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targaryenrealnessdarling · 6 months

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The Green Prince | Bluebeard!Aemond x Wife!Reader

-Based on the Fairytale 'Bluebeard'- Halloween Special!

Summary: Six wives before her mysteriously disappeared, and someone in Dragonstone calls for her once her new husband entrusts her with his master key | Word Count: 8k~ | Warnings below the cut~

Links to my Taglists: General Taglist | Aemond Targaryen Taglist

Warnings: dub-con, arranged marriage, victorian england setting, era-typical sexism, murder, uxoricide, blood, toxic behaviour, apparitions/ghosts, manipulation, threats of violence

She's heard only tales of Aemond Targaryen.

The Green Prince of Dragonstone. A wealthy gentleman who often stayed within the confines of his estate.

When she abandoned the frills and wide smiles of girlhood, thrust into the pomp and practice of womanhood, that is when the stories began.

She had never seen him. And she began to believe, that the people around her who spoke of him never had either.

They were of a decent background, her and her family. Not overwhelmingly rich. But well-off is what her father always said.

Enough to employ a small army of servants.

Enough to never have to worry about the troubles of daily life that so often would hinder an everyday individual.

She doubted Aemond Targaryen ever had to worry about that either.

One fact that simply could not be frayed, was that he was royalty.

Only in the sense that he was utterly untouchable.

He had this elegance about him, they would say, a sort of curious exoticisim from the way his long, silver hair would drift down his back, to the way his inhuman purple eyes would glimmer, half lidded and looking straight ahead, as if he were piercing a knife through the individual with his gaze alone.

Though they were technically neighbours, she saw very little life pass through the iron gates of Dragonstone. His estate so vast, that by foot, she would have to commit a whole hour to simply brush by the border of what she deemed was a forbidden land.

There seemed an aura of darkness over it, that she could not quite comprehend. But one that intrigued her all the same.

Last year, at the same time as now, she had been considered a child. No better for company than being banished upstairs to dwindle about her books and writings, out of the way of adults and their serious business affairs.

What had really changed in 12 months, that they now considered her a woman?

She felt age had little to do with it.

She felt that she had been grown in her mind for some time, and had actually changed very little from the age of three and ten.

But now, at the tender age of nine and ten, there was still a girlish nature about her face. A brightness to her eyes, and a plumpness about her cheeks. One that her mother had once commented that men would find appealing in a wife.

And so here she was.

Dressed in her finery, a glass of wine in a crystal glass delicately placed in one hand, she stood beside her eldest brother, who had torn himself rather blatantly from a woman he himself was courting in favour of supporting his sweet, youngest sister.

"Do not, for the love of our mother, allow yourself to be approached by Mr Gardner. He has had five servants in as many months. I am sure you can understand why", her brother mused with a contented chuckle.

She did not know why. Nobody had told her plainly.

Sometimes she wished people would just be honest with her. And not assumed she knew the inner workings of people's minds, after years of being shut away upstairs by her parents and brother alike.

The foyer and adjoining rooms alike were filled with people, all pretending to make pleasantries with each other. And as the night dragged on, several well known bachelor's having tried their hand at impressing her, she found her glass of wine was not as endless as she thought.

When a servant had spotted her, appearing at her side to refill her glass, she had turned her body sideways and locked eyes, finally, with him.

The one people affectionately named, The Green Prince.

Like most of the men tonight, he was dressed in a suit with a long overcoat that covered his dark green waistcoat. So dark were the colours of his outfit, that they almost appeared black, like the rest of it.

His hair was loose, with a few strands falling to the front over his shoulders, and as her eyes trailed up to his pale collar, where a tie was loosely wrapped about his neck, she saw that when she met his gaze, he was already looking at her.

He held his glass in a manner most unbecoming. Hanging at his side, his long fingers grasping the edges so delicately, she was sure for a moment it was floating in his hold.

His finger, she noticed, tapped idly at the side of the room, as if deep in thought as he looked upon her.

She saw his gaze drop to her outfit, one that her mother had chosen for her. A red, almost burnt tea coloured dress, with very little flounce and fancy to it. The collar hung delicately at her shoulders, the bodice tight and the only detail of any colour was in the stitching of her skirt, which he noted was a shimmering gold.

When he lifted his eyes, he took a sip from his glass, still almost filled to the top, his burning lilac gaze hovering over the brim. She sucked in a breath, her own eyes flitting over his face. And to the patch that covered the left eye.

She didn't know why her chest felt tight, and why she hoped suddenly for the appearance of her brother. Or her father perhaps. He was staring at her so unabashedly, that for an unmarried woman such as herself, she would be looked upon with immense judgement if she were found to be staring back at him in the same manner.

Knowing his gaze was burning at the back of her head, perhaps tracing the intricate pattern of braids her hair had been styled in, she decided to ignore him, until he had the decency to approach and introduce himself to her properly.

As any good gentleman would.

She meandered through the menagerie of figures, careful to keep her wine close to her so that she wouldn't repeat the same embarrassment as last year when she spilled the entire glass down Mr Bray, whose wife near lost her voice with incessant shouting.

Her father, ever cheerful, as rich men so often are, materialised at her side, grasping her elbow and tugged his daughter close to him. His breath smelled like red wine as he whispered to her.

"It appears you have captured the special attention of Mr Targaryen, daughter"

Her father chuckled when her wide, terrified and yet curious eyes met his.

How could she have captured his attention, when she had done nothing at all? She thought.

She did not yet know, the charms that the appearance of a female body could offer. And how it could transform a respectable man from a pillar of society, to a hungry, lustful beast at a moment's notice.

"I shall introduce you to him" her father insisted, leading her along at his side, despite her quiet protests.

"But father-"

"Hush now. Remember your manners".

His tone of voice was enough.

She had not experienced it as a mere female. But she had seen first hand what her father did to her brother when he disobeyed. Finding a sort of punishment worthy at the end of his cane as it cracked against her brother's palm.

Her brother still wore gloves often. That was his shield.

She had yet to find her own.

Perhaps hers was in her mind, she thought. That she might be able to protect herself with her ideas and opinions, twisting the minds of men, as her elder sister had said once, to suit the needs of the women they owned.

She often had to remind herself, she was property. And could easily be bought and sold, and kicked to the roadside if she had done something to mar her family name.

She was thrust into a sort of social assassination once again once stood before the famed Mr Targaryen, who nodded his head in greeting but said nothing.

"My Targaryen. What an honour it is to have you here. Please might introduce my daughter"

He bent somewhat at the hip, his hand moving to grasp hers, the skin soft and feminine.

"The pleasure is all mine, Miss"

His voice was like the purr of a cat. And though terrifyingly intriguing, she couldn't find it in herself to look away.

"And to you, Sir. Many thanks for the invitation" Aemond turned towards her father, giving another barely existent nod of his head, his expression flat and almost bored.

"It is no problem at all, Mr Targaryen. Please accept my condolences on the passing of your wife"

Late wife?

She felt rude to ask, so said nothing.

Aemond seemed to understand her curiosity, and gave a light smirk in her direction, though she was on his blind side.

"Thank you, Sir. It was a great tragedy indeed"

"Indeed" her father repeated, leaning forward as if to emphasise the size of his empathy for him, "I understand she was quite distressed for some time, was she not?"

She almost passed her father a warning glance. Thinking it rather rude for him to say such things about his late wife. Whether she may have been mad or not.

But Aemond merely nodded.

"Indeed. I am afraid, however, it was an inevitable accident"

Accident.

She of course, remembered hearing the gossip, and hearing her father read the newspaper every morning. An update about the mad Alys Rivers at the top of the page every time.

Alys Rivers, the Lady of Dragonstone, found dead in God's Eye Lake. A wound to the neck spells suicide.

A wound to the neck was a kind description.

Her pale skin was said to be slashed open on one side, everything visible within. And once the water had got to her, she was swollen, pale and blue, completely drained of blood. Almost entirely unrecognisable.

It was just as well she had no family. They would not have wished to see how she met her end.

The article found it necessary to articulate, that her body had been returned to her husband.

Across the room, another gentleman called for her father, and she felt the hot whips of panic at the back of her neck at the thought of being left alone with Aemond.

"Do excuse me" her father said quickly, disappearing into the sea of black and grey.

She herself turned back to Aemond, not wanting to be rude, and tapped her fingernails on the crystal glass nervously.

"I am very sorry to hear about your wife"

Aemond hummed, one of his hands behind his back like he had a secret.

"Thank you, Miss"

There was a long period of silence between them. And for a while, she wondered if she should be the one to break it.

Aemond laughed lowly, leaning down to her face as he caught something interesting in his sights.

"See your brother?" He murmured. And her face turned as well, not realising at first how close their faces were, but she could not very well pull away without offending him.

All the same, he smelled of sandalwood.

Her eyes followed his, to her brother on the other side of the room, where he was thoroughly embarrassing himself by laughing too widely with the woman he had been courting for several months.

"He is awfully close to that woman, is he not?"

She swallowed, raising her chin to appear more confident as she spoke, "She is to be his intended. It is only natural they speak freely with one another" she reasoned.

Aemond did not move away, his shoulder brushing against her side. It made her shudder.

"He is certainly doing something freely" Aemond hummed deep in his chest, a tone which sent a dull ache through her body.

Her brother leaned in close to the woman. And she watched her blush and throw her head back with a demure laugh, her brother leaning close to run his nose along her neck, grinning against her skin.

It felt forbidden to watch them be so close.

And yet he was so brazen about it.

"She seems to be enjoying herself, at least"

She couldn't find it in herself to reply.

For the woman did appear as if she was enjoying herself. And briefly, stood beside Aemond, his breath softly batting against her neck, she wondered herself, how it would feel if he did the same to her.

She wondered if he was thinking the same thing as her. Sneaking into her mind like a whisper, as if he were being a locked door, and was peering through the keyhole to uncover her darkest thoughts and desires.

Her brother leaned towards his intended, planting a kiss to the column of her neck. And she felt herself parting her lips as the other woman had, not only at the shameless behaviour of her brother, so consumed in wine that he felt no need to appear reasonable in front of other people, but also because she felt Aemond’s slender fingers at her forearm.

It was not at all like the way her father had pulled her to him, in ownership.

Aemond tugged her towards him in a sort of longing, his nose pressing into the plaits of her hair.

“I am going to ask your father for your hand” he whispered, “and he will say yes. And you shall be mine”.

She listened with her fingers wrapped around the wooden pillars of the staircase as her brother shouted obscenity after obscenity at her father. Every now and then her mother would insert her little, sweet voice that was inevitably crushed by the low boom of the two males in the room.

With her gaze planted firmly in her lap, tracing the patterns of the lace of her nightgown as she listened, she thought with a sort of sadness that the offer of marriage should be a joyous and happy occasion. And now in her household, the prospect of her being tied to the Green Prince himself was so offensive to her brother, that he felt the need to fight on her behalf.

Perhaps knowing his sweet sister had no choice in the matter.

“He is barely half a decade older than her and has had six wives in as many years, father!” he boomed, and she could tell by the way his voice bounced off the furniture that he was pacing and throwing his arms around.

“To give her away to that brute. It is unthinkable!”

“Be quiet!” her father roared back, “the wedding will go ahead as planned. We will not get a better offer than this!”

While she was happy, that her brother was trying to stick up for her, it was no use. He nor her had a choice in the matter.

Her father had said it himself.

We will not get a better offer.

Not she.

She was property. Something to be sold and given in exchange for goods or reputation. What she wanted, was of no consequence.

And she couldn’t help but think of her mother, several decades younger than her father, and how she must have felt at her tender age when confronted with the prospect of marrying a man much older than she.

In a way, she felt connected to her mother in that way. But also in a way that she resented her, for dressing her up, plaiting her hair and pushing her out into the rich man’s world, ripe and ready for the taking.

Passing her the torch of a woman’s anguish.

The wedding felt clinical. More akin to a funeral than a union of two people.

Her brother stares dagger into the back of her intended for the entire ceremony. All while her mother cried softly into her handkerchief and her father sat, stoic and silent, his chubby fingers caressing the sculpted ornament on the top of his cane.

She remembered his hands as they were bought together and the officiator had placed a sort of sacred cloth over them as he muttered his prayers. Binding them lawfully and before the eyes of God, for their whole lives.

His hands were large, his palms completely dwarfing hers and his long fingers wrapping around hers like tight vines. And at that moment, she had never felt so small in her life.

And noticed that his side of the wedding chapel, where his family members were supposed to sit and witness their union, was completely empty.

Six wives in as many years.

That is what her brother had said.

She knew Aemond had been married multiple times prior to her, but was her brother merely exaggerating?

In contrast to his hands, where the blood swam warmly through his limbs, his lips where the officiant asked them to seal their union with a kiss, were cold, and not forthcoming. As if he had not asked her father for her hand in marriage, but that this entire affair was so useless and merely for looks, that he’d rather be somewhere else.

That said. She could not escape the intensity of his gaze.

He seemed to focus solely on her, much to her discomfort, to the point where it seemed like he was not listening to a single prayer or hymn that was uttered in the chapel all afternoon. And though her eyes were elsewhere, to try and place the feeling that bubbled in her chest somewhere else, she often found his lilac eye drifting to the details of her necklace, to face, and pausing where she wet her lips nervously.

If he hadn’t possessed such a domineering, strong presence, she thought he would be devilishly handsome.

Perhaps a fact he already knew.

It was unlike her family to have celebrations, so they didn’t.

She gave each of the servants, some who she knew for most of her life a final embrace, thanking them for their hospitality and care where she did not receive it from her parents. And as her luggage was packed meaningfully in the back of Mr Targaryen’s carriage, with two large horses at the front, she gave her brother a tight embrace as well. Inhaling and savouring the musty smell of tobacco on his coat.

He looked saddened, but for the sake of appearances, forced a smile onto his face.

“Good luck, dear sister. Remember you may write to me, even though you are a married woman” he smiled, teasing her softly with a nudge to her shoulder.

She gave a softer hug to her mother, who usually was not keen to shower her with affection. But she supposed, she was the youngest daughter, so it was only natural.

Her father, after having busied himself in an idle chattering session with Aemond, merely tipped his hat, and did not shed one bit of emotion as she climbed into the carriage before her husband. Aemond's hand helped her up the step, watching as she disappeared inside.

The smell of his sandalwood perfumes on his coat was stronger as he sat beside her on the cushion, instructing the handsome, olive-skinned driver to move forward and away from her home.

She only waved to her brother. And watched as he had wet eyes, stepping forward a few paces like he was about to break into a run after her.

The carriage was much nicer than anything she'd seen in her young life, and though they were for all intents and purposes, considered neighbours, it was still a half hour ride to his estate.

Dragonstone.

Her skin prickled at the mere thought of it.

She'd never seen it before. Nor had any of her family.

All she knew was that it was often clouded in fog, that when you stood at the front gates you could barely see the arching towards and dark brick in the distance anyway.

All she had heard was what people said.

That it was a frightful, maze of a place. With winding corridors and crooked doorways, and barely any servants.

He was a rich man, why not employ more?

He did not say a word the entire way home. He only sat, cross legged, and fiddle with his fingers like he was nervous. Turning them over in micro-movements.

Don't speak unless spoken to.

As Dragonstone came into view once they crossed the boundary of the iron gates, she felt her breath taken away.

