuinely surprised by his confession. 

"All m’years, I've met thousands of people..." Simon explained, his tone filled with a mix of vulnerability and obligation.

"Ya’ see, I have been tortured, beaten, punished, abused..."

A lump formed in your throat, and tears welled up in your eyes as he confessed. "Stop that..." You whimpered softly, your voice barely audible.

"...but the first day I meet you, you apologized for nothin’." His voice remained steady. "You call me by my name, and allow me to call you by yours..." He stated in confusion.

"Simon.."

"I am at your command, your highness. I will not deny it... Simon, don't..."

You couldn't help but stare at the floor. Your throat constricted, a heavy lump settling in it, making it difficult for you to speak.

Simon's words struck a chord within you.

"I never wanted things to be like this." You confess, taking a step closer to him, unable to keep your distance.

"I never wanted to be trapped within these walls, raised by guards and maids instead of my own parents. Told how to dress, how to behave, how to speak, even how to feel. Forever alone, mocked, ridiculed..." Closing the gap between you, you continued. 

"I may not know what it is like to be one of you, and I can never truly understand the pain of what you've been through, but I do know what it's like to have no control over your own life. To have every decision made for you. So, when I apologize, it's not for nothing. It's for everything. Everything that has ever happened to you because of me..."

As you stood just a step away from him. His face, a mixture of confusion and bewilderment.

"...so I find myself apologizing, repeatedly. Even though I know you may not believe me. I can no longer continue living this facade. Pretending that everything is okay, when it's far from." You let a breathless laugh escape your lips.

"I refuse to treat you in the same manner as my father would, and I was only at that stupid auction today because he insisted I had to be. So, please understand that I cannot treat you with anything less than kindness... and nothing you do or say can ever change that." 

As you looked up at him, your hand softly touched his forearm, which dangled lazily by his side. Looking up at him, his captivating eyes met yours, an unbreakable connection.

They portrayed a deep sense of astonishment as you confessed, causing you to avert your gaze shamefully. However, you couldn't help but look back at him, wanting to appear courageous in the presence of such an overwhelmingly, intimidating man.

Simon was bewitched, an enchanted feeling he had never experienced before consumed him completely, leaving no doubt in his mind at your sincerity.

Initially, he had pictured you as a spoiled, immature, arrogant princess, who'd come from a privileged, lavish life. Someone who had everything handed to them on a silver platter, attended private classes and never missed a lesson.

Although, as he gazed at you, he saw the complete opposite.

The rosy blush on your cheeks, a beautiful indication that your heart pumped with life, and the sparkle in your eyes revealed a shimmer of hope for the future.

At your chest tightening confession, Simon realized that despite where he came from, an environment filled with poverty and hardship, where tainted hands met violence and hurt, you'd still welcome him with kindness and warmth. Something he hadn't felt since he was human.

"Please, do not make this difficult for me." You pleaded with him.

"I'm certain that the years you remain here will fade in comparison to the rest of your life, but it will be my entire existence."

Little did you realize just how wrong you were. Simon was already well aware that his time here would trump all the years he'd existed.

He knew that you, would surpass all the people he'd spent his everlasting eternity with.

The past few months remained somewhat peaceful. You had yet to ask much from Simon, other than helping hand here and there.

To be truthful, you were slightly embarrassed at your initial introduction of yourself, and your thoughts on the whole situation made you reluctant to ask things of him. However, that didn't mean you weren't observant.

Despite both of your seemingly busy schedules, it didn't deter you from watching him closely as he worked.

Tending to the horses and other animals in the stables. The times you witness him and Louis engaged in deep conversation.

He was truly a captivating sight to behold. You'd study him, working away, out in the fields, watching as he effortlessly hoisted those hefty bales of hay.

A task which would typically require the strength of two mortal men, he made, seem like child's play.

On hotter days, there were moments when you would catch him clad, in nothing but a pair of trousers and boots. His tunic-shirt, casually tossed over the fence as he tirelessly carried on with his work.

It was during these days, you'd take your time when admiring his naked upper body. With strong, powerful muscles rippling beneath scarred, sweat glistening skin. He was undeniably breathtaking.

He'd once asked you for permission to use the library and you had assured him that he no longer needed to ask your approval.

In fact, you'd even told him to let anyone causing him trouble know that it was you who had granted him access.

You'd ran into him a few times there, when gathering books your instructors told you to bring along to class.

Conversations were always short, neither of you talked very much. Simply a few brief, fleeting words regarding what each of you were reading or how you had been passing the time.

Once you began to feel anxious or perhaps even a bit flustered, you'd politely excuse yourself. Scurrying off to find solace in some deep, hidden corner of the castle.

Simon always found you incredibly strange. He was well aware of the fact that he had captured your attention, as he could feel your eyes fixed on him during numerous occasions.

In fact, he would often find himself going the extra mile just to amuse you. Whether it was casually removing his sweat soaked shirt or deliberately taking a bit more time to complete his tasks, knowing that you would be watching his every move.

It wasn't until your father had confronted you about your tutors' complaints, regarding your lack of focus during lessons. How they'd caught your attention slipping, or how easily you got distracted, often gazing out the window lost in your own thoughts, 'daydreaming' was what they'd called it.

As a result, he summoned you to his study, where he proceeded to ridicule you about how childish you were being. To waste their time and his precious coin on classes that you so stupidly couldn't comprehend, or didn't have the mental capacity to follow along. 

His words cut like a knife, devoid of any kindness or compassion. His only purpose, to shatter the illusions you had created in your head, and to demand your undivided attention.

You quickly left his study, tears streaming down your face. Hurriedly, rushing through the grand halls of the castle. Your sole mission was to reach your bedroom, where you could finally surrender to the comfort of your bed and release all the pent-up emotions through a torrent of tears.

Yet, you were interrupted at the top of the stairs where you'd collided with someone with such force, you thought it would surely bring you both sprawling to the ground.

Instinctively, you threw your hands out to catch yourself, only to find them resting against a solid chest covered in well-defined muscles. A strong arm encircled tightly around your waist, keeping you from collapsing onto the ground in a puddle of tears.

Simon had spent quite some time in the library, secretly hoping he'd encounter you. Unfortunately, luck was never on his side. He'd abandoned his pursuit, making his way back to his quarters when he suddenly caught the sound of your hurried footsteps. The rampant rhythm of your heartbeat, and the unmistakable, sickly scent of your sorrow.

There were only a few things Simon found enjoyable about being what he was. Among them, was his heightened senses. With his newfound sense of smell and enhanced hearing, he had the luxury of knowing exactly how a person was feeling.

On occasion, he was able to catch the skipped beat of your heart, when he paid you a subtle compliment and the, oh so, delightful scent of your arousal that filled the air when he'd 'accidentally' brush up against you.

However, in this moment he didn't find it quite as appealing. The sight of freshly fallen tears, cascading down your flushed cheeks, and the sound of each wet breath you took in an effort to compose yourself, which had no effect, had Simon's chest constricting.

"Your highness? What has happened?" The sight of your distress caused a surge of anger coursing through him at the thought of someone causing you pain.

The unexpected appearance of Simon caused you to feel a sudden sense of relief. As his rough, calloused fingertips gently brushed away the tears streaming down your cheeks, and as his words registered in your mind, you shook your head.

Taking a large step away from him, distanced yourself from his comforting embrace. You swiftly wiped away any remanence of your tears, before crossing your arms tightly over yourself, in an attempt, determined to comfort yourself.

"Nothing. I am just being childish, that's all." You reassured him. Putting emphasis on childish, in reference to your father's patronizing words.

Simon tried to cheer you up teasingly. "Ain't a princess not suppose' t'lie?" Unfortunately he hadn't had much practice in the matter and his attempt only seemed to make things worse.

"You're right. I'm sorry-I just..." Your voice fractured, like delicate glass as you started to apologize, but he interrupted you.

"No. No, 's not what I meant." He said gently. Confused, you looked up at him. "You don't need to lie, not to me."

Reaching out, his fingers delicately brushed away a wayward piece of hair from your face, tucking the stray strand behind your ear, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

You inhaled deeply, preparing to speak, the words escaped your lips softly. "I'm falling behind in my studies." Simon would've asked why, but deep down, he feared he already knew the answer. Him.

"'s trivial." He said, attempting once again to displace your worries.

"To you." You sighed, while he simply hummed in response.

"Suppose."

Simon was never one for words, so he thought of something else that might cheer you up. "Come with me." He uttered unexpectedly, catching you off guard.

"What?... Where?" You asked him puzzled.

This time, he reached his hand out slowly, gently brushing against your wrist and palm, before finally catching the tips of your fingers with his.

Without saying a word, he led you carefully by his side, guiding you out of the castle entrance and towards the stables. You couldn't help but giggle uncontrollably as Simon tightened his grip on your hand, intertwining your fingers.

With your free hand, you lifted the skirt of your dress, in order to keep up with Simon's quickening pace. "Where are you taking me?" You asked him playfully. He didn't respond, instead pulling you closer to him as you approached the fence of the pasture.

"Simon I'm not allowed this far." You warned looking up at him. Once again, he paid no mind to your words, smiling down at you as he grabbed you by the waist to hoist you over the fencing.

"Simon!" You shrieked his name. Grasping his sturdy upper arms, at the feeling of him effortlessly lifting you off the ground and into the air. Once he set you back down on your feet, he placed one hand onto the railing, leaping to your side.

"Would you just come on." He said, grabbing your hand once more pulling you with him into the open fields of grass.

Suddenly, he came to a stop, positioning you in front of him. You could feel the firmness of his chest against your back, while his large hands firmly grasped onto your hips protectively.

"Si-Shh, shh, shh. Look." He interrupted you softly, gently nodding his head for you to look forward.

Straight ahead, in front of you both, was a harras of horses. Gracefully trotting over the lush grassy knoll. A handful of playful foals keeping pace beside their nurturing mothers.

As the sun began its descent behind the towering trees, it painted the flowery hills with radiant beams of golden light.

The view before you was absolutely breathtaking, and despite all your years living in the castle, you never imagined you'd see something quite this beautiful.

You gently rested your hands on Simon's, which were now wrapped loosely around your waist and leaned back into the comfort of his strong embrace. In that moment, all your previous worries and doubts seemed to fade away.

Simon felt you relax into him, drawing you tighter against his body, keeping you close.

He gently lowered his head, his nose grazing against the full of your hair and he took a deep breath, inhaling in your delicious scent, savoring the intoxicating aroma of vanilla that enveloped you both.

As his words escaped his lips, a gentle touch of his breath caressed the shell of your ear sending a delightful shiver down your spine. "Beautiful, isn't it?" His tone, a confident statement, rather than a question.

You gave a subtle nod, your voice currently untrustworthy as Simon's head remained nestled in your hair.

His hands began to wander. His brain, no longer thinking clearly as his senses grew hazy. His mind, a clouded mess, suddenly consumed by you.

With one hand he gently traced the curve of your hip, gripping at the softness of your plush thighs through the fabric of your skirt.

His other hand ventured upwards, long fingers spreading wide as they glided over your rib cage, brushing against your sternum just below your breast.

As his lips drug against the delicate skin of your neck and a surge of warmth enveloped you, your eyes widened in recognition.

You quickly spun around to distance yourself from him, but his arm remained securely around your waist holding you firmly in place.

Your hands reached out to push at his chest, but the intense look of hunger in his eyes, caused you to freeze.

How foolish of you, allowing him to lure you out here all alone. As much as you were reluctant to accept it, he was still a predator and his thirst for blood, veracious.

As his hand gently cradled your cheek, his fingers tangled in your wild hair. His eyes burned with an insatiable lust as he tilted your head.

You watched him salivate, his tongue darting out, licking his lips at your desirable taste.

A wavering sigh escaped your lips, leaving you utterly breathless. Fear gripped your trembling hands as he leaned closer, drawing you towards his awaiting mouth.

You knew there was no calling for help, no one would arrive fast enough to save you from him.

With a heavy heart, you closed your eyes as a single tear fell down your cheek. Bracing yourself for the inevitable pain, accepting of his bitter-sweet bite of death.

His cold breath fanned against your lips, before a burning warmth enveloped them. Pleasurable tingles coursed through your jaw, gradually ascending to your face, caressing your cheekbones and even reaching your hair, which was held captive in his strong hand.

The rough texture of his scarred lips was nothing compared to the pillowiness of them.

Simon deepened the kiss, stealing the breath from your lungs.

You had never experienced such a sweet sensation before. You were still young and hadn't been trusting enough to share such an intimate moment like this with somebody.

A kiss filled with such an overwhelming sense of passion, surpassing any tenderness you had ever experienced. Your body relaxed, your hands, once tightly clutching his shirt out of fear, now clung to it with longing, yearning to pull him closer to you.

His mouth parted, gently drawing your lower lip inside. His tongue caressing the tender flesh as he kissed you furiously. He tasted like tea, earthy with a hint of something sweet, perhaps cherries or marzipan.

Simon couldn't get enough of you. The soft curve of your waist, perfectly fitting his hand, as if it were meant to keep you by his side.

Since his arrival, he'd been yearning for more. Longing for your taste, and to let you consume every part of him completely. The sickly-sweet flavor of your lips, the taste of your mouth that he savored like the most cherished elixir.

The sudden nip of his teeth against your plump skin stung, jolting you back to reality. The instant your eyes widened in astonishment, you pulled away from him.

Simon's brows were knitted together, as though the absence of your lip brought him some kind of unbearable pain. He breathed deeply, his chest, rising and falling, as if it carried the weight of his yearning.

He caught sight of the solitary tear that had escaped your eye, his thumb brushing it away along with your fears. You thought about how you'd gotten yourself here. How you had been so blind, up until this moment.

"Simon..." His name had never before sounded so beautiful coming from trembling lips.

Was it perhaps because he had kissed you silly, until you became lightheaded and breathless, or simply his ears playing tricks on him, he didn't know. Whatever it was he didn't care, his only priority was to somehow kiss you again.

