#there is this idea of what a mother should be and any woman outside of that box is condemned

[ithebookhoarder]

Truth or Dare (Anthony Bridgerton x Wife!Reader)

Summary: Married only a few months, you are very much one of the Bridgerton brood - something that often drives your poor husband mad, especially when you happen to be every bit as chaotic and unruly as his siblings... Also known as, you, Benedict and Eloise take a game of ‘truth or dare’ a bit too far. 

A/N: What can I say? It’s well and truly fluff-tober over here on my blog 😅

Warnings: Alcohol, mild smut, swearing, Anthony losing his mind, typical Bridgerton sibling shenanigans 

Masterlist

There weren’t many nights Anthony spent away from your side.

They were few and far between, but that didn’t lessen how irksome you found them when the odd occasion called for him to leave you over night. You didn’t know what it was exactly, but you never truly slept well without your husband there to hold you.

Of course, it had to be one of those nights that you truly found yourself in a spot of mischief. Though, in fairness, it had all started rather innocently.

Un-beknowst to you at the time, it was Benedict that had been first outside on the garden swing, sipping from a stolen bottle of whiskey he’d pilfered from the kitchens. He’d been sat there perhaps ten minutes by himself, staring at the stars and lamenting about some problem or other.

Then Eloise had come along.

As was her habit - you later discovered - she had been swift to follow her brother’s example, sneaking out of the house in her nightgown for a reprieve in the night air… and a cigarette or two. Apparently her second-eldest brother was something of a soft touch when it came to her, not that you could blame him for it. You doted on Eloise too.

Then, finally, completing the eclectic cast of characters, there had been you.

Now, in your defence, you hadn’t intended on going out into the garden that night, but had found no other alternative suitable given the blasted summer heat. It was worse tonight that it had been all week, and without Anthony in bed beside you, you saw little point in enduring with the effort of trying to get any rest.

So, you’d decided to make your way quietly through the house and sit outside a while, and pray for a breeze. You hadn’t, however, expected to find both Bridgerton siblings already sat there, having had a similar idea.

“My, what do we have here? Another night owl?”

It was Benedict who spoke first, smiling warmly at the sight of you appearing out of the darkness. He was quick to rise, offering you his swing as a perch to rest upon, beside Eloise.

You were about to protest that it wasn’t necessary and that you could find somewhere else to sit, but a warning glare from Eloise was enough to silence you.

She was all too eager to pat the seat next to her in invitation, looking remarkably pleased to have another addition to their little party.

“Come. Sit,” she ordered. “We were simply discussing how tedious Lady Tremaine’s luncheon will be tomorrow and how we could possibly avoid the whole thing. Now that you’re here, you can help us plot our escape. Benedict’s only suggestion thus far has been some kind of contagious summer cold.”

“I think I actually said that I would use such an excuse, sister,” Benedict corrected with a teasing grin. “Not that we would share it.”

“Traitor.”

“Hardly. It is every man - or woman - for themselves. Right, Y/N?”

“Alas, I think your mother would be rather suspicious at all three of us suddenly being absent,” you sighed by way of explanation as both their eyes turned to you. “Besides, I only came outside because of this heat, not to join some conspiracy.”

“Hardly,” Eloise chuckled. “We simply had the same idea, but I am rather glad you came to join us. Perhaps we should form some secret kind of club - Bridgertons against boredom?”

“And do what? Constantly find excuses not to attend social events we deem too tedious or odious to be dragged along to?”

“Sounds like a marvellous idea to me.”

“It would, sister dear,” Benedict teased. “You always have a talent for causing chaos and anarchy. You’d suit the cause perfectly, even if we both know our mother would never stand for it. She somehow sees through even our best efforts.”

“In which case, it’s time I take a leaf out of your book, Benedict. After all, you always say social events become far more bearable after a good drink or two,” Eloise smirked, gesturing towards the bottle of whiskey Benedict had been steadily nursing. “Perhaps I should follow my brothers  example and learn to hold a drink, maybe then things will be more fun.”

“Oh no.” Benedict was quick to shut down that idea, holding the bottle possessively to his chest and shaking his head. “No. I am not allowing you to start drinking. Mother would have my head if she caught you, not to mention Anthony would have all ours heads on a platter in no time.”

The thought of it made you laugh. Your husband was hardly a tyrant, even if he’d been known to have a temper but he was easy enough to handle. A few soft words in his ear or a kiss on the cheek and he was putty in your hands, helplessly and completely in love with you. Just as you were in love with him.

“Don’t tell me you’re scared of Anthony, Benedict?” you giggled, causing Eloise to join you. “I assure you, he’s more a kitten than a lion and he’d probably prefer you to allow Eloise to sample alcohol here, under your supervision, than when she inevitably decides to rebel and has her first drink later on, in the middle of some public ball…”

The warning was clear and you all knew very likely true. Still, Eloise was beaming in victory as Benedict cursed to himself, muttering about Bridgerton women and the likely death he’d receive should Anthony ever find out he had allowed Eloise to sample whiskey. “Just a few sips, El. I mean it.”

“Oh hush,” she snorted, taking the bottle before he could change his mind. She was quick to throw back her head and down a rather brave mouthful, causing you to laugh even harder as she scrunched her face up in disgust. “Oh! That is revolting.”

“I told you.”

“Now you, Y/N,” Eloise grinned, turning and offering the offending item towards you. “Go on. Join us trouble makers - I won’t say a word about it if you don’t.”

“Oh, for goodness sake… Give me that then,” you sighed, earning a cheer from them both, knowing it was better to simply surrender rather than try and fight their mischievous whims. It only increased as you took an ambitious swig from the bottle, wincing at the acrid burning sensation it left in your throat.

If only Anthony could have seen you. He’d have probably had some kind of seizure - especially as you took another quick swig before handing the bottle back.

“There. Your turn again, brother dearest.”

“My my. You really are quite surprising,” Benedict sniggered, before winking up at you in admiration. “Who knew it? You can hold your drink better than Colin. He seems cursed to choke any time he drinks anything stronger than a brandy.”

“Well, it is your sex that falsely deemed us the weaker,” Eloise quipped. “It’s not our fault you were ignorant.”

“I’d like to remind you I wasn’t part of that decision and you also looked ready to choke a moment ago, El.”

“Doesn’t matter, you’re still one of the enemy,” she giggled, earning another raucous laugh from you. Oh, you loved her. If you’d ever been so blessed to have had a sister, you hoped she’d have been just like her. “Now, it is your turn again, brother.”

“Oh … joy.”

“Else we shall have to have some kind of forfeit.”

“A forfeit?” you scoffed, finding the idea absurd. “Like what?”

“How about… truth or dare?”

Benedict froze. “Oh no. Not again. Pall Mall is one thing but we swore we would never play that game in this family again-“

“But Benedict-“

“What’s truth or dare?”

Your innocent question ceased their bickering instantly. Their eyes widened as they turned to you, a knowing and nervous look passing between them. Somehow, you knew this evening was about to get wildly out of hand.

Sometime later, you’d been fully apprised of the rules of ‘truth or dare’. In fact, you’d been something of a natural at it, even if you knew the copious amounts of whiskey you’d all consumed was more than likely the responsible culprit. Else, you’d probably have known better and snuck back off inside before you could make a fool of yourself.

By the end of the night, Benedict had climbed a tree, confessed to being oddly scared of spiders, and been forced to sing the national anthem in French.

Eloise had also made an admirable effort, despite her obviously lower tolerance for drink. She still permitted Benedict to try and arrange her hair, before daring to steal a sock from Colin’s room whilst he’d slept. Then she’d loosened a leg on a dining chair. (Alas, none of you could remember which one but that somehow made it even funnier - even if it would not be come morning when you were forced to sit at the table for breakfast in some kind of roulette.)

You could only pray you didn’t choose said seat.

You could also only pray neither of your conspirators shared your contributions with your husband. You weren’t exactly sure how Anthony would feel at the fact you gone for a midnight paddle in the pond, nor that you’d mixed up the papers on his desk, all before finishing the night with a final dare that involved stealing several cakes from the kitchens… you still swore Mrs Reynolds would notice, come morning, that there were no longer twelve perfect cakes.

That, and Benedict had somehow knocked flour all over the counter, causing you all to erupt in drunken laughter as you’d bolted back outside.  

Needless to say, you all looked a sorry sight as you lay in the grass together, staring at the approaching dawn. Had you not been so tired, or drunk, you may have suggested retiring back to your rooms before the house awoke shortly.

“Now that… was fun.”

“Fun? That was more than fun. I haven’t laughed like that in ages.”

“Told you it was a good idea.”

You hummed in agreement with your sister in law.

“I can see why you all favoured this game so much,” you sniggered, winking at Eloise as she sat in the grass beside you. “I can also see why you all agreed to stop playing it… I don’t know what Anthony would say if he saw what we’d been up to.”

“Something sensible and disapproving most likely,” Benedict sniggered. “Our brother, and your husband, can be a right prig, no offence.”

“Oh hush. At least I didn’t let my sister dress me up in her petticoat when she was five.”

Benedict’s jaw dropped.

“Who told you about that?” he demanded indignantly.

“I have my sources.”

Benedict’s eyes narrowed as he turned his head to glare at his younger sister. “Well, you can tell your source that she’s going to have to find someone else to fetch her lemonade at the Cowper’s ball tomorrow night unless she apologises. You can also tell her that I’ll accept either a verbal or a written apology as long as it’s suitably abject. And that means very, very abject,” he added darkly.

“Tell me, Benedict, was it a lacy petticoat?”

With a wordless grunt of annoyance, Benedict groaned, but it was hard to hear over the laughter echoing from you and Eloise. You resembled more a pack of hyenas than two noble ladies - you probably looked just as feral after your night of mischief.

And of course, as was always your luck, that was exactly how your husband found you mere seconds later.

How Anthony had arrived without any of you hearing a carriage pulling up to the house at this time of the night - morning? You couldn’t be sure - was a mystery. Yet, there he was, hands on hips and looking thunderous as he stormed towards the three of you with all the fury of an exasperated headmaster.  

“What in God’s name are you all playing at?”

You all froze.

It was as if someone had poured a bucket of ice water over you as your eyes widened, and you all turned to stare sheepishly at him.

“Oh, darling. You’re home?”

“Don’t ‘oh darling’ me,” Anthony sighed, attempting to scold you but without much success. His attempt at seriousness was somewhat undermined by his brother’s heckling, singing ‘here comes mother’ and that ‘someone’s in trouble’. That, and with the way you were lying, he was upside down. “What are you doing up at this god forsaken hour? And why are you … is that flour? And why are you soaking wet?”

“I went for a swim.”

“A - you went for a -“

“And Benedict did my hair,” Eloise interjected suddenly, waving her arms about as she gestured to the tangle of hair upon her head. “Isn’t it marvellous?”

Anthony’s expression very much said that he did not think it was marvellous. Nor did he find any of this vaguely amusing.

In fact, by the way he took a long deep breath, you knew he was doing his best not to lose his temper and wake the entirety of the household. His brow always creased like that when he was faced with dealing with his family, but the expression only made him seem more adorable and handsome to you, rather than authoritative. However, you’d never told him so, knowing it would hardly be deemed a compliment in his eyes.

You also doubted he’d appreciate your usual response right now, which was normally to kiss said brow until it eased back into its relaxed form.

“We were just playing a game to escape the heat, darling,” you soothed. “We couldn’t sleep and all had the same idea to seek refuge outdoors… we simply got carried away passing the time.”

“What game?”

“Pardon?”

“I said, what was the game you were all playing?” Anthony suddenly quipped, the warning clear in his tone. That, and his eyes landed squarely on his two siblings, who at least had the decency to look sheepish… and afraid. “Because there is but one game I can think of that would result in a mess like this one, and I’m confused, because I know for a fact that we banned that game under this roof, and any other roof that houses the Bridgertons.”

No one moved.

No one even breathed.

It was as if you were all too scared to risk answering Anthony, even if the empty bottle of whiskey did most of the talking by itself.

“I don’t recall the name,” you blinked. “Right, Benedict?”

“Oh, uh… we… we were just- Eloise?”

Eloise froze, the guilt written all too clearly on her face for her to even try and salvage the situation - though that could also be down to the whisky she had consumed… it was honestly hard to be sure at this point.

“Well, dear brother,” she began, only to trail off as Anthony lifted his hand.

The silence was instantaneous. 

No one dared to say another word, let alone move. 

You’d never seen Eloise or Benedict so still in your entire life. Hell, you weren’t even sure they were breathing - probably out of fear Anthony would decide to inform their mother about their mischievous exploits. 

If Anthony Bridgerton was scary when vexed, then Violet Bridgerton was a nightmare brought to life in human form. After all, as the matriarch of a family of eight children, she had learned a long time ago how to keep her unruly children in line - a harrowing experience you had only had occasion to witness once or twice since your marriage into the Bridgerton family. Once had been when Colin and Gregory had broken a priceless vase when racing around the house, despite being explicitly banned from doing so. The other had been when she had caught Eloise and Benedict smoking outside on the terrace one night. 

It was easy to say where your husband had inherited it from. 

“Not. Another. Word,” your husband growled, bending down and sweeping you up into his arms in a move that made you squeal in surprise. “Right now, I am taking my wife to bed and I suggest you two do the same - after you clean up your mess. I’ll deal with the lot of you in the morning.” 

A laugh escaped you as you tried not to look like you were enjoying the sudden turn of events too much. After all, you doubted he’d be too happy once you were more sober and he discovered the true extent of your nightly activities. 

It was why you were only too happy to let him put you to bed, grumbling all the while about letting his siblings run wild. He really was most handsome when he was flushed - a fact you were reminded of as he hastily changed for bed, flashing you a tempting glimpse of his bare torso in the process. 

You could tell without asking he was tired from his journey home, as well as fighting the urge to rip his hair out over the chaos he had found upon his return. 

Thankfully, his need to be in your arms outweighed the need to scold you over letting yourself be drawn into his siblings’ schemes. All it took was you pulling him down onto the mattress, and climbing into his lap to turn him into a needy, lovestruck puddle. 

You’d equally missed having him in your arms, but you’d be lying if you said that your sudden forwardness wasn't also due to a mixture of the whiskey you’d drunk, and the residual giddiness from a night of mischief. A confidence radiated from you as you began to run your hands over his bare chest, taking care to graze the areas you knew made him groan. 

“You’re lucky I love you so much,” he teased breathlessly, visibly unable to refuse your advances. 

“Is that so?”

Anthony chuckled, nodding as he surged his lips towards yours. “Yes, so come here, my delinquent drunken wife, and let me kiss you before you and those doe-eyes of yours drive me insane. Now.”

Your laughter and surrender was immediate. “As you wish.” 

Alas, for poor Anthony, that was not the end of the ordeal. 

In fact, it was the next morning as you made your way into breakfast that you faced the final consequences of your delinquency. 

Despite wishing to remain abed for the entire day, you’d been granted no such reprieve as your maid had entered your room at the usual appointed time and proceeded to open the curtains with no regard for the fact that you had slept a mere handful of hours. Whereas you would normally greet the day with a reluctant smile, you were in no state to manage much more than a groan as you were harshly ripped from your slumber.

If you had somehow not yet come to the conclusion that last night had been a bad idea, then the sudden flare of pain in your head at the bright intrusion was all the proof you needed. That, and the sudden churning in your stomach. 

You would never let Benedict or Eloise coax you into drinking with them again. 

You had not realised, despite how the idiom went, that what went up was sure to come down again - and you had come crashing down. 

Hard.

“If you’re ready to dress, my lady, then breakfast will be served shortly,” your maid chirped, a dress already picked out for you to wear. She either couldn't detect your fragile state, or didn't seem to care as she continued speaking at a painfully loud volume. “My Lord sent me to wake you as he is finishing business in the study. He was up frightfully early, I could scarce believe it went the housemaids told me they’d already found him awake when they went to start the fires this morning. Gave young Samantha a right fright he did, scribbling away at his desk.” 

“Oh?” you croaked. 

You hadn’t even noticed the empty space in the bed bedside you until then. 

Clearly Anthony had risen early, if he’d even gone to sleep at all. Why were you not surprised? Your husband was perpetually in motion, always claiming there was something or someone that needed his urgent attention as the head of the Bridgerton clan. It was just one of the things that made you love him so much.

“Is he still there?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” the young girl continued, breezing about your room. “And that’s not the only strange incident this morning. It will tickle you rotten when I tell you the latest drama, but you see, Mrs Reynolds was ranting and raving about how she swore she had made three trays of fruit tarts last night, yet this morning, there were only two. The youngest kitchen maid, Betsy, is convinced it must be a ghost but my money is on Carter - the groom’s boy - he’s always snooping about the kitchen...” 

You winced. Ah. Maybe you hadn't been as stealthy last night as you’d hoped after all...

With as much enthusiasm as you could muster, you began to peel yourself from the mattress, trying to appear as if you were listening to your maid’s theories as she dressed you for the day. It then took all your resolve to make it downstairs and to the breakfast table without tripping over your own feet, or emptying the non-existent contents of your stomach. 

To your relief, only Eloise and Benedict had so far taken a seat at the breakfast table - and both looked about as miserable as you felt.  

“Good morning,” you mumbled, taking your usual chair next to the head of the table. You were quick to accept the steaming cup of coffee Benedict handed you, shooting him a thankful look. “Dare I ask how we feel?” 

“I think better than you and my dear sister here,” Benedict chirped, gesturing at a miserable looking Eloise. She had her head in her hands and was desperately trying to look at the plate of food in front of her with something other than repulsion. “Then again, I must admit I am somewhat more experienced in the art of late-night mischief than you both. I also did not have to deal with my brother before going to bed - thank you, again, for that noble sacrifice.”

“Your welcome,” you chuckled, a faint heat rising in your cheeks as you remembered the exact events after you and Anthony had gone to bed. “I just feel bad that you both got left to clean up the mess.” 

“Don’t be. I think we got it all.”

“You say that but I can’t remember anything after you started singing in French,” Eloise groaned, massaging her forehead once more. “I have the oddest feeling we may have forgotten something.”

You paused. You could only hope for your sake she was wrong. 

However, you were saved from such discussion by the arrival of the rest of the Bridgerton bunch. All conversation about your night-time escapades were quickly forgotten as Colin, Hyacinth and Gregory entered the room, bickering about something you couldn’t quite make out. They were swiftly followed by Violet and Francesca, who both looked unfairly cheerful for so early in the morning. 

You could only wish to look so fresh and composed before your first cup of whatever caffeinated beverage you could get your hands on. 

Then, finally, came your husband. Entering the room last, he turned and shot you a warm smile. Clearly, your shenanigans had been forgotten - for now - replaced instead by the memory of your other activities, much to the relief of you and your co-conspirators. 

In fact, you swore you saw Eloise exhale a breath of relief when Anthony didn't immediately launch into one of his lectures. Instead, he chose to join the rest of his family in helping himself to the awaiting breakfast spread, laid out on the sideboard for them, listening to some ongoing debate between his mother and youngest brother. 

“-but you said we could visit the park this afternoon.”

“I know, sweetheart, but I have to take Francesca and Eloise for their final fittings at the modiste. We shouldn’t be too long, and we can go after? Unless, perhaps your brothers will take you. Colin? Benedict? Anthony?”

Benedict looked physically pained at the idea of an afternoon at the park, what with his current delicate constitution and all. You honestly couldn't blame him. “Well, I uh - have a drawing class, this afternoon. Very last minute. Sorry.” 

“And I... um, have a meeting at the club?” Colin stammered hastily. “Anthony?” 

“Please, Anthony?” Gregory begged, all but pouting at his older brother as the pair made their way to the table. “I promise I’ll do all my lessons this week without complaining if you say yes. I’ll even let you have my pudding tonight.”

“As you asked so nicely, brother, I don’t see how an hour or so at the park could do any harm -” Anthony began, pulling out the chair next to you and lowering himself onto the seat in a moment that felt like it lasted forever as a horrifying sensation swept over you. 

You remembered what you’d forgotten. 

The chair.

“Anthony, wait-!”

The sudden crash was startling, as was the sight of your husband being sent flying backwards as the chair collapsed beneath him. 

No one moved. 

No one said a word. 

Benedict looked across at you and Eloise, the horror clear in his eyes as he choked the word you felt on the tip of your tongue: “Run!”

#Bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgerton fluff #bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton #eloise bridgerton #ithebookhoarder #thesilentmage #masterlist #Violet Bridgerton #gregory bridgerton #hyacinth bridgerton #francesca bridgerton #bridgerton fluff #jonathan bailey #colin bridgerton

[mavsstar]

𝑀𝑦 𝑆𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑡 𝑃𝑒𝑎

Summary ︱Mr. Levinson lives right next door to you, the sweet, innocent college girl. Little do you know that you're Mr. Levinson's favorite neighbor. He's there every chance you need the slightest of help, maybe a little too much.

Pairings︱Mechanic!Ari Levinson x Innocent!Fem!Reader, Robert Pronge x Innocent!Fem!Reader

W.C︱4k

Warnings︱18+ MINORS DNI, Trailer Park AU, it's pretty tame for right now, pet names (Sweet Pea),cursing, reader is scared of Pronge, masturbation (m!) and I think that is all the warnings. Let me know if I missed any!

Author's note︱I am very excited for this series :) This is set around the 90s just because I feel like it fits better with the idea I have going on in my head. It has been awhile since I've written anything so I'm hoping it's not too terrible. I hope you will enjoy this! Feedback is appreciated! Follow my side blog and turn on post notifications :D

“Did you see Mr. Levinson today?” your Mother’s friend, Valerie, asked while wiggling her eyebrows. 

“Nope,” you instantly responded. “Have you?” 

“Already got my dose of that sexy man.” She smirked while winking at you. 

Ari Levinson towered everyone he’s ever met. He stood at a proud 6'6. It was hard to miss the luscious brown locks that fell over his face and the cerulean blue eyes that you could never find your way out of. His beard adorned his jaw and hid the pump rose colored lips he held.

Even when he was doused in motor oil and dirt he was still a beautiful man. He was your neighbor and very well known at the trailer park. Ari was a woman’s walking wet dream come to life. 

“He’s already up?” you asked as your eyes bulged out of your head. “It’s like 6 in the morning.” 

“Of course he’s up, he’s having his morning coffee.” 

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Only you would know that stalker.”

“It’s not stalking Y/N, it's called being an astute observer,” she retorted. “That’s besides the point, shouldn’t you be heading out by now?” 

“I should be but…” you started to answer, looking out the window cautiously, “I have a feeling you know who is outside.”

“If you don’t leave now you’ll be late for work which by the way is in 20 minutes,” she reminded you, pointing towards the clock. 

“Please don’t remind me.” You internally groaned as you threw your head back and rubbed your eyes. 

After a few moments you finally decided to lift yourself from the couch and head your way out. Goosebumps arose on your arms as you opened the front door. You hated this kind of weather, you couldn’t be without a sweater in the morning but by 3pm you’d be sweating like a dog. You shrugged on your brother's jacket, not bothering to zip it up and closed the front door.

Just as you predicted, the person you dreaded seeing most was standing right outside, Mr. Pronge. 

Robert Pronge was your neighbor and lived right across from you. Ever since you moved in he formed the bad habit of staring at you and hitting on you like there’s no tomorrow. From what you heard he was a sick sadistic bastard who liked to torture girls with pleasure. He’s had many lovers enter the trailer but seemingly none of them come back.  

You didn’t like the way he makes you feel. It felt like a hungry lion stalking its predator, ready to pounce at any moment’s notice. At the same time you couldn’t help but feel hot. Everytime he was near you, your heart raced from the fear and you felt a pulse in between your legs. 

“Morning Princess!” Mr. Pronge called out from his front lawn.

“Good morning Mr. Pronge!” You greeted back but only to be polite. You tried to avoid looking too much at him and instead looked towards the ground. 

You heard shoes beating against the ground and you prayed with all your heart that it was someone else running. Luck was not on your side that morning. When you looked up it was the one and only Mr. Pronge. 

“Where are you going Princess?” he asked. His breath was minty fresh even though his appearance would say otherwise. 

“To work,” you bluntly replied, trying to open your car door. 

“Aw Princess, don’t be like that,” he cooed. Once you did get your car door open, he immediately slammed it closed, almost smashing your finger in the process. “I’ll give you a ride. Come on, let's go.” 

“I appreciate the offer Mr. Pronge but I can take myself,” you insisted while attempting to reopen your car door. 

“Princess…” he warningly said.

Mr. Pronge didn’t like it when people told him no. The word no did not exist in his world. 

“I said I’ll give you a ride.” 

“Leave her alone Robert!” Ari yelled from his porch, causing the both of you to turn around. “She’s probably late for work!” 

Mr. Pronge sighed as he stepped back in defeat. “I’ll take you next time Princess.” 

You internally groaned at his comment. He could never leave you alone. Every morning he would play this game with you. On the bright side, you were one of the very few people allowed to tell him no and get away with it. 

“Thank you Mr. Levinson!” you yelled as you got in the car. 

“Anytime!” Ari walked over to Robert after you drove off. Though his eyes never peeled off from you the entire time. 

“You’re always in my way,” Robert playfully commented. 

Ari chuckled at the jab. Ari always had to save you from him every morning without fail. “Rob, how many times have I told you to leave the poor girl alone?” He asked as he brought his cup of coffee to his lips. 

“I will never leave her alone,” he answered with a proud smirk. “Not until I make her mine.” 

“Oh please! You’re old!” Ari jabbed at him. “She’s going to want a hot 20 year old guy not some 40 year old.” 

“Her father was not present in her life.” 

“What does that have to do with anything?!” Ari asked, confused at Robert’s statement.

“The girl has major daddy issues, Ari,” Robert said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “All I gotta do is caress her a bit, say sweet nothings in her ear and bam! She will fall in love with me.”

“Do that and she will call the cops on you.” 

“I’d like to see her try,” Robert remarked as he crossed his arms across his chest. “Besides, why do you care?” 

“Because her mother is really starting to get concerned and-” 

“Oh that's why you’re concerned!” Robert hooted. “You want to fuck the mom!” 

“I do not want to have sex with her mom,” Ari declared with a serious tone. “The woman is stressed enough and I feel bad for her and I feel bad for the girl. I see her peek her head out of the door every morning to avoid you.” 

“Ari?” 