And it was only when Aemond assisted her with a hand as she stepped down from the carriage that she could really appreciate the sheer size of his estate.

It was so big it was beyond comprehension.

She briefly wondered if she would get lost in such a place.

"Cole will bring your things to our room"

Her heart started to flutter, and pitter patter all at the same time.

Our room.

She had almost forgotten her one wifely duty she was to fulfil this evening.

To appease him.

The thought made a sort of tightness in her belly, though she was unsure why. Of course, her elder sister had divulged her own horror story of her wedding night. Though her sister was twenty and she herself only five and ten at the time, the nitty gritty was of great curiosity to her.

"For several hours the poor thing just cried and it rather spoiled the mood. Turned out that he had…pleased himself the morning of the wedding so as not to become too excited when the evening rolled around.

Oh well, no matter. Instead, when he had a rather excited visitor the next morning he crawled atop me and breathed heavily into my neck while he tried to get it inside me. 'Twas over in an instant dear sister and I did not feel a thing".

Though the anecdote was funny, although awkward seeing as she sat next to her brother-in-law the next morning and tried not to giggle, right now, it did little to quell the gnawing inside her.

Aemond did not seem as quiet and unsure of himself as her brother-in-law was. She doubted a man of his standing would have any issue fulfilling his role as a husband.

As he had done, six times before.

Which triggered yet another question.

Why no children? Surely all six of his previous wives could not have been barren?

Did they commit suicide? Ashamed of themselves for failing to fulfil this task? Were they all mere accidents? Or did someone break in at night to steal his plethora of fine jewels and artefacts and run into one of his unfortunate wives along the way?

It seemed entirely impossible.

She watched Aemond walk confidently to the front doors, where a couple of servants stood to greet the new Lady of Dragonstone. His coat fluttered around his thighs as he turned, the ends of his silver hair hung like they were floating.

"Wife. May I introduce you to the staff. Anything you so wish, please do not hesitate to ask them"

The two servants stood, hands clasped, looking entirely scared stiff. One was a middle aged man with an apron dirtied at the edges, and the other a maid, barely five and twenty, who offered her a polite curtsy.

She simply smiled at them, "a pleasure".

They said nothing.

There was something melancholic. Ancient. And crushing about Dragonstone.

She felt the weight on her shoulders the moment she passed those gates. Did they feel it too?

Did Aemond?

This was the only moment he seemed to smile, as miniscule as it was with a darkened gaze, was when he turned to look at his new wife and nodded.

"If you will forgive me, I have some business to attend to. I will see you tonight for supper"

His expression never wavered, even as he bent at the middle to press his lips to her hand, above the ring he had placed on her finger not a few hours before.

The servants quickly scuttled out of her sight and so she thought to amuse herself by exploring her new home. Out of habit, she started upstairs, going straight to her bedroom to inspect.

There was a large four poster bed made of what appeared to be walnut in the middle of the room, with various ornaments strewn about, but very little to suggest that he actually relaxed in here.

There were no mementos, keepsakes, and she thought briefly she couldn't get a grasp on his personality this way either.

She blushed and felt that tightness again at the thought of sharing a bed with him, of what they might have to do.

The rest of the house was indicative of the first room she ventured to. Lacking a certain personality she was sure existed in her new husband but one he refused to show.

The estate was cold and empty, with flagstone floors stretching along the long dark hallways.

There were so many doors it was difficult to know what on earth could be behind all of them. She'd so far discovered the Library, the Dining Room and even happened upon the scullery rather by accident.

And then, one room…

It had a oxblood red door, worn around the edges and the colour faded somewhat. She noted the scuff marks around the handle and the hinges, as well as the stone beneath the door where overtime, footsteps had worn it down.

So she was doubly surprised to find the door locked.

Curious.

Her skin prickled, and she was sure for a moment that she saw her own misty breath. Like that feeling that someone is watching you but you are too afraid to move an inch. The tips of her fingers suddenly felt numb.

She felt it on her neck, an iciness.

But when she turned, her breath stuck in her chest from panic, she could only see nothing but the empty corridor.

And all was silent.

There was a heaviness in her chest which seemed to pass through her like trying to walk through honey, trying to pull your feet up just an inch to step forward.

And as quickly as that feeling came, it was gone and she turned back in panic once she heard soft, careful footsteps behind the oxblood door.

She clenched and unclenched her fists in fear, trying to reason with herself.

Undeniable footsteps, ones that had started at the threshold and we're now walking slowly away from her.

The blood rushed warmly back into her fingertips, and she rubbed them painfully against her navy dress, trying to will a feeling back into them.

Footsteps…

She only heard her own as she hurried down the corridor again, her shoes clocking against the flagstone.

So desperate to get away from that heavy, morbid feeling that she nearly hurtled right into the young maid.

"My Lady!"

"I do apologise" she uttered immediately, her chest pushing against her bodice with her hurried breath, "I was not looking where I was going".

The maid curtsied, as if she'd forgotten to and straightened, "Supper is to be served, my Lady. May I-"

"What is that room? Down the hall?" She asked.

The maid raised her eyebrows, "Which one, my Lady?"

She turned her head down the hallway once again to point to the one she meant, and her words died on her lips.

The door moved.

It was unmistakable.

The shadow where the door was leant ajar quickly disappeared, and the frame was filled once more by the large wooden slat against it.

There was no click of a lock to be heard.

She was so afraid she lost herself for a moment. Going all pale. So much so the maid had to prompt her.

"My Lady?"

She shook her head, looking back to see if the door would move again, and drift open as it had before.

But it never did.

And the thought that as she was running away before, the door was slowly inching open, scared her beyond belief.

"It's nothing, I apologise" she said quickly, "Supper, thank you".

There was nothing of note for the rest of the evening.

Supper was quiet. And the table was so long with husband and wife sat at either end, that they may as well have been in separate rooms while they ate.

It was nice enough food she was grateful for that. A selection of soups and meats, and breads to fill her belly between courses.

He did not speak.

He barely moved any other muscle than his arm to fork the meat into his mouth. She watched him every now and then, over the barely dancing flame of the candelabra, otherwise the room would be completely dark.

So she drank her wine, and stayed silent. Waiting to be spoken to.

The only thing he said was right at the end.

"Shall we retire for bed, wife?"

And she could not very well say no.

She made brief eye contact with the maid as she followed her husband to the grand staircase, each step feeling heavier and more nerve-wracking than the last.

Her husband was tall, broad and she had no doubt be enjoyed the domineering aura he gave off. Judging by the dark colours of his waistcoat and trousers, as well as the leather eyepatch over one eye, he enjoyed inhabiting darkness.

She thought with some amusement that the only bright things about him were his hair and eyes.

Things he could not change.

He was certainly a marvel of a man. And truthfully, she should count herself lucky that he is at least somewhat close to her in age.

Aemond closed the door softly once they were both inside. The curtains were now drawn, and the room was filled with an amber glow from the candles the maid had lit for them.

She needn't ask him for help, for her new husband immediately stood behind her, and began to unlace her dress as if they had been married an age.

His movements were so sure. And she felt with jealousy of some kind that he had done this with six other women before her.

No wonder he was practiced.

There was no room for romance when to him, it was all just a matter of duty.

She stood only in her chemise, having pulled her hair free of her braids, feeling his gaze the entire time.

"Are you intent on remaining silent, wife?" He asked, and she heard him pull off his waistcoat with every pop of his buttons.

"Or might you become more vocal in the marriage bed?"

She felt her cheeks flush and thickness in her throat. Inadvertently pressing her legs together where a sort of excitement was blooming.

"I could not say…" she answered.

And chuckled lowly, pressing his front to her back, dragging his nose up the side of her neck, just as she had seen before.

She felt something hard press against her backside, his hips pushing it against her and moving softly, creating just a tiny bit of friction.

"Tell me" he muttered, his lips tickling her ear, "tell me what a good wife does"

She was suddenly nervous, thinking about what other people had told her.

And it was increasingly difficult to think, with his large hands pulling her chemise off her body.

"A good wife…is loyal to her husband" she recited, her breath coming in short pants, "she is…loving"

He blew air from his nose, like he was amused.

"..and she is obedient"

"That's it"

Aemond peeled the chemise off her, letting it drift to the floor.

"A good wife makes herself available to her husband"

She gasped and he revelled in it, as he pushed her newly naked body onto the bed, her body sinking into the mattress and watching as her husband bared himself one button at a time.

"Of course. There a many other wifely duties" he grinned.

His fingers moved to his trousers.

"But for now, I only care about this one".

Being touched all over was strange. There was a dull ache in her core when her husband touched certain areas, a feeling that she didn't recognise.

Her confused and somewhat distressed face at the whole ordeal was endearing to him.

Her young, plump face looked up at him with gleaming eyes and shame arched in her eyebrows.

It hurt. Not as greatly as she thought. But it still did.

"Close your eyes. It will be over soon"

She did as he said, turning her face away. But it was not over soon.

His member throbbed inside her, and she thought she'd never felt more full in her life. Since closing her eyes, she could not see the way his hair began to tangle around him, as his hips chased hers and came against hers with a soft smack.

The pain gave way to another feeling still.

That same ache she felt when he'd touched her.

Aemond smirked when he saw the confused, ashamed expression on her face. At the way she pressed her lips together.

"I think you are enjoying this" he murmured lowly, pushing harder into her like he was intent in piercing her stomach, "if I did not know any better, you would almost be moaning".

She didn't want it to feel good.

Or did she.

It felt wrong.

And yet she couldn't deny when he raised her thighs, his fingers wrapped into her flesh, it did feel good.

"Look at me" he whispered, never stopping, "Look at your husband, who is giving you pleasure"

Some excitement sparked inside him, when she didn't do as he asked, her warm embarrassed face pressed into the sheets as much as she could. Her eyes closed.

He laughed when she refused.

"Yes - you feel it, do you not? No need to act all coy. I can feel your body's response"

Shame crept into her body, her limbs going all tight just as he'd said. Feeling herself hit that irreplaceable point, she simply whimpered and felt his length throb once more before he spilled inside of her, releasing all he had to give.

She thought with lewdness, that his spend was warm inside her.

Aemond seemed to take great pleasure in making his wife shrink into herself with embarrassment and shame every time they coupled. He loved that doe eyed look she gave him, as if he did not have his cock buried between her legs every night he could since the wedding.

He would have her any way. Fully clothed if the moment presented itself.

There was something erotic about taking something that looked so innocent and filling her with his spend. How she would act all coy, with it dripping down her thighs.

He delighted in the fact that he had managed to kidnap this sweet young thing, and use her for himself and his pleasure any moment he was able. And the month that passed since the wedding, he could not think of a time that was sweeter.

So it was with great irritation that he was called to King's Landing. Some business with his brother that apparently couldn't wait.

He did not want to leave her.

He spoke firmly, stood before the oxblood door in his travel wear.

"While I am away, you must not enter this room. Do you understand?"

When she nodded without asking why, he smiled in pride and placed the master key in her small palm. Entrusting that she would do as she had promised in his absence.

He thought he'd reward her when he returned, by fucking her in the comfort of their bed sheets, until she was pink in the faxe and begging him to stop. Just as he liked her to be.

As soon as her husband left, she felt even more that she was being watched. All the little hairs on the back of her neck pointed upwards.

The maid kept clear of her, which was nothing unusual. But it was almost as if she was escaping rooms before she herself knew why. As if she knew what invaded the invisible space within them as soon as her back was turned.

Did she hear the voices too? See the dark figures and closing doors?

Anytime she passed the long dark hallway to the oxblood door, she felt her curiosity grow tenfold. But also a sense of dread, heavy in her gut, tugging her back to this wretched place.

What could be behind the door, that her husband wished not for her to see?

In the Library, the fire crackled comfortably as she turned the faded pages of her book. The maid busied herself collecting the dirtied saucers and teacups beside her, humming to herself gently.

The air suddenly went cold around her neck, and a breeze passed, evident by the dangling of her earrings. It was not only her imagination.

"A golden key. Oxblood door. Give the six souls rest, sweet child"

She looked up at the maid, "I am sorry, did you say something?"

The maid straightened and shook her head quickly, eyebrows arched in confusion, "No, my Lady"

Why did the maid always flee like that? Like someone was chasing her? With their claws at her back like an animal in the forest?

The key was ornate, with winding patterns and several notches at the top. And when she held it in her small palm, it felt hot to the touch like an iron rod.

Aemond would punish her.

How? She did not know.

She slotted the key into the door, without the energy to turn it. And her limbs felt heavy, and her knuckles cold, like someone was pushing on it. Forcing her will.

"That's right. Insert the key into the keyhole, and turn…"

A voice echoed off the stone.

A low, sweet, mature voice.

Click.

The oxblood door gave way to light, torches lit at every corner, illuminating the oxblood colour of the floor before her.

A step down.

The floor rippled like liquid.

"Our souls…"

Her shoe was slick with something oily that clung to the suede. Irreparably staining them.

Her skin prickled. Vomit bubbled at the back of her throat.

Six torch-lit figures reflected in the blood on the flagstone floor.

Hung, wrists bound over their head. White skulls in various stages of deterioration, with strings of what was once luscious hair drifting past their bony shoulders.

She saw with dread, they were still wearing dresses that hung off their ivory skeletons.

She was sure she collapsed with grief, a scream echoing around her that did not feel like her own. The only sound she registered was the clanging of the key as she dropped it in shock, blood of Aemond's ex-wives enveloping the brass.

Her throat felt sore.

She watched their empty eye sockets. The dust over their bound hands and their feet as they dangled inches off the floor.

Breath hot in her lungs like she was clinging to life as she knew it, she scrambled for the key and pulled the door shut behind her with a mighty boom.

Darkness crawled up her skin, now that she knew what was behind it.

Was this her fate?

If she displeased him, would she be their successor?

She was sat, with head in hand, in a state of complete distress with sweat on her brow and neck as Aemond returned.

She had paced the room for hours she felt, wringing her hands, as if to find what she might say to him on his arrival. He'd see it on her face.

He would know she had seen the corpses of his precious wives on her soft, innocent features. Scarred forever by death.

His tall, broad form filled the doorframe. And he dropped his coat onto the bed with a tired huff, but said nothing.

She almost wished he would say something. To spare her this horrible anticipation.

But she watched as he took two careful steps in. His one eye flitting over to the key he'd left her on the bureau.

The blood had not lifted from the brass. She could not wash it. No matter how much time she committed to it, it would not become clean.

Her husband looked back at her like she was something to eat, his eye half open with only half his iris visible.

She sobbed and cried when he advanced and held her to the wall by her neck with ease, slamming her small body against it.

"You thought you would get away without punishment, hm?"

She sobbed like a child, her tears wetting her cheeks and neck, to his fingers. Her own tried to pry his away, feeling that he was hurting her effortlessly with his grip around her throat.

"Please…husband…"

He could have laughed.

"Now is no time for begging. Tell me, how should I punish you, wife?, he grinned widely, his tone low and condescending as he spoke to the small woman before him.

"Please…you may do as you like with me - just first, let me pray-" she begged with a hoarse, tired voice. Never feeling that she could be scared of him in this way.

He pulled his head away, looking down at her past his nose, his lips tight.

She felt his grip loosen, but the places where his fingers had been were sore and red.