"...why would you do that?" You said feverishly.

"Didn't think y’d mind." His voice was slurred as he spoke somberly. A hint of something playful in his tone that sent an unfamiliar sensation through your body.

Simon could smell the sweetness of your desire, yet your face, a mix of confusion and uncertainty. "You didn't ask..."

Of course that's what you wanted, he thought. A proper kiss for a proper girl. He smiled down at you, your eyes, filled with emotions, glistened innocently as they met his gaze.

"’ought ya might'a liked it." His gaze was soft as he shifted back and forth between your wide eyes and swollen lips.

"I might have if you'd asked."

In all honesty you did love like it. In fact it was better than you could've ever imagined. Although, it wasn't like you had anything to compare it to.

"Simon..." The purr that hummed in his chest sent tingles through you. He leaned down again dragging his nose along the exposed skin of your clavicle.

You flinched, the feeling of mouth so close to the bare skin of your neck. You shivered and couldn't help but whimper at the feeling.

Simon could smell your fading aroma of pleasure, replaced by the reeking scent of fear. He pulled away to look at you but you diverted your gaze. Looking anywhere but his captivating eyes.

"What's got ya so frightened, Dovie?" Amazed at how easy he could tell how you were feeling, you stuttered out a reply.

"I-We can't... If my father- Wait... how could you tell?"

"It reeks." He said blatantly.

"Y-you can smell fear?"

"Mhm..." He leaned back in, kissing up the side of your throat, mumbling against your skin between each one. "and sorrow... happiness... arousal..." You blushed deeply, bringing a hand up to hide your flushed cheeks.

"None of that, Dovie. 'm a proud man, like to see what I do to you."

The sun had set leaving the sky a dark blue-gray. The wind had picked up, the breeze whipping against your warm skin and tangling your hair into a mess.

Simon's hands began to move up and down against your arms before brushing back your wild strands. You leaned closer to him, his body bracing against the wind protecting you from the nipping cold.

"S'time to getcha inside, little one."

⇠ call of duty masterlist. part.2⇢

so this was originally just going to be one fic but it got way too long. so I figured I'd break it into two, maybe a third if y'all have some ideas/requests on how I could continue it <3 next part will be smutty!

© ladywuvly please do not steal, copy, or translate any of my work onto other platforms!

#ladywuvly. m.list #18+ content #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost call of duty #ghost x female reader #ghost x reader #simon riley #fanfic #navi. #18+ blog #fandom #vampireslave!simonriley x princess!reader #vampire!simon ghost riley

[helaelaemond]

The Princes and I - Daemon/Aemond/Reader

Pairing:  Daemon x Aemond x she/her AFAB reader

Word count: 3.4k

Summary: Daemon is an old lover of yours. He invites you to spend some time with him and his new lover, his nephew Prince Aemond.

Content warning(s): canon-typical incest (uncle/nephew), brief mentions of brother/sister incest, brief mentions of uncle/niece incest

INCLUDES: oral (m receiving, f receiving), fingering (m receiving, f receiving), breast worship, vaginal sex (f receiving), anal sex (m receiving). Top!Aemond, bottom!Daemon

Masterlist

With a smile, Daemon opened the door to his chambers. He was flushed under the collar and his ears were red and he was happy, and the sight of you in his doorway almost made him laugh in delight. 

“My lady,” he greeted you fondly. He let go of Aemond’s hand so that he could take both of yours and kiss your cheek. You so warm. 

“My prince,” you replied with a sly smile. “I do hope I am not disturbing you.” 

“Certainly not.” He pulled back only slightly, and couldn’t stop himself from pulling you closer by the waist. “Thank you for joining us.” 

For a moment, you closed your eyes and tilted your chin up until your nose brushed his, and your smile was one of satisfaction. “Thank you for inviting me.” 

It was you who broke the touch first. With your hands in his, fingers stroking the worn skin around his knuckles, you pulled back to look at Aemond by his side. Your smile did not fade. When your gazes met, his cheeks turned pink. 

“Nephew, this is an old friend of mine. My lady, this is Aemond.” 

Despite trying to comb his hair back in some semblance of dignity since Daemon had grasped it, some had fallen across Aemond’s eyes. He touched the sleeve of his tunic and blinked. The sapphire in place of a missing eye glinted in the firelight “It is an honour to meet you, my lady.” 

“The honour is mine, my prince. I have wished to meet you for many years.” As introductions were made, Daemon gently tugged on your hands to bring you into the chambers, and the guards outside closed the doors. You were alone, shut away from the world. You would have peace. 

He made a fuss of you, unclasping the velvet cloak from your throat to reveal the soft dress beneath. Daemon thought of you when he smelled lavender, and you wore the scent now. And the colour. After setting your cloak on a table close to the door, he drank in the sight of you. The purple dress was almost sheer, soft and light and floating about you like a spring breeze. Your arms and shoulders were bare and on your skin, constellations of freckles splashed from head to toe. The slits of the dress were as high as your waist, allowing him glimpses of your strong thighs. The neckline was plunging and about your neck, you wore a sparkling gem set into silver. 

Aemond wore the dragon pin Daemon had procured him. You wore the eagle pendant he had bought. He bit his lip as he looked between you, trying not to grin. 

“You are most kind,” Aemond said stiffly. His lips had gone thin and pale as his uncle had revealed more of your skin, run his hands over you in light touches. You watched as he bit the inside of his cheek.  

“I hear many great tales of you,” you mused with a gentle laugh. Your hair shifted like starlight as your head moved to the side. “By all rights, you ought to be a knight. Or perhaps the heir to a king.” 

“Don’t forget yourself,” Daemon chided you. Softening his words, though, he ran his knuckles up your arm and to the chain around your neck. He touched the old gift, before ghosting his fingers in remembrance of how he used to choke you. 

Turning to look at him, mere inches from your face, you licked your lips and smiled. “I do not forget myself, my prince. I am merely humbled to be before two such great men. Two Targaryens, gods among men." 

Daemon snorted. "I never much appreciated the honey on your tongue. But how skilled you are with it when you do not speak."

"You wound me," you replied with a raised brow, scarcely able to hide your grin. "And you lie. If you truly believed what you say, you would have tired of me many seasons ago. But still, after all these years, you call me to your side."

He couldn't resist kissing you deeply then. The intensity of it took your breath away - his fingers clutched the silver around your neck and yanked you closer, while his tongue pressed hungrily to the inside of your teeth. "You're not my only friend now," he grunted between kisses. "Are you going to be my nephew's friend, too?"

After a long moment, you pushed Daemon away with heavily lidded eyes. You glanced over at the young prince, and held out your hand. He took it hesitantly. “Any friend of my prince's is a friend of mine, Aemond. I think you quite dear to him, and I’m glad to finally make your acquaintance.” 

His shoulders visibly relaxed as the introductions began to shed their formalities, and he echoed the words back to you. He offered you wine and you accepted. Daemon watched you interact so easily and quickly. He watched how Aemond raked his eyes over you, and saw the tell-tale signs of how much he was beginning to enjoy you. Liked looking at you. Being near you. It mingled with the lust still rushing through his veins. 

The evening was slipping into night. Outside, though, it was still warm and the clear sky twinkled with a hundred thousand stars. Daemon followed his lovers, past and present, out onto the balcony and took with him a goblet of wine. On the wide patio were soft sofas and deep chairs and you and Aemond had chosen to sit opposite each other. He took a chair, and you took a sofa. Daemon leaned over Aemond and kissed him long and slow before settling on the sofa next to you. From the way he shifted in the chair, Daemon knew it had done nothing to soften Aemond’s desire. He watched him as he took a sip of wine, imagining him riding his cock on this very sofa. 

But then he looked at you whose gaze was on the stars, and Aemond was replaced with you. How pretty you used to look atop him, riding him and taking your pleasure from him however you liked. You were such a bright soul; it made it all the more enjoyable to see you enjoy yourself with him however you liked. He got to see a side of you that few others did. 

His robes were soft and did not hide his desire. When you looked at him, it did not escape your notice. The corner of your lips twitched but you didn’t remark upon it. Given your state of dress, you had come to his rooms with your own expectations. 

“Aemond,” you said, tearing your eyes away from the hungry gaze of Daemon, “won’t you tell me the tale of how you came to Dragonstone? There are many rumours as to why - I am curious of the truth.”

Aemond leaned back in his chair and told the tale of his assignment to Dragonstone following the death of Viserys to keep the peace. You listened curiously. When it came to the matter of him essentially being held hostage, he looked to Daemon for reassurance. Settled comfortably back in cushions and enjoying the sound of his lover’s voice, Daemon had nodded slightly. You were discreet and trustworthy. 

“How curious,” you remarked with interest after a while. “There were many who assumed your brother would take up arms against the Queen.” 

Daemon smirked. “It is astounding what loyalty a few nights in my bed can inspire, isn't it, nephew?” 

On the chair across from you, Aemond blushed deeply. 

“And how did it come to be that you… found one another?” 

“The queen introduced us. She, ah…” Daemon hesitated, and glanced over at Aemond. He inclined his head once, granting permission. “Would you really like to know?” 

Smiling, you nodded. 

Daemon moved closer on the sofa to you until he was almost behind you. Aemond’s gaze burned into you as he ghosted his lips across your shoulder. He left a whispering kiss on your neck and breathed against your ear. “I found him in Rhaenyra’s lap, full of the queen's fingers and cock untouched, almost mewling. He looked so pretty, so wanton. I couldn’t refuse when he almost begged for me.” 

Your eyes closed. Your hand grasped his thigh, air suddenly stolen from your lungs. “Is that so?” 

“You should see him, my lady. He is so perfect when he is given what he needs.” 

“I’m sure.” 

“What do you need?” 

Pulling away slightly, you looked back at him. “More than a few pretty words.” 

Daemon knew how to work you. Soft conversations, kind words, compliments, gentle touches. They filled the evening with them. Aemond stayed where he was, content to watch for now. He was a quick learner. 

“My prince,” you moaned softly. Daemon had stripped you bare and laid you on his bed and settled between your legs. How he had missed it here! His mouth found its place on your breast and he teased your nipple with his teeth and tongue. You never tired of the attention; you loved it. You sighed and scraped your nails over his scalp. Silver hair slipped through your fingers. “Yes.” 

Aemond hesitated at the foot of the bed. He wanted to watch, but he wanted to feel, too. Something about seeing your neck arch and thighs tremble just from the attention on your nipple had him leaking through his breeches, though, and just a touch of your speckled skin would be too much. 

Daemon sucked harder and teased your other nipple between long fingers. He pressed his knee hard between your legs and you swore. Immediately you found a rhythm against his knee and thigh and as he lavished attention on your chest, you chased your first orgasm. 

Aemond watched as you threw your head back and the intensity overtook you. Your whole body writhed and your legs shook and you pressed Daemon’s face tighter against you. Before you had the chance to come back down, he slid down your body and buried his mouth between your thighs. 

Aemond let out a soft and strained noise. He couldn’t see his lover’s lips against their guest but he could taste you in your mind. He could imagine how slick you were against Daemon’s chin and how your clit throbbed against his tongue. You grasped your breasts and pressed your nipples between your fingers in an echo of Daemon’s ministrations. You came quickly a second time. 

After, Daemon kissed your mouth and let you taste yourself on him. It made you laugh, made you wrap your arms around his neck. He stroked your cheek and whispered something soft to you. You nodded and kissed him one more time before letting him go. 

“Aemond,” he called out smugly. “Come to me, my prince.” 

It was strange, but Aemond didn't much mind the sarcastic tone his uncle had whenever he used his title.

You had stripped Aemond of his tunic but he had stopped you before you could unlace his trousers. He did not want you to think he would demand something of you that you weren't willing to give. But now he was half-mad with the need for both of you. For his uncle, for his lady. He heeded Daemon’s call. 

“Isn’t she beautiful?” Daemon murmured as he got up from the bed. He wore nothing but a smile and he took Aemond’s sharp face into his hands. 

“Yes,” came the whispered reply. 

“Do you want her?” 

He looked at you with glittering eyes. He could cry for how badly he did. But you were here for Daemon, not him. “How could anyone not?” 

“Taste her, nephew.” 

Your hair was fanned out around your head and shifted between starlit hues. You looked over at him with longing but asked nothing of him. He was here for Daemon, not you. 

“I would taste you, uncle.” He flushed when he whispered it. “Please?” 

The way they kept calling each other uncle and nephew was filthy. It made your cunt throb.

The kiss Daemon gave him was deep and needy. Aemond sucked on his tongue and bit his lip and sank to his knees. You propped yourself up on your elbows to watch as he took Daemon into his mouth with devotion in his eye that was absolute. Daemon dropped his head back and groaned. His fingers roughly grasped Aemond’s hair. Purple eye closed; blue sparkled. 

Without taking your eyes off the couple, you got up from the bed and took your place behind Daemon. His strong body was so familiar to you and as Aemond worshipped his cock, you touched every part of him that you could reach. Oil had been on the edge of the bed and without needing to think, you slicked three fingers and slipped two against his entrance. You kissed the seam between his shoulder and neck and he nodded, eyes closed. 

“Go on,” he demanded of you. Without needing to be told again, you pressed inside of him. He was so warm and tight about your fingers and you buried them to the knuckle. Every time he clenched thanks to Aemond’s ministrations, you smiled against his skin. 

It was impossible to see where Aemond had him in his mouth, but the noises were obscene. Wet and slippery and mingled with moans from both of them, grunts from Daemon and hums from Aemond, you nearly came from the sounds alone. But you held on. 

Daemon’s orgasm swept through him with a warning to his lovers. Aemond swallowed him greedily. He needed barely a moment to catch his breath before he stood up and kissed Daemon deeply. You peeked over his shoulder to watch them. It seemed as if Aemond had grown half a foot since the evening had begun. His confidence turned him to a giant. 