“Yes Rob?” 

“Mind your business.” 

The following morning was the same dreadful routine. You were trying to stall, not wanting to face Mr. Pronge though you knew he would be there. He always was. Even when you would try to leave at an earlier time. It’s like he would sleep there and wait for you. 

 Your mother shoved your car keys in your hand. “Sweetie, you need to go now before you’re late.”

“But what if he’s out there?” you asked with a slight hint of fear. 

“Is he still bothering you?!” she questioned, her overprotectiveness coming out. “I’ve had enough, I’m going out there.” 

“No! No! No!” you instantly said, jolting your hands out to stop her from taking another step. “Please don’t say anything. Mom please!” 

Your pleads were granted. She stayed still as she squinted at the window, sending a silent threat to Mr. Pronge.

“Fine,” she said. “But If I hear or even get the feeling, I’m going to rip his nutsack and his stupid smirk off of him.” 

“Wow,” you said with your eyes bulging out in shock.

“Sweetie, you’re too nice and a little bit–how can I put this?” she sarcastically questioned herself as she tilted her head to the side. “Oh yeah, you’re naive.” 

“I am not naive,” you muttered under your breath, offended. 

“Yes you are,” she said as she was walking out of the living room. “Now go to work!” 

You grabbed your bag from the couch and swung it over your shoulder. Your hand went on the doorknob, turning it to open the door. You peek your head out to see if you’re one and only was out there waiting for you. 

“He’s not there Sweet Pea!” Ari exclaimed. “You’re safe, you can come out!” 

“Thanks!” you yelled from the door, fully stepping out. You confidently walked over to your car, happy Mr. Pronge wasn’t outside to terrorize you. Your happiness was soon cut off when you saw a complete flat tire. 

“Dang it!” you cursed to yourself. You peered down at your watch, it was 6:41 A.M. You were trying to calculate how much time it would take to go on the bus and you heard the dreadful sound of boots hitting the road. 

“Oh no,” you internally whined. 

“Got a flat, Princess?” Mr. Pronge sarcastically asked. “I’ll give you a ride.”

Ari quickly stepped in. “Robert no.” You didn’t even hear him walk over to you. You looked at Ari in shock and sent a cry for help at the same time. “Leave her alone.” 

“She needs a ride, I’m giving her a ride. What is the problem?” he challenged, taking a step closer to him. 

“You’re not taking her.” 

Robert straightened his back and puffed his chest out. “And why not?” 

“Because I’m taking her. She was just getting something from her car.” Ari grabbed your bag from your hand and placed his hand on your lower back. “Lets go Sweet Pea,” he said as he guided you to his car, opening the door for you and handing you back your bag. 

Robert stood in shock. Ari was taking you. And you let him. Though he couldn’t say he wasn’t impressed, he was just wondering how he did it. That lucky bastard. 

The inside of his truck was bigger than you ever imagined. It was dirty and there were oil stains everywhere you looked. Wrenches were scattered across the floor along with bolts and lug nuts. The only thing that was almost impeccable was the air freshener hanging off the rearview mirror but there were five oil stained fingerprints on it.

“Thank you for the ride Mr. Levinson, you didn’t have to take me. I could've taken the bus.” 

“Don’t even mention it Sweet Pea,” Ari said. “Plus I don’t think you wanted to ride with Rob now did you?” 

“No,” you answered as you shook your head. “He scares me.” 

“He scares you?” Ari repeated, barely shocked. 

“Mhm,” you confirmed with a small hum. “He’s really big and mean. Everyone says he’s the nicest to me and if that’s true I don’t want to see him when he’s mad.” 

“It’s true, he’s the nicest to you.” Ari found it weird when Robert wouldn’t constantly yell at you like he did with other people but he can see why. You’re the sweetest thing ever.

“Is that all?” 

“Mr. Pronge used to bring women and–and they would come out screaming and crying. It frightened me.” 

Robert used to bring women over all the time. They wouldn’t last for too long. They would run out of the house screaming all kinds of profanities after 3 weeks. You’ll never forget the moment a woman came to your house and asked if you had anything sharp. You gave her one of the knives from the kitchen. 5 minutes later the word asshole was embedded on the side of his car in big, bold letters. 

You’ll also never forget the time another woman came to your trailer. She screamed while she banged on the door like a madman. When you opened the door she had red hand prints on her body and a barely carved ‘R’ on her exposed hip. She asked you to hide her because he was coming. Sure enough a minute later Mr. Pronge came, demanding you to show him where she was hiding. Luckily your brother was there to kick him out.

He could see why you were scared. Hell even that scared him a couple of times. For some reason Ari didn’t like the thought of you being scared. Hell, he could barely deal with the fact how uncomfortable Mr. Pronge made you. 

When you approached the building Ari parked the car and exited out, lightly jogging over to your side and opening your door for you. He held out his hand to you to help you out of the truck, your hand delicately gripped his and he could feel the rush of dopamine releasing in his body. 

“Thank you again Mr. Levinson!” you beamed with a bright smile. You raised yourself on your tippy toes and slightly bounced to place a thank you kiss on his cheek. 

An unexplainable warmth rushed through him. The action was short and sweet but it made him feel weak in the knees. He would get cheek kisses from women quite a lot but it never felt like this. 

“Anytime Sweet Pea.” He felt himself staring at your eyes for a little bit too long. He forced himself to look anywhere else for a brief second, making sure you didn’t grow uncomfortable. “What time do you want me to pick you up?” 

“Oh it’s okay Mr. Levinson, I can take the bus or have my brother pick me up.” 

“Are you sure?” he asked you again. 

You nodded your head. “Thank you again! You’re a lifesaver.” 

“Don’t even mention it,” he waves off. 

You muttered a small goodbye to Mr. Levinson before taking off into the diner. He watched you go in with a small smile on his face.

 Even though this was your first real interaction, he knew he wasn’t going to get enough of you. You were the most adorable thing he’s ever seen. The whole way back he thought of you. You were like a deadly plague in his mind. A beautiful, rose scented, warm plague. 

Luckily your brother was able to pick you up after he got off of work. The next bus was going to come within another hour. When your brother picked you up, he was agitated. 

“What happened to your tire?” your older brother asked, not amused at all.

“I don’t know.” You shrugged your shoulders. “I went outside this morning and it had a flat.” 

“I helped Mr. Levinson changed the tire, it had 4 nails,” he said in a matter of fact one. “4.” he repeated as he held four fingers in the air. 

“I’m sorry,” you weakly apologized. 

“You need to pay more attention where you’re driving.”  

“I didn’t mean to drive over the nails. There weren’t even any when I drove yesterday!” you protested. “I only drove to the library which is 2 minutes away.” 

“So they magically appeared?” he sarcastically asked. “Just pay attention please.” 

“I will.” 

“You left your bus pass on the table this morning. How did you get to work? ” he questioned you. “Mr. Pronge didn’t take you, did he?” He turned to glance at you with a worried look. 

“No, Mr. Levinson did,” you told your brother.

“Did you make it on time?” He quickly glanced at you again, “because you are horrible at giving directions.” 

“Hey!” you barked at him. “I am not horrible at giving directions.” 

“Yes you are.” 

“Well lucky for me I didn’t even have to tell him, he already knew where to go,” you responded, “sure did save me the hassle.” 

“Did you thank him?” 

“Of course I did, I’m not rude,” you responded, half hurt he would think that of you. 

The rest of the ride was short but your brother took the remaining 4 minute drive to lecture you once again to pay attention. You tried to zone him out but he would snap at you, telling you to listen. You knew he did it to annoy you, it was simply too easy to annoy you. 

When you arrived at home, you jumped out of the car to look at the tire. Sure you had no idea what you were even looking at but it never hurt. You bent down to look at it and you noticed one thing. It wasn’t patched up like before. It was brand new. 

“Are you coming in?” your brother asked you. 

You turned to look at him. “Yeah, I just have to do something really quick.” 

“Don’t take too long, I’ll be done cooking in 10 minutes.” 

“I promise,” you told him before he went inside. 

You took out a sticky note, a pen and 50 dollars that took you 4 days to earn. You used the hood of your car as a desk and wrote a sweet but short thank you on the sticky note. Afterwards you walked over to his house and placed it under the surprisingly alive flower pot he had on his front porch. 

The both of you didn’t see each other for almost 2 days. You got overwhelmed with work that you barely were in the house. It wasn’t until Ari caught you late at the laundromat. 

“Sweet Pea?”

You turned around at the sound of your name. “Oh hi Mr. Levinson,” you greeted him with a huge smile. 

“What are you doing here so late?” he asked you though he could barely pay any attention to you at the moment. You wore a thin pastel pink cardigan with a pearly white nightgown that had a bow at the valley of your breasts.

“I forgot to do my laundry this morning and I didn’t have time so I came here after work,” you told him. 

“Isn’t it a little late to be working?” he questioned you. 

“I’ve been picking up other shifts at work,” you said, “it doesn’t help having the extra money.” 

“Speaking of money,” he began to say as he took out the fifty you gave him from his front pocket of his flannel, “you left this on my porch.” 

“Yeah it’s for you,” you innocently said, “I noticed the tire is brand new and I’m 90% sure my brother forgot to pay you.” 

“It’s your money, I’m not taking it. Here.” He passed the money back to you but you refused. 

“Keep it, you changed my tire and I’m paying you for your service.” 

“I really can’t—” 

“Please,” you begged him with puppy eyes. 

You pulled at his heartstrings. It agonized him, he didn’t want to take your money but he also didn’t want to make you sad. But he kept it anyway and stuffed it back into the front pocket of his flannel. 

“What are you doing here so late?” you asked him as you bent down and took out your now dry clothes. 

His eyes peered down for a quick second and he saw the nightgown riding up, revealing your baby blue panties. His throat went dry and he fought hard to keep his gaze up but it found itself looking back down. 

“I–I realized I forgot to wash my work clothes.” 

“I hate when that happens.” You came back up after you pulled out the last piece of clothing. “Then I’m stuck getting yelled at by the manager when I come in with the wrong clothes.” 

Ari chuckled to avoid an awkward silence. Really it was to refrain himself from stuttering or making a fool out of himself. In his head he wanted to compliment you and how pretty your nightgown was but the words wouldn’t leave the tip of his tongue. 

He took a deep breath before he spoke. “You look pretty in your nightgown,” he quickly muttered out. 

Your eyes lit up at his compliment. “Thank you Mr. Levinson. It’s pretty but I don’t think I’ll keep it.” 

“Why’s that?” 

“It always rides up and by morning it’s all the way up here,” you pointed to your upper stomach.

Oh what he would give to be a fly in the room in the morning. He quickly changed the conversation, it was obvious you were too oblivious to what you were doing to him. Your sweet voice and innocence were driving him insane but he loved it, he secretly wanted more. 

The both of you left the laundromat 40 minutes later. He insisted on carrying your basket for you. You both walked side by side. You were busy trying to keep up with him while he was busy looking down at your breasts. 

“Thank you for carrying my basket Mr. Levinson,” you thanked him as you took your basket from him when you got to your front porch.

“Anytime Sweet Pea.”

You kissed his cheek once again to seal your thank you. “Sweet dreams Mr. Levinson.”

“Sweet dreams honey,” he repeated to you. 

Ari was in a rush to get back to his trailer but a dear beloved friend was waiting for him. 

“Well would you look at that?” Robert sarcastically asked him. “She gave you a kiss on the cheek.” 

“Not now Robert,” Ari pleaded, dying to get back into his place. 

“What’s the big rush to get back home?” Robert crossed his arms as he smirked, “I see you’re sporting a hard on. Surely it can’t be because of her. Right?” 

“Oh shut your trap.” 

“It is, isn't it?!” he gawked. 

“No it’s not!” Ari protested. 

“Oh really?” Robert Challenged as he squinted his eyes.

“I was about to get lucky with Kim before she came into the laundromat and interrupted us,” Ari quickly lied. 

“So you waited for her to be done then walked her back?” Robert questioned Ari. 

“Of course I did,” he scoffed, “otherwise she would’ve ran into you. Not to mention she’s terrified of you, fuckin’ creep.” 

“Whatever. She wants me, I know it,” Robert boasted. 

“Yeah in jail.” 

Robert rolled his eyes and walked back to his trailer while Ari walked back into his. He immediately locked the door behind him and dropped the basket on the floor. 

“Oh thank god,” Ari hissed as he unzipped his painfully tight pants. 

His cock was rock hard and had been for the past 20 minutes. The pants barely gave him any friction and if anything, made it worse. He palmed himself through his boxers and moaned in relief. 

All he can think about is you in the short nightgown and how he’s never been this hard before. Sure he’s been turned on but it was nothing compared to this. It was like he was a horny spazzy teenager all over again. 

He freed his cock from his boxers and sharply inhaled at the impact of the cold air. The tip of his cock was bright red and oozing with precum. He used his thumb to spread his precum and use it as lube.  

His eyes screwed shut in bliss when he began pumping up and down. He tried to think of the porn he watched three days ago but instead you kept popping up. He imagined you being here with him, helping him out. 

“Does that hurt?” you ask him as you point to his angry, leaking cock. 

“It does Sweet Pea,” he rasped out. 

“Was it because of me?” you innocently ask him as you bat your lashes. 

“Yes,” he admits. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” you apologize to him. “Let me help you,” you tell him as you take his cock into your tiny, warm hand. 

“Oh Sweet Pea,” he moans out. 

“You’re s-so bi-big,” you sputter out, slowly pumping him up and down. “Does that feel better?”

He doesn’t have the strength to talk so instead he nods eagerly. “G-Go a little bit faster.”

You obey him and start pumping faster. His moans fill the room as he gets lost in the pleasure you’re giving him. Your hand is cramping but you don’t care, anything to make him feel good. 

“Sweet Pea, I-I’m about to cum,” he warns you. 

You get down on your knees while you still pump him. “Let it all go,” you seductively say as you open your mouth. 

Ari was brought back to reality when his high overtook him and he orgasmed. It was so intense his thighs started to shake. He continued pumping and pumping until he got too sensitive he had to stop.

He stood there with his cum dripping down his hand and secretly wishing you were there to help clean it all up. The realization had hit him hard, he needed you.

#ari levinson imagine #ari levinson #ari levinson angst #ari levinson fanfic #ari levinson fanfiction #ari levinson fic #ari levinson fluff #ari levinson x fem!reader #ari levinson x female reader #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x y/n #ari levinson x you #ari levinson x innocent!reader #ari levinson one shot #ari levinson au #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans characters #chris evans angst #chris evans blurb #chris evans character #chris evans drabble #chris evans fan fic #chris evans fan fiction #chris evans fandom #ari levinson smut

[grimesthinker]

Hey, I LOVE your writings 😍

I was wondering if we could get another stepdad, Rick?

the reader's mom married Rick ( I'm picturing it in Alexandria)

Rick and The reader have had little moments like him brushing past her so he could touch her

and one day she gets a boyfriend and Rick does everything to make them break up and it doesn't work so one day he has enough and he just fucks her!

STEPDAD!RICK x FEM!READER ౨ৎ ♡₊˚⊹

you like him, you really do. well, you tell yourself you do. because you should. he's perfect, right? he's safe and he's cute and he's actually your age. problem is, the guy can't fuck for shit. your sweet boyfriend, who can't please a woman to save his life. you tried, a couple times, but he fumbles with your bra strap and struggles to find the right pace to rub your clit. thing is, you don't even care as much as you should. every time you're around him, your mind floods with thoughts and daydreams of your step father, rick, who fell in love with your mother months ago. it's fucking antagonizing, walking past him every day, feeling his calloused hands on your waist for a split second just so he could move past you.

unbeknownst to you, rick can't stand your little boyfriend. he watches him with a deep scowl as he stands on your porch, waiting for you to come outside in your skimpy skirt and tank top. that boy is so entitled, rick thinks. walking around with his head held high because he has the hottest piece of ass in alexandria. it's not right, goddamnit. you belong to him, not that asshole. he purposely touches you any chance he gets, imagining what it'd be like if he moved his hands just a little lower, just enough to play with that sweet cunt.

one hot july day, your mother thinks it'll be a great idea to host a barbecue. you oblige, of course. the community was doing well and you were grateful for it. you invite your boyfriend, only subconsciously wishing it might make your taut stepfather jealous. brat. you coat your lips in sparkly strawberry lip gloss and put on a sweet dress that leaves little to the imagination. people begin to arrive and your mother welcomes them with a smile. you make sure to be the first one to greet your boyfriend, and you also make sure that rick is watching when you kiss him with way more heat than usual.

the barbecue is going good, everyone's happy. everyone's content. except you and rick, of course. you sip your lemonade and he sips his beer, eyeing you from across the backyard. no one else cares to notice the excruciating tension between you two. eventually, you excuse yourself from some insignificant conversation and head into the house, up to the bathroom. you shut the door behind you, not bothering to lock it. you're washing your hands when rick barges in, glaring at you with darkened blue eyes. "what the hell was that?"

you turn the water off. "rick-"

"-bet you didn't know he was down there, braggin' to his buddies about how good he fucks you. about how fuckin' tight you are?" he shuts the door behind him, locks it. god, he's close now.

feeling brave, you cross your arms and taunt him some more. "yeah? what's it matter to you? jealous or somethin?" yeah. you're feeling brave, alright. deep down, you're pissed that your dumb 'boyfriend' is lying to his friends about how good he gives it to you. but with the way rick is looking at you right now, like he wants to rip that tiny dress off and bend you over the sink, you didn't even care.

in a swift motion, you're pinned to the marble counter, rick's fingers digging into your waist. he chuckles lowly, making you immediately drop the big and bad act. your heart pounds, cunt aching for something, anything. he pries your legs apart, gripping your thighs.

"he gives it to you good, huh? then why are you acting like a bitch in heat?"

you shudder at his words, making a soft whimpering sound, fighting the urge to roll your hips and beg him for anything he'll give to you. he peels your panties down your thighs, swiping a thumb over your clit. "ah- look at that." he coos.

minutes later, his cock is buried deep in your pussy, making you feel better than you ever could have imagined. he's anything but gentle, as if he's reading your mind. "fuckin' slut." he grunts. "feels so good, huh, baby? yeah, i know. take it, honey."

#the walking dead #rick grimes #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes smut #rick grimes ⛥*:･ #andrew lincoln #rick grimes imagine

[xfancyuu]

~ now i draw a luxury nxde. [aemond targaryen] 18+ SMUT

because it's the beginning of spring i wanted to post for that so in universe it is also warm and flowers are blooming! reader is afab with she/her pronouns & my requests are open! this could be read as though it's in the same universe as my other bolton!reader works, though she's married to aemond and is referred to as lady targaryen. there are no appearance indicators in this fic, this is kinda canon divergence. also i didn't bold the dialogue for this one and i actually think i'm gonna go and reformat my other fics to match! this fic is also known as frolicking and fucking so yeah that's what you're in for. smut will be indicated with a different coloured line break if you do not wish to read it. [1,757 words]

this fic contains: wall sex, public sex, dressed sex, choking, spitting, voyeurism, name-calling, corruption kink, attempted dirty talk? y'all are just newly married and experimenting tbh, y'all degrade each other, slight orgasm denial, cumming inside. if i missed any please lmk!

You had never imagined life as a married woman to be so blissful. You had heard from the ladies in court that they simply did their marital duty and did not enjoy spending time with their husbands. They had told you that the bliss would wear off within the year once you had children, and they would steal your beauty.

You had all but rolled your eyes at their commentary. They were rude and bitter, seeking your own mood to be as equally unhappy as their own. They nitpicked at everything you did, from reading too much to what you ate and how you conducted yourself. Loneliness truly was more appealing than spending ceaseless amounts of time with women who were your mother's age and almost as bitter. Being surrounded with unmarried women was improper, they had told you — not that you paid them mind, as your ladies in waiting were all unmarried and far better company.

You found yourself in the gardens with your ladies-in-waiting more often than not, the weather was pleasant, and you'd much rather be outside than wallow inside without much joy. Flowers had brought you much more joy than you had anticipated, they livened your mood from the dreaded time spent with the married ladies in court. They wouldn't be seen outside without reason, whereas you did not care much for the opinions and thoughts of others in court, despite being a Princess.

The book within your lap had become much more interesting than whatever your ladies were gossiping about, you hadn't cared much for the people they were talking about, but the adventure of Lady Sunderland and her times in the Reach were too addictive to put down. Your ladies' had tried to gain your attention one too many times, but you were too engrossed in the book to care for the outside world.

The book was abruptly taken from your hands, making you both lose the page you were ready and had caused your brain to be hazy. You were both mad and irritated by the actions of someone clearly trying to ruin your day. "Do you mind?" You had asked, not expecting to see your husband as you looked up.

"Is it a crime for me to want to spend time with my wife?" Aemond had asked you, extending his hand as if expecting you to take it despite disturbing your peace.

"It's a crime when you snatch my book off of me and expect me to be happy about it." You retorted, deciding it was probably better to go along with him, and took his help to get off the grass. "Lucky for you, I like you enough not to lock you up."

"Oh how merciful." Aemond responded, not removing your hand from his grasp, "the flowers are blooming, you should be looking at the world instead of living in your books."

"I'll have you know I can do both equally," You retorted, leading Aemond away from the prying eyes and sharp ears of your ladies, "Now you're here you might as well keep me company if you won't let me read, perhaps a walk around the garden would do us both some good."

"I have a better idea than touring the gardens," Aemond had pulled you into a secluded pathway leading away from the hustle and bustle of everybody else.

"Your ideas always end up with us in trouble." You weren't entirely wrong, the disapproving look of Queen Alicent would be forever engrained in your brain.

"They may be troublesome, but you always have fun." You couldn't disagree, instead you simply followed Aemond to whichever location he wanted to show you.

Aemond had abruptly left you in the morning, leaving you needy and begging for him to finish the job he'd started yet he had left you without a thought for your own well-being. You could somewhat blame your crankiness and willingness to do such a deviant act in public with the possibility of anybody seeing and reporting such acts to the Queen.

The thought that you shouldn't be doing this had crossed your mind — the words would not leave your mouth though, you had wanted to do this, neediness had seeped in, with your skirts and underclothes raised above your waist, your modesty was damned and so were you.

The carnal need and desire you felt within yourself had put all your thoughts out the window, if you were in your usual mind frame you would have told Aemond no, that it was improper but words would not form in your throat. Instead, you kissed him back with almost as much longing.

The insatiability you had felt was consuming you, yet it felt more so annoying, Aemond hadn't truly done anything to you to make you feel this way, little touches and long stares did not warrant you feeling so flustered by the man so much you'd let him take you any which way he wanted.

You were expecting the current position you were in — being in public had never been a boundary you crossed with each other, yet he had so little patience when it had come to you, not even checking if the garden was secluded enough not to have prying eyes follow you, "Who knew my lady wife could be such a whore?" Aemond had whispered in your ear, though you could not form words of your own, "Wanting me to take her right now with not a care in the world who witnesses it."

"I think you can only get your cock up with the thought of an audience, you leave me so frustrated when we're alone in our chamber."

"You may come to regret that, wife." Aemond had always had to get the last word, "Your tongue may be sharp, but I will fuck you until you can't form another sentence." He'd begun unlacing his trousers, and you truly knew you were in for it — whatever it entailed, you weren't sure.

"You keep saying what you're going to do, but you haven't even stuck it in yet, tell me husband, are you struggling? Do you need me to help you stick it in? Can you not find the hole?" You couldn't finish your light-hearted taunting Aemond had entered you with little care, it was sloppy and lustful as though he felt as much need as you did.

You couldn't stay quiet, not with how intoxicating Aemond had felt inside, thrusting himself as far as he could inside of you, the slow pace was comfortable but irritating, you wanted it fast and hard, you wanted Aemond to show you the side of himself he hid away, the side which would make you blush if you so much as thought about it.

You were so used to being in control, Aemond had ensured you always felt comfortable and could stop at any moment but seeing him so dominant had made you tingle, then gasp as you felt a hand around your throat. "You've got to be quiet, you don't want the world to hear you, do you? Don't want the world to hear what a whore you become for cock."

The sight of your ladies seeing you in such a position had the opposite effect than what you thought it would, the idea of corrupting them as much as you had been corrupted had you clenching around Aemond's cock.

"Not so fast, princess," Aemond spoke, his pace slowing and causing the momentum and build-up to your own orgasm to be depleted. "Good girls get to cum, you've not been a good girl, have you?"

You couldn't respond, the hand wrapped around your throat had become tighter, "Going to cum inside you, princess, have you got a problem with that?" You had tried to shake your head, but with the grip Aemond had on your throat, your head hadn't moved an inch.

Aemond had increased his speed, and you knew he was close to his own peak despite ruining your own, the pettiness within you had decided if you didn't get your release neither was Aemond. As if sensing your plans, Aemond thrust into you harder, keeping you in place as though you were a doll he could do what he pleased. "You're going to take my seed, and you're going to thank me for it."

Your orgasm was too sudden for you to realise what was happening, from the words Aemond spoke to the way he was fucking you, it was far too much to process and your body reacted entirely by itself. You knew disobeying Aemond would have consequences but in the depth of your own pleasure and Aemond continuing to fuck you, you didn't care. You'd take any punishment to feel a moment of the pleasure you were currently feeling.

"Naughty girl." Aemond whispered in your ear as you came down from your high, "I thought you'd finally be a good girl, though I suppose I set my standards too high for you. Open your mouth."

You did as he commanded, not wanting to make him more upset with you. However, you weren't prepared for him to spit in your mouth — or to like it as much as you did. "You belong to me and you do as I say."

It hadn't taken long for Aemond to spill his seed within you, his grip on your throat loosening and his teeth biting into your skin. It wasn't often you had allowed him to cum inside you — the prospect of what would follow being in the forefront of your mind. "I'm yours." You reassured Aemond as he came down from his climax.

"Are you okay there?" You had asked, not used to such an intense reaction from Aemond, "I really enjoyed myself." You reassured him, you were so close and the euphoria of the situation had you cradling Aemond within your arms.

"It was just a bit... much, I didn't hurt you, did I?" He asked, pulling out of you. At that moment, you knew you'd need to bathe. The feeling of his seed coming out of you had you almost recoiling.

"Trust me, you'd know if you were hurting me." You didn't want to approach the subject of being witnessed in such an act. "Your mother may be expecting more grandchildren soon."