"I shall do as I please. But since you asked so nicely to pray. I shall let you"

She felt herself breathing like she was swallowing fire a she stepped out the door, allowing her privacy to pray before he inevitably drove a dagger through her, or something of the like.

She rushed to the master key and locked the door with a quick slam and click, locking her husband out and flinching when his palms pushed with urgency on the other side. Rapping on the wood like an animal who couldn't see their prey.

She had no intention of praying.

"Open this door! Now!"

Her eyes scanned the room anxiously and with urgency. She felt her fingers shaking as he pushed the window open, looking down at the great height she would have to jump to escape him.

A sure death.

She clambered over the bureau, her knees knocking painfully on the wood as she advanced in a panicked state towards the ledge.

Her brother.

If she could just escape to him.

He would save her.

A clang of metal rattled against the floor as her husband, as strong as she was, sent the door flinging off the hinges. His large arms wrapped around her waist as she writhed, fearing her life. Expecting a blade to her neck. Or perhaps to be dragged to the oxblood door, to never return.

"Husband - please - have mercy-"

"It is too late for 'please'. It is time for you to feel the consequence of your actions"

She struggled so much, he tackled her to the floor, holding both her forearms behind her back in one hand, pushing her front to the cold stone floor, her warm cheek moulding to the pattern of it.

"I beg you - have mercy and kill me quickly-"

Her tears wet her face entirely, feeling his body over her back, pressing his hips into her backside, letting her feel his wrath.

"Mercy?" He chuckled darkly, "why would I show the likes of you mercy?"

"You who I have treated with care and respect. You who has disobeyed me"

"My Lady shall learn this lesson now"

His voice was dark and low, and it scared her more than the whisperings of the paranormal and the sight of what was behind the oxblood door.

She panicked with a warm face as he rucked up her skirts to her waist, flinching when she felt two of his thick fingers swipe across her hot centre while he continued to hold her down.

"I do not often take pleasure in teaching my wife a lesson. But, for you, I shall make an exception"

She pressed her lips together, not wanting to anger him with her whimpers and whines as she felt him slide his trousers down and rub his hot, throbbing member, ready and waiting for her, against her cunt, collecting her wetness on his length for ease of entry.

He sighed longingly, his breath tickling her neck, his eyelashes fluttering against her jaw.

She choked on her breath as he slid into her, his fingers holding her hips desperately to widen her legs to accommodate him deeper inside her.

"None of them were worthy - fucking none of them -" he breathed, his breath hitching with each soft smack of his hips against her, stretching her walls to the shape and size of him and groaning at the way her hot insides parted.

"Do you wish me to give you a child, hm? None of them - fuck - none of them could give me what you do-"

She whimpered, feeling his length fill her repeatedly and bully the end of her, each blow against that rough spot inside increasingly making her shame and despair at his use of her body ebb away into a forbidden and unknown feeling.

"If you do not behave, you will not be allowed that pleasure" he muttered, his breath coming in short bursts, his thrusts as well becoming sloppy and unconfident.

Her gut warmed with his length piercing her insides. And she felt as though she was missing something he was telling her in his own way. Eyebrows arched in confusion.

Even now, while he fucked her on the floor, she felt afraid for her life.

"Oh, little one, I am almost disappointed that it took so long for you to realise that I do not intend to kill you.”

Her wet eyes cracked open to turn her head in discomfort to him. Her cheek rubbing against the stone floor as he pulled her hips up to fuck her deeper.

"No. You shall give me children. Many of them if you wish to please me"

She tightened around him completely out of instinct, and Aemond groaned loudly above her, pushing his chest so hard against her back she felt she might break.

And her hands clenched into fists, absentmindedly pushing her hips back to him to chase the remnants of that sweet rapture she was sometimes awarded when coupling with him.

A sweet escape from this prison.

He laughed, when he realised that she was quite resigned to her fate.

That she, compared to his other wives, was finally worthy of giving him children. Of satiating his desire to dominate a woman so easily. How he enjoyed watching the look of shame and pleasure on her face, as she battled with herself to submit to him or not.

He slammed with a wet squelch back into her again, filling her with his warmth with a long, shuddered groan. His grip so hard around her forearm, she was sure blood did not reach her hands.

He continued to move shallowly into her, pushing his spend as deep inside her as it would go. As if, whether she wanted to or not, he would fuck his child into her and watch her grow fat and round.

And then, once she had one, would fuck yet another into her.

Her breath came fast and hot from her swollen lips as she trembled around him, unknowingly prolonging his pleasure inside her.

His lips brushed against her ear.

"No other words before I begin?"

It was difficult with her head pushed against the floor, but she nodded softly in confirmation. Relief flooding her as she saw her husband's smirk rise to his lips, both his hands dropping to her hips to tug her back onto his length.

"Then let us begin"

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kimis-gloves · 2 months

Text

Runnin' Home To You - read on ao3

The winter break. The time of year that either leaves people longing for more, or an appreciated break from the world of cars and speed. For Charles leclerc it's a different situation. During this time of year, he's apart from everything he loves, everyone he loves. The way he grabs onto charles when they share a podium, the looks they share while they achieve one of their few moments alone. Charles can't see his life in racing without Max Verstappen being there with him. From the early years of karting, Charles knew he loved max. His entire mind and way of thinking revolves around max. The way he races, the way he does not find any genuine attraction to anyone other than max. It's almost as if he's been poisoned and rotted by his fellow dutchman.

After Abu Dhabi, Charles found himself not wanting to leave Max's side because he knew that once he did, it would be one of if not the last time he saw Max before the next season's testing. His heart ached everytime he had to spend time away from max. He wondered if Max ever felt the same way, he doubted that as he watched Max walk over to his new girlfriend, one that came upon somewhat suddenly. He watched as they hugged each other tightly, embracing the other's presence as Max exclaimed with joy after winning his fourth world drivers championship. When Max leans in to kiss her, Charles can't bear to watch as it just hurts too much to see the man he's loved for his entire life, act so affectionately to someone that isn't him.

That was what Charles thought would be the last time he saw Max that year. He spent most of his winter break attempting to take his mind off of the fact that he is so in love with the boy who was sent from the stars. He spent nights laying in bed, deeply wishing Max was there with him. To laugh with and to hold, to stare into his oceans of eyes and tell him how right from the start, he was the light in the dark.

But alas he can't. He lay there in his cold, empty bed and continued to wish. It's a colder & rainy night, not cold enough to snow. He listens to the droplets of rain rattle against his windows, as he turns over to face the moonlit & rain scattered window, he hears a loud, but stern knock at his apartment door.

“What the-”

knock, knock, knock

2:37AM

After quickly checking his phone, Charles drags himsout of his bed, throwing on the nearest joggers and whatever loose tee he can get his hands on. As he's making his way towards his front door, hes wondering who on earth could be at his door at this hour, surely nobody import-

“Max?!”

“Charles.. May I please come in?”

“Oh, of course here..”

As Charles is making wax for Max, he's left utterly speechless as to why Max Verstappen is at his door, dripping wet with monacan rain, asking to be let in. surely there's no logical reason for this.

“Max.. why are you here”

“Shit- charles im sorry, i knew it would be a mistake coming here.”

“No, talk to me.”

Charles brings them both over to the sofa, he offers max a drink but he abruptly declines

“So max, are you going to tell me why you've shown up at my doorstep, at 3 in the morning and soaking wet?”

“She left me, charles.”

‘Oh. I'm sorry to hear that, but it doesn't really explain why you're here like this.”

“Something in me just really needed to see you, I tried calling Daniel for a word of advice but nothing and nobody is helping. I guess I just- really needed to be with you for this. You understand, right?”

Charles is at a loss for words. THE max verstappen.. needed him?? He didn't know how to respond or how to feel about this information, all he could do was sit there and stare at his beloved, not noticing his gaze moving to the freckle on Max’s light pink lip.

“Charles?”

“Uh- yes max. I get how you feel. Sometimes you just can't help but only want one specific person at times.”

“Yeah”

The two men sit there in silence, thoughts racing through minds. Max worries that he's making Charles uncomfortable so he's urged by his mind to get up and leave. He really doesn't want to, but he doesn't want to make his situation worse by ruining things with the person he genuinely loved. The person that was the root of his breakup with his now ex girlfriend.

- 40 minutes before -

“You only talk about charles!! Charles did this, Charles said that. Charles talked about these things and that person charles charles charles!! I’M supposed to be your girlfriend, not charles. I've had enough of being put second to somebody you're supposed to be rivals with. It's going to be either me or Charles, Max.”

Max did not respond to her, instead he walked out the door and walked straight to charles apartment where he knew charles would lie awake at that hour.

Ever since Max was a young boy, he knew he had some types of feelings for charles. He didn't care about winning against the other racers, he only enjoyed racing against charles. Seeing the way Charles would be left frustrated after knowing Max is the only one he couldn't take on. He enjoyed the rush he got from teasing Charles of the win, knowing he would come out on top every single time.

When Max met Kelly, he thought he had found it all, but soon he started to feel as if there was something missing. He felt empty. When he realized it was because of these feelings for Charles, he tried so desperately to ignore them but the more he tried the more he couldn't keep his mind, or his eyes off of charles. He thought Charles was the most beautiful thing to have ever existed. Charles was everything to max and max was everything to charles, but neither of the which knew of the others “secret”

—

“I think i should leave, im sorry charles”

“What? Why?’

“This was wrong. Enjoy your night.”

“Max”

Max turns towards the door aiming to leave but charles quickly follows and grabs max by the back of his shoulder

“Max.”

Brushing off Charles's hand, he stands there, slightly hovering over charles.

“Please stay” he says, looking up into the madness of max's eyes.

And that was all max needed to feel sure that coming here was, in fact, not a mistake.

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ghostlychief · 1 year

Note

Hi, your articles about Simon ghost are interesting. Can I also make a request, please? How does he react to a reader with a big dog? The dog is very protective and affectionate towards the reader. and the dog's eyes are different colors. I will send you a photo of the dog.

HELLO!! First of all, thank you for reading my Ghost fics, that means so much <3 Secondly, i love this request because one, i love dogs, and TWOOO i love big big dogs. I hope you enjoy what i threw together, and take care <3

That Makes Two of Us

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x reader (can read as fem, gn, or male really)

wc: 900+

warnings: none

A/N: I apologize for any grammar/spelling mistakes lol pls forgive me

You can’t remember a time when you didn’t have a dog. Growing up, you were always surrounded by dogs, and had one by the time you were age five. Later, in your early teenage years, your family got another one. Needless to say, it wasn’t a surprise when you bought a dog of your own, after you graduated and got a full-time job.

When you saw your new puppy for the first time, she was already perfect in your eyes. She had mismatched eyes- one blue and one brown. Her fur was as dark as a raven’s feather, and shiny too. You decided to name her Daphne, after a character from one of your favorite TV shows.

You could already tell she was going to be a big dog, just by the size of her paws when she was a puppy. And your assumption was right, because she turned out to be about 65 pounds, paws almost as big as your palm.

You guys became two peas in a pod, and you trained her well. She was smart, loyal and very affectionate with you. It’s all you ever could have wanted in a dog, a companion.

While Daphne was lovey and affectionate towards you, her loyalty showed when she met strangers. She was mostly weary with men she didn’t know. Sure, your dad and close guy friends were no issue for her, she trusted them and therefore she trusted them around you.

However, newer men she didn’t recognize the scent of, or strangers on the sidewalk (strange men), she immediately became alert, ready to do anything for you, anything to protect you. This personality trait of hers was always difficult when in came to dating. Because more often than not, your fling with a guy didn’t last long. It was a cycle of introducing Daphne to a new man, which took her some time to getting used to, to that man completely disappearing from your life, all for it to start again.

It wasn’t until you met Simon aka “Ghost” for things to level out, be “steady” so to say. You and Simon have been dating for about three and a half months at this point. You both went on countless dinner dates, occasionally got drinks, and enjoyed the city where you both lived. All which required him not to see Daphne, or meet her, nonetheless. Sure, you showed him pictures of your baby, and babbled on about her when you guys hung out, but he hasn’t had the pleasure of meeting her.

You decided that after the fourth failed fling/thing with a guy, you would wait until you were seeing a guy for about 4-5 months until you introduced them to your dog. Not wanting to continue to confuse her, by having her meet strangers, and people that wouldn’t be in your life for a long time.

With Simon though, you guys instantly hit it off. He was a little bit quirky, with a dry sense of humor that matched your sarcasm. He was fun to be around and brought out a side of you, you haven’t seen in quite a long time. You were happy, and you trusted him. You only wished that Daphne would trust him as much, because deep-deep down in the pits of your heart, you were starting to fall in love with Simon.

It was after you guys went to dinner one night, that you brought Simon over to your place for the first time. You were a little bit nervous. One, because you were bringing home a devastatingly handsome and tall man, and two, because you weren’t sure how Daphne would react.

You quietly unlocked your door and ushered Simon inside. After you turned on the lights, you could hear Daphne’s paws patter on your floor, signaling to you that she woke up, and was coming to greet you. Though, when she saw Simon standing next to you, she instantly stopped in her tracks, and quirked her head to the side, her ears perked. Not expecting a guest to be with you.

She immediately started barking, her low, powerful bark resonating off the walls of your home.

“I take it she doesn’t like strangers?” Simon remains next to you, but doesn’t show any signs that he’s afraid of your giant black dog barking four feet away from him.

“Well…she’s a little protective of me.” You turn to look at Simon, with a sheepish smile on your pretty face.

“That makes two of us, then.” You try not to let Simon’s deep voice and confession get to you too much, but it’s hard and you find your cheeks warming.

You just laugh at his statement, and make your ways towards Daphne, to try and console her. Once you’ve got her calmed down, you usher Simon over.

“Ok, just approach her on the side, but don’t turn towards her, keep your body perpendicular to hers. And stick your hand out for her to sniff. This will let her know that you’re no threat.”

He does just that, and effortlessly, which you’re not surprised about. You’re certain he’s often around military trained dogs due to his job.

Daphne reluctantly sniffs Simon’s hand, but you can tell he won her over because she starts to lick him, and then lets him pet her on the head. Her tail starts to wag vigorously, and now her barks are lighter, more playful as she greets your new friend.

With a smirk coating his lips, Simon asks her, “See, I’m not too bad, am I?”

Hope you enjoyed!

masterlist

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gatorbites-imagines · 1 year

Note

Hi, I saw you did a request for Tim Drake during your kinktober list, but like nothing after that.

I was wondering if you could do one where Tim has a crush on the reader, him (the reader) having a demon like mutation. (Basically a Teifling from DND)

The reader looks all intimidating and aloof, however he is very affectionate towards people how are close to him.

I think it would great if Tim tries flirt, but he's so awkward he fucks it up everytime.

I'm sorry if you don't like writing for Tim, you don't have to if that's the case. I just really love the caffeine addicted anxiety bird.

Tim Drake x “Tiefling” male reader

Headcanons

I wish I could say I knew more about Tieflings, but I’ve only played DND very few times, and only had one character who was a Tiefling, so I’m just gonna try my best, hehe.

I was also somewhat inspired by nightcrawler from x-men for this reader :)

I also love Tim, I just haven’t gotten any requests for him before, but he is very much on my list of characters I write fore ^^

You had originally not been a part of the justice league, not even close. You had worked alone most of your life, though to had partnered up his magic users in the past, most notably John Constantine, who after having run-ins with your parents became a common figure in your life.