When the kisses, hot and needy and desperate, ended, you gently pulled your fingers from his body and felt eyes watching you. Aemond was so close now, you could see every fleck of starlight in his eye. The depths of it made you curious and you blinked. He blushed again. 

“Aemond,” you whispered. His lips parted as if the air had been knocked from him, as if the world had stopped. 

“Isn’t he a wonder?” Daemon said with satisfaction. Aemond’s gaze darted to him and softened, and he welcomed another kiss greedily. Slender fingers ran up Daemonr’s back and into his hair. You watched with fire in your belly, between your legs. 

When you stepped back towards the bed, Daemon stopped you. He turned and grasped your hand and pulled you to them so you all shared an embrace. The air between you was thick and all you could think of was how your skin was pressed against Aemond’s pretty chest, his strong stomach. Hesitant hands almost traced the curved planes of his muscles, but instead, they found their place on Daemon, familiar Daemon, demanding Daemon. 

“You look so beautiful when you come,” you told him. “I missed the noises you make.” 

He laughed and leaned down and kissed you. You could almost taste Aemond on him. You smiled against his mouth. Your hand traced down his stomach between his legs and found him half hard again. 

“I want you inside me, my prince.” 

“How much do you want me inside you?” 

You took his hand and pressed it against your cunt and he slipped his fingers between your swollen lips. You bit your lip. “I am aching for you.” 

A noise came from the back of his throat. “Bend over the bed. I would like to have you while Aemond has me.” 

You looked up with a smug grin. "You like him having you?"

Daemon gave Aemond an appreciative squeeze between his legs. "You would not believe how well his cock fills me up."

Aemond kissed his neck and sucked until Daemon had lost nearly all thought. He would be marked by morning. 

You took the hand that was not around Aemond's cock and led Daemon back to the bed. “I would look upon your face.” You lay back and spread your legs for him. 

His mouth watered to see you flushed red and spread wide for him, so slick and needy. He nodded and took his cock in hand. It slid through your folds and he pressed the head to grind across your clit and your eyes rolled back. You murmured words of encouragement before shifting your hips up in a silent beg for him to slip inside of you. 

The moment he pressed forward, he felt Aemond line up behind him. Strong arms wrapped around him from behind and fingers splayed across his chest. Aemond was dripping with seed and oil and with Daemon's hole already smooth from your ministrations, he was more than ready. The delight of your pressure welcomed him when he moved forward, and Aemond’s hardness stimulated him when he pressed back. 

You moved slowly at first to find their rhythm. Daemon moaned the name of both of his lovers. 

Then you begged to be fucked. Aemond thought of fucking you. Daemon thought of being fucked by both of you. Aemond was the first to change the pace. He slammed into Daemon and felt how his uncle clenched around him. He did it again, and again, and again, until it was a brutal rhythm that had you all panting, your groans mingling, names spilling from lips in a haze of delight and lust. 

“Aemond,” you begged. You were getting close. You reached blindly for his hand and found it on Daemon's back and your fingers laced together. 

Daemon’s hand ground against your clit and he leaned down to bite your nipple and suck your sensitive ear. When his head was pressed against your neck, you caught Aemond’s gaze. You held it when you came with high moans and hoarse shouts. You raked your nails down Daemon’s back who quickly followed. Aemond let himself go on Daemon’s back with Daemon’s hand grasping back against his thigh.

After, Aemond stumbled to fetch water and cloths before collapsing in sated sleepiness onto the bed. You and Daemon, satisfied and floating, cleaned one another and he gently wiped Aemond. Aemond shuffled up the bed and slipped under the covers and with Aemond at his side, he drifted off to sleep. 

“He really is quite beautiful,” you whispered after a time. “Does he always sleep in your bed?” 

Daemon smirked. "When he pleases me."

"And how often is that?"

"Most nights."

"What of the queen?"

"She likes to join us sometimes. Sometimes, she brings Aegon. A pathetic little thing, really, but so obedient." He kissed you and sucked on your lower lip until it made you moan. "You would enjoy him."

You grinned. "There are only so many Targaryens I can handle at once. I think two is my limit." You watched as Daemon's gaze turned to his sleeping nephew. A man grown, he was, but there was something innocent in the peace that had relaxed his scarred face as he slept.

It did not escape your notice how tenderly Daemon looked down at him. It was an expression you had not often seen him wear. Perhaps Aemond was more than just his play-thing. Carefully, so as not to disturb the young prince, you got up and began to pull your clothes back on.

“Where are you going?” Daemon asked somewhat indignantly.

“I thought you might prefer some privacy.” 

“Don't be ridiculous." He pulled back the bedsheets at the other side of Aemond. "Get in. Stay."

"Are you certain?"

He rolled his eyes. "Get in."

"And in the morning?"

"I'm going to watch him fuck you until you cry."

You looked over at Daemon with a raised brow. "Is that so?"

"It certainly is. Now, go to sleep. You will need your strength."

Resting your head on the soft pillow, you looked directly in front of you. Aemond lay sleeping between the two of you, and you could see every line, every eyelash, every freckle on his face. You blushed and buried your head into his hair as you tried to sleep. The thought of what was to come with the dawn kept you awake for a long time, though.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon x you #daemon x aemond x you #daemon x aemond x reader #aemond x daemon x you #aemond x daemon x reader #aemond x daemon #mine #daemond x you #daemond x reader

[sheeple]

More CoD thoughts!! This time medieval!au with concubine!König Warning(s): fem!reader (idk if that is a warning but good to know) / I canon (this) König as blond FIGHT ME pls don't / a mention of brushing hair (do I have to mention is? idk)

So imagine you are an empress

And König is this colonel who has fallen from grace. He lost a battle or something which resulted in many men dead

And now he's on his knees in front of you, face downcast and awaiting your judgement

You're sitting up on your throne and watching the man, thinking deeply about what to do with him

Yes, he made a mistake and your people expect him to be punished for it. But you can't deny that he has been a great strategist

"Leave us", you order

Once everybody has left the throne room, you stand up and saunter down the stairs, dragging your skirts behind you

Circling the crouching man, you trace his shoulders

"Remove your helmet, colonel."

His hands falter for a moment before he reaches up and reveals his scared face

Light blue eyes look up at you as blond hair falls into them

Finding him way too handsome to kill, you give him a proposition

Be your war advisor disguised as a concubine

Because he needs to be 'punished' in the eyes of your subjects, but also all your war and army advisors haven't been on a battlefield for decades and are idiots

Your advisor of royal customs has also been pestering you about finding a husband or starting a harem (as you dismissed your father's concubines the moment you took over the throne)

Two birds with one stone

König hates the idea at first, but he knows it's better than being executed

But he realises once he is led to his chambers that maybe this isn't soooo bad

It's the first time in years that he sleeps on a decent bed and has quality food in his belly so he's not complaining

The first time König joins you in your strategy meetings, he scares the crap out of your advisors

I mean... the man is two metres tall, bulky and has scars all over his body

It also doesn't help that he is shirtless, so his battle scars are on full display

Every time one of your advisors says something stupid or something he doesn't agree with, König grunts/scoffs

It makes you turn your head towards him and he bows down to whisper in your ear what he has to say

10/10 times he's right

And your advisors quickly realise that the man knows what he's talking about, that he's not just a concubine that you keep bringing with you

They hate him

One thing that König has been dreading is being called to your chambers. He knows it is the job of a concubine to please his empress, but he was forced into this position

So, when he is called to your chambers one evening, he mentally prepares for the worst

Except, it's not like that

When he's let into your room by the royal guards, he finds you seated at a table set for two people with a beaming smile

You raise to your feet as König bows deeply

"Come, join me for supper."

He's sceptical at first, expecting a catch

But you reassure him with a laugh that you won't force him to do anything he's opposed and that it's just a dinner

You ask questions about his life in the army and where he grew up, about how his youth was

It becomes a daily ritual for the both of you

In the beginning, you have to invite him. But after a while, he makes his way to your chambers on his own. It evolves to you finding him already lounging around when you come back from your duties of the day

One day, he helps you undo your miraculously crafted hairdo and since then it has become something that he just does as you wait for the servants to set the table and bring the food out

You close your eyes content as König rakes a comb through your hair, working out the knots

Eventually, you and König feel the need to spend more time together

It goes from you reading in your private gardens and him swinging a sword around

To him joining you for your day whenever he can and acting like an unofficial bodyguard

He scares off any and everyone who he deems too close to his empress

I personally would be spooked if this two-metre-tall, scantly clad man loomed over the shoulder of the person I try to talk to

It's not long before König starts to develop feelings for you

He knows that it's wrong

But it's the way you're looking at him, treating him like an equal and laughing at his stupid jokes that make his heart flutter every time you do so

He snaps one day when you and him are in your gardens

You have your head resting on his thigh as you read out loud your book, your body fully relaxed in the warmth of the sun and the shade of the trees

König watches how the sun makes your eyes look magical

It makes the butterflies in his belly go on a rampage

Deciding he can't handle you being so close to him anymore, he excuses himself and flees to the safety of his room

It confuses you

But it breaks your heart when he doesn't join you for dinner anymore

You go over your interactions with him in your head, in search of anything that warrants this behaviour

The only time that you see him is when there is a war council, but he keeps quiet and doesn't interject any of your advisors and generals

Your mood sours the longer it goes on, genuinely scaring your servants and the lords

Their usually happy and chatty empress has transformed into a shell and slowly dulls in colour

You don't notice it until your lady-in-waiting suggests you take a break to your summer home for a couple of weeks

So, arrangements are made and your more breathable clothes are packed into trunks and placed on the carriages

You hesitate in front of König's door, not sure if you should ask him if he wants to come with

He has been ignoring you for a while now

So, decide against it and just leave

You sunbath and swim in the ocean all wearing thin, white summer dresses that turn see-through when wet

Your lady-in-waiting sits on the side, her feet in the water as she watches you

"Empress, may I speak freely?"

And after you nod her question makes you choke

"Does the imperial concubine not please you anymore?"

Meanwhile, back at the castle...

König is driving himself mad

He has to be close to you, even if it means to be an actual concubine

So imagine his surprise when he can't find you anywhere and a servant tells him you're at your summer palace

He immediately goes to grab a horse and hurries towards you

You're quite shocked to see a panicked könig arrive and stumble over his feet to get to you

He drops to his knees as you sit in the dining room, his head hanging in shame and chest rising rapidly

"Please...", he begs, "my foolish heart has been stolen by you and I can't live like this anymore. Please, my empress, I would do anything for just a smidge of affection from you. Just say it and it's yours. I'll steal the moon and stars for you. I'll... I'll be naked and ready for you every night to do with me as you please. Be an obedient concubine. Just please..."

You lay a hand on his cheek and the man whimpers as he looks up at you with tears in his eyes

"You foolish man."

You kiss him with all your might, stealing his breath away

"You were always more than just my concubine."

#call of duty #call of duty imagine #call of duty scenario #call of duty au #call of duty x reader #call of duty x you #cod #cod imagine #cod scenario #cod au #cod x reader #cod x you #141 #141 imagine #141 scenario #141 au #141 x reader #141 x you #task force 141 imagine #task force 141 scenario #task force 141 au #task force 141 x reader #task force 141 x you #konig #konig imagine #konig scenario #konig au #konig x reader #konig x you #empress!reader

[flowerandblood]

Song from the Sea

[ Aemond • Targaryen x Greyjoy! • fem! oc!reader]

[warnings: sex content, angst, smut, domination]

[description: Aemond and Aegon arrive in the Iron Islands, to confirm the arrangements made years ago and the marriage of Lord Greyjoy's daughter to Aemond. (Anon Request) During a break on a long journey, at one of the taverns Aegon drags him to, Aemond meets a woman, who will change his life forever. (Anon Request) Smut, angst, sexual tension, domination.]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

The Iron Islands seemed to Aemond the ugliest place on earth that he had ever seen in his life. His future wife was from these regions. His father made a pact with Dalton Greyjoy years ago, thus securing a monopoly on the importation and trade of dragonglass and many other goods that could enrich the kingdom.

He and Aegon were to fly there to confirm the arrangements made several years ago and to set the date of the wedding, which was proposed by the king himself. He tried not to listen to the ironic tone of his drunken brother, whom he had just nursed at one of the inns, where he insisted that they stay during their journey on the dragon's back.

“Apparently all iron women have beards, brother, because they are half men. They're blunt and big, talk low and don't comb their hair, probably don't wash either. But well, you're so devoted to your family so you'll surely do what's right for the kingdom." He grunted as he sipped his beer from his big metal mug. They were both in cloaks with hoods over their heads.

Aemond carefully watched what was happening around, wanting to make sure that no one recognized them. He begged Aegon to continue their journey, but Aegon brushed him off, saying that he could go alone and he would join him later.

Aemond had promised his mother that he would not let Aegon humiliate the king in the eyes of the Ironborn, and he had to make sure that nothing uncontrollable happened. He pursed his lips at his words.

"Yes. I, unlike you, know what duty is." He hissed low, looking around. He turned his gaze quickly towards the front door as he heard it open with a loud creak of wood. Several hooded figures entered.

Two of them were quite elderly men, one with a long, white beard and an earring, the other completely shaven and covered in disturbing tattoos. The third figure was a woman, her waist-length, dark hair partially tied back, unruly curls around her face.

Her face was pale, her eyes seemed golden to him from a distance. She was a head shorter than both men. They were both talking to her quickly, apparently treating her as their companion, not a kidnapped maiden from a good family.

The three of them approached the counter, talking to the owner who greeted them cheerfully, obviously knowing them well, squeezing the men's hands. After placing their order, they approached one of the tables which was already occupied.

The men sitting there nodded and just stood up without a word, obviously fearing or respecting them. The three of them sat down, undressing. Only now did Aemond see that the girl was dressed similarly to him, in tight, leather, simple black outfit, consisting of a jacket and trousers.