"Moontea exists, my dear." You hadn't been married a year yet, it wasn't entirely suspicious that you had not shown signs of being pregnant. "And for what it's worth, I enjoy our time just being the two of us."

as always, thank you for reading this! i really appreciate it. i really enjoy writing for aemond so if y'all have any requests send them my way. my next hotd fic will be for helaena so if that interests you just message me! crossposted on ao3 under the name hedonism!

#aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd aemond #hotd x reader #hotd imagine #asoiaf x reader #asoiaf imagine #aemond smut #aemond targaryen smut #aemond x y/n #i just had fun writing this if you couldnt tell #basically i watched the tudors and yeah #i think this is the filthiest thing i've wrote

[runningfrom2am]

cold nights // part fourteen

summary: you showed him colours he knows he can't see with anyone else.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 3.1k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, r is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n: finally reunited ahh!! (also a note from me while i'm trying to find pics for the header: damn this dude does not look happy very often huh) (okay so update we're settling for a flashback photo bc coryo in his curls era does not SMILE bruh)

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // playlist

"Just right here." Lucy Gray stops on the gravel road, nodding up to the house in front of them.

"Okay, sweet." Sejanus smiles, already heading for the front porch but she grabs his arm, stopping him as Coryo just stares at the house, going slightly pale.

"Sejanus, how about you and I go figure out where you guys will stay, and come back for Coriolanus in a bit?" She offers, nodding toward him.

"Oh- uh, yes. Yeah. Good idea." He agrees, picking up quickly on what she meant. Coryo still hasn't said a word, just staring at the run-down shack that apparently was your home. It was clear that efforts were made to maintain the home, the fence had been patched in several places and there were flower beds outside. From what he knew about your family, that would make sense.

"Coriolanus?" Lucy Gray draws his attention again. "We're going to go find you a place to stay, and we'll come back for you in a bit. Does that sound okay?"

"Yeah that's... that's perfect. Thank you." He nods, in a trance-like state as he makes his way up to the door through some only slightly overgrown grass, before he has the chance to second-guess himself.

"He didn't even listen, did he?" Lucy Gray says, both of them watching him from the street.

"Not at all, no."

He can hear the two of them chatting as they disappear back down the road, and he looks for a doorbell that doesn't seem to be there, just settling for a knock instead. He waits a few moments after knocking on the wood, about to do it again when he hears a woman's voice come from inside. "One moment, I'll be right there!"

"I got it, Ma!" Comes from right behind the door as footsteps approach and it's swung open, a young boy standing there. "Hi." He says, eyeing Coryo up and down. It must be your brother.

"Uh, hi." He clears his throat. "Is Y/N here?"

"No, not right now." The boy answers. "Can I take a message for her?"

"Oh, well, my name is Coriolanus Snow, and-"

"Hold on! I'm coming!" The woman's voice comes again, much more excited as she rounds the corner from the hall, brushing her hands off on her apron. "You're Coriolanus?" She asks, a polite but delighted grin on her face as she gets closer.

"Yes, Ma'am." He nods in confirmation, a smile growing on his face. You look so much like your mother.

"Oh my goodness, come in, please! I didn't recognize you!" She gently moves her son out of the way, who is still staring at him with something unwelcoming behind his eyes. As soon as Coryo steps into the home, she's wrapping her arms around him in a hug. "Wow, it is so lovely to meet you! You came a very long way!"

"I did." He chuckles, hugging her back with as much politeness as he can muster behind shaking hands and a pale face.

"Come sit, Y/N will be home within the hour. She'll be just thrilled to see you." She pulls away, gesturing for him to follow her into the living area. "Are you hungry? You must be starving. Let me grab you something."  Your mother says, mostly to herself as he sits down on the couch.

"That would be great, thank you." He smiles, still nervous as he tries to adjust his posture on the slightly uncomfortable sofa, looking around. In reality, he hadn't been "starving" for some time now. It felt good to have a consistently filled fridge all the time, but he has hardly eaten since they left the Capitol. He was too nervous to even think about it.

"Why did you come here?" Your brother asks, making Coryo look away from the family photos that adorned the walls. Most of the frames were broken, photos blurry, but he could tell that to your family that didn't matter.

"I hadn't heard from her. I wanted to make sure she was doing okay." Coryo answers, stiffened by your brother's somewhat hostile energy and the thought of getting to see you so soon. Had you told him something you didn't tell your mother? Probably that he killed that boy, but it seemed unlike you to leave out the part where he had no choice. Unless Tigris was wrong.

Unless you still didn't see it that way.

Your brother hums, sitting in the chair across from the couch and leaning his elbows on his knees. To Coryo, this felt like an interrogation. Coming from a teenager, it was almost cute.

"Lennox, Honey, can you come help me for just a moment?" His mother calls him from the kitchen and he's shooting up again, glaring at Coryo as he walks away. He was confused, today alone he's gotten so many mixed signals on your feelings.

You stuck out the day at work, even though while you were reshelving returns you had to rush to the bathroom in the back to vomit after reading the back cover of an old book about a man who hunted humans. You were hoping by now this would happen less and less, but leaving the house had only made it worse. Getting a job was a mistake and you knew that, but your family was hardly scraping by before you were torn from your life- but neither of your parents could work the whole time you were gone. They were sick about it. Your mom still couldn't work, and you knew your father rarely ever slept these days.

You tried to hand over the winnings Coryo's Dean had given you as soon as you got home, holding it out to your parents with trembling hands as they opened the locked door for you. They wanted none of it. Not a dollar from your three thousand, which you had spent time counting and recounting on the train. They only wanted you home. You had hoped it would give you something else to talk about- that you could smile and be proud that you won and that now your family could live comfortably, at least for a little while. The idea almost made it worth it. As you counted your prize under the dim lighting in the train car, you had wondered if you would do it again for them. The money didn't make saying hello again any easier, though, and you cried for what must have been hours on the porch of your family home, the four of you tangled together in a hug bound together by tears.

It was hard to let go, but when they had, finally, your mother shoved the money back into your pocket and told you to save it. One day, you could buy your own home with it, and that wasn't a bad idea.

All you could do for them now that your money sat in a jar in your closet, the best you could do, was convince them you were fine enough for you all to move on and forget about it. The additional income of getting your own job helped, too. So, when your boss tried to send you home, you declined, and five o'clock couldn't have come fast enough.

You drink water out of an old jam jar on the way home, washing the taste of bile out of the back of your mouth. The fresh air made a world of difference. As much as you adored the smell of books, it got stuffy in there, especially in the summers. Even with the sun beating down on your shoulders over your button-up shirt, you felt better just making the walk home every day. The breeze blowing through the trees, the familiar paths beneath your feet, it was one of the very few things that could ground you in the reality that now, you were safe. That, and the meadow behind your house at night time. Reading under lantern light with the stars overhead and your family at your side, you never felt more real. It was truly over.

That's what you would do tonight, you decided, after a long nap following an unfortunate day. At the end of every unfortunate day, you still had that, and that meant the world to you.

"Oh! Here's Tybalt." Your mom smiles, now comfortable on the couch next to Coriolanus as the cat saunters into the living room, jumping up into the space between them. "This is Y/N's cat, she calls him Tybs." She explains, tears forming in her eyes as the cat crawls onto her lap and she quickly blinks them away, but he had already noticed by then.

"She told me about him." Coryo says, placing his now empty tea cup on the coffee table in front of them.

"Of course..." She chuckles sadly. "He took real good care of us while she was away. On particularly... hard nights," She clears her throat. "He would come out into the living room with her father and I and sit with us, he can purr like no ones business, you know, and then after a while, he would run over to our room there and meow at us. Made sure we got to bed. Then curl up with us and just made sure we knew that.... she was still with us."

A tear falls as she speaks and she laughs nervously, quickly brushing it away. "Gosh, I am so sorry..." She quickly dismisses it. "We have company and I'm crying like a little girl. Forgive me..."

"No, it's quite alright." Coryo insists, shaking his head. Of course, he was worried about you in the arena and every night up until then, but he never entertained the idea of what it was like for your family even though he knew about them. That under the same sky, they were sitting here in this very home praying that you might return. Now, he could see it, and you were the lucky one who made it home. He hoped he wouldn't have to see Jessup's family while he was here. "It must have been awful for you."

"Indeed." She nods, wiping her cheek again. "But, you know, it means so much to us that she had someone there to look after her." She smiles at him. It's genuine. Sad, but full of gratitude. He would no longer wonder where you got that habit from. "I decided I wouldn't be watching anything, but her father insisted. He was out at a bar in town, the only one with televisions, then came rushing back in the door twenty minutes later and dragged us back there with him to watch. I didn't want to go but he said 'No, you need to see this. She's not alone. She has a friend.' So down we went, and they were playing reruns of the two of you being dropped into that cage. I just... She looked so comfortable with you. The way you looked at her we could see you cared, that she was human to you, and that you were there to help. I remember thinking for the first time that maybe she had a chance." She's accepted her tears now, reaching over from petting Tybalt to grasp the young man's hands in her own as she spoke.

Your brother scoffs as Coryo lets her hold onto his hands, a small smile forming on his face that's quickly torn away by Lennox's reaction. "Yeah, and then that other boy had to be the one to bring her something to eat after days."

"Hey!" Your mother gasps. "Lennox, get-" She prompts him to leave if he isn't going to be nice.

He rolls his eyes, getting up to leave.

"I didn't have anything to bring her besides a flower." Coryo finds himself stating, shocking even himself at the confession which halts your brother in his steps. He had never told anyone about the poverty he faced at home, but with them, he felt safe to. Something about knowing you assured him that they were not judgemental people. He clears his throat before explaining. "My family lost everything after the war. When I first met her, I also hadn't eaten in days. I gave her everything I could."

Lennox hums before leaving, either not convinced or embarrassed that he'd even made such a comment. Coryo couldn't tell.

"Coriolanus... I am so sorry." Your mother is quick to apologize, and he's embarrassed by the look of pity in her eyes. Pity from a woman who had, for almost a month, believed she had lost her child, and was still struggling with it today. He felt nothing but guilt.

"Well, I must tell you, your daughter saved us from that." He tries to lift her spirits as a confused expression paints itself into her features, but he doesn't get the chance to elaborate as they both turn at the sound of the front door opening.

"Ma!" You call out, closing the door behind you and kicking off your shoes, preparing your smile to tell her about the absolutely great day you just had.

Your mother stands quickly, patting the boys thigh gently and wipes her eyes. "Hi, Honey, how was your day?" She asks, smiling at him through red eyes.

"Come what come may, time and the hour runs through the roughest day." Your groaned response comes slightly muffled from the other room, and Coryo can hear you shuffling about.

"Oh, no. What happened?" Immediately your mother's tone shifts to worry, and Coryo wonders how it took her less than a second to understand.

"Nothing, Ma. All is fine." You call back, putting your bag down in the kitchen, and heading for the living room, gluing a smile back on. "Guess what I saw on the walk home! A ladybug, it landed right on my-" You freeze as you walk into the entryway, seeing your mother and your previous mentor just standing up next to her.

"Oh, I should have mentioned, we have company." Your mother smiles, already gathering the used dishes from the coffee table, and brushing past you to bring them into the kitchen. Likely, to give you two a chance to talk.

When Coryo lays his eyes on you for the first time again, he can swear his heart stops. Yours definitely does as nausea comes over you in a wave again, and your calculated smile drops.

You don't say anything, just staring with an expression unreadable to him. "Y/N, hi." He breathes, smiling at you. You look beautiful but tired, still. Still, that girl he watched in the arena, it was hard to believe that every part of you made it out. You weren't the same girl he saw for the first time in the reaping- you were more. More of you, and more of something else; hurt, if he had to guess.

"It's good to see you." He continues, his voice a gentle whisper that cuts through the awkward tension in the room. Your heart races, emotions swirling like a tempest within you. Coriolanus Snow, your mentor and friend who had guided you through your time in that Capitol and the games, is standing in your living room, looking both apologetic and hopeful.

"Coryo," You manage to say, voice barely above a whisper as you swallow the sickness rising in your throat. The memories flood back- everything awful you had gone through. Meeting him for the first time as he handed you a flower, sitting on opposite sides of the bars of your cage and talking long into the nights. Everything you had done, everything he had given you, the people you both hurt in the process. He takes a step closer, cautiously navigating the fragile space between you.

"I... What are you doing here?" You ask quietly, your eyes unable to meet his gaze. The room feels smaller, the walls closing in on you quickly.

He clears his throat, a nervous habit you remember well. "I wanted to see you," he says, his eyes pleading for understanding. "I didn't know what you were up to and how you were adjusting and... I was worried about you."

The weight of unspoken words lingers between you, and for a moment, neither of you knows how to bridge the gap that only a month of time has built. You had been away from him longer than you had known him, and facing him again, you were embarrassed. Scared. Coryo takes a deep breath, summoning the courage to express the weight of what he's carried in his mind for too long.

"I never stopped thinking about you," He confesses, sincerity etched across his face. "I tried sending letters but I didn't get any response."

The vulnerability in his eyes mirrors your own, and the air crackles with a shared sense of everything you want to say but just can't find the words. You can't help it as you feel over and over again the countless hours spent together in the lead-up to the worst days of your life.

Tentatively, he reaches for your hand, a silent plea for connection. As your fingers take his, warmth floods through you, dissolving the distance. "I missed you," he admits, his voice barely audible.

A rush of conflicting emotions surges within you- that same embarrassment, anger, hurt, but also a flicker of the fondness that never truly faded. "I missed you too," You admit, your voice breaking through the emotional dam, built up from fear and trauma and the stacks of books in your bedroom that held it back all this time.

With those words, the barriers crumble, and the room is filled with a pitiful silence. The weight of what you had both done begins to lift, replaced with the realization that he did honestly care for you, the way you did for him. As you look into each other's eyes, the connection is undeniable, evidence of a bond that time could never change. You would always be connected to him.

"Do you remember when I brought you that blanket?" He asks and you take in a sharp breath. The few pleasant memories you had of your time together were so often overthrown by the awful ones, these days. His eyes flicker quickly across your face. He looks as scared as you feel. "And I said I wish I could get to know you as you are, not as a tribute, and you said you would show me the stars."

A small smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you nod, the nausea you felt steadily subsiding. "So you walk softly and look sweetly and say nothing. I am yours for the walk and especially when I walk away."

Coryo tilts his head at you, and smiles. That must have been a yes. "Please, don't walk away again." He whispers, and in that moment, he feels the tightness in his chest that carried him through the last month finally release.

taglist: @soulessjourney , @that-veela-girl ,  @dreamyysouls, @rockstarbfs , @maysileeewrites , @baybieruth , @kitscutie ,  @fratboyharrysgf0201 , @totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @drewsandsebastianswife , @niicole-87 , @queenofshinigamis , @innercreationflower , @nallasstuff , @scorpiolystoned , @iovemoonyy , @thatmarvelchick19 , @wearemadeofstardust0 , @regulusblackcore , @puredreamagination , @fantasticchaosthing , @becauseseaotters , @secretsicanthideanymore

okay suddenly tumblr isn't letting me tag more people than this so i just made some cuts unfortunately :') i just left the max amount of people i could whose users i recognized and see in my notifs all the time :) if you're not on here and you should be i'm so sorry!

also this taglist is closed now!! if you’d like to get a notification when i update, turn on my post notifications!! i promise i won’t spam y'all :,)

#tbosas #tbosas fic #tbosas x reader #tbosas fanfiction #thg series #hunger games #the hunger games #thg fanfiction #thg #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus fanfiction #coryo snow #coryo x reader #coryo x you #snow lands on top

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

VULTURES (XVI)

|| COV MASTERLIST || NEXT: CHAPTER XVII ||

PAIRING: Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick x F!Reader

WORDCOUNT: 3.5k

WARNINGS: Blood, wounds, angst, guns, plot progression, etc.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

Laswell found you after you’d finished your most recent fit of sickness, sitting in your room fiddling over the laptop with the USB password screen mocking you. Try as you might, you’d give yourself even more of a headache than you already had just by attempting to force the answer to appear through the pixels. Your father’s journal was kept in your lap—open to the dim light of the dying sun outside. 

It had been three days since the base had gotten attacked. Three calls with Gaz, where both of you were hiding things from the other all the while the pounding in your chests grew at the unique phonics of each other's speech. Three days of nothing but dust and echoes. 

The journal's spine crinkles as you slap it shut, growling under your breath like a dog as you push back the fatigued look behind your eyes. Your mother’s injury was better—the wound wasn’t bad—and even now your thigh is aching less than it was before; healing more and more by the day. 

But, here—now. 

You first see the woman as she enters the door after two swift knocks, not waiting for an answer before walking in with a call of her last name on her serious lips. Blinking in shock, your head perks up and you pause, taken aback. Besides Alex and your mother, no one else had bothered to visit you here. 

“What are you doing?” You ask, raising a brow stiffly. A sliver of tension seeps in, but you put a modicum of trust onto Kate’s title. At least while you’re under her oversight. 

Laswell sighs, closing the door behind her. She doesn’t respond right away, and the bags under her eyes are visible enough to a point where your lips thin. Without anything more than a huff, you wordlessly motion to the other chair at your table. 

Kate glances, but it isn’t a second later that she’s resting back across from you and offering a firm, yet somehow honest, ‘Thank you.’ 

“Don’t mention it,” you mutter under your breath, attention on the laptop screen but focus elsewhere. Fingers hover the keys—motionless beyond a small twitch. At least on your part, a small awkwardness filters past your expression. “So,” you utter in a low manner, drawing the word. 

The woman nods her head your way. “Any headway with the USB?”

“Working on it,” you state slowly. “With only one try left, you can’t not be too cautious.” 

“Ideas?” Is the next question. 

“Handful,” your voice responds, your eyes over the screen and settling on Laswell’s nose as you blink. “...Anything from Gaz?”

There’s a moment where you believe that Kate might be better left as a comedian than what she is. “Handful.” 

With a half-amused snort, you grapple with the fact that she’ll tell you nothing more than what you already know. The seconds draw longer, and those eyes of hers never leave until your feet are shifting under the table slowly. It’s during that break-away that your growing conscious comes out to play like a thief in the night. You weren’t so much the woman you were when this all started, the volatile and violent beast that stalked a forgotten home, but you’d always be a sliver of that. Yet, the leash around your neck was more firm. 

You open your mouth and only hesitate for a second. 

“I should apologize.” Laswell’s eyelids lightly pull back, a flash of surprise running over her face as the whispers of her pale hair brush her forehead. She says nothing, and you trail on with unsteady feet. “What I told you in the beginning—when we first met—about your wife. It was uncalled for.” 

A start, maybe, but any other words get choked out just as quickly as you’d thought them up. Your eyes slip around the laptop screen, fingers tapping the keys in unsteady intervals in the bare understanding of your nervousness. Gaz was so much better at this—at words. If he were here he would serve a better example; he’d know everything you were trying to say but couldn’t. 

That was just how he was.

Kate stares for a second, speechless. But the older woman isn’t one to stay in a stupor for long. 

“Accepted,” she says, blinking. “I don’t hold it against you, being taken in and told what you were on such short notice. It’s a common reaction.” 

“Good.” Your tongue darts out, licking your lips. It’s all you say, of course. Kate would never gain your full trust, the trauma was too deep, but you didn’t have to destroy yourself in the process of trying to understand. People do what they feel is right, and every pair of eyes is different. 

While you lean back into your chair with a sigh, your hand moves down to thumb over your journal—one that you were sure the woman had no idea was truly your father’s, though Laswell was too smart to say she one-hundred percent didn’t. Kate, in turn, glances over your tiny little table to look at your scribbled notes on a piece of napkin, and your stack of empty coffee cups, the plain white paper left in a neat tower of three to four cylinders. There are round stains in the woodgrain of the table, and blue eyes shift back to you. 

You don’t see it, but they soften at the edges. 

“Does it help?” She asks you, tilting her head. “The coffee? I’ve read studies.”

Your body seizes up, and your eyes dart to lock with Laswell’s in a moment of genuine panic. It’s only after a very long and tense break in sound that you find it appropriate to call yourself dumb. 

Of course she knew. She knew the entire time.

Your hand sneaks down into your pocket, and you fiddle with your coin until the indent is left printed into your skin as you bore down on it. 

“It lets me concentrate,” you breathe, vision slipping away as you clear your throat, skin tingling. “Keeps me alert.” 

It was a small victory when she didn’t push it further beyond her reply of a small nod. 

“But I’m here for more than a chat,” Kate gets to business with her hands going to interlock on the desk. “There wasn’t any recoverable footage of your mother’s attack. The footage was wiped, just like with Samson’s death.”

“I’m getting really tired of this, y’know?” The anger is swift, even as your shock mixes with it. “If I hit one more dead end, I’m going to lose my mind, Laswell. One after the other, after the other—what is going on?” Your words are slow and even, tone grating. 

Kate watches you. “And there won’t be any footage of this conversation, either. I’ve asked Alex to erase it after we’re done here.”

You straighten, head snapping back. “...What the hell?”

The woman motions with a hand. “There’s too much at stake to be reckless. I’m not taking any chances.” She blinks, face growing serious again; eyes like steel. “Spitfire, the only people who you can rely on are myself and Alex. Anyone outside of that is a possible breach of security. From now on, Keller is taking you on as his charge full-time and I’m telling him to place all of his resources into your protection.”

Not all of that is new—but the one person being left out of this is telling. 

“What about my mom?” Your flesh tightens, confusion leaking inside of your chest. “Alex is her guard, Gaz is mine.”

“Kyle isn’t here anymore, and he’s not going to be coming back anytime soon,” Kate relays, leaning closer as you grimace. “Your mother is getting moved to a larger base across the state where there are more trusted eyes to watch her.”

You have to snort at that, grabbing the top of your laptop and shutting it firmly. “What? Why?” 

Blue eyes only watch you silently. 

“Laswell,” your voice grows more stern. “Why?”

“Why was there a gun in your nightstand?” 

Face heating, your lips pull into a line. “I’m not playing word games with you.” With such stubborn and headstrong women in the same room, there was never going to be an impactful conversation. “I’m angry,” you grunt. “I’m tired, and I’m not going to be carted around anymore. I want answers.”

“I don’t have the answers you need, Spitfire,” Kate eases. “But I’m not going to let you die.”

“That’s the least of my worries,” you utter under your breath. 

The blonde is the epitome of a brick wall, yet there are moments when something nearer to guilt takes you by surprise. But at the mention of Gaz afterwards, your attention is taken back from where you play with your coin to a near-embarrassing degree. 

“He was adamant on staying,” Laswell began. “Kyle. It was unlike him—he was always willing to do what he had to in order to complete the job; if he felt he needed to leave, I trusted him.” You stare without a visible emotion on your face. “I didn’t expect him to try and take back his word. The Sergeant never does that.”

Perhaps there was really something wrong with you because the heat that infects your face is something of a mystery to your senses. You don’t answer Kate as her eyes narrow on you. 

“If it’s the time for apologies, then I think I need to offer my own,” your body flinches, fingers in your pocket jerking as the lamp across the room flickers. Laswell sighs again, and you find it’s something she does often. “I’m sorry I dragged you into your father’s faults. I’m not a mother, but to think if I was and my own child was put into that position is…troubling. I didn’t get into this job to intentionally leave others traumatized. If you need to blame anyone, then you can blame me for everything that happened to you: during and after.”

Your mind at this point is immune to mostly everything—gunshots and weapons to your head; blood and gore and pain. Then why did the softer things make your heart constrict like a vice? Staring at the woman’s nose, your legs shift with a strange unease before your hand goes to rub at your arm as you mutter. 

“Okay.” Your hair nearly stands on end, but Kate moves a hand to show you she’s not done.

“Just listen, you don’t have to speak.” Shoulders shrugging, you settle back, eyes slipping to the journal as you grasp at it and tap at the cover. 

“I had you under surveillance ever since your father was killed.” The blonde moves to push her hair back and glances at the door. You hum—not surprised. “I know what you went through during the first year, and I want to tell you that—”

“I appreciate it,” you interrupt, and you stand and grab your items in one motion. Laptop and journal in hand, your lips tighten as you hold back the snappy barks you want to let loose like an animal. The sentiment was enough, you didn’t need to hear the woman talk all about it right now. There were more important things than your shortcomings. 

Coughing, you hide your mouth in your arm and blink away the weakness of your legs; spine hunching lightly as the sounds of violent hacking echo. Kate stands quickly, moving forward with a sheen of concern; you step back, swallowing down bile. 

Seconds later, you stand fully and wipe at a thick stream of fluid dripping from the side of your mouth. Looking at your hand, you find the red streak of blood less of a shock than it should have been, but nonetheless startling. You blink at it rapidly, a droplet slipping down your chin. 

“Spitfire,” Kate swiftly, face going grim. 

“No,” your word is so final it makes even yourself pause. 

Without another line written to your story, you move to the door and slip out with a soft limp, still coughing with every grated breath coming through your throat. The woman is left behind you as your legs bring you down the dark hall—items all carried precariously in one hand before the shakiness makes you hold them with both. 

You rub your mouth over the fabric of your shirt located on your shoulder, closing your eyes for a moment as your head goes light. Grunting in the back of your mouth, you taste blood before you swallow it all down, sagging into the wall as your back makes the stiff connection right when you turn the corner. 

“What the…” you lightly knock your skull back, eyelids moving as your pulse flies. Shaking your head, you stubbornly shove off and walk on, patting at your pocket trying to find your phone—you needed to call Gaz soon. 

Exiting the back of the building, the chilled night pushed in around you; your jacket giving you some protection as you extend your walk to nowhere and end up a small distance away near an outdoor metal table and chairs. There was no one else in this portion of the base anymore, besides Alex, Laswell, yourself, and your mother; it had been entirely vacated until an entire breakdown of the events prior could be processed. New soldiers were being cycled in and out on a daily basis, though they stayed far away. 

Your eyes looked upward every time you saw a new C-17 touch the skyline, dipping lower. A piece of you hoped everyone was carrying your Sergeant. 

The conversations you both had were more open by the day—perhaps being away from one another had allowed you the area to be free of possible embarrassment up-front. You shared stories more as well; in fact, it might have been your favorite part of the day when you could hear Gaz speak to you. No matter what time you called, he always answered.  