You were what most called a meta, but in reality, you were actually the child of two very powerful hellish beings. You had been born a human but on your 6th birthday you had mutated into a figure that fit your parentage most.

In the beginning you didn’t know your origin and your birth parents had shunned you. Turns out your hell parents couldn’t carry a child of their own, so they had used magic to have you be born by a couple on earth.

Your earth parents had not been kind when you one day turned blue, grew horns, a tail and other non-human features. They had actually tried to get rid of you because they thought you were cursed.

That was your first meeting with Constantine, after your earth parents had sold you to some less than friendly people who wanted nothing but bad things for you and other meta kids they had stolen or bought.

Apparently multiple kids there had been magic or not even human but of otherworldly descent, so Constantine was the ones to find you.

Apparently, he had recognized some of your features, the curve of your horns, the shade of your blue, the yellow of your eyes and the curve of your tail. He had offered to bring you to your hell parents.

You didn’t understand at the time, but when he brought you to hell and to the two people who had been your less than human parents you couldn’t help but feel relief to some point. You weren’t a monster or a curse and had parents who loved you.

Your hell parents wanted you to be cut off from the human world, but you treasured it even though you had only lived in it for 6 years, so Constantine kept coming around to work as some kind of anchor between you and earth.

He taught you magic and called you Tiefling as a nickname. He even taught you spells that could help you change your appearance to be more human, though your eyes stayed yellow, your ears pointed, and you had sharper canines.

Constantine and your hell parents taught you many things you needed to survive, and you had become very interested in seals, runes and anything like it, becoming quite the expert at a young age.

You were able to create large and confusing seals and summoning circles, and read ancient texts even the older demons couldn’t understand. Your hell parents and Constantine had been quite proud when you one-upped a cocky elder demon in reading and deciphering runes.

Along with runes you had pretty much coined teleportation as one of your quirks. You’d always disappear in a cloud of black smoke, even though you could do it without the effects, it was just funnier this way.

It was because of your extreme skill with runes that you were called to help the Justice League. Apparently, their magisters Zatanna and Dr Fate had found a very extreme summoning circle, the world ending kind, but they couldn’t figure it out.

They had even roped Constantine into trying to decipher it, but they all feared that poking at it would end badly and summon whatever it was made to summon.

In the end Constantine admitted to knowing an expert, and though he hated working with the League he knew this kinda seal couldn’t be left alone, so he contacted you.

The League didn’t really know how to react when Constantine’s contact was someone as young as you, you couldn’t be much older than Red Robin, so anywhere between 18 to your early 20s, if they went off human ages.

Some of course wanted to ask you questions immediately, feeling on edge about a meta or if Constantine was to be believed, demon, in front of them.

Most seemed cautious, and nobody noticed how Tim was having a moment. The moment you stepped out of the portal his heart started doing flips, and if he hadn’t mastered a poker face, he knew he would have been bright red and stuttering already.

Most left you alone as you worked, but Tim couldn’t help but make his way over and try to start a conversation. Kon, Bart and Cassie would later tell him it had been a painful sight.

Tim had tried to casually lean up against the table nearby, but his arm had slipped so he ended up leaning up against the wall instead. Normally you would have been annoyed by being bothered when deciphering, but the flustered hero made your tail wriggle.

Tim stayed around as you worked, at some point becoming a bit more comfortable and the two of you fell into conversation. Though, Tim did still seem quite flustered as he tried to “shoot his shot” as Dick called it, and failed miserably each time.

You couldn’t help but find Red Robin quite charming in his own way though, it was pretty cute to watch him try to flirt even though he seemed to have absolutely no talent in doing so.

When you were finished deciphering and destroying the summoning circle you ended up giving red Robin your phone number, don’t question how it was possible for him to contact you in hell, you didn’t know yourself.

It had been so hard to keep yourself from snickering at how the bottom half of his face had gone beet red and he had started stuttering, clutching onto his phone that you had just put your name into.

After this you started hanging with Tim and his friends some more, also working closer to some of the younger heroes around your own age. You never became an official league member, not wanting to be mixed up in all the weird things they did.

Your hell parents also almost had a fit when they found out you were working with superheroes of the human world, not because they had anything against heroes but because it put you in danger.

All the way through this Tim had tried in different ways to flirt or ask you out, you almost pitied him because it never seemed to work out for him. He always got too flustered and would choke on his words and stutter. It was very cute, but you almost wanted him to be able to finish his request to ask you out.

The other friends of your group started placing bets on just how long it would take Tim to successfully ask you out, you even had some money in the pool.

You couldn’t say you didn’t want Tim to ask you out, as you had very quickly developed feelings for the hero, your tail even going as far as you wrap around the man as if it had a mind of its own.

You had been so embarrassed the first time it happened that you just teleported right back to hell, your face going a darker shade of blue as you blushed. It had ended up with you hiding away in your room, too embarrassed to look at anyone.

You almost threw your hands in the air and cheered as Tim finally seemed to have found a method that worked for him, at least in his own way.

Before, he had tried to go above and beyond to make a display or ask you out in romantic ways, like giving you flowers or something just as romantic, but he had always forgotten what he planned on saying or had started stuttering.

One day he just sat down beside you on the couch, and though he was bright red, simply asked if you would like to go on a date. Nothing complicated or extreme like you had a feeling many had told him to be, it just felt very Tim to just be upfront about it like this.

You had blushed but smiled, your tail coming up to wrap around his waist to pull him closer to you. You of course agreed, and you couldn’t keep you smile off your face for the rest of the week as your tail never seemed to stop wagging.

Tim had gone even redder when you pulled him close, but he had seemed almost over the moon when you agreed on the date, he had to use all his bat training to keep himself from jumping up and celebrating.

After months of failing to flirt and ask you out he had finally done it, now the problem was coming up with a date that wouldn’t leave him stuttering and stumbling like a fool, that was gonna be hard.

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yandere-romanticaa · 2 years

Text

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ vintage misery.

you've been married to him for a year now, but things have been anything but grand, in your eyes at least. how well have you settled in your marriage i wonder?

various! yandere! genshin impact men.

Just a tiny compilation of my favorite Genshin men <333 Tell you the truth I love them all but I was too lazy so take what I can offer! I might to a part 2 in the future if people are interested in it. Maybe even a female version...? And in case you couldn't tell, I can't wait for Cyno. Don't @ me for putting him on here!!

𓆩♡𓆪 CYNO. - The smell of old books and lit candles became a source of comfort for you once you settled in the Academia with your husband. Barely two years have passed but in your eyes it might as well been a flash. You would sit in the library for hours on end, mind immersed in the various stories and documents you could get your hands on but there were moments when you would go back to the day you and Cyno met. It was brief and curt, Cyno remaining stoic as ever but he was polite to you.

Maybe that should have been the first red flag.

In just a span of a few months Cyno had managed to find out everything he possibly could about you and thanks to the many strings he has and the favors he could cash in, he managed to get you into the Academia. Not as a student but rather as a humble librarian, something to keep you cozy, well fed, entertained and close to him.

Being a scholar, Cyno was naturally curious about many things and he would often travel to seek and explore the vast world. He would send you letters and various little trinkets, all of which meant nothing to you but still decided to keep them close as Cyno seemed to chipper up if he saw them on your desk. That's precisely why you wondered why he ever took an interest in you, but you never dated to ask him.

Cyno was many things, but affectionate was not one of them. At least, he wasn't used to it.

There were times when he would try to initiate something but he just gets lost. His face would be as cold as ice but by just looking at his twitching fingers it was painfully obvious that he was longing to touch you, to show you some love he was unable to show otherwise.

The only time you felt even remotely close to your husband was when the two of you would play games together.

It was during these sessions that you got to understand just what kind of person Cyno is and how his mind worked. There were times when he would even show a hint of a smile on his face, happiness written all over it as he would lovingly gaze at you as you kept your head down, too flustered to look him in the eye.

Your relationship with Cyno is a distant one and it leaves many people scratching their heads. This would be an issue for any other person but Cyno does not care about outside opinions. He only cares about your own.

𓆩♡𓆪 KAEDEHARA KAZUHA. - Life at sea should have been different for anyone to get used to but Kazuha was an exception.

Nothing in the whole world could ever tie him down in one place and he would wander wherever the wind would take him. It was cruel to keep him in one place, to force his mind and blade to go full as you did your daily duties in your cush little Inazuman home. Marrying Kazuha felt like a dream at first, but a dream was still a dream. He begged you to join him, to go out into the world and see its blinding beauty with your own two eyes and with him by your side. His gleaming red eyes still haunt you, the sheer eagerness of hive voice sent shivers down your spine.

Words cannot describe how much you missed him.

Kazuha missed you too, and you knew it.

Why else would he leave little marks all over your body if that were not the case?

Not wishing to limit your freedom, Kazuha begrudgingly made a deal with you - he would go travel the world and you could stay here at home. He promised to visit as much as he could and he would always being back so many gifts with him that you could drown in them.

The burning sensation down your leg continued to disturb your line of thought as your arm gently inched closer to it. Lifting up your skirt you were met with several flaming red scars that marred your skin, the sheer itch of it testing your ability of whether or not you could handle this sort of pain. In big bold letters, the name "KAEDEHARA KAZUHA" was carved in, an eternal reminder of to who you belong to and to whom you vowed to spend the rest of your life with.

𓆩♡𓆪 THOMA. - The news of his engagement broke fast in Inazuma and everything went without a hitch. Everyone and their mothers were excited about Thoma tying the knot because why wouldn't a dapper young lad such as himself not find a suitable partner to shack up with? He was the Inazuman golden boy, it really wasn't too surprised to know how many people were supporting him.

More than a year has passed ever since your wedding day and here you are, sitting on the floor of the Kamisato estate, a cup of hot tea in your hand as you gazed at the entire estate. It was a quiet day today as most of the workers were somewhere with their families while Thoma was out to do some shopping, an endeavor you'd usually join him in but you decided to lay low today.

The golden wedding ring burned your finger the longer your thought about him, the ring itself served as a constant reminder that you were no longer your own person. Whenever you would go out there would always be hoards of people asking where Thoma is and why isn't he with you. A "Property of Thoma" sign could might as well be carved on your forehead the longer you thought about it. Gritting your teeth in anger you tried hard not to shatter the precious porcelain cup in your hands, knowing full well that the liquid could burn you.

However, nothing burned more than the intense smile of your ever adoring husband, who's affections made your stomach churn for all the wrong reasons.

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holymountdias · 1 year

Text

Jealousy

Hakim Ziyech x (fem)reader

Summary: One of Hakim's men gets a bit friendly with you and he doesn't like it

Word count: 6542

Notes: fluff, smutt

knock knock

"Who is it?"

You open the door slightly, just so you can slip your head through the gap and look at your fiance Hakim who was sitting behind his desk, as he currently was having a meeting with some men that looked unfamiliar to you. Hakim held a serious yet angry expression on his face, probably expecting one of his men to be behind the door but his features immediately softened when he saw that it's you.

"Hey it's me, sorry to interrupt, can I talk to you for a second" your tell him softly, feeling slightly awkward that you disturbed them.

He immediately gets up from his desk and excuses himself as he follows you outside his office. Oncw the door closes behind him, he slowly reaches out to hold you by the waist while his eyes are searching for yours, in his effort to figure out wether something wrong has happened to you. Like always you can't suppress your smile when he does small things like this; feeling your chest swell from all the sweet feelings this man gives to you on the daily.

"Is something wrong?" he asks quietly as he lifts up his hand to push a strand of hair that fell in front of your face behind your ear.

"No, nothing wrong" you chuckle a little at his worried expression "I just wanted to tell you that I'm going to the mall so that you don't get worried if you don't find me here." you answer honestly.

A small sigh falls past through his lips, feeling uncomfortable with the fact that you wanted to go out while he is busy and won’t be able to accompany you to make sure of your protection. Usually, back when your relationship was still a secret he would just have some of his men follow you around wherever you went, but now that you had gotten engaged and every enemy of his knew about you, your life was in constant danger so he was even more worried about your protection when you are in public.

You know how dangerous Hakim's daily life is and what danger your life was brought in once you agreed to marry him but you want to risk it all because he proved you many times that he is worth it. So you complied with his wish to be more restricted at home, at least for the first few months. Nevertheless he knows that he can't just deprive you of your freedom and it's been a few weeks since you last left the house and you needed some fresh air.

After a few seconds of thinking, he brushes off his anxious thoughts and nods at your words before kissing your forehead softly.

"But I'm going to have my men come with you to make sure nothing happens to you." he tells you in a serious tone this time but you honestly can’t even notice since his hands keep touching you affectionately in every way he could think of.

"Yeah, I don't mind, at least Rudi will be there and he is always fun to hang out with" you let out a small giggle as you thought of Hakim's second in command.

He always does funny things while watching over you. When you first met him he was mostly quiet and would have a blank expression on his face, which made you very uncomfortable and low-key afraid of him since you didn't know him, but thankfully he trusted you enough to show you his true self eventually, although your serious relationship with his boss and also best friend helped a lot with that as well.

You then notice how Hakims face turns into a frown. "Rudi has some business to deal with sweetheart I'm sorry, but none of the rest of the men will talk to you or make you uncomfortable in the slightest way. I will tell them to give you some space, while you do your shopping so that you can enjoy more of yourself there." He replies while cupping your face to bring your slightly frowned face closer to his. "I'm sorry, baby I wish I could come with you but i have these bastards to deal with and it will take some time."

You press your lips together to hold your laugh back as you shake your head to reassure him that you are fine with it. "No, it's alright, I promise" you tell him softly, as your hands are playing with the buttons on his shirt.

He then moves one of your hands towards his face to kiss the back of it before interlocking your fingers but doesn't really stop there as he quickly leans into you to press his lips against yours passionately this time.

You smile into the kiss and your lips respond with the same desire. Your heads tilt, yearning to get more of each other in seconds with your tongues swirling together. You nibble and bite onto his lower lip as your hands are wondering all over his torso when they finally land on top of his belt which you soon pull forward in order to make his body crash completely against yours.

Hakim groans into your mouth feeling his cock harden by your sudden move. He feels intoxicated at that moment, having all of you against him as he tastes and sucks on your tongue and lips; he wants to have you right then and there but before he can make any other move, he feels your palms on his chest pushing him back and breaking the kiss between you too.

Deep breaths start escaping you both while trying to recover from the luck of oxygen due to your heated moement but Hakim soon proceeds to kiss you again which you prevent by placing your finger on his lips. You feel his mouth moving under your touch and notice how it has shifted into a smirk when he then takes a hold of your hand and pecks the back of it once again.

"Dont be late" he says with a serious voice while he is eyeing you like a hunter would his prey.

"Yes Sir" you answer him teasingly while you are looking him straight in the eyes and you can see how much that name affects him everytime you use it.

"Get ready, my men will be waiting for you outside with the car. Kepa will be the one that comes with you at all places so if you need something you tell him or call me if something is wrong" you nodded in agreement and you peck his lips one more time before you leave him.

When you finally step out of the mansion you come into view with two black cars parked right in front of the mansion's stairs and a young man in a suit leaning against the front car who you soon realize is staring at you. You quickly go down the stairs and stand in front of him as he quickly greets you formally.

"Are you ready to leave miss?"he asks you politely and you hum in agreement while smiling lightly. He soon guides you inside the car and after getting in himself in the passengers seat the car starts moving.