"Are you even listening to me?" Aegon mumbled after his third beer. Aemond grunted, turning to face him, looking down at him.

"That's enough. We're leaving." He said, getting up.

He feared that the strangers who had just graced the inn might recognize them or be Lord Greyjoy's men. He didn't want any misunderstandings that he was a drunkard like his brother. Aegon, however, laughed at his words, his eyes clouded and thoughtless.

"You're leaving. And I stay." He purred, raising his hand, indicating to his host that he wanted another beer. Aemond grabbed him by the fabric of his cloak and hauled him up, but Aegon began to struggle and kick.

"Stop it, gods, don't act like an animal!" Aemond hissed, glancing out of the corner of his eye at the three strangers who were now watching them warily, concerned.

He cursed mentally, knowing, that they had already drawn attention to themselves. His older brother did not give up and broke free after a moment.

"I'm staying here. I have the right to rest after eight fucking hours on a dragon back." He sputtered in his drunken voice, and several people turned their heads in their direction.

Aemond squeezed his eye shut and shook his head, furious. He decided that if any assassin wanted to kill them now, it was his brother fault. He decided that he had had enough and approached the counter, furious, asking for a beer himself. He couldn't bear to look at it all soberly.

He heard footsteps and the rotted, wooden floor kneaded beneath them. The girl he had noticed earlier stood now next to him. The host approached her, smiling from under his slightly reddish hair.

"What's for you, sweetie?" He asked in a soft, slightly hoarse tone.

"I'd like a round for this lord at my expense." She said calmly, her voice surprisingly pleasant and graceful.

Aemond felt uneasy and looked at her dispassionately, his right hand close to his belt, where his dagger was strapped. She looked at him. Indeed, her eyes were a light, warm color, brown and gold, piercing, large. Her black eyebrows and eyelashes framed her beautifully pale face. She turned her head, looking curious.

"I don't envy you, comrade. Is this your younger or older brother?" She asked softly, genuine, unforced curiosity in her tone.

Aemond stared at her blankly, wondering why he should answer her at all. However, he felt a kind of discomfort at the thought she had immediately guessed that they were related.

"How can you be sure that he's my brother?" He asked low, dispassionate, almost in frustration.

The girl gave him a pearly laugh, glancing at Aegon. He was talking to one of the innkeepers who was wiping down the table next to him.

"You can only have so much patience with your own siblings." She said amusedly, glancing at him again, her gaze warm, her face expressing surprising cordiality. He thought that he did not trust her and that she must want something from him.

"I won't give you gold if that's what you mean. I don't have much of it with me either." He grunted, taking a sip of the beer that his host had just placed in front of him. The girl laughed again, leaning back against the counter, facing him, looking at him with a satisfied smile.

"I don't want your gold. Here, in the Iron Islands, we don't care much for it. We get what we want ourselves. You can give me something else that I desire." She said, looking at him in such a way that his throat tightened.

He thought that she didn't meant it. Involuntarily, his gaze traveled over her body, to her clearly defined breasts hidden under the jacket, her compressed waist, her round hips. He returned his gaze to her face, which was bright and soft. Her beauty wasn't vulgar or intense, it didn't seem to fit who she was, or how she was dressed. Seeing her up close, he thought they were about the same age.

"What do you want?" He finally asked coldly, pressing his lips together, tired of this exchange. He knew that he should leave, sit next to Aegon, wait until he fell asleep, and just carry him out.

But there was something in her eyes, in her words, that drew him in. The women of King's Landing, even if they were interested in him, would never dare approach him willingly.

They feared him, his eyepatch that covered his missing eye, his scar, his stony face, his deadly gaze, his clenched fists.

The girl tilted her head to the side, her cheeks warm and red from the small amount of alcohol that she had already drunk.

"Come upstairs with me. By the time we're done, your brother will fall asleep here, on the table." She spoke softly, almost silky, her lips slightly parted. He felt his manhood pulsate hard in his trousers at her words. He couldn't take his eye off her lips.

"So your friends can kidnap him or kill him?" He hissed, looking into her eyes again, annoyed that she had tried to fool him in such a primitive way. The girl sighed.

"My father serves Lord Greyjoy as his vassal. I wouldn't dare hurt his daughter's future husband or his brother, any more than my friends. By the way, you have dragons nearby, am I wrong? Isn't your one command enough to burn us all to the ground?" She asked gently. He stared at her with pursed lips.

It was always Aegon who indulged all his pleasures at the expense of others. He thought if he was to meet a woman tomorrow that he would probably never love, who he might not even be able to look at, that maybe once, just once, he might be the one irresponsible.

Go upstairs and fuck her the way she wanted, feel the warmth of a woman that he thought was beautiful.

Seeing his hesitation, she walked slowly towards the stairs, turning to him over her shoulder, smiling at him from the corner of her mouth. Aemond downed what was left in his pitcher in one gulp and followed her without thinking twice.

He saw her enter one of the rooms where a fire was lit. He closed the door behind him and looked at her. She stood with her back to him, staring into the flames, lost in thought.

She took off her leather gloves, her slender fingers deftly beginning to undo the knots of her jacket. The fabric parted slowly, revealing her bare skin, the faint outline of her breasts, now practically uncovered. He quickly looked her up and down and saw that she had no weapons hidden anywhere.

He unbuttoned his coat, shrugging it off, eyeing her warily, circling her with a dark, dangerous gaze, like a predator looking at its prey. She glanced at him, as her jacket slid down on its own, revealing her naked body from the waist up.

He swallowed loudly when he saw her soft, firm breasts. He thought that they would fit the shape of his hands perfectly and felt he was completely hard at the thought.

"Have you done this with many men before?" He asked impassively, unable to take his eye off her chest. She smiled, sighing as if in pity, her gaze warm and full of something that he couldn't describe.

"No. But seeing you, I couldn't resist. Such a handsome man." She said softly, approaching him slowly, there was no trace of shame on her face.

He flinched and stepped back when she wanted to take his hand. She wasn't put off, she took his fingers gently in hers and lifted them, placing them on her breast, letting him touch the warmth and softness of her body. His mouth parted at the sensation, the heat in his lower abdomen unbearable.

"You are mocking me." He said low, but there was an uncertainty in his voice that he chastised himself for in his head.

He knew that nothing could change what his face looked like - the first thing anyone saw. He didn't know how anyone would want to kiss him willingly. He decided that the girl was having fun at his expense, sensing his desperation, the fact that women stayed away from him.

Nevertheless, instead of a malicious smile, he saw surprise on her face. She blinked as she stepped closer to him, placing her free hand on his chest, the other rubbing her breast with his hand. He felt her nipple harden under his touch and pursed his lips.

"I'm not in the habit of mocking people. I don't like wasting my time, my prince." She whispered, her lips slightly parted, her gaze sensual and full of desire.

He sighed and pulled her to him, she kissed him suddenly, softly, noncommittally. With each sticky click of their lips brushing against each other, her lips pressed more and more against his, her body close to him, finally feeling how hard he was. He didn't stop her as her hands slid down to the fabric of his trousers, undoing them.

"I will give you a lot of pleasure if you only want, my prince." She whispered, taking his hard length in her hand.

He moaned low into her mouth, surprised by her directness, how gentle her touch was, how soft her hands were. She squeezed him timidly, rubbing him up and down, never taking her lips off of his, one of his hands gripping her waist tightly, the other still involuntarily massaging her breast.

He suddenly grabbed her hair, tilting her head back, looking at her with parted lips, all hot. He felt that there was no turning back, that it was too late. He thought that he wasn't married yet, that today was the last day that he could do what he wanted.

"Let's see what you can do." He hissed, grabbing her hips suddenly, and she yelped softly, wrapping her arms and legs around him, breathing fast.

He sat down with her on the bed, and she immediately straddled him, unbuttoning her trousers, sliding them off her. He was surprised that she didn't mind that she was completely naked while he was fully clothed.

She rose slightly, positioning herself above him, her hand in his hair, looking at him with her mouth slightly parted. She took his hand, now clenched around her hip, and led it between her hot thighs, straight to her throbbing womanhood, wet with her moisture.

He took a deep breath, feeling a woman like this for the first time. The whores that Aegon had taken him to a few years earlier had just been riding him, and they certainly weren't as wet as she was now.

"Do you feel it, my prince? It can all be yours tonight." She whispered, pressing her forehead against his, encouraging him to slide his finger inside her with a motion of her hand. He did it slowly and sighed shakily, as he felt her rough, fleshy walls pressing against him. He couldn't take his eye off her face.

He grabbed her wrist roughly and firmly, still holding his other hand between her thighs, as her fingers reached for his eyepatch.

"No." He said coldly, looking at her angrily, his jaw clenched, his heart pounding like crazy.

"I want to look at your face while we do this, my prince. Whole." She whispered, guiding his second hand, so that he was rubbing against her clit and the point of greatest pleasure inside her. She rose and fell on his finger, seeking a point of friction, breathing faster and faster.

“I saw men without legs, arms, eyes, ears. The sea spares no one, my prince. Just like fire." She whispered, her free hand brushing over his scars.

He thought that she was lying.

Still, he wanted to believe her. He pursed his lips, torn inside, wanting and not wanting to do it. He wanted to break free, to show himself as he was and hide at the same time. To shut up, to give up, to leave her and go back to Aegon.

When her hand grabbed his eyepatch again and slid it off his head he didn't stop her.

Her expression didn't change, he felt her walls tighten around his finger, a sweet moan escaped her lips.

"Gods, how handsome you are." She whispered helplessly, pressing against his lips, and he moaned loudly in surprise. He didn't believe a word she said, but he wanted it to be true, he wanted her to want him.

He slid his finger out of her quickly and lifted her hips, directing her to his swollen, throbbing manhood that craved her attention so much. They both gasped loudly as her hand guided the tip of his length to her throbbing, hot entrance.

They moaned in surprise as he slid into her suddenly, easily, all the way. She was tight and warm, but at the same time so wet that he began to move inside her at once, imposing a fast, intense pace.

She didn't seem to mind, placing her hands on his shoulders, supporting herself and responding with her hips to his every thrust, panting along with him. His mouth bent down and found her breast, soft and firm, which he grasped, his tongue teasing her nipple with a grunt of delight, tasting salty sweat and her own, sweet scent.

She moaned softly at his caress, pressing his face to her chest, moving on top of him, collapsing against his thighs with a loud slap.

"Oh, gods, my prince - yes, that's right - caress me like that -" She moaned sweetly, delighted, their movements faster and faster, his thrusts brutal and intense, his cock tearing apart her walls, pushing all the way inside her.

He didn't care if it made her uncomfortable or if the pace was too fast. She pressed him so wonderfully, was so incredibly warm that all he wanted was to come inside her. He let her breast out of his mouth with a wet plop, his hand tightening on her hair, tilting her head back.

"Do all Iron Women get wet so fucking easily? Hmm?” He hissed in a hollow voice, panting and moaning in turns with her, his thrusts increasingly sloppy and chaotic.

He could feel the tension in his limbs reaching its zenith, he knew that he wouldn't last much longer. She smiled at his words, her lips slightly parted, her eyes pressed shut in pleasure.

"No, my prince. Only my insides will make you feel this good." She mewled in delight, plopping down on top of him and rubbing against his throbbing cock in such a way, that she felt like she was about to come on him.

Her fingers tightened on his leather jacket as he moaned loudly at her words and sped up, fucking her with all the strength that he had in his hips, both panting restlessly, out of breath, sweat running down their bodies.

“I will leave a little reminder of myself inside you. Would you like that?" He hissed, feeling that a few more thrusts and it would be over. She moaned at his words, gasping for breath, his fingers clenching painfully tight on her hips.

"- yes, oh, gods - I beg you, just cum in me - please, please, please!" She sobbed loudly, and then the sound caught in her throat.

She sobbed helplessly as a strong, brutal orgasm stormed through her body, almost causing her to ache with pleasure. Aemond pressed his forehead against her chest as he felt her tighten on him. He just cum inside her, letting his warm seed spill inside her, panting loudly, shaking with her.

When it was over she slid off him, laying on her side on the sheets, staring at him. He, still breathing uneasily, trembling, quickly tied back his trousers, looking at her out of the corner of his eye.

Her body rose and fell, all hot and quivering, her lips parting sweetly, her eyes staring at him with such warmth and fulfillment that he felt dizzy. He had never experienced such a powerful orgasm in his life.

He didn't know what to say or if he should say anything. He swallowed softly as he saw his semen drip from between her thighs onto the sheets.

He walked over and bent down, taking his cloak from the floor, and left the room, closing the door behind him. He put his clothes back on, pulling the hood over his head, trying to calm down, telling himself that nothing had happened.

That it was just a pleasant adventure and nothing more, that no one will know about it. He pressed his lips together and sighed in relief, as he saw Aegon snoring loudly, his face pressed against the table, beer spilled around him.

He threw his hand over his shoulder, sighing heavily, looking out of the corner of his eye at the companions of the girl that he had just fucked. He felt hot at the thought of her wonderful insides, her soft breasts, her lips, her eyes. He shook his head, dismissing the thought as he and his brother walked outside.

The next day, though not without problems, he and his brother reached the stronghold of Dalton Greyjoy, ruler of the Iron Islands. Aegon looked like he was about to die, but Aemond looked no better.

He hardly slept, and he felt guilty about what he had done. He wondered what his mother would say if she found out. He decided that his Seven Gods must have despised him for what he had done.

He was also afraid to see his future wife.

He was afraid of the disappointment that was to come.

Dalton Greyjoy received them with reserve. He used the proper titles for them, but Aemond felt that he didn't want to see them at all, and he treated the whole thing as purely political himself.

"My daughter is a true Iron Woman, not some delicate flowers you have in your King's Landing, my prince. I give you my greatest gem." He said as if in pain, lowering his head, his wrinkled, stern face looking tired and impatient. Aemond pursed his lips, thinking that he would gladly let him keep his daughter if it were up to him.