Dropping down into the chair, you cough once more, growling when you can feel the fluid slipping down the back of your throat. Your fingers flinch for a good sip of coffee, but there’s work to do, and you don’t want to go back inside right now. It was your own imagination, but there had to have been the sleek shadow of a black cat in the corner of your vision as you turned back on the laptop, moving open the journal with the same cracking spine. 

You frown, bending the thing as the noise grows before you put it on the table as well. 

Hands coming up, you rest your chin on them and glare when the password icon pops back up. Your head struggles to focus above the lack of your guard, the conversation with Laswell, and the nagging knowledge of something in the back of your mind. Something, something, something.

What were you missing—why was all of this stopping before it began? 

No footage? What was up with that? This was a damn military base; there was always surveillance going on. 

Who?

Who?

Who?

Your mother had been attacked—injured. A man had been shot under the bounds of an interrogation room seconds before spilling the truth.

“I’m missing something,” you hiss, scoffing to yourself as you grind out ragged words. “It’s something obvious; I have to know what it is. Why can’t I understand it?” 

It was like reading a story in a foreign language while knowing the base plotline. All of the elements were there, but the words were dots and dashes. 

With everything happening, college was all but forgotten—you hadn’t done any work, no projects, or even looked at your emails. Your degree was all but forgotten by now. Dust. 

“Goodbye future,” you grunt, sarcastic even now. 

Moving back from the laptop, you grab the journal again and flip through a few more pages, a chilled breeze going across the semi-open area. The answer was here—you knew that at the very least. Your father was a smart man; he’d leave you something to help you.

Hopefully.

The spine cracks again, and your eyes spark with annoyance as you flip the thing to the side. 

“Jesus,” you growl. “I know you’re old, but c’mon. Spare me the breaking bones unless you’re going to give me the password.” Out of half of an addled brain, you turn the journal and look down the open top of the threaded spine, peering between the gap of the material of the cover and the mesh of the pages. It wasn’t done with any intent or curiosity—it was a spur-of-the-moment reaction, and yet, that was what always led to some sort of revelation. 

Yet, you couldn’t have fathomed to see something stuffed down the back of that journal. Your father’s journal. The man who pleaded for your life with such fever before a bullet had caved his skull in; the man who worked and provided a life for you despite his hidden actions. 

The man you see haunting you every time you close your eyes.  

As your blood-stained lips part in utter shock, you grasp the spine and pull it back from the binds, hearing the faint pop of glue as if it were far away from your ears and not right in front of you. With something akin to shell shock in your eyes, you pull out a folded piece of paper as slowly as a newborn dear taking its first steps. 

When you slip the thing open, it’s not the picture that you first look at—it’s your father's handwriting of the ripped letter dated exactly three days before he died. Your eyes slip the torn edges, the pen script that was ingrained into your understanding of who your father was. 

It started as it always did. With you.

‘...I think I had some influence over her, and I’m a bit afraid of wondering if she actually enjoys the topic of history, or if it’s just because I do. I worry, I think, about that and her education. I want her to be happy—more than anything I want her to enjoy the future that I’ve tried to keep safe for her. 

Even if it all comes to a head, I’m afraid she’ll suffer for the things that have taken place, and that isn’t something I can forgive myself for. I tried so hard to get out of it, and I already knew none of it worked. 

But…I suppose that’s my cross, isn’t it? 

My daughter was never involved, and in that, there’s a small part of me that can say I did a good job, even if it’s as simple as that. If her future lies in History, in that museum, or in something so wild and fantastic I can’t even imagine it, I’m just proud to get to call her my own. There are worse things than saying that your child is a steel-headed girl. She’s going to do great things; be great at whatever she decides. 

I hope I get to make it to her graduation. I think that would make it all worth it.’

The exact date and year of your graduation are printed below the sentence, printed out until your tears smack the page, ink around it smearing a bit. Your broken breath is reduced to quivered inhalations, a certain kind of heartbreak in your chest that extends down your legs and up your arms; breeding in the very back of your brain until a sob is echoing over the darkened earth. But there isn’t time to cry—to address the agony spreading in your blood. 

‘With everything I’ve done, there isn’t a chance that if I die I’ll see her again. I just hope that she finds someone who can be the opposite of what I and her mother have been. Someone to make her laugh and smile. Hell, to feel giddy about. I want to see that from her—one of those smiles that I used to get when I first met my wife; innocent things.

She needs someone kind and smart. I’d approve of nothing less. But above all, they need to be loyal.’

The picture in your hands falls to the ground before you can catch it, sweaty fingers jerking as you read the last line in a flurry of emotions, not understanding the gravity of them.

‘Everything her mother isn’t.’

It shows your mother, your dad, and a male stranger in front of the mansion. All were dressed nicely, and a smile was on your mom’s face. Your father, who, for the first time you can remember since the abduction, looked…grim. The stranger as well, though his square face was devoid of any blood to be seen. 

Terrified.

Your tears smack the image sharply, quickly, free hand moving to grasp at your coin and twiddle the thing out in the light, slipping it between your fingers in practiced ease. It helps you focus when the coffee isn't able to. A reminder. A caution. 

Think.

You stare into the stranger's face, and something about the eyes of him is wrong to you; familiar in a way that makes you want to run. Your father’s hands are clenched. Your mother’s face is sharp. 

Flipping the image over, there are three names. 

Your father's.

Your mother’s.

And Samson Row’s

The moment the name registered, there was a small click from behind you. 

A chilled barrel is pressed into the back of your skull, and into the night the shot ricochets across the airwaves like an executioner's bell.

TAGS:

@merkitty49, @mh073099, @littlegaypng, @babybooday, @underrated-youngster, @jupiterredolent, @idocarealot, @petrat97, @jade-jax, @roosterr, @escapefromrealitysm, @kysa32, @human-turtle, @aurora-basin, @terumisworld, @xxfeelmylovexx, @neelehksttr, @nezukos-number1fan, @20forty9, @homicidal-slvt, @emerald-valkyrie, @raissadoesthingslmao, @misfne, @hollyhopesworld, @wasteland-babe, @330bpm-whiplash, @anna-banana27, @sunnynomoar, @doggydale, @thecrispypotatochip @74478328, @blueoorchid, @das-conk-creet-baybee, @chestnutsandcurls, @vamqyr3, @lavalleon, @nebula67, @urfavsunkissedleo

#cod #cod x reader #cod x you #call of duty #cod mw22 #x female reader #mw2 #call of duty x you #mw2 2022 #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty x reader #gaz call of duty #gaz #gaz mw2 #gaz cod #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader #gaz garrick #cod gaz #kyle gaz garrick x you #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle garrick x reader #kyle garrick #kyle garrick x you #cod gaz x reader #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod modern warfare

[multific]

At First Sight

Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Requested by @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl

Summary: Aemond was angry when he heard of the news of his betrothal. He didn't want to marry, especially not someone he assumed to be a spoiled princess who only wanted his name. 

Aemond was absolutely furious. 

His mother would let him marry a princess who isn't even a Targaryen. 

Unheard of!

She must have gone insane!

"It is for the best. Her family has a great reputation and it will ensure a good future for you and for our family." Alicent argued. 

But Aemond didn't want to hear any of it. He was furious.

Every breakable object in his room was now completely destroyed.

No one dared to enter his room. 

He picked up another vase and threw it against the wall. The water in it and the flowers flying everywhere.

"A pureblood prince like me, marrying some Princess from a land... disgusting! How can Mother think this is a good idea?!" there was a knock on his door. "Who is it?!" he yelled, but as his mother came into his room, Aemond sank back into his chair.

"Aemond, throwing a tantrum will not change my or your father's mind. As I have explained, this marriage is important to the family. And it is final."

said Alicent before she left the room. Two servers arrived to clean the room while the Prince headed outside for some fresh air. 

---

Aemond knew you were in the castle.

His bride arrived and he refused to go meet her. 

Like a stubborn child he sat in his room. His mother had to make up an excuse about him wanting it to be a surprise to meet with his bride.

Aemond was still fuming. He couldn't be reasoned with. He knew his duties and he knew he should have expected this to happen, yet he was still extremely against this arranged marriage.

Knowing that tomorrow he would be married to this stranger, to this woman he didn't even want to see... it disgusted him.

You on the other hand were excited.

You heard many great things about House Targaryen, and you were thrilled to be handed to such a prince.

You were sad that upon your arrival, Prince Aemond wasn't present, but his brother was, and he was handsome enough. 

Of course, initially, when your mother informed you of this marriage, you weren't so happy, but you also knew your duties.

And tomorrow, you will be married to Prince Aemond.

---

The next day started off rather hectic. You were washed and dressed for what seemed like hours.

But the servants talked.

They always talked.

And you heard many things about Prince Aegon, and Prince Aemond. Their description of the family wasn't even close to how people saw the family outside the castle.

According to them, Aegon was nothing but a drunk who enjoyed women way too much. To the point where a young servant had to leave the castle. And Aemond was a cold person with only one eye. Aparently both princes were jealous of the other. Aegon wished for his mother's love as much as Aemond wished for the crown. 

As you heard the girls talk, you smirked, because of course they weren't as perfect as they made it out to be! Of course, Queen Alicient played her part.

You weren't sure what a family with Dragons would want from yours though. 

The only thing your Kingdom had were great soldiers, but surely dragons were better.

Your thought was cut short when your dress was finally on. You looked at yourself as one girl put the veil over your face.

"You look lovely Princess!" all of them said and you smiled and thanked them.

---

Aemond stood proud as he awaited his bride.

His anger was still not gone, but he managed to calm himself a little bit.

After his mother introduced him to the King and Queen, Aemond was ready to get this day over with.

Soon, his Princess was standing next to him as you both made your vows.

Aemond now moved to remove your veil and as he lifted it, his eye locked with yours. You had a smile on your face.

The first thought that ran through his head was how absolutely beautiful you were. Your bright smile seems to have filled the room.

He leaned down and placed a quick kiss on the corner of your lips before you were officially pronounced wife and husband.

Aemond's mind was filled with you. Your face, hair, dress, how soft your skin was, how amazing your lips felt against his, as he ran his finger over his lips, he could swear he still felt it.

And just how beautiful your eyes were, he nearly got lost in them for too long.

---

The entire Kingdom celebrated.

Aemond rolled his eyes at his brother who was already drunk. 

Aemond looked around the people, his mother speaking with yours but speaking of who. 

Where were you?

Did you already run away with another man?

No, you weren't the kind. 

Aemond decided to get some fresh air and he headed to the gardens where he knew it would be quiet. 

And to his surprise, after turning a corner, he found you.

Sitting on a bench in your nice dress.

Aemond had to be honest, you were absolutely stunning. 

But then, as you looked up, you noticed him.

"Oh, My Prince. I apologise for disappearing. I am, unfortunately, not a big fan of crowds and loud noises." you stood up as he watched you bow your head.

"I, myself, also came to get some peace and quiet." he admitted as he walked closer to you. "Please, sit down if you wish." and you did, while offering a small smile to him.

"I'm rather nervous, My Prince."

"Why?" Aemond sat down next to you on the stone bench.

"Oh, it's... I found you very charming and handsome." Aemond could see the slight embarrassment on your face.

"I also found you quite beautiful." Aemond surprised himself with his confession. But he didn't regret it.

Because as soon as he saw your eyes light up due to his compliment, a certain warmth filled him.

You smiled and looked away from him, slightly turning in your embarrassment. 

"You are too kind, Prince Aemond." the way you said his name, sent a shiver down his back. It made him feel so powerful yet so weak. He felt like he could fight a thousand battles and win. But he also felt like if you asked him so sweetly to do something, he would do it without hesitation. "I can only imagine how disappointing it is for a Prince of your status to marry someone like me."

"Why would you say that?" he asked rather confused but you still refused to look at him, he could see you playing with your fingers.

"All my family has is... a great coast and good soldiers. I'm no special like a Targaryen Princess. So, I would apologise for the disappointment." 

The words you spoke were the same he thought before he saw you.

Before his eye met yours. 

"I assumed, yesterday you didn't come to meet me and my family was due to your eyepatch, I thought you must have felt like I would be scared. I promise I'm not scared. I have seen worse injuries. But then I realized when the servants were talking that you might feel angry for having to marry me." Aemond stayed quiet but only for a moment as he didn't want to raise your insecurities further.

"I am not one to lie. I was rather angry when my mother told me the news. But then I saw you today, and now believe that I don't deserve an angel like you. You look so pure and kind, while I'm... the exact opposite."

"I don't know you enough to say no to that, I'm afraid. But my mother raised me to become a good wife for someone one day. And now that I'm your wife, I wish to show you love and care. I don't desire a cold marriage." you whispered the last part and it made Aemond grab your shoulder softly and turn you towards him.

Aemond was admittedly lost for words. All he could do was look into your eyes and with a simple kiss to your lips he promised to try his best to become the husband you deserve.

Taglist: @fleursirvart @greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster @capsiclesdoll @puknow @alwayshave-faith @alex12948 @lxdyred  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl​ @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @praline357 @trshngyn @avengers-r-us @violet-19999 @top1bbgloak   @manduse​   @jacalineiscomingforyou  

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, PLAGIARISE, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS  

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aemond targaryen x female reader #aemond targaryen x pregnant reader #House of the dragon imagine #House of the dragon #House of the dragon imagines #House of the dragon story #House of the dragon x reader #game of thrones #game of thrones au #game of thrones imagines #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones x reader

[thought--bubble]

All of your senses

Ettore X (Riding Ettore Reader)

Warnings under the cut

Word Count: 2082

Ettore Masterlist

Full Masterlist

Banners & Dividers by @arcielee

Based on THIS request

Warnings:: Ettore, Dubcon, smut (PinV unprotected). Male whimpering because I wanted it, and I can! Hehehe

Therapy! Ettore scoffs at the thought. As if therapy could ever help him. As far as he understood himself, he didn't need therapy.

Therapy is something to help a person sort through their emotions. Ettore simply doesn't have any. He does not feel things in his head or his heart. The only feelings he recognizes are physical.

You can't hurt his feelings, but you can break his nose. You can't send his heart a flutter, but you can get him off.

In order to be cleared for that damn space mission in which he would be made part of a co-ed population of inmates, he had to go through therapy and nothing was going to stop him from getting on that ship and once again having access to women.

So, with full fledged irritation and annoyance, he drudged his way down to the prison shrink. A guard flanked him on either side.

He thinks it's a bit dramatic. Yes, he can be violent, but it's actually pretty rare. Only when it serves a purpose and beating down the person who could clear him would be counterproductive to his plans.

When you open the door and beckon him inside, he becomes painfully aware of why the guards are necessary. You're his preferred victim type. A young voluptuous woman, long silky hair, skin-tight pencil skirt, and button-up top. The only thing that can make him lose control.

Ettore walks into the room, the chains connecting his hands to his feet scraping across the floor.

"Hello, Ettore." Your voice makes a shiver run down his spine. He doesn't answer you. Instead, he steps closer and sniffs before one of the guards grabs him and pulls him back, shoving him into a cold metal chair before proceeding to strap his arms and legs down.

Once Ettore is securely fastened to the chair one of the guards turns to you with concern.

" We really should stay. This inmate can not be trusted...... around women"

You chuckle at this. " therapy doesn't work well with an audience. I trust that you have fully secured him?"

"Yes, but-" you stop him with wave of your hand.

"I have full faith that he will stay right where you put him. You can wait outside the room."

The guard mumbles under his breath as he motions for the other guard to follow him out into the hallway. He gives Ettore a final stern look before closing the door, leaving the two of you alone.

You sit down in a plush chair directly across from Ettore with his file in your hand. You had been reading everything the prison had on him for the last week in preparation for this evaluation, and you had a pretty good idea of how he ticked.

"So Ettore. How are you feeling today?" You knew this approach most likely wouldn't work with Ettore. Making him comfortable didn't matter. He wouldn't open up to you just because of some pleasantries. He doesn't know how to open up, and if he did. He still wouldn't.

Ettore stares back at you blankly, his eyes endlessly scrolling the length of your form, yet never looking into your eyes.

It's carnal, the ache he feels inside at the sight of your soft skin. His fingers twitching around the arm of the chair. He wants to touch you. He needs to touch you.

"Why don't we start with your childhood. Your file says your mother died when you were young and you were left with your father, who may have had a bit of a drinking problem." If your words were affecting Ettore, you would never know by looking at him.

His eyes continued to ravish you from your neck to your knees. His heart pounding in his ears. What he needs is right there in front of him, yet just out of reach. He once again fights subtly against his restraints. The inability to move suffocating and controlling his every thought.

"Losing your mother so young, coupled with the nature of your crimes. It's my belief that you are in need of a gentle touch." Ettore finally lifts his eyes to meet yours, and you smile back at him.

Touch? His favorite word. Not care, support, or love, as all the other therapists have deamed. No. You used the word touch, the simple phrase having the desired effect.

You stand from your chair and step toward him slowly, his eyes darting down to your legs watching each step.

"Something ....... soft. " You walk up to the side of Ettore's chair and gently graze his cheek with your finger. You can see his arms and wrists fighting against his restraints, and you chuckle.

Ettore's eyes darken at the sound. How lucky you are that he is strapped down to this chair. If he were not, chuckles would not be the sound to come from that pretty little throat.

"Oh, no need to worry." You lean down and bring your mouth right up next to his ear and whisper, "I'll be gentle."

"I won't be." He growls in response, his patience waning. This challenge to his dominance is not something he likes or is willing to accept.

From this angle, you couldn't see his face only the back of his neck where the hairs stood on end, his breathing controlled and heavy.

"You will." You coo in his ear.

You place your hands on the back of the chair, one over each of his shoulders, and bring your mouth close to the nape of his neck. Just gently breathing, letting him feel the ghost of a touch across his skin.

"I'll teach you"

You enjoy watching his response. The tightening of his shoulders the flex in his bicep as he pulls and pulls against his restraints with no hope of getting loose.

"You need some tenderness. That's all. " You walk back around to the front of his chair, Ettore looks up at you, rage clearly written across his face.

A caged animal. Face to face with his prey and unable to act upon his most primal desires.

You hike your pencil skirt up to your mid thighs, and Ettore's eyes instantly drop. The look of anger quickly replaced with hunger, his arms again pulling against his restraints.

"Tsk tsk." You gently rub at his wrists. "Stop that silly boy, you're going to hurt yourself."

His eyes flit about your body wildly, and you smile before placing yourself in his lap, your legs straddling either side of his hips.

Automatically, Ettore thrusts his hips up toward you. "No," you gently scold and hold him down by the hips. "Gentle"

Ettore closes his eyes and breathes deep. A predatory grumble rattling in his chest.

"Now, sweet boy." You bring your cheek up to his, the stubble on his face a little coarse against your skin and the tightness in his jaw apparent.

"Relax," You roll your hips against him slowly, his thin prison pants giving away his excitement.

Ettore again desperately pulls against his restraints. You can't have the power here. He can't let you have the power here.

"Stop," you say, voice firm. You bring your hand up to his chin and gently message it with your thumb. You gently tug on his bottom lip before leaning in and placing a soft kiss against his lips. He doesn't reciprocate. The feeling so foreign, so strange.

"Doesn't that feel nice, sweet boy?"You move your hands so that you are cradling his strong jaw. Holding his face so he has no choice but to look at you.

"Just what the doctor ordered, hmm?" You bring your lips down to him again. Slowly pushing your tongue into his mouth. Not aggressive, not passionate.

You move your tongue in his mouth, and you feel him start to kiss back, aggressively at first, but you keep your pace steady and soft.

You bring your hands to the back of his head, tugging briefly on the hair there. You control his movement this way. Too aggressive, you tug him back.

You roll your hips against him again, falling into a steady rhythm.

With his head pulled back and his neck craned completely powerless as you grind yourself against him, he whimpers.

"What was that sweet boy?" You grind yourself harder against his erection and he whimpers louder.

"Tell me" you demand as you again increase the speed and pressure of your movements.

"Please." He finally croaks out, followed by another whimper. "God please"

"Oh, poor thing." You keep his head pulled back and lick a stripe up his neck. "Am I teasing you?"

Ettore groans, and you slightly lift yourself from his lap.

"I don't want to drive you mad." You release his hair, and he looks at you, panic in his eyes.

"No, wait," Ettore tries to reach for you but is trapped by those damn restraints.

"Oh. Don't worry, sweet boy. " You grab his cheeks and squeeze them briefly. "We aren't done"

You reach beneath you and shimmy his pants down just enough to free his cock. His mouth opens slightly at the feeling his eyes glazing over.

"Slow and gentle." You nuzzle your nose to him as he holds his breath.

He looks so desperate. So pathetic. It's so satisfying.

You press the head of his cock to your entrance and sink down just enough so the tip breeches your walls and nothing else.

Ettore instinctually bucks his hips once before you again grab him and hold him in place.

"Tsk tsk," you scold him as you hold him down and slide up and down over just the tip of his throbbing cock.

His body starts shaking so harshly that it's nearly convulsing. It takes your full strength to hold him in place, his hips desperate to move.

"Fuck fuck fuck" He whimpers loudly. "I need it. More. Fuck more!"

"More?" You sink down just a smidge further and watch as Ettore's head lulled, and his eyes started to roll back.

"Ahh!" He clenches his jaw and moves his hips subtly, getting himself just a tiny bit further.

You slide down further, now halfway down his shaft.

"Kiss me nice and gentle like I taught ya" He lifts his head and looks at you with confusion.

"Not moving another inch till ya do," Ettore quickly brings his face to yours. He tentatively kisses you with slown unsure movements.

As the kiss continues, you slide slowly down the rest of his shaft until your ass rests on his thighs and he moans into your mouth.

You smirk, you have an apex predator beneath you, whimpering, moaning, and begging for relief.

"See? So gentle you are. " You softly blow into his ear as you roll your hips slowly.

Ettore gasps at the sensation, his entire body vibrating. He's been in this prison for two years already, with no one but his hand to keep him company.

The pressure builds up in the base of his spine quickly, but he fights the urge to buck his hips, knowing you would stop if he did.

"You wanna cum sweet boy?" He nods a pained expression on his face.

You lean back in and kiss him again, this time with more urgency as you bring your fingers to your clit. The perfect mixture of his soft kisses, your nimble fingers, and his thick cock scraping against your walls bring you over the edge quickly.

As your cunt pulses around him you grip his hair again exposing his neck to you.

"Cum sweet boy. Right now, " He has no choice but to comply he bucks his hips twice and then spills himself inside of you, his mouth wide open and eyes closed.

You kiss him once more, but he is spent, mouth just hanging open lazily. You hop off of him and fix his pants as he smiles up at you, a smug look of satisfaction on his face.

You fix yourself and, without another word, to him open your office door telling the guards to take him back to his cell.

On his way out the door, he keeps his eyes on you, tripping over his shackles and being caught by a guard.

You pay him no mind and quickly close the door behind him and sit down at your desk.

You fill out the sheet you were given approving him for the mission, and of course, suggest a few more therapy sessions before he goes.

To be added to taglists please click Here

#ewan mitchell verse #ettore x reader #ettore high life #ettore smut #ettore #ettore imagine #ewan nation #ewan mitchell fanfic #ewanverse #ewan mitchell #jess fics #my red flag bf

[ronwestbreeze]

i love ur writing sm! don’t know if ur taking requests but if u are, i’d love to request something 💌 so let’s say neytiri was already bonded/mated w someone else, jake still had feelings for her, even though she doesn’t have any feelings for him besides respect and a platonic love. anyway jake being the ole’eyktan the na’vi are pushing him to get married/bonded to further the Omaticaya clan. anyways reader is like a warrior! like neytiri level but she’s always been indifferent toward jake, so she’s against the wedding but she’s the best candidate for it, came from a respected Omaticaya family, and just like their relationship and how they fall in love, you’d get extra brownie point in how much i love ur writing if u make jake fall in love first and have them confess their love for each other in a angsty way LMAO love u bff, love ur writing, excited for anything you write ! 🫶🏼

thick skull

pairing: jake sully x reader

warnings: none!

summary: in which you are forced into an engagement with omaticaya's clan leader.

word count: 3.0k

author's note: this took me a while, ahah, but here it is! i hope you like it. i tried my best to make it a little bit angsty. also to other followers, i took this request before i officially put up my navigation. so from here on i won't be taking any requests for now!

When you were first told of the arranged engagement, you were furious and went off hunting for hours until your father had called you back. It wasn’t like you didn’t want a mate, no, but having one thrusted upon you out of  nowhere just because the ole’eyktan needed to be bonded with someone quickly pissed you off. But unfortunately, you couldn’t disrespect your family by acting out, even if you wanted to shoot something, you had your duties, responsibilities. If you’d fail to do this, you’d bring shame upon the family.

And it really jabbed the knife even further when you first met Jake Sully, leader of Omaticaya, and saw that he had eyes for someone else who was already mated.

“He is pathetic!” You seethed to your father back at your tent. “Not only do you expect me to marry an outsider but skxawng who is after a mated female!”

“You will do this, y/n!” Your father shouted despite your mother’s attempts at calming the both of you. “I will not have a failure in this family all because you are too stubborn to listen!”

“Aaah!” You hissed, snatching up your bow. “He would be dead before we are even wed if you keep pushing this on me!”

“y/n, please.” Your mother spoke before your father could argue any further. “Leave us, my love. I will handle this.”

After sending you a stern scowl which you steadily didn’t back down from, he marched out of the tent, leaving you and your mother alone.

“I know how you feel, my daughter.” Your mother cooed, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “I too was in the same position as you.”

You huff, “then I pity you.”

Your mother smiled, “you do not have to like him, just do it for the good of the clan. The elders have chosen you and for that you should be honored. Blessed to be looked upon by Eywa that she has handed you a mate.”

“He is not my mate.” Every bit of you wanted to fight this. Storm the elders’ tent and make them choose another naïve woman to fulfill this deed. You were not naïve.

But you also weren’t dumb.

After another long look from your mother, you breathed out a strained sigh, “He loves another. He will reject me. What am I to do with that?”

There was a subtle look that passed over your mother, one that you couldn’t make much of as she spoke. “You will not be rejected. Trust the All Mother, my beautiful child. Trust her.”

Giving into your parents’ wishes was like giving up a piece of yourself in the process. And since this wasn’t the usual process of finding a mate, your wedding would be soon. And you hardly even met the man you were to call your husband.