The walk in the shopping center ended up being quite nice. After so many weeks of staying inside the house, it felt good to be out. You knew that Hakim is only doing it for your protection and you trust him with your life, but now that you finally went out, you can't imagine yourself being locked up inside again, so you make a mental note to talk to Hakim about it.

Kepa surprisingly was a nice addition to your little trip as well. Sure, he isn't the most talkative person; he will address you only when you speak to him first, which you suspect that is because of Hakim's orders, but it's definitely better than being all alone or in the worst case homebound.

He was really respectful too; he was always leaving you enough room to do things on your own, his presence didn't make you feel restricted either, like the way of having someone above your head watching your every move as if you were about to do something wrong. In general you enjoyed being a part of the outside world once again and what made you more excited about it, is the new clothes and especially the new set of lingerie that you got to buy.

When you finally decide to go home, it was the early hours of the afternoon, which you surely aren't mad about as you spent almost half of your day shopping, but you knew someone who probably is. Kepa is quick to take care of your bags in the car and you are soon back on the road on your way home.

Once you arrive he opens your side door to guide you out of the vehicle, but right when you step out, you move around to get your bags from the seats. While slightly bending forward, you feel Kepa's body right behind you; one of his hands is placed right behind your waist while he moves your hands away from the bags with his other one.

"Allow me, Miss" you hear him say right next to you, but you couldn't really move to look at him at that moment, your positions left no gap between you too while he had his hand on your waist. You didn't know if you should move or not, too afraid that somehow you are going to end up in more awkward position but thankfully he was fast enough to grab everything and move out of your way.

You stand up straight again with a flustered expression on your face which doesn't go unnoticed by Kepa who immediately frowns at the thought that he made you uncomfortable by his action. It isn't just the fact that Hakim would probably have his head stuck on a pole if he knew about it, but also that he really likes you as a person and the thought of him doing something wrong towards you doesn't sit well with him.

"I'm really sorry Y/n, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I should have probably waited until you moved away first."

You immediately shake your head in disagreement "Oh no no, it's alright, I was just a bit surprised that's all, I promise" you try to assure him and after nodding at you he starts heading up the stairs while carrying your bags. You walk alongside him but the atmosphere feels too awkward at that moment and you feel guilty for it so you decide to do something.

As you walk up the stairs you elbow his arm playfully in order to catch his attention and he turns to look at you in wonder. "You should call me by my name more, I hate it when people talk to me formally, it's annoying and it makes me feel old" you chuckle lightly but you notice how his brows are furrowed as if he is thinking what you mean but soon his eyes widen in realization making him stop in his tracks

"Fuck, oh shoot, I'm really sorry Miss, I shouldn't have called you by your name. Boss would kill me if he knew." he says anxiously while catching up with you on the stairs again. "Well that's true, but I won't tell him." you say playfully hoping that it will help easing out the uncomfortable atmosphere between you two.

When you finally reach the top of the stairs you grab his arm lightly to make him turn around to look at you. "But honestly Kepa you should call me Y/n when we are alone, I prefer it and it will be our little secret, Hakim won't know," you assure him with a smile but before he could answer you, the front door of the mansion opens only to reveal Hakim in all his glory.

A hard expression on his face as he takes a look at the pair of you, which made both Kepa and yourself feel uneasy due to the conversation you were just having.

Could Hakim have heard your conversation?

Leaving Kepa's side, you approach your fiance, leaning into him to give him a hug and a kiss, like you always do when you welcome him home, but now it is the other way round. Your eyebrows furrow and you look up at him with a puzzled expression on your face when you don't feel his hands on the small of your back. But when you spot where his gaze still is, you pull back from him, your hands touching his face and bringing it down to yours to peck his lips but he doesn't budge either.

Kepa feels the murderous stare of his boss and he can sense better than anything that Hakim had heard the conversation and even worse saw the incident back in the car. Even if his intentions were nothing but innocent, to anyone looking at them at that moment it seemed way more intimate than that, and he knows very very well that no one is allowed to go near his boss' fiance unless it is strictly for safety reasons or if his boss is present, but still you are something like a forbidden fruit around the house for everyone else apart from Hakim of course.

Your voice is hushed when you pinch his chin between your thumb and index finger, ''Baby, look at me''.

Hakim's eyes meet yours but you don't miss the smirk on his face when he looks back at Kepa's way, then back to your eyes before he leans closer to your face, nudging your nose with his and connecting your lips together. The kiss leaves you breathless and his hand is traveling dangerously close to your bum. Hakim has made it clear from the start that he isn't a huge fan of PDA, even him being openly affectionate with you in front of others is a no go, so this kiss in front of his head of security felt odd. His hands flank your hips and pulls you flash against him as his tongue parts your lips and inserts your mouth.

You softly moan against his mouth when you feel his hand close around your neck and apply pressure to the sides of it and at that moment you pull back from him before you get carried away; your eyes search for Kepa just as he passes you both and makes his way up the stairs.

''That was rude Hakim'' you scolded him but he doesn't respond to you, only looks at you with narrowed eyes and then leaves you standing there all alone and confused. He knows that you will follow him and that's what he wants; to lure you into his office so that he can put his plan into action. You on the other hand are furious with his attitude, first the nasty glare towards Kepa and now him pulling some kind of silent game towards you. Whatever it is you can just talk it out and that is you plan.

You follow him into his office and after shutting the door behind you, you watch him sitting back in his office chair with his hands behind his head in a relaxing way and then looking back at you.

"Hakim what was that back there?" you ask him furiously as you folded your arms.

"Strip" he demands with no hesitation and your brows immediately furrow in confusion.

"Excuse me?"

"I don't like repeating myself sweetheart, I said strip" he replies seriously once again as he lowers his hands on top of the arms of his chair. His stare is blank but holds something dangerous in it too; the same expression he always uses as the leader of his mafia. You can't read behind it though and you don't know wether that is making your body burn with excitement or fear of what's about to come. You know that he won't hurt you, that is not going to be questioned; damn how could he when he worships the ground you walk on and so do you for him, but you were so lost that you don't know what to expect at this moment.

"No, this isn't some game for you to play, there is obviously a problem and we should discuss it" you tell him while moving right in front of his desk.

You see him smirking at you before he stands up from his chair and nears where you stand so that you have no room to escape from him. He grips your chin to raise your face a bit closer to his as he looks at you with a burning gaze.

"You want to talk ? Let's talk, but first you strip or this won't end well for the boy" he tells you calmly and your eyes widen in sock instantly knowing that he is referring to Kepa.

You hesitate for a second but soon decide to give in to his request. Hakim would never hurt any of his men without a serious reason for it like betrayal, but you still don't want to take any risks, especially regarding the life of someone who has done nothing wrong; although it seems like Hakim has quite an opposite opinion on it. You know that this is just a game for him to prove something to you, with the only difference that now he is threatening the life of one of his men, which is why you are now in only your lacey underwear with your fiance eyeing you with desire.

His hungry gaze wanders all over your semi naked figure as you stand right in front of him, your bodies almost touching and you looking at him straight in the eyes boldly, waiting, asking for his next move.

"Good girl" he whispers and your jaw clenches both mad at him for whatever game he was pulling but also at yourself because you knew that his plan was low-key working. You could feel yourself getting wet under his gaze already, but those three words were the last thing your pussy needed to start throbbing, asking to be touched by him.

He smirks noticing the affect he holds on you and suddenly grabs you tightly by the hips and has you facing the desk in a second while slightly bending you forward. You gasp, being taken aback by his sudden move and because of the feeling of his bulge though his pants being pushed against your lower back. You cant move a single inch as he has one of his arms wrapped around your waist while the other one is on your neck, tugging your head backwards and onto one of his shoulders.

You can sense his steady breathing on the side of your neck while he is slowly trailing his nose on your bare skin causing you to rub yourself unconsciously on him. A devilish smirk appears on him before he leaves a soft kiss on that spot on your neck that he knows it drives you crazy and like always, a moan escapes you from all the teasing. His lips are now close to your ear when he groans deeply as he presses his bottom forward. Your mouth falls open as a silent cry comes out, your eyes close, focusing entirely on everything Hakim was doing to you while his erected member was assaulting you from behind.

"Now we talk" he whispers right beside you and then lowers his hand to cup your ass.

"Hakim please" you plead as you can feel your panties getting wet from your arousal.

"First mistake, I asked you to not be late and what did you do?" you don't answer immediately too busy clenching your pussy around nothin, your body aching under the feverish feeling, needing even the smallest relief. Your body jerks once Hakim slap you ass cheek with force, not liking your silent state and you moan in reaction.

"I asked you something love, and I expect an answer from you" he says in a deep tone and this time you don't hesitate to reply.

"I was late Sir" you reply to him, almost whispering. Your mind fighting against the intoxicating feeling around your body, trying to get your head straight. You are lost and even though you don't like to admit it, Hakim has you where he wants, wrapped around him or at least for you hopefully soon to be.

His starts caressing your redden asscheek to ease the stinging feeling that still lingered on you naked flesh. The gesture was so simple yet so sinful at the same time; you knew it's his way of rewarding you, his small praise for your obedience and you are obsessed with it.

"2nd mistake, you let him touch you" he says following with another hard slap on your other ass cheek.

"You know, I saw what happened in the car and I'm not pleased with either of you love, so you are both going to face your consequences" he takes a pause before continuing "starting with you" that's the last thing he says and you are suddenly forced down onto the desk with your front resting on it's surface while he is holding both your hands against your back. Your burning skin is now confronted with the cold temperature from the furniture.

His hand is traveling down your body cupping your sweet drenched clothing before slipping it inside to place it on your desperate center.

"So wet for me" he whispers and you moan out in response

His hand is spreading your wetness as he rubs your clit slowly. You moan from the pleasure and your hands tighten into fists aching to feel his fingers inside you already. You are so impatient that you shamelessly part your legs apart more to give him more room and proceed to move your hips to grind on his fingers urging him to do more. A slap comes onto your cunt and you gasp from both pain and pleasure as your body jolts upwards.

"You are so fucking spoiled, keep still or else I'm leaving you like this" you hear him from behind you and you twist your head to the front; your forehead now resting on the desk with your eyes closed, biting down on your lip as you moan in dissatisfaction.

His thumb starts teasing your slit again when he finally slides two fingers inside your slick walls and you immediately clench around them. It feels like a dream come true feeling your hole being filled and you cry out from the intoxicating feeling; your mind wonder to the moment his thick cock will be inside you. You are so turned on, your wetness is dripping down to your thighs as Hakim is thrusting his digits in and out.

He adds a third finger as your walls tighten around them all before he quickens his pace, triggering your orgasm. Right when you are about to reach your climax Hakim retreats his fingers denying you the pleasure and you moan loudly in protest.

"3rd mistake, you let him speak informally to you" you feel him walk away from you and the only sound being in the room is your uneasy breathing due to your arousal.

“stand back up and face me” you hear his delicious voice a moment later and you obey immediately hoping to get some kind of reward sooner as your body is burning up for his touch; yet you are met with a blank expression once again, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows while having his hands inside his pockets. From that moment you knew that you weren’t getting anything from him; his relaxed state is annoying you the least you can say considering how much worked up he’s got you to be.

“take off your panties and lay back on the desk”

“what’s in it for me?” you talk back as your sexual frustration is getting into your head. He already denied you an orgasm and clearly he ain’t going to give you anything just appease his ego for whatever he is playing to you.

He chuckles in amusement and tilts his head in interest “sweetheart you are in no position to be asking for anything as far as talking back like you are right now”

“Well then if i’m not getting anything from this, i should just go ask someone else; i’m sure Keppa would love to help me out” you hate yourself for probably making the poor guy more of a target to Hakim in your favour right now, but you need your man to fuck you stupid or else you will go insane.

A quick jealous expression flashes through his face but its quickly covered up by a devilish smirk as if he is loving where this is going and honestly so do you. You used to be very obedient and vanilla-sweet kind of girl when you first started your relationship but eventually you became more confident in yourself from how much your fiancé was worshiping you and you honestly loved this new kind of confidence that he’s given you so you weren’t hesitant to use it against him.

He takes a few steps slowly to stand right in front you, the both of you not taking your eyes off of each others, challenging one another’s power. He smirks in your face interested by your little bratty behaviour that is about to be diminished cause he is the one in control and he has no issue making sure that you know it for good by the time he is done with you.

“You are getting what I’m giving you baby, if its nothing then it’s nothing, but don’t challenge me this way, cause i can leave you with nothing for a whole week and you know damn well that your small hand ain’t going to relieve your hunger sweetheart, not like my cock does”

He’s got you hypnotised by his words as you somehow become even more turned on, you feel your throat gulp down and before you can say anything he leans down to your ear.

“And you know i ain’t lying baby, once i say its on, its on” he whispers slowly and you almost moan at the feeling of his breath and voice so close to you, but there is no single touch for him this whole time and you almost moan in frustration.

“Then give me something to remember of during the week” you say almost breathlessly before he comes back to look back at you and he smirks at your words.

“Oh don’t worry, i’m going to give you something to remember of” he then grabs you from your thighs to lift you up on the desk and brings his lips against yours as you wrap your arms around his neck. You feel his hands wondering on you from your thighs to your waist, gripping onto your bare skin before yanking your panties off of you; your drenched pussy now touching the cold surface of the desk making your bottom arch in reaction as you moan into the kiss.

Hakim eventually breaks the kiss only to give a small peck on your shoulder and then ask you to lay back down which you do in a instant as he also moves your feet on top of the surface placing each one on your side, giving full view of your center.

His hand goes straight to your throbbing core, as his thumbs rubs onto your clit spreading your wetness all over and he groans at the sight of it.

“So fucking drenched for me” he says and then kneels down so that his face is straight in front of your pussy. He starts licking your pussy up and down, his tongue sweeping your wetness all around and a moan escapes you from the new sensation. He sucks on you lightly at first, his lips wrapping themselves around your labia and his tongue is taking in the juices from your inner parts while his thumb is playing with your clit. Your mouth gapes and your neck snaps backwards as your body tries to push itself forward and closer to him, wanting more.

“Hakim please” you moan out and he pulls back to look at you hungrily as he trails his fingers downwards to each side of your pussy before diving back in, now licking your clit slowly while one of his fingers crooked plays with the entrance of your core at first but eventually pushing it all inside and begins thrusting it feeling how tight you are for him. His tongue keeps licking faster this time putting more pressure on that sweet spot as he penetrates you with one more finger and going faster this time making you a moaning mess from all the stimulation.

You can feel that fire in your stomach building up as you are nearing your climax and he knows how close you are by your clenching walls. You become louder as you are about to cum but suddenly everything stops as he pulls back once again with a fucking smirk on his face once again.

“fucking asshole” you say quietly and his expression turns serious meaning that he heard you and you smile playfully at the fact that you got him but he gets you back by slapping your pussy making you moan out-loud.

“watch it sweetheart”

“oh i’m sorry i just expected more from the man that was supposed to give me something to remember of for the rest of the week” he ignores you for a moment as you watch him pull out his phone from his pants and typing as if you are not there. Right when you are about to call him out again he cuts you off.

“don’t worry baby, i intend full fill our agreement “

“Are you sure about it? cause you seem too busy to take care of your fiancé’s needs.” you answer with an angry tone as you sit up a bit by your elbows.