After a while the gates opened. Aemond pursed his lips and froze, feeling his throat tighten painfully at the sight of his future wife.

His mistress from the night before approached Dalton Greyjoy cheerfully, smiling broadly. She was dressed in a beautiful, simple, black, suede dress with long sleeves, reaching down to the floor, her dark hair was loose. Even though she wasn't wearing any jewelry, she looked dignified.

"Father." She spoke softly, then turned and bowed before him.

"My prince."

_____

I'll be absent tomorrow, so tomorrow's chapter I'm posting today. Be sure to read my new oneshot I posted this morning, I'm very proud of it. Enjoy! 💖

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @astral-blossoms @randomdragonfires @amirawritespoorly @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes @darylandbethfanforever9 @fudge13 @snh96 @diosademuerte @rwdkarla

#aemond fic #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #aemond x oc #aemond x fem!reader #hotd aemond #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell fanfic #aemond the kinslayer #aemond x original female character #aemond x original character #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen x you #dark aemond angst #dark aemond smut #dark aemond targaryen #dark aemond #dark aemond x reader #ewan mitchell smut #aemond smut #hotd smut #ewan mitchell x reader #aemond fanfic #aemond fandom #hotd x reader #hotd x orignal character #hotd x oc #hotd fanfiction #hotd fanfic

[notyour-valentine]

Life is a Cabaret ~ Tommy Shelby x Reader (Angst)

[Masterlist] [Taglist]

Summary: Tommy has an iron-clad arrangement with a performer, one of his own making

Note: Written for @cillmequick and her 6 months anniversary celebration I hope you enjoy!

All my writing is produced by an adult and created with an adult audience in mind (18/21+). You are responsible for your own media consumption. I do not consent to my work being translated, copied or posted elsewhere on this platform or any other.

Wordcount: 1549 words

It was a curious mix of people he watched squeeze themselves into the ranks time and time again, night after night. 

Some were dressed to the nines, with evening pearls and dinner jackets, giddy at the thought of seeing the show they had heard or read so much about. 

Undoubtedly some had even come all the distance word of this show had travelled. He heard Americans, and French people, Italians, even those Romanians he could only pick out because of the people he had encountered in his travelling youth. 

There were those that were here for the show, those who had read about it in the papers or heard about it from their friends and family, those that chose to add this to their list of London experiences, and those that came only for this, for her. 

But no matter from where they had come, they came. 

He recognised a few of her regulars, some old men with their purses as thick as their necks, leering and lusting, others younger, more naive, those boys too young to see war or imagine love. 

One of them thought himself an artist, and brought his pencil and sketches to each evening. Tommy couldn’t help scoffing at the folly of this boy. 

Since by now he had seen the show a hundred times, and knew every key, every movement, and every costume change, he sometimes let his eyes drift, not because he was bored or uninterested no.

Tearing his gaze away gave him the proof he needed that he was still his own master, that he was still the one in control of his body if not his mind. 

And he had to be in control. Of this and of everything. 

If he lost it for but a moment, everything he had built for himself and his family would come crashing down like a house of cards. 

And he couldn’t allow that, even if some times, some nights, all Tommy wanted was to let go. 

As always, he left before the finale, not wanting to listen to the cheers and cries, to watch her bow and blow kisses towards the crowd as they threw flowers and compliments at her. 

By now he knew the way to her dressing room with ease. 

It was another world compared to the perfectly set stage, with every pin, every sparkly stone, every hair in place. 

Here, behind the curtain, everything was different. Her robe was draped over the chair close to the fireplace for warmth, her slippers were scattered instead of neatly placed together. The blanket on her chaise longue resembled more a mountain scape than the calming plains of the sea and the pillow was anything but fluffed. 

A book was laying atop, turned upside down with some pages caught in the swift motion. 

Poetry, Tommy realised as he lifted it up, smoothing the creases with his thumb before picking up a peacock feather he found laying on the floor next to a discarded fan and placing it between the pages as marker. 

He found her cigarette lighter on the mayhem that was her dressing table. 

That was a whole other realm of chaos. 

Her powederbox was unscrewed, with the brush laying next to it, spilling its lingering content on a once white glove. 

The darkened pencil she applied on her lashes had found his place next to the still open bright red lipstick. 

There was a pair of earrings there, hiding between the make up, and a comb, a few hairs still in it, not her hair, but one of the wigs she wore on stage. 

As he fumbled for her cigarette lighter, he heard a crunch under his foot and when he looked down he saw the sorry ending of one of the many fake pearls she used to adorn her costumes. 

While it made a mark on the ground, he was sure it wouldn’t be missed. 

Tommy slipped out of his suit jacket and placed it over her robe, before setting down and inhaling deeply. 

Someone had sent her roses. Someone always sent her roses. 

They were as red as her lipstick, with thick petals and healthy stems. He knew quality when he saw it and it was obvious to him that they hadn’ t spared expenses on that. 

His attempts to find a card were futile, and left a bitter taste in his mouth that not even his cigarette could quench. What a shame, he’d have loved to know. 

Instead, he was left to wonder as the sound of applause reached him even here, and like any bothersome noise Tommy had ever been forced to here, it didn’t seem to end. 

The impatience made his skin itch as his chest tightened. Ever a man of impatience, this was the worst case of waiting he had to suffer. 

Finally, after an eternity in purgatory, he could hear movement in the adjourned room and before long the door opened.

She had rid herself of the gigantic construction she wore on her back for the finale, leaving her in the pearl covered corset and the silk that caressed her bare legs. 

There was some powder she applied all over that made her skin shine. 

“You.”, she said as greeting, neither surprised nor shocked to see him there. 

“Me.”, Tommy answered. 

She hummed and closed the door behind her. 

“Well if you’re here you can make yourself useful.”, she said, sitting down in front of him, showing her back. 

It was only fair, Tommy thought, to let her wait too before he began to undo the laces that held her costume in place. 

The proximity allowed him to smell the scent of her perfume. It wasn’t the expensive one from Paris he had bought her a while back but rather the one she had always worn. 

Instead, he asked after the flowers. 

“An admirer?”, he wanted to know as he had loosened the laces enough for her to do the rest herself. 

“Maybe. Do you care?”

She got up and slipped out of the costume, standing in front of him in a whole lot of little more than nothing as she placed it neatly on a hanger before reaching for her robe. 

The truth was, Tommy had no right to care. With the forming of this agreement he had denied any possible ground to care. And now, when he had her like this, beyond the stage, beyond the performance, he wondered if he hadn’t made a horrible mistake. 

She only ever turned to him once to make him light her cigarette, during her whole time of undressing. 

Pin by pin her cascade of hair fell down each strand uncurling itself just slightly to frame her face and caress her neck and back. 

This was a side of her the audience didn’t get to see, or at least he hoped he wouldn’t. 

Per their agreement, they weren’t exclusive, although Tommy hadn’t looked at any woman twice since. The fact that she may not do the same sickened him, but he had no leg to stand on and so he didn’t bring it up for fear she could break it off. 

Bit by bit the performer disappeared, revealing the person. Or at least the closest thing to that Tommy would ever see. 

But despite the fading makeup and the undone hair, she was even more enchanting to him now than she was on stage. This was the version of her he longed for when he was back in his office, or in his bed  back in Birmingham, this version, the scent of her perfume, the feeling of her warmth and the memory of her kisses. They lingered longer than smoke, than anything. Somehow they had burned themselves into his memory, cursing him to replay it over and over as if it was the last gramophone disk on this earth. 

Her proximity came with the cost of her distance, her touch at the price of others feeling it too, her presence with the toll of having others enjoying and admiring her as much as he did. 

This was a curse of his own making, a punishment he had sentenced himself too and more than once Tommy wished he could have voiced the turmoil in his heart and mind, the storm that only ceased in her presence, but he couldn’t dare. 

Instead, he put out his cigarette and pushed himself into a stand. 

His arms wrapped themselves around her middle as he drew her close, nuzzling the crook of her neck. She let him, smirking to the reflection of them both. 

Sometimes he wondered how things would be if they could be different, if he hadn’t at first considered her nothing but a shiny trophy, a passtime, an artist he could book to add to his performance of an a settled businessman, a member of the Upper Classes, adding shine, intrigue and prestige to him. 

But instead, he had forged this arrangement he now found himself chained by. 

Sometimes he wondered if  he was any different than the men who clapped oand cheered for her, who bought her roses and drew her likeness. And sometimes, when he was all alone at night, he missed her warmth, her touch, her everything - and he feared he had made himself just as replaceable. 

~

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed and as always I'd love to hear your thoughts!

Taglist

Overall

@lilyrachelcassidy @jyessaminereads @chlorrox @watercolorskyy @books-livre @quarterpastmidnight  @lilyevanswhore  @polishcrazyone  @zablife  @just-a-harmless-patato  @stevie75 @flyingjosephine-blog @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @babayaga67 @butterfly-skinnylegend @shelbydelrey @mrkdvidal1989 @raincoffeeandfandoms @midnightmagpiemama @adaydreamaway08 @trixie23

Tommy

@knowledgefulbutterfly @babayaga67 @signorellisantichrist @lespendy @geeksareunique @look-at-the-soul @lothbrokcore @rangerelik @elenavampire21 @evanore @dandelionprints

#tommy shelby #thomas shelby #peaky blinders #tommy shelby imagine #thomas shelby imagine #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby / reader #thomas shelby / reader #tommy shelby & reader #thomas shelby & reader #tommy shelby fluff #thomas shelby fluff #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fluff #tommy shelby angst #thomas shelby angst #peaky blinders angst #life is a cabaret #alex's houseparty

[variousxreader]

Karma

Sick!Buggy x GN Reader

OPLA- Semi NSFW - Emetophilia - Hurt Comfort, whump (?) taking care of Sick Buggy

Length: Roughly 1,600 words according to my app.

Oops, i wrote a lot. I went more toward sudden onset nausea rather than a food poisoning/ flu type deal, i hope thats okay! I literally felt my mouth water upon getting this request. Delicious! Chefs Kiss! My Emeto kink is related to the care of the sickie, so if you want something more NSFW and really fucking filthy and gross just come back for more and tell me exactly what you want baby birds!

Again i write in Mobile so i have to do my own semi formatting via paragraph breaks / indenting so if it looks awkward thats why

~

Clown sitting duty was your favorite duty aboard The Going Merry. You had tagged along with the Trio in Shells town and had been with them since. When you first met Buggy in Orange Town with the others you were captivated by the ringmaster captain. He was gorgeous for one, Funny and charismatic; and a hell of a lot of fun to flirt with and fluster.

So when Buggy had returned to your company, in a soggy wet bag looking like the drowned puppy he was being treated as; you readily volunteered your baby sitting services. The rest of the crew had no objection. Unless you two started flirting and dirty talking each other in earshot, then they all glared and shooed you and the Clown head away. Everything had been going quite well, Buggy behaved with you, as much as the callous man could "behave" that is. He gave directions and told you about his time at sea. You'd built quite a bond with him over the days, caring for him and feeding and watering him.

Buggy was quite smitten with you, and usually in a great mood as long as he woke up in your arms in the same hammock, and fed by your caring hand. Hell he'd even let you wash and brush his hair after several attempts at biting off your fingers, even re-do his make up from where the bag incident had sullied it. So when the jester suddenly began to withdraw into himself, you grew worried. He spoke curtly and was short with you, seemingly out of the blue. You had not a damn clue what you'd done to scorn him.

"Buggy, whats wrong you're looking a little green around the gills." You hummed, cupping his stubbled cheek with a cool hand. He leaned into your touch, as much as he could that is.

"Just.. not feeling peachy Sweets, nothing for you to worry that pretty little head of yours about." Buggy spoke metered, with a focus on a singular spot on the wall.

"I'm gonna worry about you anyway Bugs, i've grown to like you quite a bit." You tucked a loose strand of hair back behind his ear.

"Ah your impeccable taste aside it's just those shit head fish men fucking with my body" He grit his teeth, huffing a breath. "I'm sure they'll get bored soon enough and leave it be... for a while." Suddenly he tenses and slams his eyes shut, bracing for what you had no clue. So you scooped him up gently and set him in your lap, undoing his bandana and combing your fingers through his sea blue locks.

"Mm..." he mutters, relaxing a fraction. "I think they're spinning my body on a carnival ride or game" Buggy's voice waived a tad, eyes still screwed shut.

"Like the knife throwing shit you had Zoro tied on?" You mused, rubbing his temples.

"Ugh Karma, a vindictive cunt isn't she?" Buggy Hissed. "Just put me on the shelf or something and let me be!"

"I'm not gonna leave you alone when you're suffering Bugs." You could tell his nausea was mounting, based on the increased swallowing you could feel from his throat.

"No seriously! Put me down j-just fuckin lean me over a bucket or ledge." He squirmed as much as he could as a stump, snapping his cute teeth at you.

"Shhh I'm gonna take care of you, whether you like it or not Mr." You did set him on the dresser of your room for a moment whilst going to fetch some water and a bucket, as well as a clean rag. Returning the angered head to your lap once you were done. Buggy, ever vicious whilst vulnerable growled and tried to protest more, but visibly calmed when you dabbed the damp cloth over his sweaty forehead and cheeks, in an attempt to cool him and soothe him.

"S'not.....gonna be pretty." Buggy was paler than you'd ever could imagine, he looked more akin to a ghost than clown. "Y-you really don't need t' see.. or hear this." He warns with less venom; his ire dying out as he became more and more miserable. He was sweating even more now, occasional belches leaving his mouth; signaling his inevitable demise at the hands of nausea.

"Buggy you could choke, you've no way to manage this safely on your own. I know it's embarrassing but it's okay, i'm here. I've got you." You cooed soothingly, rubbing the base of his skull as he didn't have a back currently. You moved to stand, holding him gently at an angle over the bucket so he indeed would not choke on his own vomit.