He was always either busying himself with the tribe duties or purposefully avoiding you. Your mother dismissed the idea and said he would not disrespect the union like that, especially as the clan leader. You on the other hand withheld judgment, albeit not perfectly, you waited.

You would not go to him. He would come to you.

The day that had happened was during one of your hunts in the forest. You were launching most of your arrows into a small pond of fish. But just as you pulled back another arrow, there was a sudden sound behind you.

Fortunately you were fast.

You spun around and let the arrow go. It was a warning shot mostly and you completely expected it to miss the target just barely.

But what you didn’t expect was to see Jake Sully standing there, surprised by the arrow now in the tree next to his head.

You pulled back another arrow.

Jake held his hands up in surrender. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, I come in peace!”

“You should know better to sneak up on a na’vi woman.” Your grip tightened on the arrow. “A very angry one at that.”

He took a step back, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You didn’t scare me.” You hissed, reluctantly lowering your bow. “And find a different pond to hunt, this one’s taken.”

As you turned your back to him, Jake spoke, “Actually, I was looking for you.”

Now you were on guard. “Why?”

You watched him carefully as he slowly approached only to stop and kneel next to the pond, “Figured it would be better to meet my future mate now rather than wait until the wedding.”

He grabbed one of the arrowed fishes and took the arrow out of it. Still you watched him as you knelt down, further away from him. “You’ve met me. Once.”

Jake looked at you now, brows furrowed. “That doesn’t count.”

Now you frown, not in irritation but in confusion—and okay maybe a little bit of irritation—“What do you mean it does not count? That is when we met. When the union was first announced.”

“Yeah, but…” He sighed, placing the fish down next to him as he grabbed another arrowed one from the pond. “We didn’t have much of a conversation then…”

“I did not want to talk to you.” You say bluntly, snatching the arrowed fish from his hands. “And I don’t wish to now.”

Jake watched you, “You’re mad at me.”

“I am nothing to you.” You state simply.

He stood as you got into the pond to grab the rest of the dead fishes you shot. Just as you went for the last one, Jake snatched it up before you. You hiss. “Give that back!”

“What did I do?” He instead asked, keeping the fish away from you as you tried reaching for it. “Tell me what I did and I will give it back. Allow me to fix it.” You stare at him, warily and confused. “Please.”

“Why do you care?!” You snapped. “You don’t even want this union either, so why should I believe that you care?!”

Again, you try reaching for the fish. This time you get close only for him to grab the arm that nearly grabbed the fish, holding you in place.

“Because, believe it or not, I do care.” Jake frowned down at you, pinning you with his intense gaze. “I get it, neither of us likes this, but we’re going to have to work together at least, right? Be partners through this?” Finally he let your arm go, “We don’t have to like it or each other. But let’s just get it done, alright?”

Finally, he handed the fish back to you. Hesitantly, you took it.

“Deal?”

You watched him in a very calculated silence, holding the fish close to your chest as if he would reach over and take it again.

After a pause, you finally said through gritted teeth, “Fine, Jakesully. I agree to be the utmost loving wife you could possibly have.”

He winced and you turned your back to him.

Was this what awaited you in marriage? A bitter, cold, and distant union? This is what your mother, your father, and your people wanted? Did the All Mother herself want this?

If so, Eywa was wrong.

Jake didn’t mean for your relationship to start out like this. After the wedding the two of you hardly spoke in the beginning. Giving vague replies, barely having any conversations. This wasn’t what he had in mind at all.

You seemed better off, not entirely bothered by the distance between the two of you. Jake knew he had to fix it.

So on days where you least expected him to show up, such as your hunting days, he was there. At first you hated it and would always tell him off. But with great reluctance, as some days and weeks passed, you had grown used to his presence, as annoying as it was.

“Why do you follow me?” You ask one day, clutching your bow close to you. You were watching him with narrowed eyes. “Almost every day, I think you are busy with your duties as clan leader but then I turn and there you are. Why?”

Jake’s ears perked up as he knelt down to finish off your last hunt for the day. It had been twitching and whimpering still. He’d notice you often hesitated to finish the kill whenever you did catch a good hunt. There were days where he wished he could do it for you instead of watching your endless and silent torment before finally killing the animal.

You noticed his actions as well.

“We had a deal, remember?” Jake grinned before standing up. You frowned and his smile grew wider, “What, didn’t think I’d keep my word?”

All you did was give a quiet “hmph” before dragging the animal away back to your shared tent. A part of him hoped for a better reaction but then again he’d be a fool for not knowing any better.

It continued on like this, but it was an improvement! Now he got grunts out of you and longer responses. Sometimes he’d ask you questions about your family and how you learned to hunt. You, of course, were still wary of him for some reason. Like there was always something stopping you from opening up to him. Again, he really couldn’t blame her. They were strangers forced into a marriage, this type of stuff is bound to take some time.

No worries. Jake Sully liked to think of himself as a patient man.

Not.

But the day things began to really change was the day your mother had fallen ill. You were trying to stay strong, you accepted every condolence the tribe people offered you and remained the strong warrior that everyone knew you to be. But every night you were at your mother’s side, in tears, lost, and afraid that one day you would wake up one morning and your mother would be gone.

Your father had tried to force you to seek comfort from your husband but you’d ignore him and keep at your mother’s side whenever you could. But you noticed, even after rejecting your father’s request, Jake was there. All that time. He would be standing outside of your mother’s tent when you left late at night, waiting for you. You acknowledged him once and that was all you could give him at the time. But there was some inkling of you, hidden behind the protective armor, that was thankful for him. For just doing something as simple as being there.

One night, he wasn’t waiting for you. And at first, you felt this strange feeling of disappointment settle on your shoulders, adding to the exhaustion that has been weighing you down ever since your mother’s diagnosis. But you pushed it away and wandered off.

You did not go back to your tent right away. Instead you went to the Spirit Tree. For months you had been angry with Eywa, about the union, about your father, and now even about your mother’s illness. And yet here you were, turning to her one last time to ask for help.

What you didn’t expect was to find Jake there as well.

The bushes had alerted him of your presence. Jake turned and stood when he saw you, almost as if he were caught in the act of something scandalous.

“What are you doing here?” Eventually you ask.

Jake cleared his throat, “I-um-I came here for your mother…”

You had never been so shocked. “What?”

“I know you don’t want me getting involved, I just thought…” Jake sighed before looking up at the Spirit Tree with a long and thoughtful expression. “To be honest, I don’t even know if it’s going to work.”

Still, you were startled and now staring at him as if he were someone else. Another stranger. But this time…

“Why would you do that?” You shakily ask, willing the tears back.

Jake stared at you, brows furrowed until he smiled, “Believe it or not, I actually do care about you and your family, y/n.” He approached you but didn’t get too close. “I thought we knew each other enough by now that you’d notice…”

“I don’t know you, Jakesully.” You say quietly, stray tears falling past your cheek. “I thought I did. But I do not know now.”

He nodded, watching you carefully. “That’s okay.”

Slowly, you made your way toward him, the distance going from long to a hair between you. You did not want to cry. Every harsh word your father had uttered to you about your tears had crossed your mind. Usually, it would immediately make you stop and calm down, pushing it all away. But this time, it only became worse because the only reason you were able to push it away was because your mother had always allowed you to release it just for a moment.

All you wanted was to hide away. And you did. Resting your forehead against Jake’s shoulder, hoping your cries were quiet. It wasn’t until Jake tightly wrapped his arms around you did you finally let yourself cry.

And just like that, your walls were slowly beginning to come down.

It was against your will really. There was something about Jake, there had always been something about Jake, that made you want to try. That made you want to believe that this union could be more than where the two of you were at now.

Your mother had gotten better but it wasn’t without difficulties. Jake was there at your side the entire way and you let him. And you loved it. While your father had completely shut himself away from you, you had Jake now.

And soon, you were starting to begin to understand what your mother had meant.

There was a special celebration that the whole tribe had come together to celebrate. You were at Jake’s side, watching him be a chief for the first time. You were amazed at how well he had adjusted to his new role. Granted, he was still weak in some places, but that was where you always came in. A partnership. That’s what the two of you had for right now.

And maybe the potential for…

Neytiri and her mate were at the celebration. You hadn’t been the only one to spot them.

Only a fool wouldn’t notice just how much Jake was smitten with her. You watched as they locked eyes for a brief moment but your chest hurt so much all of a sudden, you had to turn your eyes away and focus on the rest of the celebration.

You had been the fool.

After the celebration you did not go back to your shared tent. Instead, you went to the trees and remained there until eventually your husband found you.

“Something happened.” He guessed as he appeared next to you in the tree. You tried your best not to throw him off as he sank down next to you. And he had the audacity to look worried for you. “y/n—”

“I do not want to talk to you.” You hiss, jumping down from the tree.

Jake came down seconds later, “You're upset and I’m worried. You didn’t even come back to the tent—”

“I do not want to talk.” You say again as you begin to walk away from him.

Of course, he followed.

“y/n, I know when you’re upset. Tell me what’s happened—”

You whirled around on him, “If you truly did know me as you so claim, then you would know exactly what it is that upsets me!” You jabbed a finger into his chest, “You’d know exactly why I can never allow myself…” No. No. Your voice wavered. No, you had to be stronger than this. You glared at him, angry that he would have this effect on you. “I will not allow myself to be hurt by you, Jakesully! I will not!”

His face fell, almost as if he were hurt by this. “Hurt you? W-Why would I hurt you?” You shook your head and tried backing away but he caught your arm. “y/n, just stop for a moment! Okay, I don’t want to hurt you!”

“Then why didn’t you just choose her?!” You shouted. If the words didn’t shock him, the shove from you certainly did but he was quick enough to catch himself. “The least you could have done was spared me all of this pain! But instead you want to torture me! Instead you want to make me fall for you only to break me in the end! At least allow me to suffer in peace!”

The look on his face was unreadable and all you wanted to do was be left alone at this point. Your father was wrong. Your mother was wrong. Eywa was wrong. Why did the All Mother wish this suffering upon you? Why did she wish you to endure all of this? What had you done to deserve this?

You hadn’t realized you were crying until Jake’s larger hands cupped your face and wiped the tears away. You hadn’t realized his lips were on yours until you responded back immediately, pulling him closer to you. It was pathetic really, how much you craved his taste just by the one time you’ve gotten a lick at it. It was pathetic really, how much you wanted more of it.

Jake pulled away slightly and whispered, “The last thing I ever want to do is hurt you or leave you to suffer…I don’t think I could live with myself if I allowed that to happen.” A small smirk appeared on his  lips. “And I thought I was the only one going crazy with all these feelings.”

Despite yourself, despite the euphoria, you whispered, “What about—”

“Hmm, looks like I’m not the only one with a thick skull around here.” Jake grinned, pressing another kiss to your lips. “I want you, y/n. There’s no one else…what I had for Neytiri has gone. I want to start this life with you and only you.”

It was like your body had a mind of its own at the moment as you wrapped your arms around him, just to have him closer to you. And he held you just as tight.

“Why didn’t you say anything before?” You whispered, so quietly that Jake barely heard you.

There was another kiss against the side of your face.

“I was just waiting for you to notice me.”

#jake sully x reader #avatar jake sully x reader #avatar jake sully #avatar jake #jake sully #avatar 2 #avatar x reader #avatar #avatar the way of water

[whatdoeseverybodywant]

All Falls Down - Chapter 8

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS

Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 

All OC Characters belong to me

Series Masterlist

taglist: @christinabae @southerngirl41 @reci1996 @jeyusos-girl @jeyusosgirl @melaninsugababy @baconeggndcheez @bemybabiibish @purplehairgawdess @jstarr86 @nbanenefrmdao @arination99 @alyyaanna @m3llowww @harmshake @empressdede @jeysbae @theninthwonder @badbitchcentralinc @raya-hunter01 @kawaiisadoglu @msbigredmachine @dietothemusic @2-muchsauce @tian-monique @leaderofthebadbitchbrigade @wrestlingprincess80  @saintaquarius @bebesobrielo @venusesworld @babysyhsyh

Kiyana sighed as she hung up the phone with Joe. He had called to see if she was okay after he said Josh seemed down and depressed at the arena. She had told him about Shanté coming to their house and he suggested for her to fly to California and told her he would help her and Josh with their relationship like he used to in highschool to which she laughed at and agreed to fly out to California. 

It seemed like a good idea to fly out and work on her issues with Josh face to face but that whole ordeal with that bitch the other day put a sour taste in her mouth about Josh. But Joe was right, they needed to actually work on their marriage instead of her ignoring Josh when he was home off of the road.  So she sent Joe a text telling him that she was on her way to the airport. 

Kiyana packed a bag for herself before calling her mother and asking if she could come watch the boys for a couple of days, which she happily agreed to. Kiyana had a weird feeling in her stomach, not a bad one just… she knew something was going to hit the fan. 

“Are you sure this is the right decision?” Her mom asked Kiyana who shrugged. 

“I honestly have no idea. I mean I don’t even want to fix our relationship but something in my gut is telling me to get on this flight to California.” Kiyana’s mom nodded and gave her daughter a tight hug before saying goodbye as Kiyana’s Uber drove away. 

The ride to the Chase Center was nerve-wracking. If Kiyana was being completely honest she wasn’t even sure why she was going to the arena. Josh had an affair.  And the woman who had an affair with, thought it would be a good idea to show up to her front door. Honestly Kiyana should’ve been at her divorce attorney’s first thing in the morning but she couldn’t work up the courage to actually do it. 

She sent Joe a text saying she was outside and he replied immediately saying he was on his way. She only had to wait outside by the security entrance before the door opened and Joe walked out. Her heart rate spiking as her eyes fell on him. Odd, she thought. 

“Damn KiKi .Who you tryna impress?” Kiyana rolled her eyes at Joe’s somewhat compliment and opened her arms up for a hug. She closed her eyes and melted into the hug and inhaled his scent. She bit her bottom lip and took another deep inhale of his scent before he pulled away from the hug.  Yup this was a bad idea.  She thought especially since she couldn’t stop thinking about him since the moment they shared in the club. 

Joe pulled out of the hug and smiled. “I’ll have my driver come get your bag.” She nodded as he pulled out his phone to text the driver, who showed up two minutes later to take her suitcase back to Joe’s travel bus.  “You ready to go inside?” She nodded and started to walk with him into the arena but stopped and grabbed his hand so he could stop walking too.  “What's wrong? Having second thoughts?” 

“What's your motive?” Joe his head back reared back as if she had slapped him. 

“Whatchu’ mean KiKi?” Kiyana sighed and shifted on her feet then looked around to make sure they were still alone. 

“I mean like a week ago, you know at the club.” She shifted again uncomfortably.  “And now you’re paying for my flight and saying I should make up with him.” Kiyana shrugged. “I don’t get it.” 

Joe nodded and stroked his beard. “I mean you know how I feel about you KiKi, ain’t shit change since high school,” Kiyana’s jaw dropped open a bit  “But Josh is my family and if I can help y’all out I will.” Joe lied, If he could have his way, Kiyana would’ve been in his bed last weekend after he made her cum in the club. He didn’t want to help Josh, not one fuckin’ bit. 

Kiyana stared at him before nodding and walking around him into the arena. She didn’t know why she suddenly felt disappointed. She knew about his crush on her in high school, everybody did  “He just went out to his match against Reed, but we can wait for him in catering, you hungry?” Kiyana nodded and followed him to catering, saying Hi to WWE superstars she had met before when she had come to shows with Josh.  

Joe had walked her over to a table at the back of the room and told her he would be right back as he went to make them both a plate of food.  It was obvious the majority of Josh’s coworkers knew about his affair from how some of them kept looking over at her and whispering to each other.

“Don’t worry about them.” Joe said as he came back over with their plates. “It’s basically high school all over again.” Kiyana nodded but still looked over at the table where a handful of women were still whispering and glancing over at her. 

“It seems like everyone knew but me.” 

“I mean to be honest KiKi, they were being kinda obvious.” Kiyana narrowed her eyes. “I only found out a couple days before he told you. Someone came up to me and asked if he divorced you and said they seen her comin’ out his hotel room at like two in the morning. She also walks around here wearing his shit.” 

“Oh.” Kiyana said, looking down at the table. Hearing that he wasn’t even trying to hide his affair hurt. This was such a bad idea. Should’ve just went to the lawyers office like I planned.  She rolled her eyes as a tear slipped down her cheek. She was tired of crying over Josh. She thanked Joe when he handed her a napkin to wipe her tears. 

Josh let out a groan as he came back into the Gorilla Position and saw Shanté waiting for him with a smile on her face. She started clapping as soon as she saw him. “Yay! You won.” She tried to give him a hug but he pushed her off of him.  “Josh, what’s the problem?” 

“How many times I gotta say that I'm done with this shit Shanté? Whatever we had is done aight?!” He brushed past her and started walking towards the locker room. 

“But I love you!” She cried out after him. Josh stopped walking and turned towards Shanté

“No, don’t do that shit. You knew what this was. It wasn’t supposed to go on as long as it did. I’m sorry but I love my wife and I'm not giving her up for nothing.” 

“Yeah, well your precious wife is in catering with Roman right now.” 

“What?” Josh asked, confused. Kiyana was not in California, she was definitely in Florida. “No she not.” 

“Why I gotta lie for Josh. I heard them talking earlier too. You might not be the only one who stepped out on your marriage.” Josh frowned his face up and turned away from Shanté and started making his way towards catering. You might not be the only one who stepped out on your marriage. What the fuck is that suppose to mean?  

Josh was shocked once he entered catering and saw Kiyana sitting at one of the back tables with Joe. He started to walk over to them but stopped as he actually got a good look at them. They were sitting way too close for his liking. , Kiyana was damn near on Joe’s lap and for some reason Joe had his hand on Kiyana’s thigh. Josh felt his anger rise and he stormed over to where they were. 

“The fuck is this?” He asked gruffly, growing irritated as neither one of them moved away from each other. “What is this?” He asked again, gesturing to Joe’s hand that was on Kiyana’s thigh. 

“See told you.” Shante said, smugly as she seemed to materialize out of thin air. “Told you she cheated too.”  Kiyana rolled her eyes and look annoyed but her heart was pounding a furious tattoo. She glanced over at Joe who had a smirk on his face. 

“Tell him what happened at the club.” Shanté said, now talking directly to Kiyana. Kiyana looked around catering and was glad to see that it was almost empty and the few superstars who were still there weren’t paying them any mind. 

“Nothing happened - “ Kiyana started but was cut off by Joe. 

“What we did ain’t nothing worse than what y’all two did.”  What. The. Actual. Fuck?!

Another cliffhanger I'm sorry 😭 (no i'm not)

Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 

#wwe #jey uso #jey uso x black reader #jey uso imagine #main event jey uso #whatdoeseverybodywant writes #jey uso x reader #jey uso smut #wwe x black reader #jey uso fanfic #jey uso fanfiction #wwe fanfiction #wwe x fem reader #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns x black reader #roman reigns x female reader #black reader #black writers

[turbulentscrawl]

In the poly post you said that ithaqua is as close as it get to a yandere may I ask why you think that ? Or any headcanons related to that if that's okay with you (sorry if the English is bad )

As luck would have it, Ithaqua is one of the few Hunters I think I have a decent grasp on rn so I was also able to crank this out quickly! (To my other request-ees: I'm working on HC requests for several other characters rn! I should have them ready to spam-post sometime this weekend <3)

So here's some general and sfw relationship hcs for Ithaqua ;)

-A first small note, his exact age is not listed, but he’s described as a “young adult,” so I imagine him to be somewhere between 18-22.

-Ithaqua is a man who has entirely rejected society. He wants nothing more to do with it, with anyone, and any instance of breaching his territory is met with wind-swift punishment.

-It all fits when you consider the major events of his life. He was abandoned in a snowstorm, left for dead, because he was thought to be a devil. He was saved and raised by a “witch,” a kind woman who stood outside of society’s norms and was feared and hated for it. Their solitary home was trespassed on in the night, defiled, and his mother was kidnapped, tortured, and broken by a man with his exact face. Every small bit of comfort he ever had was destroyed by a mirror image of himself that was raised in “civilized” society. If that doesn’t cement the idea that people from that world can’t be given a chance, I don’t know what would.

-And I think on some level he questions the reality of it all. Did he do it? Did he destroy his own life? Was his so-called brother actually a copy of himself? Was Nathaniel supposed to be the better or the worse version? Was he himself evil before…or is he evil now? None of it matters in the long run, though. His only remaining goal in life is to defend his home and his mother’s resting place from interlopers. But he does get this distant, sour expression sometimes when he contemplates these things.

-I think he’s close to an as-is yandere because, if we assume he’s still capable of bonding with someone on a genuine level, that person would be a one true exception to his otherwise all-consuming distrust and hatred for society. He could not be “led to water”, so to speak, even by a partner who exemplified everything good left in the world. He’s just not capable of making that leap anymore.

-So again, he’s territorial, and that would 1000% extend to a partner. He’s not a master and you’re not his pet, but god would he try to keep you in his clutches. Use every sweet word and convincing anecdote in his arsenal to convince you to stay in the forest. The thing that keeps him from being all-out controlling is that his mother let him make his decisions for himself. She taught him how to survive in the wilderness, and she taught him about the rest of society, and she let him decide for himself if he ever wanted to get involved in it. He didn’t of course, because how could a place that shunned his mother be good for him? You deserve to make those choices too, even if he disagrees with what you pick.

-He will, however, watch you like a hawk. To not sugarcoat it, he’ll stalk you. Ithaqua wants to be prepared for the moment everything goes wrong. The moment he knows for certain will come, when you see he’s right about other people. When that happens, he’ll swoop in to save you. He refuses to be late again, like he was for his mother.

-He doesn’t leave the forest unattended often, but when you spend longer stints at your home in a village, you’ll notice the weather gradually becoming worse and worse. It seems to snow every day, and the wind is so harsh that walking outside is deafening and blinding. When you return to visit Ithaqua, the village mysteriously returns to its normal weather patterns.

-Ithaqua hates when other people interact with you. No one is no one is safe enough, trustworthy enough for him to not worry for your safety. They don’t deserve to even stand near you. But he won’t do anything until they do…or you say he can.

-Anyone he takes as a partner would have to remind him of his mother, at least a little. She’s the only example he has of a “good person” so he’s not likely to give people with divergent personality types much of a chance. He’s also more likely to trust a woman over a man, by a small margin.

-He won’t stand for being doted on or babied by anyone other than his mother or partner. he won't fall for other people's faux-gentleness! Don’t you know who he is? What he is? Call him cute or pitiful again and your blood will stain the snow red.

-His lips are always chapped to hell and back, sorry. Sharp kisses only for you.

#idv x reader #identity v x reader #idv night watch #ithaqua x reader #idv ithaqua #turbulentscraw #almost yandere...

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

too fast

Summary: Sarah getting her first period, leaves Joel Miller standing confused in the women's hygiene aisle where you, his high school sweetheart, find him and offer your help.

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem. reader

Wordcount: 1.5k

Rating: G

Warmings: pre outbreak, talks about periods, little angst, some fluff

follow @toomanystoriessolittletime-fics and turn on notifications for new updates

It was moments like these that Joel Miller cursed being a male single parent. 

His little girl, who still sneaked into his bed at night when she had a nightmare, had gotten her period. Eleven year old girls shouldn’t have to deal with periods. 

She was very grown up about it.

Probably more than he was. 

He wasn’t ready for his little girl to grow up. He probably never would be. 

It was Saturday, they didn’t have any plans for the weekend so Sarah was outside reading a book with a mocktail (it was orange and lemon juice with a tiny paper umbrella in a cocktail glass) while he fixed the creaking front porch with his brother. 

Sarah had approached them outside, waiting for both of the Miller brothers to look up, Joel immediately frowning at the look on her face as she said. 

“Daddy can you buy me some pads? I think I just got my period.”

Even if he knew that this day would be coming in the near future, he wasn’t prepared, nor did he know how to react for a good ten seconds.

He was very happy that he had raised his girl to be open with him, making her feel safe enough to talk about anything. But in this moment he had been a little overwhelmed, thankful when his little brother stepped up and hugged Sarah, whispering some gentle words. 

Joel went through all stages of grief in the span of fifteen seconds before he brushed his dirty hands on his jeans and knelt down in front of his little girl who jumped into his arms as soon as he opened them. 

He could only imagine how scary it was to suddenly start bleeding. Joel was thankful that he had the talk with her the year before. Even if it seemed too early back then, it was his brother who had made him aware of how soon kids seemed to be growing up nowadays. 

Now he was in Target, in the middle of the female hygiene aisle, looking at tampons and pads and things he hadn’t dealt or heard about since Sarah’s mother left them ten years ago. 

Back then he knew what kind and size of Tampons he had to buy. But what do you buy for a little girl? 

Pads, she said. So he left the tampons behind and approached the very colourful packages of various sizes of pads. There were smiling women on some of the packages and he tried to think of a single woman who enjoyed having her period. 

Sarah’s mother had the worst of cramps and sometimes did not leave the bed. And she was craving vanilla pudding from that one brand he couldn’t remember the name of. 

He had one package in a size one for heavy flow days and another package of size two for regular. There were also super long pads that looked like they were only a step away from being a diaper. 

Truth to be told, he was a little overwhelmed and had no idea what he should buy when someone cleared their throat from his left side. He turned his head to find you looking at him. 

“Need any help there, Miller?”

You just wanted to grab a package of tampons on your way home. That, of course, turned into buying ice cream, some sushi and some sweets. You were already on your way to pay when you remembered why you had come here in the first place, rolling your eyes to yourself. Making your way to the women’s hygiene aisle you groaned internally, finding the brand you always bought not there, taking a couple minutes to decide to buy just the smaller size of the same brand and come back the next day.

You turned around to leave when you noticed Joel Miller staring at two packages of pads so intently like they were his taxes. He was so focused on them that he almost jumped when you asked if he needed any help, his eyes widening in surprise, before they softened.

You and Joel went to high school together. 

He was the captain of the football team and you were…. The typical nerd with your nose always stuck in a book. Sure, you had a crush on him, but you never thought he noticed you. You were proven wrong on prom night of all nights when he asked you to be his date. What could have started as a fairytale love story had a fast approaching end date, as you were leaving for college on the other side of the united states (with a full scholarship thanks to your superb grades) later that same summer and Joel was set to go to another college near his hometown, so he could keep working at his fathers contracting company. 