“jealousy doesn’t look good on you sweetheart”

“Oh you wanna talk about jealousy mr show off pda in front of my men. At least Keppa would have fucked me by now”

You then feel his hand wrapped around your neck putting pressure on it, making you choke a little while your eyes widen for a second after being taken off guard. “shut up slut, you wanna cum ?” you nod eagerly in reply and he then pulls his hand back to unbutton his pants, letting the material fall down to his feet before lowering his underwear too, letting his hardened cock spring free from it.

You watch him with lust as his hand quickly shifts to stroke it for a few seconds and then he grips your hips to bring you towards the edge of the desk; his dick now laying on to of your pussy and you let out a moan in reaction, as you sit yourself up more with your palms against the surface and your legs placed around his waist. Your eyes staring down at the view of Hakim’s redden member that is now being rubbed against your core and you bite your lips loving the feeling of it but wanting more.

So you look back up at your fiancé and he immediately looks back at you as if he already knew that you were looking at him and you mentally beg him to finally fuck you. Thankfully Hakim is smart enough to recognise the expression on your face to understand what you want but he is still an egoistic bastard. “Ask for it”

“Please fuck me, i need you inside me” you say without hesitation and you see his eyes darken at your words when he finally enters you all at once; your head falling back and your mouth gapping from the feeling of fullness that consumes you.

Hakim furrows his brows as he keeps gazing at you, affected by how your slippery walls feel around him. He groans as the sound of your juices being squeezed is echoed throughout the room making you both even more turned on and he grips your waist to move his throbbing member faster inside you. You can feel your pussy pulse and your back quickly arches at the rough touch on your sides, while pushing your chest forward.

Without thinking your hand flies to your clit, leaving you balance yourself on one hand which in a normal situation would be very hard, but thankfully your fiancé seems to be holding your whole upper body now making him fuck you harder as your legs tighten around him.

You whimper as you can now feel his balls slapping against you due to the force; your hand messily playing with your clit since you are not able to fully focus in the middle of being pounded. You feel yourself coming close to your climax for what feels like the hundredth time today but he once agains denies it from you by slowing his pace making you whimper in protest but at this point you feel so tired and sexual frustrated that you want to cry.

You close your eyes as you lay back down on the desk trying to focus on the stimulation you are receiving, wanting desperately to cum but you are getting interrupted by the feeling of soft pecks being placed on your chest and neck; you open your eyes only to see Hakim looking at you with the same darkened look as before but you almost miss the small forgiving look in his eyes as they soften at your exhausted state.

You shift your hands slowly towards the straps of your bra pushing them past your shoulders and then before you can drag the rest of the material down he stops you from doing so which makes you eyes furrow in confusion.

“No baby i want you to keep it on”

“Hakim please let me cum” you answer him desperately.

He then takes one of your legs from his waist and raises it up on his shoulder before he places both of his hands on each side only to bend his body forward, his face close to yours. This angle causes your eyes to roll in the back of your head as he repeatedly hits your g spot while you feel him kiss your face and neck affectionately.

“I will baby, but it will soon be worth it, just trust me on this one” his reply only made you confused but you decided to ignore it and focus on the only part that mattered to you at this moment; that he would let you cum.

knock knock

Your eyes widen in fear of someone coming inside the room and witnessing your intimate state. After taking a glance at the door, you look back at Hakim who seemed awfully relaxed while wearing a devilish smirk on his face as he stands back up to look at your submissive state. Before you can say anything, he beats you to it, inviting the person in which you are about to protest to it but he wraps his hand around your neck, slightly choking you with it.

As the door opens and steps are being heard, your body becomes almost hear frozen at the feeling of a new presence in the room and you close your eyes feeling embarrassed for how your body surprisingly reacts to this. Your cunt starts throbbing at the the thought of being watched by a third person while Hakim seems to be shamelessly pounding into you now; your erotic sounds increasing as you feel the same fire you have being yearning to feel again, start building up within you.

“Don’t be rude love, open your eyes and greet our guest” your fiancé asks you after he grips your chin with his hand to force your face where the person is standing and you do so, slowly, only to be met with the sight of Keppa gazing your undone filthy state with a serious expression that almost makes you almost takes you off the edge, almost, but it’s still enough to feel your stomach start clenching feeling yourself nearing another orgasm.

“Are you going to come for me baby?” you hear the man above you ask and you nod eagerly while whimpering which only gets you a slap on the face making your walls tighten at the stinging feeling on your flesh.

“Say it, i want him to hear you say it” he growls at you as his cock twitches inside your drenched hole that keeps sucking him in more and more by the minute. “Tell him who owns you”

“Fuckk, I’m coming for you Hakim, only for you, you own me” you say breathlessly, yours eyes rolling in the back as you finally come apart with so much force that your body starts squirming and trembling under both men’s gaze but your pussy clenching around only one’s of them cock which quickly explodes inside you filling up your assaulted drenched cunt.

The warmth of his cum covering up your insides makes you whimper in satisfaction as you seem to have forgotten about the second man in the room too caught up with how your fiancé’s dick fills in your hungry hole as he watches you with a pleasing grin on his face; his coming trailing down your body caressing your soft skin in affection.

“Get out” he orders, and the man on the side of the room immediately abides to his command without any other word or sound.

Once the door clicks closed, he slides out of you slowly and you both groan in union. He helps you sit up on the desk as you place your arms behind his neck and letting your head rest on his chest. His hands start caressing your sides until guiding one of his hands down to your sore center tracing it softly with his as he shifts his head to look down there.

“Fuck” he whispers and you whimper in reaction at the sudden unpleasant feeling because of the overstimulation , your hand moving over to his to prevent him from going any further.

“Shhh, look at that sight baby” You forehead creased in confusion and you look down only to notice the milky white substance that’s slowly trailing out of your hole only for Hakim to quickly push it back inside you with his finger. Your eyes automatically close as you somehow feel you pussy pulse from the sensation of his cum being forced back inside you, filling you up completely once again.

Suddenly you are being scooped up by him, his hands holding you under your thighs and waist as your head falls against his head and you smile softly at the secure feeling of his arms around.

He chuckles softly at this image of you, “Now don’t get too comfortable cause we still have long way to go if i’m going to deny you for the whole week”

#hakim ziyech #hakim ziyesh smut #hakim ziyesh x reader #hakim ziyesh imagines #football imagines #thats a long one lol but im glad i finally finished it. its been some time but im finally back at writing folks

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sxftmusings · 2 years

Text

when he sees me

summary: you have always been scared of the idea of marriage, but that all changes when you meet benedict

warnings/tags: fem!reader, brief mentions of abuse (nothing happens to reader i promise!!)

You have heard many stories of the horrors of marriage, how husbands would control their wives, while they have the freedoms to cheat on them with mistresses, and some go as far as to beat their wives. You never had the best model of marriage growing up, your parents were always fighting and were never affectionate, only ever being close in the public eye to maintain their image.

You grew up to believe true love wasn’t real, it was just something written in romance novels, and after hearing of your friend's cruel marriages, you were convinced love doesn’t exist.

You swore to yourself you would never get married, not wanting to live an unhappy life under someone’s authority and having the limited freedom you had as a woman taken away from you. But your life took a turn when you met Benedict.

You first met Benedict at a ball. You had successfully avoided any man that wanted to dance with you that night, and you were trying to blend into the walls, until you bumped into the brunet, causing the drink in your hand to spill all over your dress. His face morphed into shock and he apologized profusely. He tried to find something to help clean your dress, but you just giggled at his actions and insisted you were fine.

You and Benedict spent the rest of the evening outside in the fresh air, away from the stuffy, overcrowded ballroom. You two slipped into conversation easily, bonding over how much you hated social events and how you would much rather be doing what you love. You mentioned how you wish you could be writing at this moment, and he looked at you with intrigue.

“So you are a writer?” He asked.

“Well, it’s just something I do to pass the time, although I am very passionate about it. I will admit, I am not the best at it though.” You explained. “And what about you, Lord Bridgerton? What would you rather be doing than to be stuck here?”

“Sketching, or even painting.” He sighed, remembering his latest piece he was working on.

“So you are an artist then?” You have never heard of any Bridgerton being interested in art. It fascinated you.

“Yes, but much like yourself, I do not think of myself as any good.”

“Oh, I must see one of your sketches.” Your curiosity got the better of you, surely he can’t be as bad as he claimed to be.

“Only if I get to read what you have written. I am sure you humble yourself and that you are a skilled writer.”

“How can you be so confident in my skills when we hardly know each other?” You asked and he shrugged.

“Just a feeling.” Benedict sent you a warm smile, making you smile back at him. Your conversation continued until the ball ended, and a part of you was disappointed you had to leave him, wishing you could continue to talk with him until the sun rose.

After that night you and Benedict have become very close friends. As promised, you exchange one of your poems for a sketch of his. You admired it all day, impressed by his natural skill. The next time you saw him you told him how beautiful his art was and how it captivated you. He returned the compliment, saying how you have a gift of evoking strong emotions with just the written words. You could’ve sworn you blushed, but you brushed it off as someone complimenting your work for the first time and nothing more.

You two became inseparable. It was common to see you two together almost everywhere, your arms linked together, laughing at his jokes. For the first time in years, you have shared not only one dance but multiple dances, with Benedict. You never enjoyed dancing, especially when the men you’ve danced with before have talked too much and never let you state your opinion. But Benedict was different, he listened to everything you said and let you speak your mind freely. It was refreshing, and you wished all men could be like him.

You started to enjoy the social events more, feeling excited as one approached. You found yourself putting more effort into how you looked, and you mentally slapped yourself for it. You knew you were doing it for Benedict, and you told yourself you couldn’t fall for him, you refused to.

The next day, Benedict surprised you, visiting your house with flowers in hand and asking to court you. You were shocked but quickly gained your composure.

“I truly am sorry, Benedict. It seems I have led you on somehow. I have no interest in marriage.” You revealed and watched Benedict’s face fall, which broke your heart. He excused himself and you watched him leave, a feeling of regret sat inside you.

Your mother and father scolded you over how you could let such a perfect man get away, but you paid no heed to their words. You wished things were different, but you couldn’t court Benedict. It could lead to marriage, a concept you will always despise.

When you two met again, Benedict told you to forget about all the events that transpired. He told you he would like to remain your friend if you would allow it. You were relieved to hear that. You were certain he would distance himself from you after rejecting him, and you weren’t sure how you could live a life without him. Of course, he didn’t make his feelings forgotten. He would subtly drop hints to remind you of his interest in you and you reminded him of your disinterest in marriage.

You admitted to yourself it felt nice that he tries so hard to get you to change your mind. You never had a man interested in you like this before. If you were to reject any other man, he would have moved on to another lady, but not Benedict. You could tell he was determined to show you he was the one for you and it pained you to not accept him.

One day, you two were walking in the park. You wanted to feed the ducks and Benedict insisted on keeping you company. Currently, you were standing on the bridge, wanting to enjoy the view for a few moments. There was a comfortable quietness until Benedict spoke.

“You have denied my hand in marriage and make it clear you have to intention to marry, but may I ask why? You do not have to tell me if you do not wish to, but I do wish to know if it is something that I have done. Have I made you uncomfortable in any sort of way?”

You shook your head and said. “My refusal had nothing to do with you, my lord. You have been very sweet and kind to me. But you do deserve to know why I rejected you.”

He looked at you, ready to listen to every word you said. You explained, “All my life, I have been surrounded by unhappy marriages. My parents may seem like they care deeply for each other, but it is all an act. I have grown up in a household where my parents would scream at each other, and refuse to be near each other. I always believed love does not exist in the real world. Then all my friends got married, and it is horrible. They tell me how their husbands control them and how they have no say in what they do in their own life. Some of them even go as far as to bash their wives. I thought it was the most absurd thing. People are supposed to protect the ones they love, not harm them.

“I swore I would never get married. I am content living the life of a spinster. The only reason I participate in the season is because my parents force me to. I would rather keep whatever freedoms I have than be trapped in a miserable life.”

You looked out to the view, not wanting to see the look on Benedict’s face, and he sighed. “I am a fool. I could not show you just how much you truly mean to me.” He took your hands into his own, forcing you to focus on him. “Y/N, I-I love you. I love how passionate you are, how you don’t worry about how others may view you, and how kindhearted you are. I could never imagine stopping you from doing what your heart desires. I would rather die a thousand, painful deaths than ever hurt you. I love you.”

“I’m sorry, Benedict. I can’t.” You could see Benedict’s heart drop and you couldn’t stand being the cause of it. Overwhelmed with emotions, you tried to excuse yourself, pulling your hand out of his. “I have to go.” You ran away and didn’t look back.

You haven’t seen Benedict in days, which was the longest time you have gone without seeing him ever since you first met him. You kept replaying your last conversation in your head and how you wish you had the courage to tell him how you truly felt. Your mind kept reminding you of your vow but you could tell your heart was trying to tell you something else, so for once, you listened to it.

You knew deep down how you felt about Benedict. You loved him too. He was different than any other man you have met. He made you feel safe and happy. You could imagine a life with him, getting married and having children together. You knew what you had to do.

You showed up at his house with a single orchid in hand. You saw him sitting outside painting and you were relieved his family was nowhere near, wanting to see him in private. You walked up to him and he didn’t acknowledge your presence, which hurt a bit, but you did not let it affect you.

“May I sit?” He nodded, not looking away from his painting, and you sat next to him.

There was silence for a few minutes, before he asked, “What is the flower for?”

“It is for you.” You smiled, holding it out.

Benedict furrowed his eyebrows and finally looked at you, taking the flower from you. “For me?”

“I wish to court you.” He grew more confused and you clarified, “I realize it is not traditional, but everything else we have done is unusual, like falling in love before we have courted.”

“You mean-“

You nodded before he could say anything else. “I love you, Benedict. I have been denying my feelings for too long, living in fear of what I thought all marriages are, a loveless trap. But you showed me that I was wrong. You never made me feel inferior to you, you listened to me and showed me you care about me. I know I would never feel miserable with you, not when I feel like I can be my true self around you. I love you.”

Benedict didn’t say anything at first, which made you nervous that he would reject you. You knew it was a possibility with the way you rejected him first and ran away from him when he confessed his love. But before you could get up to leave, he pulled you in for a kiss. You quickly melted into it, but before it could go any further, he pulled away and said, “Yes, I will accept your courtship.”

You giggled and kissed him again. You felt fireworks erupt inside you and you knew this is what true love felt like.

#benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton fic #benedict bridgerton oneshot #benedict bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x you #bridgerton fic #bridgerton oneshot #💫.sim writes

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thequeenofsarcaasm · 5 months

Note

What do you think are Geto and Gojo’s greatest personality strengths and weaknesses? Why? What do you love about their dynamic?

I’ll try to make it short. (And probably fail so I apologize in advance)

1-What I adore about Gojo is how terribly human he is despite everything. That might also be his greatest weakness but only because he never truly embraced all that humanity. In a way, he denied himself the chance to be “weak” after Toji almost killed him and it only got worse after Geto (the one person who truly saw him for who he truly was) abandoned him. He “thrived” in individualism but where did that get him? Also, another weakness might be how tightly woven he is with that damn Jujutsu system . He says he wants change (and I wholeheartedly believe him) but he is the embodiment of that very system and its values.