Buggy wanted to cry, for many reasons at the moment, but most of all your kindness toward him. You were so caring and gentle. Always eager to please him and take care of him. He never had anyone offer to take care of him when he was sick... not since Shanks. Ugh thats the last thing he wanted to think about now. His shitty former best friend turned unambitious coward. Pathetic. He regretted eating so much of the blonde's cooking last night. Stupid fucking cook and his stupid fucking food. Where ever the hell his stomach was it was lurching violently. Its contents sloshing around like the turbulent waters of The Grand Line. He was drooling like a fucking idiot, stupid fucking everything. His mind was cussing everything and anything while he spat into the bucket you'd provided. Your gentle voice and fingers on his skin a cool balm to the storm inside him. God fuck he didn't want you to see him weak and pitiful and sick.

He gagged. Loudly, his back had it been attached to him would have been arched taught and painfully. You cooed at him again spoke reassuring words as he retched. Spittle dripped from his lips as he screwed his eyes shut again, gagging again swiftly, roughly. He hacked and spit and swallowed air down greedily when he could. Head trembling already from the unpleasant feeling and exertion. "Nfgh Fuck me." Buggy moaned, before out of no where the dam burst and acrid vomit spewed from his lips, messily into the bucket. He coughed and hacked, before vomiting again, sounding like he was dying.

"Thats it baby," you cooed. "Let it all out, it's alright, i've got you." You held the poor man, rubbed the base of his skull in little circles and did your best to comfort him. By the third eruption of puke from his lips, he was gasping for air as a reprieve finally came, tears and snot and vomit staining his pretty, pretty face.

"S'okay Buggy, you're okay." You wiped his face with the damp rag and cleaned him up. Kissing the top of his head on his bandana.

He heaved ragged breaths eyes shut tight. Throat stinging from the acidity. Fucking of course he had drank with you last night. Goddamn rum, burns even worse coming up. God you were being so good to him, why the fuck was he kinda turned on? His cock should be the farthest thing from his addled mind right now; but no one had ever tended to him so lovingly before. Buggy thought he might just start weeping openly; how the fuck had he earned your kindness?! He'd tortured your crew and threatened all kinds of horrors upon them, and yet you were humming to him, kissing his temples and wiping his own fluids off his face. He's never been so confusedly horny and touched in all his life.

You gave him a sip of water once it seemed like he had recovered. He swished it around his mouth before spitting it into the desecrated bucket. Then drank in earnest from the glass you held to his lips; once he had his fill he pulled away panting yet again.

"Just rest your throat honey." You called to him, cradling him in your arms as if he were a precious babe. Buggy nodded weakly, sniffling and hiding his face in your clothes. He wasn't ready to talk. Not after that display of nasty you had to bear witness to; also he couldn't find the words to express his gratitude. Hell he had no idea what to say when someone as amazing as you dotes and mother hens a fuck up like him.

After some time had passed, you tucked him into a bundle of blankets in your hammock, pressing a kiss to his forehead. He flushed as red as his pretty nose and buried his face to hide it. A soft giggle told him he'd failed at that. Buggy heard you move to clean up the mess and he was grateful. Fuck talk about how to ruin shit with your crush in moments. He didn't have long to sulk though; as you'd returned picked him up and got into the hammock, resting him on your chest. You proceeded to undo his bandana and hair, letting his tresses fall; your nails were suddenly gently scratching at his scalp and he moaned lightly at the sensation.

"The fuck did I ever do to deserve you..?" Buggy muttered more to himself than anything; but you answered nonetheless.

"Dunno, but I'm glad you did it." You smiled petting him gently.

Buggy blushed again, and huffed indignantly. "Ya weren't supposed to hear that sweets."

"But I did. Now get some rest Bugs. You're safe with me."

There was a drawn out pause before he responded; softly, almost in reverence "I know."

~fin~

#one piece x reader #18+ #buggy x reader #buggy the clown #buggy the clown x reader #reader insert #emeto #emetophilia #emeto tw #emeto kink #sick buggy #hurt/comfort

[kittyofalltrades]

For the MERRY FICMAS! Could I request, Nathan Bateman + SMUT + secret santa? (Only if you want to/have time! ♥️)

Kyoko's Secret Santa

Accidental secret Santa with Nathan. (Yes I know Kyoko doesn't have a voice in the movie but we needed it this one time.)

Word: 1954

Beta: @welcometostayingawake (THANK YOU!!!!!!!!!!)

Warnings: Dildo, Nathan's ass, Oral (f rec), Pet name (honey), if i missed something let me know

“You’re always so tense. When was the last time you got laid? Maybe some dick would make you less high strung,” Nathan taunted with a smirk.

“I don’t know when was the last time you fucked a woman? A real woman? Bet you couldn’t even last long enough to satisfy anybody but your fembots,” you countered with a dark smile.

“I can show you better than I can tell you, honey,” he challenged closing the distance between you two. When his breath was a hair breath away he stopped, waiting for your next move.

“I’ve got toys that would fuck me better than you,” you countered.

“Liar. You didn’t pack any, otherwise you wouldn’t be so stressed out. I can help.”

“Go relieve some stress with your hand, Bateman.”

Christmas morning found you in an oversized festive sweater, sitting next to the tree set up in the living room with Nathan. The stack of presents was bigger than it was when you’d snuck his gift under the tree. You almost felt bad about the measly gift you’d gotten him while you eyed the stack. He was one of the richest men in the world, You hadn’t needed to get him anything at all. You dug out your gift to hand him, wrapped in garish orange wrapping paper, bright amongst the other tastefully wrapped gifts. 

Nathan took the parcel with a grimace at making you reach to take it back. “If you don’t want it, give it back.”

Nathan clutched the small parcel to his chest for a second in faux shock before tearing into the paper. He revealed an unmarked black metal tin, giving  it a quick shake before opening it. Inside was a complete beard care kit: beard balm, shampoo, conditioner, several beard combs in various sizes, a brush and scissors. He gave you a raised eyebrow before opening the beard balm and giving it a quick sniff. “Vanilla? Really, honey?”

“I still have the receipt for that, I can have Kyoko ship it back,” you threatened, highly unamused at his reaction.

“It’s thoughtful. I, however, don’t know which of these is yours or how you got enough money to pay for more things.”

“What do you think they pay me, Bateman? I could barely afford that,” you grumbled while he leaned forward to rummage under the tree. You watched his ass as the material of his sweat pants tightened while he manipulated the gifts. God, he had the perfect ass.

“For somebody that can’t afford a lot, there sure are a lot of boxes from you.”

You snatched a box from him, sure enough it was addressed to him from you. You tossed the box back at him and started to rip into the pile of boxes still under the tree. You began by separating everything that was addressed to you with a frown. 

“How much did you buy?” you quested while you waved a box threateningly at him.

“Not all of that, that's for damn sure,” Nathan countered while he started digging into the boxes you’d thrown in his direction. “Open them.”

WIthout questioning him further, you started ripping off wrapping paper. After opening a few of them, you looked at your new collection of lingerie and heels that matched every piece. 

Nathan peeked into one of the boxes sitting by your side and pulled out a lacy top and heels that matched with a smirk. “Planning a fashion show, honey?” 

You snatched the items away and shoved them back into the box they came from with a grimace, he’d bought all of this for you? What did he expect from it? You opened the last box and nestled into the velvet lining was–

“A dildo, Bateman, really? The lingerie and heels were bad enough but a dildo?” you growled brandishing the box containing the dildo at him. 

“I didn’t order half of what is sitting in front of you,” Nathan protested. “Let me see it?”

You chucked the box at him and retreated to the sofa, leaving the mountain of gifts that surrounded you. You expected a lot of things but a dildo was nowhere near the list, even if the thought of it buried inside you sent pleasure down your spine. Nathan’s chuckle had you giving him a sharp look. You didn’t know what you expected but it wasn’t for him to laugh. 

“This is mine. Well, a replica of my cock,” he said while he turned it over in his fingers. “I wonder how you could have gotten this.”

“A replica of your cock?” you asked dumbly. Your mind went blank as ideas of how to make use of the formerly offensive item flashed through your thoughts. Nathan grinned as he watched your eyes glaze over with desire, and he wondered again when the last time you’d gotten laid was. 

“You gonna let me use it on you, honey?” he asked softly, making your eyes snap to his face and away from the box in his hand. 

He crawled through the remaining paper stopping near enough to touch you. He dragged kisses up your legs, the drag of his beard a tantalizing hint at what it could do in other places. Acting on instincts alone, you spread your legs giving him access, wanting more of his bearded kisses on your body. 

Nathan chuckled at the action while he settled between your thighs. He splayed his fingers across your thighs, massaging your flesh and pulling small moans from you. He knew what you needed, his cock, but for now he’d settle for giving you a taste of what he had to offer. He worked his hands higher, massaging your thighs as he went, hiking your sweater to your hips and expecting shorts but finding none. 

He gave you a wicked grin. “Did you come to open Christmas presents in just your panties? How naughty. What were you expecting?”

“Just what you’re gonna give me,” you whispered back breathlessly as his fingers trailed along your panty covered core. 

Nathan grinned as he slipped your panties off, quickly tucking them into his pocket for later. He had a few ideas of what he could use them for but right now he wanted to focus on making you feel less tense. 

You didn’t get a warning before he pulled your hips to the edge of the sofa and dove into your slick folds. His tongue worked at your clit, dragging low wanton moans deep from your chest while you struggled for something to hold on to. Dipping his tongue low, he roamed across your slit before returning to your clit with a harsh suck.

“Ffffffuck,” you moaned loudly. 

“Wait ‘til you take my cock, honey. Gonna stretch your pretty, little cunt perfectly,” Nathan vowed, lips against your clit. He leaned away from you reaching for the dildo still nestled in the velvet casing. 

He pulled the toy out of the box and held it up for you to see before running the tip along your slick folds. The tip caught against your clit, pulling another moan from your lips and making you clench around nothing. You canted your hips upward chasing the feeling.

“My poor, needy girl. Tell me what you want, honey,” Nathan cooed as he worked the dildo slowly into your sopping pussy.

You whined softly at the stretch and fullness of the silicone length in you. It filled you better than your fingers ever could, or even some of the cocks that you’d taken. Your fists tightened on the sofa again when he brought his lips to your inner thigh, the scratch of his beard and the press of his lips overloading your senses as he pushed further into you.

“Tell me, honey, or I’ll stop,” Nathan said before giving your thigh a small nip, pulling you back to reality from the haze of lust you were falling into.

“More…please,” you pleaded with heavy lidded eyes. 

If he stopped fucking you, you were convinced you would shatter into a million pieces. When he started at a faster pace, a debauched whine fell past your lips. You massaged your breast while he fucked you with the dildo, tugging at your nipples through the fabric. The harsh brush of wool over your nipples added another layer of pleasure, making your skin burn with need.

Nathan watched you come apart around the dildo with a smirk; he knew you needed his cock and here you were, taking it. Rolling your hips toward it, seeking your release while his name fell from your lips. God, he wanted to fuck you so badly right here on his couch until you were dripping with his cum. Nathan leaned forward and blew a hot breath against your clit making you shiver and your eyes fly open to look at him.

You watched through half lidded eyes as he attached his lips to your clit again, your hands flew to the back of Nathan’s head to hold him in place while you rolled your hips against his face.

“‘M gonna cum,” you slurred.

Nathan growled at the words, the vibrations it sent through your clit had you cumming in a gush of liquid over Nathan’s face, wetting his beard. He pulled the dildo from you, cleaning you with his tongue while your legs trembled around his head. You whimpered when he kept licking at your cunt, pushing you almost to over stimulation but you didn’t stop him. He was so good with his tongue you wanted everything he would give you. Once he deemed you clean enough, he leaned away from you to give you a smile while his beard glistened with your slick.      

You leaned back against the sofa while your breathing settled while Nathan trailed soft kisses to your knees. If that’s what he could do with a dildo and his tongue, you couldn’t even begin to think of what he could do with his cock. The thoughts sent a small shiver through you that had Nathan looking up to meet your eyes with a devilish smile. 

“I see the items I purchased were put to good use,” Kyoko said from behind you, making you whip around to look at her.

“You purchased?” Nathan asked from the floor. 

“I lacked the supplies here to recreate a replica of your penis, so I sent it to an outside lab to be made to my exact specifications,” Kyoko confirmed. “The lingerie, shoes and erection sustainment pills came from me as well, based on conversations you’ve had.”

“Why?” you asked in shock. It did make you feel a little better to know that Nathan hadn’t purchased you a mountain of shoes and lingerie. But coming from Kyoko? It was even more confusing.

“I have heard of the secret Santa tradition and thought I might fill the role.”

“Why a replica of Nathan’s penis though? How did you even get that?” you questioned.

“He has detailed full body scans stored on my hard drive. I deduced correctly that you needed to engage in intercourse due to physical attraction cues. Your pupil dilation, increase in body temperature, and rise in heart rate during your encounters, all lead to signs of arousal.”

“I told you you needed to get laid,” Nathan took you with a cheeky smile. 

“Shut up, Bateman.”

“Your heart rate is rising as we speak,” “Your heart rate is rising as we speak,” Kyoko intoned before leaving as silently as she came.  She was too observant for her own good. You gave Nathan a small smile. Observant and correct.

“Oh, something is rising alright,” Nathan stated with a smirk.

God, you hated him, but in the spirit of Christmas you’d be generous and maybe let him fuck you. 

#nathan bateman #ex machina #nathan bateman x reader #nathan bateman smut #ex machina smut #ficmas

[hanayori89]

✨🐺 Sparks Between Fang Marks: Bite from the Beast 3✨🐺

"Are you sure about this?"

Link stood; a majestic vision enrobed in his signature hero's tunic. You grabbed a wooden comb from his bureau and ran it through his unruly bangs.