You had spent the whole summer together before you said goodbye. 

You moved away, studied, got the dream job you always wanted. You got married, had a baby girl who was now seven years old, got divorced and then moved back to your hometown earlier the year before. 

You hadn’t kept in contact with Joel, but you knew he did not finish college, got married and had a baby girl as well the year after you left. 

You had started running into each other when you moved back, before he invited you and your daughter over for a BBQ months ago. Now you were meeting at least once a month when you both found the time. 

He was looking at you, his eyebrows furrowed, his lips pursed. 

“Sarah got her period and I have no idea what to buy. Like… There are so many sizes and variants and materials. How in the hell do you know what size to buy?” 

A small smile sneaked to your face. 

“Honestly? By trying out. There’s no real instruction as to what kind of pad to use. There used to be a sample package but I haven’t seen those in forever.”

He sighed and shook his head. 

“As if women don’t have enough to deal with,” he grunted. 

“Hear, hear,” you chuckled. 

It was probably not appropriate to admire how his arms looked in the shirt he was wearing, but you did it anyway. Joel Miller had aged like fine wine, and the more time you spent with him, the more you felt like the sixteen year old all these years back who sneaked off in the middle of the night to make out with him.

“Do you think these would be right for Sarah?” he asked, holding the two packages up. 

You read over them, nodding thoughtfully. 

“I would take these and maybe some from size on in regular. She is pretty small, but better safe than sorry.”

You reached for the third package and he sighed. 

“I cannot believe she’s growing up so fast,” he whispered to himself. You carefully put your hand on his arm and he looked at you. 

“She’s still your little girl. And she will always be. You’re doing a great job with her.”

He gave you a small smile, before he sighed. 

“I should probably get her something else. Is it weird to get her a gift?” he asked. You shook your head. 

“I don’t think so. Maybe get her some candy. Or cook her favourite meal. That’s what I do,” you held your basket up. 

“Maybe I should invite you too if I end up cooking tonight,” he said and you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth. 

“Joel…”

“I mean if you want to. You could bring your girl and we could have a movie night….” he added. 

“She’s with her dad this weekend. And you should spend tonight with your daughter. It’s a big day for her,” you said. 

His face fell a little at your rejection. It wasn’t like you did not want to spend time with him, but it did not feel right like that.

“Yeah. Yeah I guess you’re right,” he mumbled. He pulled all three packages under his arm. 

“But if you want to ask me out to dinner some other time, I’m 100% sure I will say yes,” you smiled shyly. 

He tilted his head, a smile sneaking to his lips.

“That so?” he asked. 

You nodded. 

“Maybe even without our kids,” you hummed, taking a step closer. 

“I think we can arrange that,” he hummed back. 

A cart crashing into something behind you made you both jump before you laughed. 

“I should get back,” he said.

“Me too. The ice cream is already melting,” you joked.

“Change it out for a new one,” he winked. 

“So smart,” you shook your head with a smile. 

“I’ll call you,” he promised. 

“Okay,” you smiled before you slowly turned and walked away from him. 

#my fic #Joel miller #Joel miller x fem. reader #Pedro pascal #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction #tlou fanfiction

[fourthwingfan]

Madness - Chapter 1

Warning: swear language, mentioned childhood trauma, and you know it's a war college so you should be prepared.

Note: I hope you will enjoy this chapter, I'm currently working on ch 2, there will be more excitment as the story goes on, pls bear with me I have so many ideas for this fanfic ;)

A dragon without its rider is a tragedy. A rider without their dragon is dead.

—Article One, Section One

The Dragon Rider’s Codex

„You’re late.” says General Melgren, when I enter his office. He is staring out of the window, and didn’t turn around when he heard me closing the door.

„I apologise, but…” I try to defend myself.

„I dont’t care about your excuses. This is the Conscription Day and you will not fail.” he starts his lecture for the hundreth times.

As if he let me fail. I had been trained for this day since I was born. I am strong, he made sure of that. He doesen’t know the word love since my mother’s death. I never once received a kind word from him. For me he’s a monster, not a father. I hate him.

„Yes, General.” I answer, while I’m tightening my grip on my canvas rucksack.

„Go, and don’t forget what’s your duty. And do not forget that you are a Melgren! Do not bring more shame on this name, that you already had. The Riders Quadrant the only place the suitable to hide your…disfunction.”

What a kind man, I thought. That’s not my fault that I was born this way.

„Yes, General.”

„You’re dismissed.”

With his last word I walk out of the office and I go to wait for Violet in front of her mother’s office. Voices rose from beyond the closed door. They arguing, again.

It’s not a surprise beacuse everybody knows that Violet Sorrengail isn’t meant to be a Rider. She’s small and fragile. The complete opposite of a Rider. Only General Sorrengail is blind to this fact.

Basgiath War College is famous for its cuelty throughout Navarre. Nonetheless thousands of twenty-year-olds waiting to enter their chosen quadrant. I am one of them.

Every Navarrian officer, whether they choose to be schooled as healers, scribes, infantry, or riders is molded within these cruel walls over three years, honed into weapons to secure our mountainous borders from the violent invasion attempts of the kingdom of Poromiel and their gryphon riders. The weak don’t survive here, especially not in the Riders Quadrant. The dragons make sure of that.

I nearly dropped my rucksack when General Sorrengail’s door opened with such a force that’s matching Mira Sorrengail’s temper. She’s Violets older sister by six years.

Mira Sorrengail is the epitome of the perfect Rider. She has short hair to match the standard Rider’s length. She was dressed in black leather and carried her battle worn rucksack in her hand. She was elegant and lethal.

„It seems that General Sorrengail didn’t change her mind about Violet and the Riders Quadrant.” I say when she realises that I was waiting for them.

„No. She’s batshit crazy.” Mira says without a care that the guards might tell her what she said.

„Don’t worry, I’ll be there for her. I can’t guarantee that she will graduate without a scratch, but I will do my best to protect her.” I try to calm Mira.

In this moment the door opened again a whole lot gentler then before. It was Violet.

We practically grew up together, because my father always left me here in Basgiath when he had left to fulfill his duty as one of the most powerful Generals.

Violet was a kind, gentle but sharp tounged woman. She dosen’t fit any of the criteria that makes someone suitable for a life of a Rider.

„Hi Aelin.”

„Hi, Vi. How are you?” I ask her refering to the talk with her mother.

„We don’t have time for a chit chat. Let’s go. We only have an hour before all candidates have to report, and I saw thousands waiting outside the gates when I flew over.” Mira says as she starts walking, leading us down the stone staircase and through the hallways to Violet’s room.

„She’s fucking efficient, I’ll give you that.” Mira mutters

All of Violet’s personal items have been packed into crates that now sit stacked in the corner.

„I was hoping I’d be able to talk her out of it. You were never meant for the Riders Quadrant.” Mira says while emptying Violet’s rucksack to see what she packed that makes it look so heavy.

„So you’ve mentioned. Repeatedly.” Says Violet while she stares at her sister with daggers in her eyes. „And what are you doing? It took me the whole night to choose what I want to bring with me.”

„Sorry Vi, but your pack is almost as heavy as you. It would be impossible to carry it across the Parapet, even for me, and I’m stronger than you.” I wince as she try to catch her books that Mira deemed unnecessary.

„Hey, I want those books. You can’t throw all of them away.” Shouths Violet.

„What’s this for then?” She asks holding up one of the books.

„Obviously killing people. If my memory correct that’s a book about poisonous herbs” I say to at least save one of the books for Violet.

„I’m surprised that you even tried to read a book” Replies Mira not even paying attention to what she says.

„I’m not illiterate Mira. I just have problems with reading and you know that too.” I cringe because I really hate this topic.

„Shit, Aelin I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way.” Sighs Mira, then looks at Violet to divert the subject.

„Take off those horrible boots, they are a death trap. You’ll slip right off the Parapet with those smooth soles. I have a set of rubber-bottomed rider boots made for you just in case.” States Mira while giving the boots and black leather clothes to her sister. „Now, get changed while I sort out the rest of this mess.”

„And you…” She begins and check my clothes if I too need to change them.

„You’re set.” Mira states in a surprised tone.

„Yeah, you know my father. He never let me embarass him by falling off the Parapet beacuse of something this trivial.” I said as I roll my eyes.

„Than at least he did one thing right in his life.” Mira says harshly while she finish packing into Violet’s rucksack.

„Rider black is supposed to be earned. Someone’s going to say we didn’t earn them.” I hear Violet refer to her clothes and mine, when she emerges from the bathroom in her new attire.

„You’re a Sorrengail. Fuck what they say.” Responds Mira while she laces Violet into a vest-style corset over her shirt.

„Here, this is yours. Put it on too.” Mira say and I get a corset that matches with Violet’s one.

„What is this?” I ask while trying putting it on.

„Something I designed,” she explains „I had it specially made for you two with Teine’s scales sewn in, so be careful with it.”

„Dragon scales?” I jerk my head back to look at her. „How the hell? Teine is huge.”

„I happen to know a rider whose power can make big things very small.” A devious smile plays across her lips.” „And smaller things… much, much bigger.”

„How much bigger?” I ask laughing.

„It’s a secret.” She says while motioning Violet to sit in front of her.

„You’re the worst.” says Violet.

„Oh come on Vi, don’t tell me that you aren’t curious.” I tease her.

„Head forward. You should have cut your hair.” Mira says while she pulls the strainds tight against Violets head and resume weaving. „It’s a liability in sparring and in battle, not to mention being a giant target. No one else has a hair that fades out silver like this, and they’ll already be aiming for you.”

„You know very well the natural pigment seems to gradually abandon it no matter the length.” Says Violet with defiance. „Besides, other than everyone else’s concern for the shade, my hair is the only thing about me that’s perfectly healthy. Cutting it would feel like I’m punishing my body for finally doing something well, and it’s not like I feel the need to hide who I am. Besides it’s not like Aelin will blend into the environment either.”

„So what’s your excuse for not cutting your hair?” Mira asks with raised eyebrows. „Because I know you have one too. You two always come up with something to get out of trouble.”

„I won’t cut it. I can braid it tightly to not distract me in a fight, besides it’s not like I resemble the General. My hair and my eyes come from my mother.” I say while looking into a mirror on one of the walls.

It’s true. I’m nothing like my father. I look just like my mother, as they say. She was a beauty and the only person whom my father loved in his life. Unfortunately that caused her death.

When she was in her last months in the pregnency, she was attacked by a group who wanted to eliminate the General using my mother. But she was a warrior and tried to save us by escaping. That was when someone injured her and left her to die. When they found my mother she was dying. Pregnant with me. The healers tried to save her but they are not gods. They can’t bring back the dead. They were only able to save me. These are the only facts that I know because nobody want to speak about my mother in fear to anger the General.

Between the few minutes that my mother had died and I was saved, happened a lot of things to my body. My hair is supposed to be a natural golden color but has strands of silvery white, just like my eyes. They should be golden but there are tiny circular parts around my iris where the silvery white color appears. The healers said that it was due to lack of oxygen. My father can’t even look at me because I remind him of my mother and my unique coloring is remind him of her brutal death and that he couldn’t save her. I think this is the main reason that he hates me. The other is another consequence of the circumstance of my birth.

When I was old enough that the General brought tutors to start my education, it turned out that my brain suffered some damage too. I was dyslexic. It doesen’t mean that I can’t read, it’s just really-really difficult. As if the words are running away from my eyes, everytime I try to read something. It doesen’t matter if it’s a short or long text. My memory is great enough that I can remember a lot of things after hearing it but not everything. That makes studying a whole lot of harder. The General ordered that we keep it a secret, so outside my father, and the tutors, the Sorrengail children are the only ones who know it. This is the other reason why the General said in his office that I bring shame on the Melgren name.

„Well then there’s nothing that I can say to change either of your mind.” Sighs Mira. „Then listen to me well.” As she starts to summarize years of knowledge into fifteen harried minutes, barely pausing to breathe.

„Be observant. Quiet is fine, but make sure you notice everything and everyone around you to your advantage. You’ve read the Codex?” Mira asks

„A few times.” Violet answers.

„I tried but I don’t remember everything.” I shrug.

„Then Violet will help you memorize it once you begin your classes. Then you should know that the other riders can kill you any time, and the cutthroat cadets will try. Fewer cadets means better odds at Threshing. There are never enough dragons willing to bond, and anyone reckless enough to get themselves killed isn’t worthy of a dragon anyway.”

„Except when sleeping. It’s an executable offense to attack any cadet while sleeping. Article Three-„ cites Violet.

„Yes, but that doesn’t mean you’re safe at night. Sleep in this if you can.” She taps the stomach of my corset. „Both of you.”

„There’s hidden sheaths sewn diagonally along the rib cage in your corset. For your daggers.” Continue Mira.

„I only have four.” Says Violet, then she grabs them from the floor and slide it into the sheaths.

„I have four and a sword.” I say to Mira while pointing at them at my ribs and thighs, the sword is strapped to my back.

„That’s fine. You’ll earn more.” She nods „Wear the armor at all times. Keep your daggers on you at all times.” She points to the sheaths down her thighs.

„Someone’s going to say we didn’t earn them.” Violet says. Clearly she worries too much.

„Come on Vi, remember what Mira said. You’re a Sorrengail. Fuck what they say. We will survive no matter what!” I say trying to calm her down a bit.

„Exactly. You’re both famous Generals daughters. A Sorrengail and a Melgren. You can do what you have to do to survive and never forget that.” Agrees Mira with me. „There’s no such thing as cheating once you climb the turret. There’s only survival and death.” The bell chimes – only thirty minutes left. She swallows. „It’s almost time. Ready?”

„No.” Replies quickly Violet.

„My hands are trembling.” I show them that indeed my hands are visibly shaking.

„Neither was I ready.” A wry smile lifts a corner of Mira’s mouth. „And I’d spent my life trainig for it, just like Aelin.”

„We’re not going to die today.” States Violet and slings the rucksack over her shoulder.

The halls of the central, administrative part of the fortress are eerily quiet as we wind our way down through various staircases, but the noise from outside grows louder the lower we descend. Through the windows, I see thousands of candidates hugging their loved ones and saying their goodbyes ont he grassy fields just beneath the main gate.

From what I’ve witnessed every year, most families hold on to their candidates right up to the very last bell. The four roads leading to the fortress are clogged with horses and wagons, especially where they converge in front of the college, but it’s the empty ones at the edge of the fields that make me nervous.

They’re for the bodies.

Right before we round the last corner that will lead tot he courtyard, Mira stops.

„What is – Oof.” I hear Violet’s muffled voice when Mira yanks her against her chest, hugging her tight in the relative privacy of the corridor.

„Aelin, you too. Come here.” Says Mira as Violet makes room for me, and then extends her arms.

„I love both of you. Remember everything I’ve told you. Don’t become another name on the death roll. Both of your lives are equally important. Do everything you can to stay alive.” Her voice shakes, and I wrap my arms around her, squeezing tight.

„We’ll be alright. I’ll be alright.” I promise.

She nods, her chin bumping against the top of my head. „I know. Let’s go.”

That’s all she says before pulling away and walking into the crowded courtyard just inside the main gate to the fortress. Instructors, commanders, and even General Sorrengail and General Melgren are gathered informally, waiting for the madness outside the walls to become the order within. Out of all the doors in the war college, the main gate is the only one no cadet will enter today, since each quadrant has its own entrance and facilities. Hell, the riders have their own citadel.

„Find Dain Aetos,” Mira tells us as we cross through the courtyard, heading for the open gate.

„Dain?” Asks Violet with a smile. I think she has a huge crush on him, but didn’t admit it yet. I don’t think he’s such a good person as Vi thinks, but I was never that close with him. We always avoided each others company. There’s something in his eyes that’s makes me uneasy.

„I’ve only been out of the quadrant for three years, but from what I hear, he’s doing well, and he’ll keep both of you safe.”

„As if I want to go near him” I say silently

„It doesn’t matter Aelin, just stay alive.” Scolds me Mira

„And you. Don’t smile like that,” she turns to Violet. „He’ll be second-year.” She shakes a finger at her. „Don’t mess around with second-years. If you want to get laid, and you should” – she lifts her brows – „often, considering you never know what the day brings, then screw around in your own year. Nothing is worse than cadets gossiping that you’ve slept your way to safety. This applies to you too Aelin.”

„So I’m free to take any of the first-years I want to bed,” I say with a smirk. „Just not the second- or the third-years.”

„Exactly.” She winks.

„Then we should definitely find the handsome ones. This is our first task Vi.” I joke with her, in hope that she at least smiles because she seems a little greener the longer she looks at the wagons at the road.

„Let’s cross the Parapet first Aelin.” Says Violet

„Sure Vi.” I wink at her.

We cross through the gates, leaving the fortress, and join the organized chaos beyond.

Each of Navarre’s six provinces has sent this year’s share of candidates for military service. Some volunteer. Some are sentenced as punishment. Most are conscripted. The only thing we have in common here at Basgiath is that we passed the entrance exam – both written and an agility test – which means at least we won’t end up as fodder for the infantry on the front line.

The agility test was easy with someone like me who had the „luck” to train under General Melgren’s watchful eyes. But the written exam was a nightmare. I barely passed despite the fact that I practiced for non-stop before it. It’s just the fact that I’m not like the other normal candidates. Give me a weapon and I’ll know how to use it. Bring me an opponent and I will figure out how to win. But I just can’t will my barin to function normally. Which my father likes to remind me all the time.

The atmosphere is tense with anticipation as Mira leads me along the worn cobblestone path toward the southern turret.

The majority of the crowd moves to line up at the base of the northern turret – the entrance to the Infantry Quadrant. Some of the mass heads toward the gate behind us – the Healer Quadrant that consumes the southern end of the college. Then I spot a few taking the central tunnel into the archives below the fortress to join the Scribe Quadrant. Violet wanted to be a scribe for her whole life. But General Sorrengail has other plans.

The entrance to the Riders Quadrant is nothing more than a fortified door at the base of the tower, that we rider candidates will climb.

We join the riders’ line, waiting to sign in, and then I glance up.

High above us, crossing the river-bottomed valley that divides the main college from the even higher, looming citadel of the Riders Quadrant on the southern ridgeline, is the Parapet, the stone bridge that’s about to separate rider candidates from cadets over the next few hours.

„And to think, I’ve been preparing for the scribe’s written exam all these years.” Says Violet in thick sarcastic voice. „I should have been playing on a balance beam.”

„Believe me Vi, I’ve been playing on a balance beam for years but I don’t think that’s the same as the Parapet.” I say laughing. „However I’m a little excited about this.”

Mira ignores us as the line moves forward and candidates disappear through the door. „Don’t let the wind sway your steps.”

Two candidates ahead of us, a woman sobs as her partner rips her away from a young man, the couple breaking from the line, retreating in tears down the hillside toward the crowd of loved ones lining the roads. There are no other parents ahead of us, only a few dozen candidates moving toward the roll-keepers.

„Keep your eyes on the stones ahead of you and don’t look down,” Mira says, the lines of her face tightening. „Arms out for balance. If the pack slips, drop it. Better it falls than you.”

„Maybe I should let them go first,” whispers Violet.

„No,” Mira answers. „The longer you wait on those steps” – she motions toward the tower – „the greater your fear has a chance to grow. Cross the Parapet before the terror owns you.”

„Mira’s right and you know it Vi. We will be alright. I’ll be there with you until we cross this damn thing.” I try to cheer her up. „If you want I’ll be the first, than you can watch and copy me.”

„Thanks, Aelin.” Smiles Violet.

The line moves, and the bell chimes again. It’s eight o’clock.

Sure enough, the crowd of thousands behind us has separated fully into their chosen quadrants, all lined up to sign the roll and begin their service.

„Focus,” Mira snaps, and I whip my head forward. „This might sound harsh, but don’t seek friendships in there. Forge alliances. Both of you.”

There are only two ahead of us now – a woman with a full pack, and a man with the woman crying over him. He’s carrying an even bigger rucksack.

I look around the pair toward the roll-keeping desk, and my eyes widen.

„Is he…?” Whispers Violet.

Mira glances and mutters a curse. „A separatist’s kid? Yep. See that shimmering mark that starts on the top of his wrist? It’s a relic from the rebellion.”

„A dragon did that?” She asks.

I nod. „Yes. General Melgren told me once, that it was his dragon that did it to all of them when he executed their parents. Nothing like punishing the kids to deter more parents from committing treason. Most of the marked kids who carry rebellion relics are from Tyrrendor.”

It always seemed cruel to me. Punishing the children for their parents actions.

In this moment the blood drains from Mira’s face, and she grips the straps of my pack, turning me to face her. „I just remembered.” Her voice drops, and we lean in to hear her better. „Stay the hell away from Xaden Riorson.”

That name…

„That Xaden Riorson,” she confirms, fear lacing her gaze. „He’s a third-year, and he will kill you the second he finds out who you are.” She lifts her gaze to Violet. „Both of you.”

„His father was the Great Betrayer. He led the rebellion,” Violet says quietly. „What is Xaden doing here?”

„All the children of the leaders were conscripted as punishment for their parents’ cirmes,” I murmur. Yep, my father was really a monster.

Mira whispers as we shuffle sideways, moving with the line. „Mom told me they never expected Riorson to make it past the parapet. Then they figured a cadet would kill him, but once his dragon chose him…” She shakes her head. „Well, there’s nothing much that can be done then. He’s risen to the rank of wingleader.”

„That’s bullshit.” Violet seethes.

„He’s sworn allegiance to Navarre, but I don’t think that will stop him where you’re concerned. Once you get across the Parapet – because you will make it across – find Dain. He’ll put you in his squad, and we’ll just hope it’s far from Riorson.” She grips my straps tighter. „Stay. Away. From. Him.” She knew me well enough to feel the need to repeat it. I don’t like this whole rebellion relic thing. This punishment is too curel.

„Roger that.” I say to calm her down.

„Noted.” Nods Violet.

„Next,” a voice calls from behind the wooden tablet hat bears the rolls of the Riders Quadrant. The marked rider I don’t know is seated next to a scribe, whose eyebrows rise over his weathered face. „Violet Sorrengail?”

She nods, and picking up the quill she sing her name on the roll.

„But I thought you were meant for the Scribe Quadrant,” he says softly.

„General Sorrengail chose otherwise,” I answer him.

„Melgren?” He asks.

„Yes, my name is Aelin Melgren.” I say then I sign my name on the next empty line on the roll.

„You look so much like your late mother,” He says while sadness fills his eyes.

„You knew my mom?” I ask amazed.

He turned his head to Violet „Pity. You had so much promise.” So he knew my mother, but won’t say a thing. As usual. But I just want to know what she was like.

„By the gods,” the rider next tot he scribe says. „You’re Mira Sorrengail?” His jaw drops, and I can smell his hero worship from here.

„I am.” She nods. „This is my sister, Violet. And this is Aelin Melgren. They’ll be first-years.”

„If your sister survives the Parapet.” Someone behind me snickers. „Wind just might blow her right off.”

„Shut up, idiot. You have a higher chance falling of the Parapet than her. It seems you don’t have a brain to think with, if you don’t know to not interfere in the adults conversations.” I answer angrily.

„You fought at Strythmore,” the rider behind the desk says with awe. „They gave you the Order of the Talon for taking out the battery behind enemy lines.”

„As I was saying.” Mira puts a hand at our shoulders. „This is my sister, Violet and our friend Aelin Melgren.”

„You know the way.” The scribe nods and points to the open door into the turret. It looks ominously dark in there, and I fight the urge to run away.

„I know the way,” she assures him, leading us past the table so the snickering asshole behind me can sign the roll.

We pause at the doorway and turn toward each other.

„Don’t die, Violet. I’d hate to be an only child. And you too Aelin, I consider you my sister so stay alive.” She grins and walks away, sauntering past the line of gawking candidates as word spreads of exactly who she is and what she’s done.

„Though to live up to that,” the woman ahead of us says from just inside the tower.

„It is,” Violet agrees.

„But at least she’s a good sister.” I say laughing.

My eyes adjust quickly to the dim light coming in through the equidistant windows along the curved staircase.

„Sorrengail, and Melgren as in…?” the woman asks, looking over her shoulder as we begin to climb the hundreds of stairs.

„Yep.” There’s no railing, so I gesture Violet to keep her hand on the stone wall as we rise higher and higher.

„The generals?” the blond guy ahead of us asks.

„The same ones,” I answer, offering him a quick smile.

„Wow. Nice leathers, too.” He smiles back.

„Thanks. They’re courtesy of our family.”

„I wonder how many candidates have fallen off the edge of the steps and died before they even reach the Paraphet,” the woman says, glancing down the center of the staircase as we climb higher.

„Two last year.” Violet replies immediately. „Well, three if you count the girl one of the guys landed on.”

The woman’s brown eyes flare, but she turns back around keeps climbing. „How many steps are there?” she asks.

„Two hundred and fifty,” Violet answers.

„Oh god Vi, I love your brain.” I said laughing, then we climb in silence for another five minutes.

„Not too bad,” she says with a bright smile as we near the top and the line comes to a halt. „I’m Rhiannon Matthias, by the way.”

„Dylan,” the blond guy responds with an enthusiastic wave.

„Violet.” Vi give them a tense smile.

„Aelin.” I say and wink at Vi, ignoring Mira’s earlier suggestion that we avoid friendships and only forge alliances.

„I feel like I’ve been waiting my entire life for this day.” Dylan shifts his pack on his back. „Can you believe we actually get to do this? It’s a dream come true.”

„I can’t fucking wait.” Rhiannon’s smile widens. „I mean, who wouldn’t want to ride a dragon?”

„Do your parents approve?” Dylan asks. „Because my mom’s been begging me to change my mind for months. I keep telling her that I’ll have better chances for advancement as rider, but she wanted me to enter the Healer Quadrant.”

„Mine always knew I wanted this, so they’ve been pretty supportive. Besides, they have my twin to dote on. Raegan’s already living her dream, married and expecting a baby.” Rhiannon glances back at us.

„What about you? Let me guess. With names like Melgren and Sorrengail, I bet you were the first to volunteer this year.”

„Yes, I wanted to come here since I can remember.” I say with a smile. „I’m really excited about this. I mean do you see the dragons? They magnificent.”

„I hear ya girl.” Says Rihannon as we high five. „What about you Violet?”