RIP Princess. You shall be missed.

2-Now Geto! My man has many weaknesses. Whew. He lost his goddamn mind to fear and hatred, but despite that he is full of love (in a twisted way). He had that black and white vision of life that transpired in the way he interacted with others and yet he remains in a sort of grey area since he’s so complexe. The immense love he held for his family and friends was only matched by his hatred for regular folks. Remember in JJK0 when he started to tear up during his fight with Panda and Inumaki? 😭 Also, he disliked the idea of having to attack Yuuta, and yet so many other sorcerers (the people he supposedly wanted to protect) had to be sacrificed on that day. A reasonable sacrifice perhaps? Or a desire to sieve the popular further? I want to slap him (affectionate).

That man was the perfect embodiment of “my grandpa was racist as hell but he was kind to me and everyone in our circle so he will be missed.” and it makes him super compelling imo.

I’d also want to add that Geto had a sort of convoluted “selflessness” that wasn’t compatible with his job but remained a big part of his personality post defection. In reality, it was just a coping mechanism mingled with a saviour complexe. He needed an ideology to back his actions and lifestyle (contrary to Haibara or Gojo for ex) . The “protect weak people” bs made the job not only bearable but also ego stroking. Which means that once he stopped feeling good about being a hero FOR the weak (since he deemed them unworthy), he decided to become one for sorcerers and AGAINST the weak. That “us against the world” mentality was born from trauma and fear but also from arrogance and an unhealthy tendency to dichotomise(Gege cooked fr. Call Gordon Ramsey pls). I get it though. After killing the village there was no going back so I probably would’ve convinced myself it was a good idea to keep going until someone killed me or something (a task he “delegated” to his beloved). Had that massacre never happened, I’m convinced someone would have been able to slap some sense into him.

(I wish we knew more about his upbringing tho cause he was a master manipulator and a fucking hypocrite. I want to know where he acquired that skill lol.)

Btw, his greatest strength is that he was hot as f (I’m joking. Or am I?)

Final words on him: Beware of dogmatism y’all. Great men have been lost to it.

3-Now, I love the brat-brat tamer aspect of their duo sooooo much. Gojo was insufferable as a teenager (still is) but Geto was the only person he actually listened to, the person he chose to guide him. It’s funny that in Season 2 EP 1, Geto has to explain to him why Rico wants to spend some time with her friends before the merger but that two episodes later Gojo willfully extended the mission just because she pouted when it was time to go home. He clearly had a good influence on him. Moreover, I love how protective they are of each other. I’m positive Geto wanted to massacre the cult members but turned down Gojo’s suggestion because he knew Gojo would later regret killing them. Now, the thing that really makes my heart throb is how Geto always saw Gojo. While most people see him as a superhuman, a machine even (remember when Nanami said he should take on all the missions), Geto showed a level of care that was so strong that it changed him as a person. I will never not obsess over the glance Gojo threw at him when he asked him if he wasn’t too exhausted to continue the mission. That’s why he never got over that man. I mean, how could he?

It’s not exactly brief but I tried. It definitely could have been worse 😭 I deleted a few paragraphs.

Thank you for giving me the chance to ramble about my beloved wives. It’s a proof of love and I assure you that I love you too.

🫶🏾

#asks #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #geto suguru #satosugu

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graeadalicia · 7 months

Text

Their serious conversation continues, and another fear is quashed...

“Ada.” His voice was soft, his eyes understanding, and the expression on his face affectionate, something that was echoed as well in his voice. “You are unlike any other female I have encountered in my long life, and I do mean that in the only the best and most enjoyable way. I am looking forward to knowing you more, better and deeper.” Grae brushed his lips gently over hers, enjoying the little hum she made in response. “Maybe I have decided that the ways that you are different and unique are what I have been searching for and I do not plan to allow you to escape and another male to steal you away.” Not a lie, just leaving out some information. He would not deny that any male trying to take her from him would face his anger.

Adalicia’s heart felt as if it were trying to explode from her chest, each beat fast and strong, almost seeming to force the air from her very lungs. As she stared up into his dark eyes, so serious and resolute with the declaration he'd just made, her brain did not seem to be able to form words. The Chancellor to the King of the whole realm of Uffern had somehow decided in less than a day that she was to be his wife. She, who until that morning had been nothing more than a chambermaid to the King's own sister. Her head spun with it all.

Grae watched as it all sunk in. She was truly beautiful and innocent. No doubt she was overwhelmed, but from here forward he would help her every step of the way. While Kellen had decreed that they had to marry, it would be he and Ada who set the pace. In every instance since that morning, allowing her to decide things had benefited him. To change that now would be foolish and potentially backfire. He had far too much at stake.

"Rhys?" There was a new question that was occurring to her. One that came from working as a slave within the castle and was burdening her heart. "What about when…" her breath and courage began to falter. After such a declaration as he'd just made, did she even have a right to ask more?

"What, love?" Patience, Grae, calm and patience. He was used to women more akin to Persephone and found them obnoxious, so the timidness of Adalicia was both new and slightly puzzling to him.

Taking a deep breath in, Ada closed her eyes and held it for a few seconds to steel her nerves. When they opened again she asked her question in one quick sentence before she could once more lose her courage. "When I am with your child will you take a concubine as other men of nobility do and send me to country manor?"

It took Grae several beats to fully process what he'd been asked. Then he was left blinking down at her as he tried to determine what she wanted the answer to be. Some women preferred that arrangement as they were allowed leisure and left alone. However he saw how his mother had felt cast aside and replaced, nothing more than an incubator for his father's progeny while he enjoyed the company of the concubine far more.

"No. If you wish to retire to a country manor, I have two and a mountain villa. However, there will be no other but you that shall share my bed. I believe that we established that earlier. Or was I unclear?" It had been the memory of his mother that had been the deciding factor. He would not be his father. While his father was a great statesman and counselor to Kellen’s father, he treated his family poorly.

Ada's head lightly shook, her teeth catching her bottom lip between them. "No, sir." Those big green eyes of hers seemed to stare into his soul.

"Good. I am very glad I don't have to repeat myself." Grae teased her and watched as pink tinged at her cheeks. How much more shocked would she be if he told her everything? What their words earlier truly meant. How fast Kellen wanted a ceremony. Her true lineage was what bothered him the most to keep from her and he wasn't sure why.

Logically that they had exchanged Ufferbian nobility marriage vows seemed like the more pertinent piece of information. But what would it change? Other than getting Kellen off his back,nothing.

#the imperium chronicles #fiction #fantasy #writeblr #my writing #my ocs #dark fantasy #original story #original character #original fiction #demon #fae #demon oc #paranormal romance #supernatural romance #love #lovers #relationship

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jovenshires · 5 months

Note

I feel like the real problem with the shourtney isn't the weirdo (affectionate) tumblr side but stuff like tiktok. Bc with almost every other ship it is only weirdo tumblr kind of people that treat it as ficition but with shourtney there are so many normies that are doing truther shit.

Tiktok is so so so so bad. There is a tiktok with half million views analyzing courtney and shayne selfies and account of their family to "prove" that they are a couple.

They scare me.

I am not part of either group but if you a weirdo tumblr shourtney shipper just know that when people complain about shourtney "shippers" they are talking about the second group of people mostly.

(sorry for so many people using your inbox to do ship "discourse" haha, I am doing too but feel free to ignore and delete this if you don't want to talk about it anymore)

okay so to start off - totally agree with you that it's not really tumblr that's the problem. i will say i don't go into the sh/ourtney tag (bc. not my monkeys not my circus) but at least as far as the mutuals i have that do ship sh/ourtney, they're super chill about it! as we do, they treat the dynamic as purely fiction, they don't ya know. harass anyone.

i (and i say this thankfully) am not REALLY on smoshtok. i get the occasional smosh men or angela thirst edits and that is About it. but i will say this: you all know i am totally against tinhatting in all senses of the word. i try to stay as far away from those sides of every social media platform. so i'm with you, that shit is nasty.

but even after all that - i saw that tiktok. multiple friends sent me that tiktok. i didn't like it or anything or engage with it on purpose but i saw it. and then i found out later that they were both tagged in it, as was the official smosh account. my brother in christ i truly wish i'd never seen it. i think its one thing to look at a picture and be like 'omg they're so cute here' but another thing to compile it as evidence and throw it back in their faces. at that point, it feels like forcibly outing an aspect of their life that they clearly either do not want to or cannot discuss. they are still people with a right to privacy. rpf is just that - fiction. this is something different and i hope they one day have the clarity to see that.

tbh i really appreciate your input; you worded it much better than i did!! this is what i was talking about when i said that this epidemic isn't a huge thing here on tumblr, and i think a lot of that is in part bc the cast isn't here for us to interact with. the official smosh blog has been dead for years and as far as i know (?) none of the cast uses tumblr anymore. i was thinking more of the instagram, tiktok, and some twitter fans. (twitter is a mixed bag though and i won't get into that here. ever.) 9 times out of 10 i am Not talking about tumblr fans when i critique shipping at large. (that is to say not always. we can always work on ourselves and grow as a community. i, myself, am always learning and growing.)

anyway! i wanted to publish this ask, because i think it's very succinct and touches on a subject that i think was very valuable to this discussion (re: tinhatting). this ask is totally fine and did not cross a line in any way and i genuinely appreciate the thought you put into sending it!! that being said - this is probably the last ask i will publish on the subject. though i adore you all and i want you to feel free to speak your piece, frankly, i would also like to maintain my peace knnfnfk i do think that these discussions are important and worthwhile but that being said. i am just one lil guy.

#discourse #shourt crit #rpf #shipping #tinhatting #fandom crit #shipping crit #ask #asks #anon #anonymous #with all the love in the world. tomorrow is my birthday. im already emotional enough and the whole thing is in some ways making it worse so #for my mental health im just gonna be deleting any more asks ab this bc i think we've talked it to death kdnknknf #long post

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rainbowchaox · 1 year

Text

Speaking of? I love the ranchers and it’s not because the sole reason I got into ships which is usually right after the media when my wall gets full of art and fics and it’s because the fandom I usually start to ship. And not because I thought they were cute.

Hell honestly I barely knew Tango before Double Life. Like I knew who he was but literally never watched his content. I honestly was late on the bandwagon on both flower husbands (primarily because it seemed like everyone I knew shipped them and it was too much at the time and once I did ship them they decided that was end of offical content in empires 1) and Ranchers. (I do fancy me some flower husbands but at it’s height I was the person that refused to ship it because it was popular and everywhere lol)

The fans of ranchers were like slightly different in the way that it was like a less a tidal wave of content I saw and more them gushing how adorable they are. I Remeber literally my wall being full of like wishes and prayers for them to win (and we all know how that went.)

Anyways I started to watch them both. I never and I mean never rewatched the same two videos from both channels but I did with the ranchers. I never got into the MCYT shipping sphere more than liking art or maybe reading some fics my friends sent me. Like I said during 3rd life despite watching the flower husbands I was just lukewarm. It could be that I just hopped from dsmp and was a voice in techno chat which was like werid with shipping idk. I knew there was a solid shipping community ESSPECIALLY in dsmp and hermit fans.

I think what caught my eye was because how literally they never even knew each other that well but once they were forced to be soulmates it’s was so genuine and natural? Like it had a sort of easy going that I could dive into without knowing any of their history or inside jokes as a newbie with eyes that only knew Jimmy.

I knew Jimmy and his fanon by heart. So that’s why I was primarily interested in his pov. And Jimmy is bullied (affectionately) and that is well known by his fanbase. And how tango interacted with him was the complete opposite.

They legit didn’t know Jack about each other so both of them fell into their base selves and just decided to be each other hype men. And I find that beautiful and no wonder why this pairing held me by my neck. I AM always weak for pairings like this. And always go for chemistry because I’m ace as heck.

Soon I became another Rancher Fan praying and wishing for their win somehow. I Remember ranting to friends how this pairing could finally beat the canary curse. And I remember when they eventually didn’t.

I never ever felt so strongly about silly Homoromantic esque blockmen. And I Remeber how the fandom of the ranchers all collectively went into what is best called a media depression. But even after like a week all the creatives decided NO and dropped amazing fics and art. That whole week of buff Jimmy art LMFAO.

And how excited everyone was about the reunion (still can’t believe the whole literal hearts eyes in Tango POV. The mad lad my beloved)

And yeah that’s why I think they will always be my ship in MCYT and why I adore it in all its forms. Team Rancher was just awesome at its height. And I think I know why everyone is or was into flower husbands at the ship height if this gives me any hints.

#team rancher #rancher duo

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librosamarillos · 1 year

Text

passed down like folk songs

chapter 18: hand of the king

Maegor Targaryen x OC

Also on Ao3

chapter index

Tags: hurt/comfort, friends to lovers, angst, mature themes, targaryen incest, violence, Maegor is a red flag himself, characters are ooc probably, MINORS DNI

He came to love and value the time he spent on Balerion’s back. It was otherworldly, a place where he felt free to think and feel with no one around to see or hear him, and plot and scheme against him. He’d make more time to fly, once all the work was done. He landed on an empty spot, big enough to fit the dread comfortably, and patted the great beast on the side in gratitude. His giant red eye gleamed, as if to show appreciation for the affectionate moment. Rowan would spoil him in affection. Once she got over any fear of the beast, she would love him, Maegor was sure of it. It pained him to think about the potential what ifs, but they plagued him. Had they been wed, had he been able to show her the world from atop the clouds, he would be doing little else. But he could not distract himself with that now, he’d keep the thoughts for the nights in his chambers.

He could not help but let a smug smirk grace his face as he walked through the castle, seeing the looks on the people’s faces. Their eyes held awe, admiration even, but the ones that satisfied him the most were the petty lords who looked up at him with fear. Little scheming men, who thought they could perhaps weasel their way into the King’s council and inner circle, now that Aegon the Dragon was dead and rebellions broke. He always found Aenys weak, he made no secret of it, but the fact that everyone saw it was what was making their family and house such a target of these lords. They were looking for a weak spot to break in, to destroy them from the inside. But he would allow no such thing, not when his mother had spent her life to conquer this land and unite the kingdoms. He’d make a point to everyone that while Aegon the conqueror was dead, Maegor was a far bigger threat and a force to be reckoned with. He would show them he was better.

He found his half-brother in his solar, dressed in his overly decorated tunic and robes, the ornate golden crown resting on his head. The stress seemed to have aged him a tiny bit, but that was perhaps blamed on little sleep. He was always quite fragile. Upon seeing him, Aenys lit up from his pensive slouch, face suddenly beaming. He quickly closed the distance between them, his lilac robes flowing behind him, as he closed him into an embrace.

“Brother! I am so happy to see you back safely! You’ve done so well, I am impressed at how quickly you’ve restored things!” Aenys smiled, arms still around him.

Maegor felt stiff and awkward, hating the physical contact, seeing it almost as beneath him. He hesitated for a few moments, but then patted him on the back, signalling that the embrace was to now cease. When he pulled away, he saw a certain sadness in the King’s eyes, despite his smile. He was only gone a week, but something had occurred.

“What is it? What has happened?” he asked, straight to the point, making the man in front of him flinch slightly.

“Alyn Stokeworth is dead. He was murdered when I sent him to Harrenhall.” Aenys admitted.