"What's wrong with my normal clothes? I'm not going into battle."

You stopped combing, rolling your eyes. "For a hero, you sure do whine a lot. Haven't you ever heard love is a battlefield?"

"I just think falling in love shouldn't involve this much effort."

"Effort?" You countered. "Link, you're going on a measly date."

With a surrendering sigh, he stood still as you brushed his tunic, making sure to iron out any wrinkles in its cotton with your fingertips. You ignored the feel of brawn beneath his clothes as you continued to smooth his collar down. The past few weeks, you and 'wolf boy' have grown quite close... as friends.

Sure, there were lingering looks laced with sharp-witted chatter that seemed to hang between you both. The more you seemed to torture Link, the bolder he became. The chemistry between you both had become combustible.

At least on your end.

But your job was to groom him and give him away to the 'one' who would inflame his heart with love and set him free of his curse.

But you found it becoming harder and harder to ignore the little whisper in the back of your mind. This minute, taunting voice seemed to ask you, why couldn't you be the one?

"Y/N?" You looked up at Link to see him observing you in concern. "You, okay? You look like you floated into the mirror of Twilight, never to be seen again."

You give his collar a final smooth down before playfully swatting him away. "Come on, you don't want to be late for a date; it's a poor look."

You both made your way over to Link's horse, Epona. "We must head to Castle Town."

Link hopped onto Epona. The image of him clad in his green tunic atop his horse was sure to make any person's pulse race. Who didn't love a dashing knight?

"Y/N? Are you coming up?"

You looked at him, puzzled. "Huh? You mean ride with you? You don't have a horse for me?"

"What's the point? We can both fit on Epona." He jumped off of Epona and stood before you, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. "You're awfully weird today. I'm the one getting tortured with blind dates." He grabbed your waist and began to lift you off of the ground.

"What are you-"

"You just told me we can't be late." Link hoisted you upward, helping you wrap your legs onto Epona and get your feet securely into the stirrups of her saddle. He jumped up behind you. "See, that wasn't so bad, was it?" His whisper sent a chill down your spine.

Another trickle of his breath hits your ear. "Let's go; I don't want to be out with you when the moon rises."

"I agree; I would like to not be attacked by 'wolf' you again."

A cocky laugh erupted from his throat. "Who said anything about the wolf?"

"Link!"

✨✨✨✨✨🐺✨✨✨✨✨

You both made your way to Castle Town, where the interview for Link's heart was waiting to commence.

You walked into Telma's tavern; the dim lights and blithe atmosphere would be perfect for Link's first date. You made your way to the bar and hid your face behind an oversized menu. You surreptitiously watched as he sat alone at a table.

Wishing you were the one sitting with him.

He looked over at you, and you gave him a supportive thumbs up. You could see the tension melt from his shoulders at the sight of you. He gave you a resolute nod.

A buxom figure strolled toward his table. Her wide hips sashayed purposefully, reminding all of the men in the bar of her spell-binding femininity. A white cat jumped onto Link's lap, startling him.

"Louise! What did I say?"

Telma pulled a chair out, sitting down in front of Link.

"Hey Telma."

"Hey there, sugar. Louise figured she would be your emotional support cat." Link gazed down at the long-haired feline with fur colored like a marshmallow. He massaged her temples, causing her to vibrate with approval.

"Oh, you know I'm waiting for a date?"

Telma bent toward Link, a tidal wave of her cleavage spilling onto the table. He looked away.

"It's a shame you and Ilia didn't work out, but it's not a shame for me..." Her hand snuck beneath the table and landed on his knee, causing him to jolt upright.

"T-Telma, what are you-"

She winked at him. "You need a woman, Link. That's your problem. A man with a body like yours should be praised by the warm, curvaceous body of a woman like me." Her fingers danced up his leg, rattling him.

"Telma, don't tell me you're..."

"Your date? I'm glad you figured it out, honey.

Link shot you a glowering stare, and you shrugged your shoulders. You ignored Telma's hands all over him. You ordered a shot from the bar to bury your jealousy.

"W-what about Renado?" Link asked.

Telma took her hand off of his leg and slammed the table. Louise slowly opened and closed her eyes, oblivious to anything but the attention his fingers were feeding her. "I'm done chasing him! I don't chase men; they chase me!"

Link sighed. "Telma, I don't know what Y/N told you, but I'm looking for love."

"Sure, honey, I can give you lovin' "

"No!" Link put his hand on his forehead and rubbed it in vexation. "I mean, love. Not sex."

"Well, if you change your mind, you're in my bar after all." She got up, her black leather cloak swinging behind her. Louise looked up at him and hissed. She hopped off of his lap and followed behind her scorned mother.

Link looked your way, slowly beckoning you with a few flicks of his finger. You quickly hid your face, ignoring him.

You had a feeling Telma would be too forward for someone like Link, who needed to think he was in control. Link liked to be the aggressor. At least he seemed that way with you.

That's why you enlisted a few other choices.

✨✨✨✨✨🐺✨✨✨✨✨

You buried your face in the menu once again when you saw another contender approach Link's table.

"Agitha?"

"Hi Link!" She sat on the empty chair across from him.

"What are you doing here? The bar is no place for children."

Her legs dangled off of the chair. She stood up so she could stamp her foot and demonstrate her displeasure. "Link, I am 19 now!"

"Oh, has it been that long?" Link gave her an amicable smile. "You have grown into a fine young lady and princess."

"Well, duh, that's why I'm here."

"Oh no," Link swore beneath his breath.

"Every princess needs a prince, and well, you always helped collect bugs for me." Agitha placed a box on the table. Link didn't need to ask to know what was inside of it.

Agitha giggled, a sound reminiscent of when she was the ten-year-old he first encountered. Her blonde pigtails bobbed as she whispered, "Here is the deal; in this box are a bunch of cockroaches. You help me play a prank on Telma, and I'll agree to date you."

Link fell backward, scrambling to get away from the box of eager roaches on the table. You couldn't help but laugh at the ridiculous look on his face. Link caught sight of you laughing and growled.

You had to say that growling suited him, even as a human.

"Agitha," Link stood and brushed off his clothing. "I appreciate your offer, but I'm afraid I just need someone a little older."

"HMPH! With that attitude, you'll always be single!" She grabbed her box, storming off, but not before thrusting it in Link's direction and threatening to take the lid off, giving him a jump scare.

You once again pretended to look at the menu until you felt hands rip it from your grasp. "Is this your idea of a joke?" Link got in your face and hissed.

"Telma's boobs and Agitha's bugs? That's what you think is going to make me fall in love?"

"What's not to love about Telma's boobs?"

"Y/N!"

"Oh, alright. Such a crabby wolf boy! Listen Link," you set your hands on his shoulders, trying to calm him down. "You have to understand love comes in all sorts of packages and sometimes in someone you least expect."

The crowded bar offered little distraction from how close he was looming to your lips. You couldn't help yourself, thanks to the magic of the shots you indulged in, you awarded yourself with a quick glance at his. You couldn't help but think about how lucky the winning candidate would be to taste them. "There's a few more applicants. Please, just trust me, okay?"

Link groaned. "Oh, fine! But if none of them work, then I expect you to have a backup plan."

You opened your lips, snapping them shut. You wanted to tell him you had a backup plan.

And actually, the backup plan had been your first plan all along.

You.

Edited:11/10/23

#legend of zelda #link #loz #fanfiction #link x reader #romance #wattpad #the legend of zelda #fanfic #fanfic on tumblr #loz twilight princess #twilight princess #telma louise #oneshot #not really

[wrestlezaynia]

10. You don't know what you do to me

Subtle suggestive smut prompts.

"Embrassé sous la Pluie."

Warning: Strong sexual content. Do not read if you’re under 18.

"Psst." A voice calls to Sami from the shadows, beckoning him over. He draws near, recognizing who it is straight away. "Kev?" He asks.

"I got suspended for punching Waller and Theory in the face." Kevin explains, emerging from his hiding place when the coast is clear. "I didn't have my soulmate by my side to keep me in check." He adds with a flirtatious smile. "What are you doing later, want to catch up?"

A blush invades Sami's cheeks as red as his hair, which Kevin is now running his fingers through, making it difficult to concentrate. "I'd love to." He replies, having been deprived of his touch for far too long.

When Kevin arrives to pick up Sami, the sun is beginning to set. The pair decide to take a moonlit stroll down the beach, hand in hand, while Kevin listens to Sami ramble. His prattling comes to an abrupt halt, however, when the loud crack of thunder erupts overhead. The forecast didn't call for rain, the sky had been clear up until that point as the two men lock eyes, still holding hands.

A gust of wind blows through Sami's flowing crimson locks, causing Kevin's heart to skip a beat. He always teased Sami about getting a haircut, but the fact of the matter is he's secretly fond of his long tresses. He loves combing his fingers through it, among other things.

What started off as a light drizzle transforms into heavy rainfall as Kevin gives Sami's hand a firm tug, pulling him into his arms. Their eyes connecting briefly before Kevin captures his lips in a tender kiss.

A cold shiver runs down Sami's spine at the sudden drop in temperature, but Kevin's embrace provides a source of warmth and comfort as he kisses back, cradling Kevin's face gently in his hands.

The kiss eventually breaks, leaving them gasping for air. Kevin can feel Sami shaking, prompting him to seek shelter as they make a dash back to the car, giggling as they run. The laughter ceases, however, as soon as they reach the vehicle. After opening the door, their eyes meet once more as Kevin leans in close, brushing his lips against Sami's with fervor as they climb into the backseat. Their tongues eagerly exploring each other's mouths after months of being apart.

Their lips part momentarily while Kevin removes he and Sami's wet shirts, hanging the respective garments over the front and passenger seats in order to dry before focusing his attention back on Sami. Kissing him soft and deep, their bare chests pressed flush together.

Sami is on cloud nine that is, until, his breathing becomes strained. Kevin had literally taken his breath away as he squirms beneath him.

Feeling Sami's body writhe, Kevin immediately breaks the kiss, fearing for his partners safety as he stares at Sami with concern in his eyes. "You okay?" He asks, breathless, pressing their foreheads together.

Sami nods, panting heavily. "Yeah, it's been a while." He explains, admiring how much softer Kevin has become throughout the years.

Kevin breathes a sigh of relief, if anything were to happen to Sami he'd never be able to forgive himself. "We'll take it slow." He replies softly, brushing Sami's damp ginger curls out of his face and tucking them gently behind his ear. "Let me know if you want me to stop."

Sami nods again, when in reality he never wants Kevin to stop. He wants him to make sweet, passionate love to him until the sun comes up like they did when they were young and didn't believe in true love. Before they knew what a "soulmate" actually was. His heart beating faster as he watches Kevin wriggle out of his pants and hang them alongside his shirt. His gaze meeting Sami's as he helps unzip his own pants, fingers skimming over his thighs, giving him goosebumps.

Kevin memorized every curve, every inch of Sami's body, knowing exactly where to touch to stimulate his partner and leave him begging for more. His neck being the most sensitive as he leaves a trail of soft feathery kisses down to his collarbone, taking delight in the soft whimpers spilling from Sami's lips. "Kevin." He gasps, his voice thick with lust. "Je suis prêt." He murmurs breathlessly, his head spinning.

Hearing the desperation in Sami's voice combined with the breathy way he says his name leaving him rock-hard as he obeys Sami's command, gradually easing his way inside. He watches Sami intently as he starts to thrust, his face contorting with pleasure as a satisfied moan rings out, piercing the silence. "You don't know what you do to me." Kevin breathes, trying desperately to hold on, but it's been ages.

"I have a pretty good idea." Sami quips, waggling his eyebrows playfully. "I love you, Kev." He whispers softly, cupping his cheek.

"Je t’aime aussi, Sami." Kevin whispers back, holding him close as he picks up the pace, making the car rock back and forth. "Gonna cum, cum with me!" He cries out, burying his face in the crook of Sami's neck as he finds his release, spurting his warm seed deep inside Sami.

Sami isn't far behind, shuddering as his orgasm washes over him. Fingers delicately caressing the small of Kevin's back as they cling to one another, breathing heavily. With their clothes still damp, they settle on wrapping a blanket around them in order to stay warm. "Twenty years later and you still rock my world." Sami remarks, staring up at Kevin with adoration, a gleam emerging in his honey eyes.

Kevin smirks in response, typically he'd let the compliment go to his head but he isn't that guy anymore. "All it takes is a kiss to the neck and you're purring like a kitten." He says, reminiscing back to their first sexual encounter where he was made aware of this revelation.

A knowing smile graces Sami's lips, he couldn't believe Kevin remembered. He was so young and inexperienced. Kevin was so kind and gentle, a side he never knew existed. "Those lips are magic." He replies in a hushed whisper, his gaze drifting to his mouth. "Abracadabra! Sami melts like a stick of butter. Hocus-pocus, presto-"

His sentence cut short by Kevin's finger. "For my next trick: Making the redheaded chatterbox stop talking." He quips, pressing his lips softly but firmly against a giggling Sami's, their souls forever intertwined.

A/N: Thanks for the request, there's more where that came from!

Tagging: @loki69zowens, @kayfabebabe, @wrestlingdespairings, @racerchix21, @unintentionaloracle, @low-x-battery, @stardust181, @coloursflyaway, @riveliciousx, @manon-omega, @kevinsteen, @pikapuff-316, @kristalynn94, @existwithpride, @eleanor24, @go-beatrizaf-blog, @anothersabah and @himbos-hotline. If you'd like to be added to my tag list, LMK. Thank you for reading, as always! 😊

#Zowens #Sami Zayn #Kevin Owens #Request #NSFW.