„I was more like volun-told.”

„Gotcha.”

„And riders do get way better perks than other officers,” Violet says to Dylan as the line moves upward again. The snickering candidate behind me catches up, sweating and red. Look who isn’t snickering now. „Better pay, more leniency with the uniform policy,” she continues. No one gives a shit what riders wear as long as it’s black. The only rules that apply to riders are the ones in the Codex.

„And the right to call yourself a supreme badass,” Rhiannon adds.

„That too,” I agree. „Pretty sure they issue you an ego with your flight leathers.”

„Plus I’ve heard that riders are allowed to marry sooner than the other quadrants,” Dylan adds.

„True. Right after graduation. If we survie.” Says Violet. „I think it has something to do with wanting to continue bloodlines.”

„Or because we tend to die sooner than the other quadrants,” Rhiannon muses.

„I’m not dying,” Dylan says with way more confidence than I feel –  however I practiced for this for my whole life – as he tugs a necklace from under his tunic to reveal a ring dangling from the chain. „She said it would be bad luck to propose before I left, so we’re waiting until graduation.” He kisses the ring and tucks the chain back under his collar. „The next three years are going to be long ones, but they’ll be worth it.”

„You might make it across the Parapet,” the guy behind us sneers. „This one here is a breeze away from the bottom of the ravine.”

I roll my eyes. He doesn’t learn.

„Shut up and focus on yourself,” Rhiannon snaps, her feet clicking against the stone as we climb.

The top comes into sight, the doorway full of muddled light. Those clouds are going to wreak havoc on us, and we have to be on the other side of the Parapet before they do.

Another step, another tap of Rhiannon’s feet.

„Let me see your boots,” Says Violet quietly, probably hoping that the jerk behind me can’t hear her.

Her brows puckers, and confusion fills her brown eyes, but she shows her the shoes. They’re smooth, just like the ones Violet was wearing earlier. My stomach sinks like a rock. I know what she will do.

The line starts moving again, pausing when we’re only a few feet from the opening. „What size are your feet?” She asks.

„What?” Rhiannon blinks at her.

„Your feet. What size are they?”

„Eight,” she answers, two lines forming between her brows.

„I’m seven,” Vi says quickly. „It will hurt like hell, but I want you to take my left boot. Trade with me.”

„I’m sorry?” She looks at her like she has lost her mind.

„These are rider boots. They’ll grip the stone better. Your toes will be scrunched and generally miserable, but at least you’ll have a shot at not falling off if the rain hits.”

„Oh hell, don’t you dare Violet Sorrengail,” I hiss at her. „Just minutes ago I promised your sister that you will survive this damn Parapet, and now you want to throw away your best chance? Absouletly no.

„I give you my left boot. It’s the same size.” I say to Rihannon.

„What? No, that was my idea.” Whispers Violet.

„I know, but I will do it.” I reply. „Now hurry up, we don’t have time. It’s almost our turn.”

Rhiannon purses her lips in debate for a second, then agrees, and we swap left boots. I barely finish lacing up before the line moves again.

The top of the turret is bare, the crenelations of stone rising and falling along the circular structure at the height of my chest and doing nothing to obscure the view. The ravine and its river below suddenly feel very, very far. Every trial in the quadrant – including this one – is designed to test a cadet’s ability to ride. If someone can’t manage to walk the windy length of the slim stone bridge, then they sure as hell can’t keep their balance and fight on the back of a dragon.

And as for the death rate? I guess every other rider thinks the risk is worth the glory – or has the arrogance to think they won’t fall.

I breath deeply as I walk the edge behind Rhiannon, and in front of Violet, my fingers skimming the stonework as we wind our way toward the parapet.

Three riders wait at the entrance, which is nothing more than a gaping hole in the wall of the turret. One with ripped-off sleeves records names as candidates step out onto the treacherous crossing. Another, who’s shaved all his hair with the exception of a strip down the top center, instructs Dylan as he moves into position, patting his chest like the ring hidden there will bring him luck.

The third turns in my direcion and my heart simply…stops.

He’s tall, with windblown black hair and dark brows. The line of his jaw is strong and covered by warm tawny skin and dark stubble, and when he folds his arms across his torso, the  muscles in his chest and arms ripple, moving in a way that makes me swallow. And his eyes… His eyes are the shade of gold-flecked onyx. The contrast is startling, jawdropping even – everything about him is. His features are so harsh that they look carves, and yet they’re astonishingly perfect, like an artist worked a lifetime sculpting him, and at least a year of that was spent on his mouth.

He’s the most esquisite man I’ve ever seeen.

Even the diagonal scar that bisects his left eyebrow and marks the top corner of his cheek only makes him hotter. Flaming hot. Scorching hot. Gets-you-into-trouble-and-you-like-it level of hot. Suddenly, I know that I won’t take Mira’s advice that not to fuck around outside my year group.

„See you girls on the other side!” Dylan says over his shoulder with an excited grin before stepping onto the parapet, his arms spread wide.

„Ready for the next one, Riorson?” the rider with the ripped sleeves says.

Xaden Riorson?

„You ready for this, Sorrengail? I think Melgren is fine, but you seems a little pale.” Rhiannon says moving forward.

The black-haired rider snaps his gaze to mine, turning fully toward me, then he looks onto Violet. That’s when I see it, the rebellion relic. It start at his bare left wrist, then disappears under his black uniform to appear again at his collar, where it stretches and swirls up his neck, stopping at his jawline.

„Oh shit,” I whisper, and his eyes snapped back to mine, as if he can hear me over the howl of wind that rips at my secured braid.

„Sorrengail? Melgren?” He steps toward us, and I look up… and up.

Good gods, I barely reach his collarbone. He’s massive. He has to be more than four inches over six feet tall.

I nod once, while a I make sure that I stand before Violet. To my movement the shining onyx of his eyes transforms to cold, unadulterated hatred. I can almost taste the loathing wafting off him like a bitter cologne.

„Aelin?” Rhiannon asks, moving forward.

„You’re the Generals daughters.” His voice deep and accusatory.

„You’re Fen Riorson’s son,” Violet counters behind me.

Xaden sucks in a deep breath, and the muscle in his jaw flexes once. Twice. „Your mother captured my father, and her father executed him.”

„Your father killed my older brother. Seems like we’re even.”  Oh gods Violet, just shut up please, I beg in my mind.

„Hardly.” His glaring gaze strokes over me like he’s memorizing every detail or looking for any weakness.

I hold his glare, as if winning this staring competition will gain us safe entrance to the quadrant instead of crossing the Parapet behind him. Either way, I’m getting across. I promised to Mira that both of us will be safe on the other side.

His hands clench into fists, and he tenses.

I prepare for the strike, if I have to protect Violet. He might want to throw us off this tower, but I won’t make it easy for him.

„You all right?” Rhiannon asks, her gaze jumping between Xaden and me.

He glances at her. „You’re friends?”

„We met on the stairs,” she says, squaring her shoulders.

He looks down, noting our mismatched boots, and arches a brow. His hands relax. „Interesting.”

Fuck, Violet and her big heart.

„Are you going to kill us?” Asks Violet behind me.

„Shit, Violet just shut up please.” I hiss at Vi. „I don’t think it is a good idea to tempt someone throwing us off, who is bigger and stronger then us. I suppose you just have a death wish with pissing him off.” I facepalmed.

His gaze clashes with mine as the sky opens and rain falls in a deluge, soaking my hair, my leathers, and the stones around us in seconds.

A scream rends the air, and we jerk our attention to the Parapet just in time to see Dylan slip.

Violet gasps behind me.

He catches himself, hooking his arms over the stone bridge as his feet kick beneath him, scrambling for a purchase that isn’t there.

„Pull yourself up, Dylan!” Rhiannon shouts.

„Oh gods!” In the corner of my eyes I see that Violet’s hand flies to cover her mouth. That’s when Dylan loses his grip on the water-slick stone and falls, disappearing from view. The wind and rain steal any sound his body might make in the valley below.

Xaden never takes his eyes from me, watching silently with a look I can’t interpret.

„Why would I waste my energy killing you when the Parapet will do it for me?” A wicked smile curves his lips. „Your turn Melgren.”

Fucking handsome bastard.

#xaden x reader #xaden riorson x reader #the fourth wing #the empyrean #xaden riorson #violet sorrengail #fourth wing fanfic #fourth wing #bodhi durran #garrick tavis #dragons #fanfiction #liam mairi

[dumbbitchenergy17]

Where the Wild Things Are - Chapter 7

Chapter Seven: Haunted Memories

Plot: Wild men or monstrous infected creatures, the world is wild and ravaged by Cordecyps but some are raised in it and flourish becoming a wild thing.

Word Count: 3.6K

Pairing: Joel Miller x Platonic!Teen!Reader, Ellie Williams x Platonic!Reader

Warnings: canon-typical fighting/violence, injuries, harsh language, tw: trauma from abusive mother, vomit, DESCRIPTION OF POSSIBLE SEXUAL ASSUALT

—————

I wish I didn't care. 'Cause I just can't compare and oh how the bitterness stings. What am I doing wrong? Do I just not belong? Oh, why can't I excel at something? Like you.

“What is wrong with you?”

Her voice roars through the small apartment rattling the walls. Your head instinctively ducks down at the sheer volume as salty tears already form in your eyes. You didn’t mean for it to happen it was an accident, you had a simple job go and get the food with the ration cards. Your tiny hands clutching the cards that determine whether you will eat or not as you race through the streets excitement across your face happy to provide help to your mother.

“How stupid are you?”

That insult was thrown at you so many times it slowly became fact. You were a stupid kid. A disgrace, brat, failure. Any comment under the sun could describe how stupid you were. The ration building was so close and the warm feeling ready to hear the praise come from your mother when you returned home.

“I should have made sure you were never born.”

Just feet away and your short legs tripped against some mere trash. You should have paid more attention, she says you’re always daydreaming your attention a thousand miles away. You hit the ground hard and fast, the scrape of concrete against your fragile skin as your grasp of the small paper cards gets picked up by the wind. You watch frozen on your stomach watching the ticket to a meal fly into the gutter disappearing from your view and in that moment you had been given a fate worse than death.

“Do you have any idea how hard it is living with such an ungrateful brat!” She was right you were one. You took her kindness for granted and this is how you repay her. Your hands clutch the end of her shirt tears welling up in your eyes as you begged for forgiveness.

“I’m sorry mama..please I’m sorry!” It hurt worse hitting the ground once more but this time at the hands of your mother. You hold your breath trying to keep in the tears but fail the second you smack against the tile of the kitchen. Fat tears roll down your face stinging the tiny cuts across your face from falling on the street as you cry before your mother. Her warnings to force you to stop go on deaf ears as you wail before her and beg for forgiveness. It was pathetic really. Big tears and snot pouring out of the child had only triggered the older woman more just the noise sent her into a rage.

“I told you…to stop fucking crying!” A harsh grip on your arm as you’re pulled to your feet stumbling to try to keep up. The door to the outside rips open as you’re tossed out your body colliding with the cold snow producing a sharp cry. Scrambling to your knees you look up at your mother disgust branded on her face as she stares at not a child anymore but a young woman.

“Starve for all I care. I don’t care about you…your bastard of a father never cared about you..the world doesn’t care about you.” Her words are like venom, as you bite your lip so hard blood pours from the self-afflicted wound. The door shakes on its old hinges as it slams shut. You race to the old wood your hands pounding on the door pleads falling from your lips,

“Mama…I’m sorry please let me in.” Your voice is hoarse and cracks with your words. The snow soaks into your thin clothes your body quickly numbs as you cry hoping she finds pity and brings you inside away from here where anyone could snatch you up and harm you.

 The cable wraps around your throat tightly dragging you away from your safety as your voice is choked by the wire. It digs deep into your skin scratching to pull it free as your precious air is drained from your lungs. The other raider stalks toward you in the snow as your legs kick out the storm rages on muffling your screams.

Cries for your mother to come to your aid.

Help me.

Save me. 

Love me.

Your prayers go unanswered as the cable gets taut, your lungs burning, screaming for air. The burly man towers over you pinning you the cold of the snow burning your skin as his hands move toward his belt ready to take what he wants.

This was what she warned you about. You’re a stupid girl who never listens to her.

“Mama please!” Your screams echo through the air as the man with no jaw reveals a rotten bloody grin as his hand grabs your pants.

Air rushes through your lungs as you shoot upwards the rapid ascent of bile as you fall from the bed pain pulsing in your shoulder. Your sore body stumbles to the bathroom barely reaching the toilet as you expel whatever little was in your stomach. Your eyes sting as you empty your stomach coughing at the acidic taste, feeling drained as you slump back against the wall. You wince at the inhale your hand raising to your throat sucking in a harsh breath feeling the bandaged skin but the light pressure just tracing it sends you recoiling.

Fuck that hurts.

Flushing the toilet while pulling yourself up with the help of the sink running the water to wash your hands and then cupping water in your palms to drink. Spitting out the water in the sink semi-cleaning your mouth from the bitter taste of bile you look up at the mirror. Why hadn’t you anticipated the attack? You should’ve known one was going to be coming from behind. Your brows draw together a deep frown across your face looking at yourself. Those dark circles, the weakness in your bones and muscles, you’re getting weaker.

Getting weaker makes you vulnerable.

Weak means you’ve become a liability.

Weak means you can’t protect yourself.

Weak. Weak. Weak.

The world wasn’t going to wait for you to heal. The world doesn’t care about you.

Your joints ache removing the bandages seeing the raw wound across your neck and the neat stitching along your shoulder. The water runs a murky red removing the dried blood and grime off your body wishing to stay under the hot water forever but you knew you would have to get out. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to running hot water.

You had to bite down on your lip to muffle the sounds of pain as you redressed your wounds and dressed in clothes. Your limbs ache and you already feel drained of energy but you need to persevere through. The house is silent looking out the windows it didn’t even look like the sun had risen yet. Your body begs you to return to bed and sleep but you ignore the rational side, when you lived in the cabin the few times you injured yourself you were right back at work. Surviving to get to where you are today didn’t allow you to rest, if that meant traveling with healing wounds or cold then it happened.

The walk to the stables could have been peaceful if it wasn’t for the slight pounding in your head that only grew worse when you made it to the building. You barely acknowledge the horses as they seem to sense your weakened state putting them in a concern mode. Red nudges her head against your hand when you pat the side of her face. A noise of worry for the young girl that took care of them all.

Joel was surprised to not be plagued with nightmares given the circumstances that occurred not even twenty-four hours ago. No dreams of failing those he cared about, watching the ones he loved taken from him so brutally leaving him just an empty shell. He was also surprised by the quietness of the home, no pounding of shoes rushing through the house or the banging of cabinets as Ellie went scavenging for a meal for the growing girl. Glancing at the functioning clock resting against the bedside table he saw how late he had slept in for. It was almost noon for christ sake he scolds himself. Pushing himself up and out of bed with a groan to get at the late start in the day. His joints ache and crack as he rises to his feet and the loud noise of someone bounding up the stairs makes him feel slightly alright knowing this was normal in this new life of his.

The pounding on the bedroom door was something he didn’t think was normal. A tired shuffle quickly turned into annoyance as he dressed himself as the door continued to be beaten by whoever was outside of it.

“I’m coming! You can stop your poundin’!” He shouts his voice hoarse from using it for the first time today. “Why the hell are yo-” He already had a feeling it was Ellie as he swung the door revealing the younger girl but what came out of her wasn’t what he expected.

“She’s gone!” The panic and fear in her voice and face seemed to completely wake the older man up.

“What?” Immediately alert as Ellie starts pulling him out of his room and dragging him to the stairs, “I woke up and thought to make you guys breakfast and when I went to go check out her she wasn’t there! Her shoes and coat were gone, and it looked like she hadn’t been there for hours. I wanted to go looking but I knew I should have woken you up.”

“Settle down kiddo, it’s alright. Get your shoes and coat we’ll go get Tommy.” And like he summoned his brother the front door swings open and in comes the younger Miller brother with surprisingly the person they were about to go after who looked on the verge of keeling over.

“What the hell! Where were you?!” Ellie starts spewing questions running up to her and grabbing her shoulders. The motion makes the older girl’s eyes widen and she pulls back right out the door barely making it to the porch railing before emptying her stomach right over into the snow below. Ellie and Joel jump back at the sudden action as Tommy who seems to have already dealt with this holds your hair back as you cough and spit out bile, the acidic taste bringing tears to your eyes.

“Holy fuck.” Ellie turns from the sight not able to handle someone being sick causing a turn in her stomach. Joel watches as Tommy gives some comforting words while you rest your head on the railing trying to catch your breath.

“Alright let’s get you inside,” Tommy says softly helping you back to your feet both men were surprised by the complacency given your rejection of their help last night. The younger Miller brother helps you sit on the couch pulling a blanket across your lap before joining his brother back by the front door.

“Where the hell did you find her?” Joel questions both men glancing over at you and the sickly expression and demeanour that surrounds you. “Stables was going to take her shift until someone could cover her. Found her barely able to stand looking like the wind could blow her away.” Looking back at you to find Ellie sitting beside you on the couch trying to offer you a glass of water and you accept with weak hands.

Your head was pounding with the weak sips of water added weight to your empty stomach creating more pain. Being in Jackson you’ve gotten too used to actual meals or decent food instead of picking scrapes or rationing food to last you when you were in the cabin. Even in Kansas, the limited ration cards were barely enough for a growing child your stomach used to times of going through the day with maybe only one meal or just a crumb of food in your body.

“Hey kid,” Tommy’s voice pulls you from your thoughts with a heavy head looking up at the older man squatted in front of you. “You just stay there with Ellie and keep drinking water. Gonna get you soup something light on your stomach alright?” You hum bringing your attention back to your drink and Tommy stands with a groan both he and Joel head elsewhere from your field of vision. You’re sure Joel said something to Ellie but your eyes drifted shut only to blink awake from a poke at your thigh and a whisper of your name.

“Thank fuck I thought you stopped breathing for a second,” Ellie sighs and you shift your position feeling a crick in your neck from how you rested it. Ellie sat on one end her legs crossed on the cushion while you were more splayed out on your end.

“Where’d they go?” You grumble rubbing your eyes and wincing from the soreness in your shoulder when moving it.

“Uh Tommy went to go get you some food from the mess hall and Joel went to get you painkillers for your shoulder and something for your fever,” Ellie explains fiddling with the comic in her hands. She felt a lot of pressure on her shoulders being responsible for someone much older than her. Joel basically telling to keep an eye on her and no matter the circumstances ‘Don’t Let Her Leave.’

You cough and a flare of dryness in your throat and you reach for the glass finishing the water lubricating your vocal cords, “I’m fine…” Your hands gripping the couch and trying to push yourself to stand.

“No no no. Joel said you have to stay here until they get back. You shouldn’t have been outside anyway with your injuries.” Ellie rises to her feet and grabs your arms pushing you back onto the couch a groan coming from you. “Sorry! But I can’t let you leave.”

“You’re an asshole.” You hiss your one moment of energy gone once return to the couch. “Whatever keeps you there, I’m gonna get you more water. Don’t move.” She says pointedly grabbing your empty glass she walks backward making sure you’re in her sites before bolting for the kitchen to get you more water. In the few seconds she’s gone you contemplate getting up and trying to leave but your body wins out on your mind shutting down in exhaustion.

“Alright, more water for you.” She holds it out and you accept it with a grunt, “You’re welcome.” Rolling her eyes she returns to her spot silence between the two of you before she speaks up.

“How did you get those burns on your arms.”

“No.” A tense air covers the living room and you can see Ellie fidgeting in the awkward tension and the coldness that came from you from just one word.

“I just thought…I don’t know if it’s good to talk about things. Joel says it isn’t healthy to keep things to yourself, though when I tell him shit he just scolds me and gets made like it wasn’t my fucking fault,” She kinda goes off track before refocusing, “I’m just saying maybe talking about it to someone who may get you. Instead of an adult that’s just gonna be annoying and berate you.”

“You’re like twelve though?” You say and she smacks your leg with her comic, “Fuck you I’m sixteen! You’re only two years older.” You smirk a light chuckle leaves you and Ellie has a look of shock.

“You just laughed? I’ve never heard you fucking laugh!” She gets all excited as you take of sip of your water, “And you’ll never hear it again.”

“Come on! You didn’t even crack a grin at my joke book and you know those were fucking funny.” She points her finger at you before leaning back against the arm of the couch. Your finger circles the rim of the glass your nails broken your skin littered with tiny cuts are fading scars.

“You can ask questions,” Ellie perks up, “But if I don’t want to answer you don’t push it. Got it.” It was a tiny step of her learning about you but she was taking it and running with it.

“Promise! Alright alright!” She fixes herself to be fully facing you an excited grin on your face.

“What’s your favorite color?”

Whatever time passed since Joel and Tommy left Ellie learned as much as she could from your favorite color even though you said you didn’t have one and she said everyone has one until you said orange like sunset orange, you were born in the summer though it took you a while to figure out when you were born, your favorite food being the chocolates Ellie gave you when you first met which lead her to run to the kitchen to grab them the two of you nibbling on them as you spoke, you told her you used to read when you were a kid taking as many books as you could in the QZ school library and during your travels to the cabin to keep you entertained the cabin having your ‘collection’ of books you found. It got to deeper questions that the light air took a different path.

“So how long were you in that cabin before Tommy and Jesse found you?” Ellie asks leaning her arms on her knees with interest.

“I found that place when I had just turned seventeen so it was still warm but it was going to start getting colder soon. I was with people for a bit before I left them. They found me and took me with them…they were Fireflies.” That piece of information has Ellie sitting up straight hearing the rebellion group she was closely connected to.

“You were a Firefly?” She asks and you shrug, “I didn’t believe and still don’t believe in that whole ‘Look for the Light’ bullshit. They didn’t kill me when I stumbled upon their base, they kept me alive and let me stay with them.” They could have killed you, you were just a kid with no benefits for them but they spared you. Kept you alive in this fucked up world.

“Why did you leave?” She asks. Had they come across people you knew when you were traveling? Ellie could tell Joel that you were a ‘Firefly’ maybe he’d met you before during their travels. Maybe Marlene knew of you or maybe Tommy might she was sure Joel mentioned Tommy being a Firefly once.

“Place got attacked. I’m not sure who it was but I didn’t have any ties to them. I wasn’t fighting in a dying rebellion so I left and found myself tired and bleeding at that cabin.” You say. You remember that quiet, the peace that was there in that building before you heard the pop of bullets, and suddenly people were yelling running towards the fight unaware it was coming straight towards them.

“You got hurt?” Ellie says concern in her voice. “Grabbed whatever I could and ran, whatever group or whoever was there got me. The bullet went right through my calf no matter how fast I ran. I couldn’t outrun them so I just lay there and hoped they thought I was dead.

The pain of the bullet ripping through flesh your body hitting the ground and you just reacted smearing the blood of the dead Firefly next to you and just laid there. You heard the footsteps drawing near until they stopped right before you and for a second you were actually fearful that you would die. You heard the clatter of the empty magazine land inches from your face before whoever was before you looted the Firefly’s weapon and continued on leaving you there. You weren’t sure how long you stayed there until you got up and limped your way out of that building.

“I fixed myself up then just walked until I stumbled up the cabin you know the rest.” You say and it’s quiet before you place the once again empty glass to the side looking at Ellie an unrecognizable look on her face. “You alright?” She quickly looks up the look disappears as well.

“Yeah..yeah I’m good.” She says with a nod and you return one as well, “It wasn’t an easy life but it was my life. I rather deal with the infected. They are predictable I know how they work. But people…the ones still living in this fucked up world. They are the reason I stayed in the cabin.”

It was an understandable reason, infected were easier to read and how to avoid them or to kill them. Humans had different ideas and ways of living, and that made them more dangerous. If it wasn’t for a fungus infecting a majority of them we all would have killed each sooner or later.

“All these years who taught you to survive…who looked after you in the QZ? Where were your parents during all of this.” The shock in your veins just from the mention of the two people who created you, mainly the one who was in your life.

“You think I’m going to look after an ungrateful fucking brat?!”

With the slam of that glass bottle, the chips and cracks form just waiting for the one moment when it explodes when slammed just hard enough.

The smell of the smoke would cloud the house, making your eyes water, and your lungs tight begging for fresh air.

Your skin burns as the stick is held against your skin. Screams and pleads blare in your head.

“This is all your fault!”

“Pass.”

Where the Wild Things Are Tags

@ashisabitgay @bobbypickl3 @christinamadsen @clovergray @cozyphine @daemontargaryenwhore @darthrue @daughterofthequeen @ellistyle @fictional-character-whore @gods-menace @kitdjarin1 @lorenaloveslewis @lovelyygirl8 @lunawants @maelartasch @marvelandhamilton @minaridior @oscarissac2099 @poetoflawed @queenofthekill @rhaenyramistress @scoliobean @stargurl99 @stickthegremlin @supernerdycookietrashblrr @todoroki-simp @ucannotcompare @wife-to-pedro-pascal @your-shifting-gurl

If your name is crossed out tumblr won’t let me tag you for some reason. Sorry :(

#the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us hbo #joel miller #joel miller x platonic!reader #joel miller x teen!reader #joel miller x reader #ellie williams #ellie williams x platonic!reader #ellie williams x teen!reader #ellie williams x reader #tommy miller #tommy miller x platonic!reader #tommy miller x reader

[heartilywrites]

❝ In every universe ; H. Callahan

next >

cw: mention of death, angst, spider-verse references, swear words, just spider!hazel being a dork too!

word count: 2.5k

a/n: heiya!! this is my first post ever, I just had an idea of spider!hazel and wanted to share it with y'all!!! hope u like it ♡ I'm sorry if there's any mistake, english is not my first language!

“𝓞kay! let's do this one more time. My name is Hazel Callahan, I was bitten by a radioactive spider and for a year and a half I've been the one and only Spider–Woman. I'm sure you know the rest. ”

⠀Hazel was running.

Hazel was running late to the fight club, third time this week.

Can you blame her. . .? Maybe. Let's see, she finished her last class on time, hell, she was 5 minutes early out of school; so she thought, —why not going out to kill time while the fight club meeting started?— but oh, Hazel. . . she should stayed inside.

Three minutes after stepping foot outside a scream was heard followed by a explotion and a very familiar laugh, the brunette made a tiny tantrum before running to a nearby alley and change to her suit.

So now it made sense why she was with her mask between her teeth while she's shoving her suit in that old brown backpack her mother gifted her when she was around fourteen.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “What the fuck, Hazel?” PJ spoke when the girl came through the doors, everyone's eyes on her now. “We promised to be punctual, who do you think you are to be this late? Spider–Woman?”

Hazel laughed a bit too loud due to her nervousness, the action made the other brunette frown a bit before letting her in. She started speaking again.

To her fortune, no one asked why she was all bruised up and had some fresh cuts in her face, for what they knew, Hazel was still going to taekwondo. Or at least, that's what she told everyone, also, she was a purple belt! According to her, again, but she has been a purple belt since dropping taekwondo.

Callahan made her way to the group, noticing one more new face and ... wait, was tha–?

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Punishment for coming late, newbie and Hazel. Let's go!” PJ talked again, making the latter jumped on her place looking back at the girl who just smiled with malice.

Once both girls were set up one infront of the other one Hazel called your name with confusion and you just looked like you were about to cry. “You know each other?” asked Josie just as confused.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Yeah, we. . . we were best friends since kids, but she had to move out when we were fifteen. When did you–” Hazel was cut off by your fist hitting her nose.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Oh! Newbie can fight!” PJ laughed at the scene just witnessed. “Defend yourself, Hazel!”

The brunette looked shocked at what just happened, but was fast to attack back.

Now, Hazel was known to be a great fighter; the spider bite made her be more cautious about other people's way to attack, but she just couldn't figure you out. Her. . . uhh, she calls it intuition, so; her intuition has been all over the place making her being attentive of everything since she saw you. It's like she has the answer on the tip of her tongue, but couldn't say it.

On the whole gym the sound of Callahan's body hitting the ground made an echo. Your knee was on her torso and both hands holding hers, she looked as shocked as she was at the beginning.

Everyone clapped; shocked, confused, surprised and really excited (PJ, obviously).

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Alright, that's enough of seeing Haze getting her ass kicked.” Josie stood up laughing a bit nervous. “We should continue with the next couple.”

You didn't make a sound, just took Hazel's hand to help her stand up and make your way back to your sit and watched the next pair, the latter just sat on her own side with that a frown.

When the practice ended, everyone sprinted out of the gym leaving you and Hazel alone for the first time. Once you notice that, panic began to rise in your system.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Hey. . .” that sweet voice you didn't thought you'll hear again rang in your ears. “It's nice to see you. . . I missed you.”

Your breath stopped in your lungs and both hands moving to collect things stop as well. “It's nice to see you too. . .” your own voice came out with a little shake. “I– you look great. . . And happy.”

A really weak smile started to make its way into your face when you turned around and for the first time in the lapse of two hours you were there your eyes met hers with calm. She was smiling big at you and didn't give you time to think before her arms were around your body with a tiny laugh.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Oh, god! I have so much to tell you!” she exclaimed with the excitement a child would have, after some time, the hug broke. “When did you arrive? Why didn't you call me? We need to go back to that one café! You know, that girl keeps asking fo—” Hazel's words were cut off when both of your arms were around her hugging her body, almost crushing her ribs. “Shit, you got stronger ... Are you okay?”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Yeah, no, I'm sorry.” a sniff sounded from your side “I just needed one from you.” now your head nodded.

Hazel was about to talk when both of you felt your "tingles" —oh, some Hazel is going to be pissed when she finds out that other people call it that.— started to alert.

Your best friend not knowing how to make an excuse was so close to run away without a word before you took her hand.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Don't ask, I know you're spider–woman, we need to leave now.” you said almost pleading, taking advantage at the fact that it was only the both of you, you undressed quickly staying in your spider suit as well. Hazel looked like she was about to pass out.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “YOU–” she cut off herself after realizing she was yelling. “You're spider–woman too!?”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I don’t have time to explain right now, Haze! Please, just follow me, I– we need your help.” An answer came from your way while looking for your mask and put it on.

As if she could feel your exasperation, Hazel was quick to run under the benchs to get herself ready, while you watched if anyone came in. Once she was full-on suit, without talking you guided the way.

There was a job you needed to do before leaving. It was supposed to be an in–and–out job, no distraction, no waste of time, just the reason why you were sent to that dimension and then: continue to another assignment.

But your destination point was so near to the same school you went on your dimension and thought maybe of visiting, knowing your heart was aching for something else.

As soon as the both of you arrived to the scene you turned to Hazel. “Alright, listen, this is the plan.” your voice sounded a little muffled because of the mask, but was clear enough for her to hear.

There was a villain who didn't belong to that earth and you were assigned to take him back to the quarters so they could send him back to his dimension.

Once your best friend understood the plan it was time to execute it.

You were not going to lie, Hazel and you made a pretty good team together. Swinging in harmony, having the best unspoken communication about who made which punches first or who was doing the distraction and who was the attacker.

She improvised a bit, making it easier for the both of you to capture and kick the bad guy through a portal you open with your tools.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “That was awesome!? Where did you learn to fight like that!?” An excited Hazel talked while taking her mask off, a big smile in her face and messy bangs were covering her eyes, you smiled a bit.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “It came with the bite, didn't it?” You answer while brushing a bit your hair, a couple of steps were taken and now you brushed Hazel's bangs so you could see her eyes. “Uhm, the organization taught me.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “What organization? The one you sent that stupid thing to?” She asked making air signals with her hands about the portal which was closed by then, now you laughed shortly and nodded.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Here, let's sit and I'll talk to you about it.” you said while climbing to the nearest roof and sitting yourself with your legs crossed, Hazel was quick to swing herself up and sit by your side.

You talked about everything; about how you were from another dimension, how you worked with spider–people from everywhere —fact that made Hazel very happy, feeling that she wasn't the only one anymore.—, your assignment, why you were the one to get that assignment and about the next one.

Hazel listened with glowing eyes like a kid when they see something they want, between her hands she took one of yours and was playing with it, both of them were in your suits. Your suit and Hazel's were almost the same, that made your heart feel warm somehow; while yours was red and black with some golden straps on your upper arms, Hazel's was red and blue with the same upper arms detail, but it was black.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “So. . . Can I join?” she asked after some minutes of comfortable silence where you both were looking to the hands holding.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “That's not up to me, sunny.” you called her nickname making Hazel remember your childhood together. “I was not supposed to look for you, actually, I was order to do it alone.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Then. . . why did you?” instead of sounding mad or annoyed, she sounded curious.

You took a couple of minutes before answering.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I needed to see you. . . At least in another dimension.” your sight turned blurry because of the tears. “I lost you in mine.”

The other girl's face was full surprise, she didn't speak nor asked for clarification, instead she move as close as the anatomy would allow the both of you.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “In my dimension I didn't move away, I convinced my parents to stay here.” you began to say, wiping away tears streaming down your face. “We were happy, then I got bit by the spider instead of you and became spider–woman.” a bitter laugh came out from your throat.

~ “I was scared to death about the new powers, but you assured me that it was a good thing, that you were going to be by my side all the time.” a deep breath was heard and now Hazel hugged you from your shoulders, you almost melted. “We started to date. . .”

It was there where Hazel felt her heart skipped a beat when having a reminder of those feelings that didn't vanished with your moving, a blush starting to burn in her cheeks and ears.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “We had plans, a lot of plans for the future, together.” That part sounded more like you were talking by yourself instead of saying it to her. “And I got this piece of shit terrorizing the city at the time and I said, I should go, take him down and come back home for our anniversary date.”

The girl with short hair knew where that was going by the way your voice filled with hate and you started to shake.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “You said you wanted to help, he was fucking some machines that needed to be turned off before taking the whole city out and I thought that maybe if I took you there you will be safe, you will turn the machines off and I'll meet you outside the building so we could go to the dinner.” An almost incontrollable tremble in your voice made an appearance.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Darling. . .” Hazel's voice called out, you shook your head.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I could have saved you if I. . . if he didn't saw you trying to turn off the machines.” You ignore the call, taking another deep breath. “After you died I killed him.” You shrugged, Hazel made a pout. “I'm sorry, I just–”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Don't apologize, moony.” she was quick to cut you off. When she said your nickname, a face full of tears was what she saw in you. “It's not your fault, please, know that.”

She gave you a tiny squeeze while you looked for shelter between her arms with your face in her neck.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “You know, I did liked you when you were still here. . . Well not you you, your other you. . . My you?” Hazel frowned confused at her own comment, you laughed. “I always thought what could happened if you never left. . . I think I have the answer now.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Oh, god, don't talk about it. I always thought what could happened if I did move away.” you stood up again now to look to the girl, who was blushing a bit still. “Thank you, Hazel. . .”

And another comfortable silence was upon you two. One of Hazel's hand made its way to you cheek, wiping rest of tears. There it was, that war between eyes that you missed from Hazel, but definitely what she did next took you by surprise.

Her lips met yours in a kiss, the sweetest kiss you felt since your girlfriend left your side. The feeling of letting yourself go and fuse with the girl against you was strong, that feeling of holding her and never letting go again, the impulse of forgetting that you needed to go back to report so you could continue with the work.

Both mouths moving in synchronization, as if they were made for each other since the beginning. Your arms hugging her neck to get her as close as possible.

And then your communicator interrupted the interaction, with a groan you separated yourself from her and look at the bracelet on you wrist.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Fuck!” you exclaimed while realizing they were looking for you. As if someone took you by the ear, you stood up in your feet and look at Hazel with sorrow. “I have to leave. . .”

As those words left your mouth, she stood up by your side and took your hands. “Am I. . . Are you going to come back?”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I don’t know, Haze. . .” you said in a sigh, while hearing the characteristics sound of portals from the organization you stole a kiss from her. A really needy one, a goodbye one. “Hope you're happy, baby, you deserve it.” a whisper came out of you as soon as you started to back away from her without looking away from her eyes. “I love you, Hazel, in every universe.”

Behind you a portal open, you knew it was your mentor looking for you. You gave her a last sight before waving and jump into said portal and as soon as she lost you from sight, the portal closed.

Hazel stood there completely shocked at everything that happen, a feeling of emptiness filled her soul. Looking down her hands she spotted a bracelet, the one you were wearing, her eyes opened with surprise.

Should. . . Should she try?

next part !!

#hazel callahan x reader #hazel callahan #bottoms 2023 #bottoms movie #spider!reader #spider!hazel callahan #hazel bottoms #ruby cruz

[thebadboyfanclub]

We’ll Finish This Later (Daemon x Reader)

So as we all know I have put on pause Daemon for a while but I am however opening the requests for Otto Hightower (shut the hell up I don’t want to hear it) and of course all the others are also active, also comments, likes and reblogs are deeply appreciated I want to know what you guys think of my imagines. Enjoy!

Queen Alicent loved all her children, truly and fiercely, however, she adored her daughter (y/n), the princess had a way with people, she was quite the diplomat from an early age, and her beauty and graciousness took her a step further, everything she did was just added details to any plan she had carefully created in her head.

The flower amongst the dragons as she was called, painted herself as a kind girl, gentle and rather gullible, it couldn’t be further from the truth, she had inherited her grandsires cunningness, the firstborn from queen Alicent, the favorite grandchild of Otto, (y/n) was always tending to her father, asking him to join her in the garden, became the cupbearer for his meetings, the perfect daughter.

(Y/n) was the beacon of hope for the greens, a princess that was noble for the common folk, she took great pride in perfecting her duties, she appeared to not possess an ounce of a flaw as she strolled around the castle, hair that went right over her breasts, a tall figure, plump lips, and dark purple eyes, a true Targaryen beauty.

“Such a grim day isn’t it mother? Poor lady Laena”

“Indeed my dearest”

“I feel bad for her two daughters, I do not know what I would do if I lost you”

Alicent felt a tug in her heart at her daughters' vulnerable confession. Compelled by her emotions the queen wrapped one arm around her daughters' shoulders to bring her close, while the other brushed her hair behind the young girl's shoulder.

“I am not going anywhere my sweet”

“Father is talking with prince Daemon, I should go over to profess my condolences”

“That would be a lovely idea, go on my love I must speak to your grandsire”

(Y/n) simply nodded before she left her mother's side with the next target being her father and Prince Daemon, fortunately for her, she was quicker than her half-sister who was lurking in the shadows, waiting for the right time to approach was not going to work when another was also on the prowl.

“Prince Daemon, I am sorry if I interrupt but I wish to offer my deepest condolences”

“Thank you dear (y/n), you are very kind”

“I must admit it is pleasant to have you back, father talks about you every day”

“Does he?”

“Of course, it is almost like I grew up with you after countless hours of listening to my father recalls stories of your adolescent years”

Daemon chuckled as (y/n) leaned closer to her father. (Y/n) had the greatest relationship with her out of all her siblings, every morrow she would be the one to wait outside her fathers' chambers so they could walk together and break their fast, she had even named her horse after him.

Daemon was amazed by the woman that was standing before him, last time he had seen her she was a mere toddler, now she was an elegant lady, a true princess. Her dress clung onto her as Daemon's gaze started to work its way down, although he quickly looked away to mentally cursing at himself for even entertaining such thoughts for the daughter of Viserys.

“I shall leave you two be, I am sure you have a lot to catch up on”

(Y/n) took only one more step before she hesitantly came to a halt, her arms slightly stretched towards the mourning prince, Daemon picked up on her body language as he straighten out his back, (y/n) slowly wrapped her arms around his neck for a brief embrace, once she felt Daemons arms snake around her waist it was when she pulled away.

The moment of physical touch was enough for him to be engulfed by her sweet fruity scent and her soft, delicate touch, once she was out of his grasp her eyes captured him, round and bright like the finest of jewels, and a smile danced along her lips while her cheeks appeared to be painted the slightest of red from their intimacy.

“I will be expecting to see you for supper father”

-

(Y/n) was too smart for her good, she had prepared every detail accustomed to what she wished to achieve, Daemon was certainly a man that enjoyed indulging in the sweet taste of the wine so he had started to drink early in the day.

(Y/n) had managed to wait so she can “coincidentally” meet him on the way to the dinner table, innocently she had requested for him to take her to the ocean.

“I have heard so much about you, yet we have never been properly acquainted”

Daemon had thought nothing of it and agreed, brushing it off as just curiosity for a distant family member.

As dinner came to an end Daemon did as he promised and walked with her to the shore if he was honest (y/n) was pleasant to be around, her light-hearted attitude occupied his mind for a minute, and she guided his focus away from all the drama.

“Did you love lady Laena?”

“We were content within our marriage I suppose”

“Judging from your character that is not something you would be looking for my prince”

“What do you mean?”

“A man like you is not made from the same cloth as my father, you are a man of passion, tension, a dark and lustful desire”

Her voice was slow and erotic, their goblets and two now empty carafes of Dornish wine lay next to them in the sand. Daemon did not have time to react when he realized (y/n) had thrown her leg over him and was now sitting on his lap, her chest touched his, and her legs brushed against his outer thigh.

Daemon's life had done a full circle within a few days, his consciousness could not quite rest as of late, his minding racing with how different his reality would be now.

(Y/n) smirked, the princess had countless attributes however she was known to be stubborn, whatever her heart craved she must have no matter what. Daemon was somewhat baffled, like a deer that was met with its hunter.

“(Y/n)”

“Yes”

She breathed out, her voice only audible to his ears, (y/n) slowly leaned in until her lips met his earlobe, and her hot breath tickled him in the best way possible. Daemon felt her fingertips caress him from his wrist up to his shoulder until he finally gained the willpower to grab her wrist with his one hand and slightly push her away enough to meet her eyes.

“Tell me to stop, command me to leave and I’ll do it, do you want me gone Daemon?”

Her voice was so melodic, as the ocean of waves complimented the sound that escaped her lips his eyes wandered down to them, she was breathtaking, a young, beautiful woman.

Daemon's grip loosened from her wrist and went up so he can allow his thumb to brush over her bottom lip, her sparkling eyes filled with lust, and her breath was hollow while she never broke eye contact, she was challenging him.

Her lips parted and with a blink of an eye, she felt his lips collide with hers for a passionate kiss, he had mastered all his courage and finally let her push him off the edge.

For a maiden (y/n) was quite a sight, she did not seem to care if anyone were to stumble upon their coupling. Daemon only needed to pull his trousers a bit down to earn a hiss from her once he entered, she remained seated on his lap while his one had grabbed a fist full of her and the other wrapped its way around her waist.

“Move like the ocean love”

He guided (y/n) through it, the amount of pleasure she was experiencing made her uncontrollably shake, and her moans danced around with his while their bodies collided, he held on to her for dear life as she as well, her nails dug into his biceps and his pleasure mixed with the pain brought him to a place of ecstasy, the adrenaline of getting caught rushed through both of them.

“Daemon”

“It’s alright love, let it wash you away”

And just like the waves, the sensation of relief with built-up arousal washed through her leaving her completely dry, a mess of a woman that fell in Daemon's arms like a rag doll.

Daemon cackled at her inability to control herself, he could do this all night.

And he did, oh how he thoroughly enjoyed her enthusiasm and thirst for sensual encounters, he kept going until his eyes could not be kept open no matter how hard he tried, the wine had run its course and the tiredness of the act forced him to fall asleep in the sand. (Y/n) saw the first rays of sunshine when she decided it was time for the next part of the plan.

-

Daemon was placed in the eye of the storm the moment he was awoken by the guards his brother had to send for him.

Stupidly he just considered there was a ruckus due to him going missing for a long period, he could not have been more wrong.

The servants report the princess disheveled, tears streaming down her eyes when she burst into the room, lord Corlys, the hand of the king and her father were all there when (y/n) fell on her knees in front of her father.

“I’m so sorry, father please help me”

“What is wrong dear? What has gotten into you?”

“I-I”

“Leave us”

The king instructed. Gently he helped his daughter to sit on a chair, he waited patiently to hear what has caused such despair to make his daughter beg for forgiveness.

Viserys was furious, his brother took advantage of his daughter once again, he had defiled her, and ruined her reputation, he was certain that within the girl's delirium, she did not consider the whispers of the servants that had crossed her path on the way here.

He could not stay upset at his daughter, the girl cried with such intense hiccups that made Viserys worry about her losing her breath or going into hysteria.

“Please father does not execute me”

“Of course not, I will make this right, go to your room and everything will be fine”

Daemon was oblivious to such an event, so when he sauntered into his brothers' room per his request he was met with a goblet flying at him. Thankfully for the prince, he was quick enough to duck as the goblet graced the top of his head, the sound of it being crashed to the wall was deafening, Daemon's eyebrows raised at his brothers' anger, Viserys was never a man of aggression, to tease such a reaction out of him meant that something horrible had taken place.

“How fucking dare you! With my daughter, again!”

“What?”

“Do not play the fool with me! (Y/n)! at your wife's funeral! Have you no shame?!”

Daemon's blood froze, were they seen? Was she alright? Questions raced through his drunken mind causing even more damage. Viserys wanted to kill his brother on the spot, he had exiled him last time when Rhaenyra swore that nothing had happened between them, and now (y/n) was worried for her own life, he brought his flesh and blood to tears, the image of her burned in Viserys brain, he had crossed the sacred line.

“Brother!”

“No! I do not want to hear your empty excuses, you are a vile man. You will make this right”

“What will you command me to do this time?”

“Your wedding will take place within a fortnight”

“Wedding?!”

Daemon exclaimed shocked which only caused Viserys to be outraged. Viserys slammed his fists on the table as he rose from his seat, after that he pushed his chair away making it crash to the ground, Daemon was reminded of their last encounter, the scandal with Rhaenyra, the knife Viserys had pulled on Daemon's neck, he wisely grew silently as his brother panted.

“We will fly to the red keep and you will wed her, you will rectify your folly and wed her like an honorable man, it is the least you could do after such inappropriate behavior”

-

(Y/n) was on cloud nine when her mother announced the news, she had listened to the whispers of Alicent and Otto about who will the princess wed, it terrified her when she found out some of her grandsires suggestions were incredibly old and ugly men, Daemon was a prince, a handsome man and eligible for a princess.

A knock interrupted her preparations for the ceremony, her mother had accompanied her with her ladies to make sure her daughter was perfect for her wedding, Alicent despised this decision, her precious little girl was marrying a man of such ill behavior, yet she did not express such worries to (y/n), she simply smiled away the pain and did what she owed to do for (y/n)s special day.

“You may enter”

Rhaenyra appeared to everyone’s surprise, most of her family had already paid their respects to congratulate (y/n) for her wedding match, Rhaenyra had grown silent, confined in her chambers or anywhere that was away from her half-sister.

(Y/n) looked beautiful in her wedding gown, which found Rhaenyra like a twist of a knife in her bleeding wound that was created in her heart once the wedding news was announced to her.

“Sister, what a surprise”

“May I have a moment with the princess? Alone”

Alicent waited for her daughter to nod to her before she escorted the servants and herself, once the two sisters were left alone (y/n) took a step down her stool to be closer to Rhaenyra.

“Came to congratulate me?”

“No, I have not, I came to see a mastermind of evilness”

“I do not follow”

“I knew you were capable of a plethora of things, although I would never have guessed you were this desperate”

“Desperate? Sister, you are being cruel for no reason”

“Do not play the innocent act, everyone else has fallen for your acts but you cannot fool me, you were the one that initiated it weren’t you? What did you tell him? Did you promise him that no one will know? Did you strip yourself of all clothing in front of him”

(Y/n) smirked as Rhaenyra was losing her cool composure. Even though the princess was dressed in a wonderful gown (y/n) could spot the dark circles under her eyes, her cheeks sinking in from what she guessed was a loss of appetite.

(Y/n) been at odds with her sister for years now, she did not play the game, she merely paraded herself around and do whatever she wanted, scoffing at strategy and protocols, (y/n) viewed her sisters as utterly dim-witted when it came to life, “you will never win the game if you do not appear to be playing by the rules, be observant, be patient and be careful, then you will be given the crown of the winner”

Her grandsire had once bestowed that advice in one of their lunches that they had privately.

“Oh please, Rhaenyra I am undoubtedly aware of how you wish that all of those vile accusations were true. You cannot fathom the idea that I was just simply better than you”

“Daemon never loved you, he never will, he simply fucked you and then was forced to marry you”

“Is that so? Well then, how do you explain that Daemon paid a visit in my chambers last night, only to give me this lovely present”

(Y/n) had tirelessly worked for the past days to get in Daemon's good graces, to grant him the woman he deserved, a wife that cared for him, a lustful woman that sneaked her way into his chamber to remind him of their heated encounter, the thrill of a worthy opponent with a mind of her own, he was left to only be mesmerized by her, so the night before the big day of their official union he offered a symbol.

When (y/n) opened the small box Rhaenyra was puzzled, for (y/n) that was even more entertaining.

“Princess Alyssa’s hairpiece, prince Baelon had gifted her with it on the night before their wedding, Daemon told me he held on to it until he found his love match”

Daemon was a man that enjoyed freedom, though there was only a handful of people that knew his deepest desire, that was a loyal companion, a trustful confidant.

(Y/n) could be that for him, the salvation in a form of a princess, the balm to soothe his family's wounds, she could offer him everything ever wanted, a family of his own, a life that he was seen as the protector of his offsprings.

“Where did you get that? Daemon would never give this to you”

“I understand your uneasiness about the fact that I won but let us be honest here, you never loved him, you barely even like him, all you care about is that he goes against father's wishes and how you could selfishly make him your puppet so he can do your dirty work, to whisper things in his ear to get him riled up and hide behind his anger, you have been given everything on a silver platter but I would rather die than let you destroy him”

Even though she was whispering her tone was harsh, her face so close to Rhaenyra while her eyes burned holes in her older half-sister. Rhaenyra wanted to get physical, slapping her forever talking to her like that though she knew she would lose the fight immediately if she raised her hand to the princess.

“He will never be happy with you, he will figure out your vile schemes and despise you for it”

“What vile schemes are you accusing me of sister? Daemon is a man grown he wanted to lay with me, our wedding is taking place a fortnight after the incident he could have already escaped to one of the free cities, he is choosing to stay. Daemon is a lot of things but he is not an imbecile? He knows I will love him, I will give him the sons and the family he wants, do not worry my dear, I will make sure I name one of our daughters after you”

Rhaenyra was about to respond when a knock was heard, their heads snapping to the direction of the door before (y/n) called for the person to enter.

Daemon, completely unaware of what has been happening in his future wife's chambers entered to find the two sisters in the room, he grinned at the sight of them having a moment before the young sister would walk down the Sept.

“Am I interrupting?”

“Not at all, I just wanted to share your gift with my sister, could you please place it on my head Rhaenyra?”

Rhaenyra was put between a rock and a hard place, Rhaenyra always felt like Daemon was slipping through her fingers and now she had to watch him get married to her little half-sister while she rot in a loveless marriage with a man that was not even interested in women making her reside to the arms of the commander of the city watch.

She mastered up the courage to put her pride and mighty yearning for Daemon aside to ever so gently place the beautiful piece of jewelry on (y/n)s head, bitterly she recalled the time that Daemon would bring her all sorts of stuff from his travels, however, none of them were from his mother, “what does (y/n) have that I don’t?” She thought as tears welled up in her eyes that she batted away.

“You look beautiful, I should give you two some privacy”

“No it’s alright, I just wanted to take one good look at my bride before the ceremony, if I stay here for any longer I don’t think I will be able to restrain myself”

He joked making (y/n) giggle. The bride simply forgot Rhaenyras existence in the room when she marched for Daemon's arms, his hug felt like the safest place on earth to her while Daemon could swear he was wrapping his arms around the most valuable thing in the world as he exhaled with her wrapped around him the entire weight was lifted off of his shoulders.

“There are probably looking for me, I must go”

“Alright, we’ll finish this later”

“That we will”

He promised in a hushed note before placing a kiss on the top of her head. That’s when Rhaenyra felt it sink in, (y/n) was right, she had won.

Requests are open!

#daemon targaryen x y/n #daemon x reader #daemon targaryen #daemon x y/n #daemon targaryen fanfic #daemon targaryen fanfiction #daemon #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen fic #daemon targaryen headcanon #daemon targaryen imagine #daemon au #daemon targaryen x oc #daemon targaryen x you #hotd daemon #daemon prince #hotd fanfic #hotd #hotd fic #hotd imagine #hotd x reader #house of the dragon #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon x reader #hotd season 1