[genshinluvr]

I can’t help but wonder how would the Genshin men (specifically Dain and Ayato🤭) react to Isekai'd!reader coming to there bedroom in the middle of the night during a loud thunder storm and asking if they can sleep with them cuz they are scared of loud noises?:)

[Mini story timeeeee :> This isn't really much of a request, but I'm in the mood to type something out! All I can think is fluff and soft stuff hehe]

Your head peeked into Dainsleif's bedroom after you had knocked on his bedroom door. The blond male seems to be awake, reading a book in his head. He looks over in your direction before looking at you curiously.

"[Y/N], what are you doing up so late?" Dainsleif asks softly, closing the book in his hands before setting it down on the nightstand.

"Is it okay if I sleep with you tonight?" You ask nervously, feeling your entire body shake at the sound of faint thunder in the distance. You never knew that it could rain in the abode. You had always assumed that it would be sunny whenever it was the morning and daytime. But since it was nightfall, the rain and thunder came out of nowhere, catching you off guard.

"Oh? Why is that?" Dainsleif looks at you quizzically. Before you could respond, the entire room was lit up by lightning for a split second. A loud crash rang throughout the estate, causing you to squeak and cower behind Dainsleif's bedroom door. Dainsleif got up from his bed and walked over to where you stood. He gently grabs you by your waist, pulling you into his bedroom.

"You can stay for the night. I don't mind." Dainsleif says softly, closing the bedroom door. Before you could say anything, a clap of thunder fills your ears, causing you to latch yourself onto Dainsleif, burying your face into his chest. You grabbed onto Dainsleif’s sleep shirt tightly, shaking like a leaf against him.

Dainsleif lifts you up before carrying you over to his bed. He gently places you down on the bed before crawling onto his bed. Once Dainsleif lays down on his bed, you immediately held onto him, your arms wrapped around his waist.

“I forgot to mention that I’m terrified of thunderstorms.” You whispered softly, peeking up at Dainsleif with a red face. A small smile appears on Dainsleif’s face, he brushes your hair away from your face.

“There’s nothing to be worried about. I’m here to protect you.” Dainsleif murmurs, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead. You feel your face become hot as you held onto him tighter. You hear a faint chuckle coming from Dainsleif as he combs his fingers through your hair, lulling you to sleep.

The next few days weren’t as bad as you would think they would. After the first-ever thunderstorm at the abode, everything has been relatively peaceful. You were able to sleep in your bedroom all alone with your plushies without disturbing the fifteen men, and you didn’t scramble to Dainsleif’s bedroom whenever it stormed. Yes, there was rain here and there, but it was light rain. Nothing to worry about, correct? Wrong, you were wrong. The storm was even worse than the previous night.

The thunderstorm was so bad that your bedroom window shook, and the strong winds pushed against the window, startling you from your sleep. You looked around your dark bedroom, fear gnawing at you. Your first instinct was to run over to Dainsleif’s bedroom for comfort, but then you realized that you didn’t want to disturb Dainsleif. You knew that Dainsleif wouldn’t mind you sleeping in the same room as he was during the thunderstorm, but you couldn’t help but feel guilty. So, you have decided to go to the next person for comfort. Kamisato Ayato.

You shoved the blankets off of your body before scrambling out of your bedroom. You walk down the hallway and towards Ayato’s bedroom before knocking on the door softly. You weren’t sure if Ayato would be able to hear your knock on his bedroom door while a storm was brewing outside of the mansion, but luckily he did. Ayato opened his bedroom door, rubbing his eyes sleepily before his gaze fell on you.

“Oh, [Y/N]! What can I do for you?” He asked. Ayato looks tired. Almost like he just woke up. Oh crap, did you wake him up?

“Did I wake you up, Ayato?” You ask softly, looking at him worriedly. 

Ayato yawns before shaking his head, “I was actually heading off to bed now. Do you need anything?” He asks, looking at you curiously.

“Is it okay with you if I sleep with you tonight? There’s a thunderstorm outside, and it’s hard for me to sleep.” You said, looking away from Ayato shyly, cheeks heating up. “I-I’m also afraid of thunderstorms.” You added softly.

Ayato looks at you in surprise before a smile appears on his face. “Of course, I don’t mind if you sleep in my room tonight. As long as it makes you feel safe and comforted.” Ayato nods his head. He opens the door widely for you, letting you into his bedroom.

You lay in Ayato’s bed as he climbs into bed beside you, pulling you into his arms. Your back was pressed up against Ayato’s chest, his arms wrapping around your waist. His chin resting on your shoulders, he gently rubs your arms. You feel your eyelids begin to grow heavy, you let out a small yawn.

“Thank you, Ayato.” You said softly, slowly dozing off to sleep.

“Anything for you, [Y/N],” Ayato says, pressing a kiss on your shoulders.

#genshinluvr #genshinluvr answers

[animeniacss]

So Close Yet So Far - Mingyu x Reader - Prologue

Synopsis: Your college friend, Kim Mingyu, has had a grip on your heart since the first day you met. Over the past few years, as you acquired more friendships and memories, those feelings only grew. However, recently, Mingyu has seemed a bit more distant, at least when it comes to any ideas of romance. It only gets worse when rumors fly that he's off to Japan to receive a marriage proposal! Unsure what to do, you wonder how you can keep Mingyu by your side without jeopardizing your friendship or your growing feelings. You never expected that waking up one drunken morning next to two hot angels would be your ticket into Mingyu's heart.

Genre: Romance, College!AU, Modern Fantasy, Comedy, Angsty

Length: Approx. 700 words

Feat. Mina of TWICE

 Prologue

--------------Present Day-----------

So, this is how it ends. You thought to yourself, leaning back in your lush, brightly decorated chair. You brushed the tickling sensation of the tablecloth off your knee and inner thigh, pushing it back under the table before fixing your dress. Silverware and glasses shook, vibrating a low harmony with one another as they steadied themselves.

           The sound of a microphone screeched into the room, temporarily cutting through the layer of idle chitchat that had befallen the beautifully decorated banquet hall. Someone up at the front of the room was speaking, but you could barely hear it. Not because it was too loud, but because your mind tried so desperately to drown out the voice. I can’t handle it. I don’t want to hear it…Your head rested in your hand, elbow acting as a stand on the table to keep you from slamming it down. Maybe that would be a good excuse to go home. No, I can’t leave. You thought. I need to sit here. I deserve to see this. I didn’t do enough….I wasn’t enough….I wasn’t enough….

           Suddenly, you felt a gentle hold on your shoulder, a squeeze from a firm, yet gentle hand. A feeling of calmness attempted to override the current disdain that was coursing your veins. You looked over, eyes watering as you stared at a blurry figure beside you. You couldn’t make out who it was, but you knew you felt okay. You felt ok.

           Claps and cheer erupted in the room, and you turned your head, wiping your eyes frantically. Your hands banged together like a drum you weren’t controlling, chewing your inner lip as two figures walked out before the cheering crowd. Under one large spotlight, stood a beautifully statuesque individual, his dark black hair combed back and styled to go well with his freshly pressed suit. You saw him smile just a bit, but you could tell how white his teeth were as his lips curled. The left side lifted ever so slightly higher than the right as he looked around. On his arm stood another figure, just as beautiful as he in her stunning white gown and veil covering her face. It was as if the duo were plucked straight out of a wedding magazine and set right in front of your eyes.

           I could never be enough. You felt that thought to pierce your brain and shoot right into your heart, and you had to contain a sob, hopping the harder you clapped, the less obvious it would seem to those sitting around you. Another hand pressed against your back, but this time you couldn’t muster the strength to look away. You simply closed your eyes, taking a deep breath as the clapping around you slowly began to stop. When you turned your head, you looked behind you to see two men. You couldn’t make out their faces, most likely because you continued to feel tears well up once again, and it was dark anywhere other than the stage, but their silhouettes told you they were close to one another, and the faint noise coming from their direction. Were they…whispering? You could make out what they were saying and only closed your eyes once more. You wanted to drown out the entire night; go back to when it was simpler. Before you got yourself involved with nonsense that you knew would never work out.

           The sound of your name being called felt faint at first, so you chose to ignore it. However, as you heard it get louder and louder, you couldn’t ignore it anymore. Especially when a familiar deep voice began calling it. You felt your head spinning, and you had to open your eyes, hoping your wish would be a reality. 

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#kim mingyu #fanfiction #seventeen fanfiction #reader insert #mingyu x reader #scoups #jun #jeonghan #joshua #woozi #hoshi #dk #the8 #seungkwan #dino #vernon #wonwoo

[madam-kumo]

Le Cercueil de Verre

(Yandere Vil x Female Reader)

A fanfic version of the original Snow White stories

Clack

Vil's heels stepped into the large room. He walked past the forgotten and unused gifts he had so gratefully gifted her and the makeup that had long since expired. He dare not throw them away, his dear lover had used it at one point long ago. His blonde lock gently hid the side of his face; it hid his loving smile and heart eyes.

Once he reached the corner of the room, he gently slid his hand over the cold glass. Vil watched as your eyes continued to stay hidden behind your caked lids. The flowers in your resting hands had long since died against your chest but he dare not disturb your before the time has come for him to. Soft puffs appeared on the glass as your chest slowly raised up and down.

Vil felt that he should never hide you in the dark ground and let you be scared of the pitch black void of dirt. You were too beautiful for him to even imagine putting you in the ground like some forgotten pair of shoes in his closet.

Your white dress lay gently across your body like an ocean over land and your jeweled necklace and rings gleamed in the candle light. Vil always felt a rush of pride flow over him anytime he saw the lovely wedding ring on your finger. Oh, how he wished he could hold your hand so you could see his own matching ring. The comb he had specially made for you with his own two hands spiked into your hair like an elegant crown and the corset -he had stringed so tightly that you could almost see every bone in your torso- had not even a singly thread popping out of the expensive lace.

Nearby, a shining bitten into apple lay in a glass box, surrounded by golden accents. Vil treated it like a trophy, after all, it was the objects that brought you to where you are now. Due to it's magical creation, it would never rot and would continue to glimmer like the sun in it's proper place, to gaze upon like a statue.

"Ah~ my love, how I can't wait for you to awaken so we can start anew. I know you'll be upset that I have made you sleep for so long, I just needed some more time" Vil smiled as he rested his head on the glass coffin. He traced your face into the glass with his finger tips as he imagined the life you two would enjoy once you had waken up from your long slumber and allowed him to treat you like his queen. His smile widened just thinking about it.

He continued to continue the mind pictures of you two having a family, living in peace and quiet, and-

The box started to shake.

Vil lifted his head up to look down at your form in his silent but alarmed form. His violet eyes lit up as he saw your face scrunching up and slowly, your eyes opened. "Guards!" He said in a hurry as men with armor appeared at his side in mere moments. "Yes sir!" The guards said as Vil stood up, trying his best to keep himself from acting like a child high on sugar. "Get this case off of your queen, Immediately!" He cried as the guards dashed to hurriedly but carefully lift the heavy box from your form and set it to the side of you.

You lift yourself up as you look around. Your eyes widen as your body starts to sweat. "V-Vil..." You stutter as you try to pick yourself up but find you are too fatigued to do so; your body hasn't been moving for years after all. You hugged yourself, trying to make yourself as small as possible.

Everything felt heavy in your gut as you started to shake and your lip quivered; the guards surrounding you two were two much. It was as if they were just as twisted as he was for letting this happen to you.

Tears fell from your face as Vil's eyes softened as he brushed his soft fingers over your cheek to wipe away the river flowing from your eyes. You started to breathe heavier as Vil wrapped his arms around you.

"I know it's a lot to take in right now but-" He looked into your eyes. "you will forever be my queen and I will finally have my happily ever after"

#Vil x Reader #Vil Schoenheit #TWST x reader #Twisted Wonderland

[sisters-sideblog]

Links Meet AU Morning Routines:

Wind and Wars: Shave together. Wars puts his hair up in a little topknot for it every time. Wind gave up on keeping his curls out of the shaving cream long ago. Wars keeps his appearance meticulous but has it down to an art form so it doesn't take long. Wind only combs out the worst of the tangles.

Hyrule: Fluffs out his hair. 

Spirit: Morning person. How is she already that awake. How is she already dressed. Ugh. Skips the prosthetic most days but if she’s going to wear it that’s part of getting dressed.

Legend: Clings to Ravio until Ravio pries himself free. Just five more minutes. 

Ravio: Was awake long before Legend and wants his tea now. Makes sure he’s dressed before too many of the late risers are up and things get really hectic. Pries Legend out of bed with tea or breakfast. 

Wild: Redoes her bun only if it’s falling apart, puts her brace on if it’s a bad pain day or if they might be fighting, takes meds, and gets water for tea and warm breakfast going cuz she’s one of the first up and she might as well. 

Men: immediately gets dressed, brushes out his hair, shaves if he needs to. He'll help with food later but he must appear presentable before anything else.

Minish: Was awake and playing (or snooping through someone else's stuff) a long time ago. Eventually brings her hair things to whoever she’s decided is going to do that for her today. Only gets dressed once someone shoves day-clothes at her.

Twilight: Spends .2 seconds on his appearance, looks for ways he can help get everyone else moving since he’s used to having to run off and take care of animals first thing and gets restless. Usually sets himself the task of corralling the younger ones.

Sky: Doesn’t move from his bed until someone comes and jumps on him. Maintaining his locs usually happens on the go or in the evening, when he's more awake.

Mask: Would prefer to sleep in but Minish has probably bothered him awake and now their ruckus is waking up everyone else.

Rhythm: VERY bleary until xe’s had breakfast. That hat hides a multitude of tangles.

Four: Would have an easier time getting ready if not for Shadow. Very often seen staggering around, attempting to brush their hair and get dressed with Shadow hanging off their shoulders. Shadow doesn’t need a morning routine, though it won’t turn down breakfast.

Ocarina: Missing his husband and QPP is keeping him in bed much later than he usually would, but he still takes the time to thoroughly brush his hair every day, pick out jewelry, maybe put on some makeup... One of the most likely to delay everyone in the morning.

#lmau #headcanons #is it still a headcanon if it's for my own au lol oh well