“Why in the world would you send him to Harrenhall? You were present when we were making the plans with my mother, and none involved him going on his own. I was meant to lead the charge there.” Maegor protested, annoyed at Aenys for doing anything against his mother’s wishes. She knew best, why the hell did he not listen?

“I was not intending to go against my aunt’s wisdom, brother, but Lord Alyn had insisted that he could prevent any spilled blood if he went and negotiated with the Red Harren, so I let him.” he explained, regret in his voice.

“You allowed your hand to go and negotiate with traitors? Why in the seven hells would you do that? Bloodshed is inevitable when you rule, traitors must be shown no mercy and put on display, should anyone get any more ideas. Do you think our father conquered this land by asking nicely?” he began to let the anger show in his voice.

“Father made it very clear to me the importance of diplomacy and fairness. Ever since he began preparing me to take over. What kind of King doesn’t at least hear his people out?” Aenys protested, defending his decision.

“Those people are traitors to the crown. They call us abominations because they fear our power and our dragons, they are not on our side, do you not understand? Treason such like this must be dealt with as soon as possible. You are the second King after father, you cannot allow the realm to fall apart a few moons after his death, that’s a pathetic display.” he sneered. “What did diplomacy get you? Humiliation and the death of your hand.”

Aenys nervously played with one of the many rings on his fingers. Gods, just how many rings did a person need? Everything about the man in front of him was too much and yet not enough at the same time. From the stupid ornate gold and bejewelled crown he had made, to the overly decorated tunics he chose and then the long impractical flowy robes he’d wear, he found his half-brother a caricature of a wealthy man.

“You speak no lies, brother.” Aenys finally spoke, after taking a moment to gather himself. “I’ve lost a valuable person in my council because of a bad decision.” he sighed.

Maegor wanted to laugh and ask how valuable this Lord truly was, if the first advice he had for the King had failed so miserably that it cost him his life, but he bit his tongue. This was not the time for any jests. His mother would scold him if he made the King cry.

“You’ll find another. Hopefully someone more competent.” he said, an attempt at sympathy.

“I have found someone, actually. Maegor, I’d like for you to be my hand.” he stated, the smile returning on his face. He grabbed one of Maegor’s hands with both of his. “What do you say?”

To say that Maegor was stunned would be an understatement. He had spent all his years resenting his half-brother, bitterly picking apart all his shortcomings that were being rewarded with a crown, the crown he so desperately saw as his own and now here he was, smiling despite feeling as pathetic as he was, offering him the second most powerful position in Westeros. He felt… happy, in a way. Perhaps his brother saw in him all he had lacked and understood that he was needed to keep the realm going. But any happiness he might have felt was immediately replaced by suspicion.

Why? Surely his council had advised him against it. They took advantage of his indecisive and weak demeanour for their own best interests, surely they would not want Maegor getting in the way of that. Aenys was eager to please his council most of all, as they had all served their father, therefore he felt like he had to, in a way, prove himself to them. He did not go against them for fear of being disliked. Then there was also Alyssa, his Queen, who was also indecisive and fickle, desperate to be loved by all. She never liked Maegor, surely she would be feverishly against this decision. Would Aenys truly do such a thing that would displease them all? No, surely, there must be something else.

“Why?” he asked plainly, not bothering with any formality. “Surely both your advisors and your Queen have urged you against such a move, so why are you making it?” he asked, looking at the shorter man sternly, as if to look for any clues in his demeanour that would give him any answer he was too afraid to speak. Aenys seemed to hesitate.

“Because you’re my brother. You’ve not only proven to me, to everyone, that you are most capable of handling the situations that arose. I’ve never been a fighter, the whole realm knows, I’ll need someone who is by my side.” Aenys explained. He sighed, the words almost leaving him for a second. “When I told you I wanted us to rule together, I meant it wholeheartedly. It was not an empty promise. We are brothers, you and I, I meant it when I said I wish to mend the bond between us.”

An olive branch. This is what it was. Perhaps out of guilt, or desperation to not fail their father’s ghost. Father. He was the one link that connected the two men. Despite both being his sons, Maegor was the only one who looked like him, and if he were to believe all he had heard, he was also the only one who took after him in strength and skill. Aenys took entirely after his mother, feeble, easily distracted, vain. That was all he could remember from his late aunt. Perhaps that’s why their father adored his firstborn so much. He saw his Rhaenys in their useless son, so much so that he convinced himself he’d make a good King. Oh, father, if only you could see your precious boy now. Shaking in his boots beneath the weight of the crown you had made just for him.

But it wasn’t the crown that was on Aenys’ head that Maegor craved, no. It was the ruby encrusted Valyrian steel crown his father wore that he wanted. He would be stupid not to accept what he was offered. All in due time.

“Very well. I swear to you that I shall serve you loyally, your grace.” he nodded.

It still felt strange to address him as anything above himself. Aenys was not someone who inspired any respect in his eyes- but then again who did? Other than his own mother, whom he held to the highest pedestal, there was no other he held respect for when it came to royalty. Not even his own father, not entirely, only when he completely removed the idea that he was ever his father could Maegor see him as a respectable strategist, ruler and warrior. And then of course, Rowan, who had his heart entire. He couldn’t compare her to anyone, for no one could ever compare. Had he respected her any less, he would’ve made sure they were caught in a very compromising position quite publicly, then they could marry. But then she’d face retributions for being an easy woman or someone with loose morals, of which she was neither. He’d never put her in such a position, no, she deserved to be the pinnacle of virtue. In his eyes, that’s what she was.

Aenys gave him an easy smile, relief on his face. He clapped his hands and shuffled with a tiny box in the drawer. He opened it up, revealing a golden pin representative of the position he was about to appoint him. Maegor eyed it carefully, noting all the carved details, before turning his eyes back to the King. Aenys, in turn, took the pin out of the box and approached him, pinning it onto his chest.

“So it’s official.” he grinned. For a moment Aenys turned his eyes toward the pin, his smile falling in confusion, before turning to look at him again. “What’s that?” he asked, pointing at the other pin on his chest.

Shit. He had completely forgotten that without his armour, Rowan’s pin would be visible. He kept his face as neutral as he could, his lips in a straight tight line, while he pretended to look down, as if he forgot what it even was.

“It’s for the Warrior’s protection in battle.” he said as plainly as he could. Aenys nodded, the curiosity still not leaving his eyes.

“Oh! Did Ceryse make it for you? How sweet!” he grinned again, eyeing the pin. “And here I was, worried about you two.” he laughed lightly.

“No, it was my mother who had it made for me.” Maegor was quick to correct him, not being able to think of anyone else that it could be from. Aenys was trying to be close to him, perhaps he’d let him, but this was simply too close. He thought back to their youth, did Aenys remember much of him? Did he ever catch the love struck looks he’d give Rowan? Perhaps he did and thought nothing of it, a mere crush. Did he remember when she gave him her favour in the first tourney he had participated in? If he did, he never mentioned it and Maegor was not going to risk anything by revealing that she was the one who made it for him and placed it onto his heart. He quickly took the pin off, safely tucking it into his pocket, saving it for his drawer later.

“I thought aunt Visenya wasn’t at all fond of the faith.” Aenys raised a brow, ready to push him more, but hesitated, perhaps because the topic was Visenya.

“She said she enjoyed the sentiment of it all. You can have a deep conversation about her religious beliefs if you so wish.” he answered, raising a brow as well, challenging him to question his statement.

“Ah- perhaps another day.” he waved his hand, placing it on his shoulder. “I should let you go, I’m sure you must be tired. I’ll let you return to your wife, I shall make the announcement tomorrow. Rest well, brother.” he patted him on the shoulder and sent him on his way.

He sure seemed to be on friendly terms with Ceryse, friendly enough to be worried about them. He saw no reason to protest this, he didn’t hate her but they weren’t friends either. What he felt was resentment. The one thing that would’ve brought him any joy from the marriage his father forced onto him, a child, had yet to appear, despite how much he tried. He knew it was unfair to place it all on her- she also didn’t like him, and for all he knew, a child would bring her joy as well. He couldn’t help how he felt at all, the least he could do was let her do as she pleased, and if that was bringing her family over and keeping company with his half-brother, so be it.

He made his way to his chambers, sending his servants to prepare a bath for him. Aenys was right, he was quite tired. He liked his baths with water that was scalding hot. He felt it was the most relaxing. He sighed in pure relief when he lowered his body into the steaming tub, leaning back and resting his head on the edge.

Aenys would love to have a goodsister like Rowan. They’d get along, something in him telling him that they’d be close. He thought of this a lot, that idealised fairytale where things went as planned where they lived on Dragonstone, happily married, with their little army of children, before he finally ascended the throne. He didn’t imagine anyone else, just her and their children, sometimes his mother as well, finally calm and relaxed, enjoying her grandchildren. Perhaps Aenys could be there too. Perhaps he’d be much happier as a Prince, with no further obligations or troubles. He’d be free to sing and dance as he wished, maybe he’d enjoy being an uncle far more than Maegor was.

Aenys always called him brother, unlike Maegor, who always felt the need to add the half before the word, a constant reminder that they were only half connected. The shadow of their father loomed large and Aenys seemed to crumble easily beneath it once he realised how big the boots he had to fill were. He wondered, did he know the side of their father that Maegor got? The one that was barely ever there, the one that gave him scarce crumbles of attention, words of praise he could count on one hand, the one that denied him the one thing he’d ever asked him for. No, why would he? Aenys got everything, just as Rhaenys got everything. Alas, Maegor was his mother’s child when it came to the conqueror, no one of importance. But Aenys, unlike his father and aunt, was making an effort, extending him a huge olive branch. Would it hurt to accept it? Would it feel better to talk to him about everything that brothers talked about, to have a bond?

How would he react if he knew even a snippet of Maegor’s mind? He already cowered before him, Maegor could only imagine how much it would frighten him to know the darkness that lied beneath. But perhaps he wouldn’t. Perhaps he’d try. Perhaps Maegor could try as well. Perhaps it would be nice to have a brother. Yes, Aenys was his brother.

No matter how busy, her father always made time to have breakfast with Rowan. It was her favourite time of day, as she knew he’d eventually leave for six moons and this time she would not be joining him. He was acting a bit strange the past two weeks, but he denied it when she asked, today was no different.

“So, what are your plans for today?” he asked, taking a bite of the slice of bread in his hand.

“Well, I have to deliver some letters to the maester, but other than that, I’ll just be around the dowager Queen.” she said, taking a sip of her water. “How about you?”

“I’ll be meeting with the builders, we’ll be supplying them with more wood for the construction of the keep.” he hummed. Duncan seemed hesitant for a moment, meeting her eyes, before deciding to at last say what he truly wanted to. “So… the Prince has returned.” he eyed her carefully, to see her reaction to his words.

“He has…” Rowan trailed, confused as to why he was bringing it up. He knew how she felt, better than anyone perhaps, so what was he trying to find out?

“And how do you feel, now that he has returned?” he urged, making her straighten her back in her chair.

“I’m happy that he’s safe. And I’m happy that he’s been chosen as hand of the King.” she said, but her father was unconvinced of her formal response. She sighed. “I still feel the same way, father. I’m sorry, I’m trying, I promise. It’s not like I want to be hurt.”

“No- no, Rowan, I did not mean it like that.” he reached for her hand, food now forgotten. “I wasn’t trying to push you, things like that cannot be pushed. I just know it must be hard to be around him.” he said, his eyes full of sympathy.

“It’s not so terrible.” she shrugged. She hadn’t told him about their meetings in the Queen’s solar, for she felt ashamed to even say it out loud. She knew it was improper, that a huge scandal could break out should anyone suspect anything. She was his mother’s lady in waiting, she had the excuse of being there in the solar, and he could just be looking for his mother and they just happened to bump into each other. But Rowan knew better than that. She knew he had planned those meetings to happen, but she could not bring herself to leave, not when he was the air that kept her from drowning in a sea of worry.

“I’ve noticed a certain Lord has eyes for you.” he finally spoke again. Rowan looked at him with confusion, before realising who he was talking about.

“Tybolt Lannister?” he nodded. “Father, we’ve exchanged a few words a few times, I highly doubt it’s anything of importance to him.” she protested the statement, finding it now much less humorous than when Lana and Ceryse were teasing her about it.

“Again, I’m not trying to push you to do anything, I’m just trying to say that it’s good for you to think about your possible matches. You never know with these things. How do you feel about him?” he asked with a kind smile on his lips. If she was honest, Rowan wasn’t so sure. Tybolt was kind and very charming, she could not deny that, but beyond that, she wasn’t sure about him. She didn’t know him that well, for all she knew he could be a terrible person, or someone absolutely lovely.

“I don’t know. He seems nice, but other than that, I do not know.” she replied.

“Lannisport is lovely, do you remember when we went? You were quite little the first time, eight? Nine?” her father smiled, causing her to do so as well.

“Yes, it’s a very charming place. I remember it well.” she returned her attention to the plate in front of her, smiling fondly at the memories of her youth and the travels she had joined her father on. Lannisport was one of her favourite places they had been to together. She enjoyed exploring the city, seeing all the goods the merchants had brought from all over the world, and having her father explain to her what each thing was. She missed how carefree she used to feel. Once things had calmed with the rebels, she’d ask for leave from Visenya, for a few moons perhaps, and ask her father to let her join him again. He was her favourite travel companion, from Oldtown, to Highgarden, to even the frosty North.

“He could be a potential match, my love. He’s near your age, quite decent and he could provide you with a very comfortable life. Take your time, get to know him a little more and if he’s to your liking, I’ll make sure he’s a good man who’ll treat you well.” he said softly, studying her face. He frowned when he saw the saddened look on her face. “Take your time, my love, there’s no hurry. I just want you to be happy.”

“I know, father. I’ll talk to him…” she nodded, giving her father a sad smile. He was right, of course, she couldn’t drown in her own sorrow forever. Maegor was married, there was nothing to wait for. She had to think about her future without him, no matter how much it tore her heart to shreds to do so. All she wanted was to fall into Maegor’s arms and hold him and kiss him over and over again, never letting him go. But that was only a fantasy, a childish one she’d better forget if she wanted to ever be happy.

After breakfast, Rowan began her usual routine with Visenya, accompanying her in her meetings, being a scribe for her and it was quite an easy day. They hadn’t talked about Maegor, not anything over the most formal and quick updates. It had been a few days since his return, but she did not see much of him. Perhaps it was for the better. Visenya was in a great mood, her plans for Harrenhal coming to fruition soon. It was a bit eerie how excited she was for violence and punishment, but Rowan chalked it down to distraction from the loss she had faced.

She was enjoying the fresh air of the gardens as she returned from the ravenry, having delivered the Queen’s letters and messages. All she had left to do was tidy everything up and she was done for the day. Visenya had retired to take a bath, so Rowan was a bit slower to return to the solar, choosing instead to walk the long way there, through the gardens. Before she could get too deep into her thoughts, a newly familiar voice called for her.

“Lady Rowan!”

“Ser Tybolt! You’re back so soon!” Rowan exclaimed. Maegor had returned before his knights, flying on dragonback was a much faster way to travel. She had expected the knights he had chosen to remain in the Vale to ensure that things go back to normal, but she supposed Maegor had other plans. Perhaps he’d need them for Harrenhall too.

“Does it please you, my lady?” he asked, offering her his most charming smile, before placing a kiss on her knuckles. Rowan almost blushed at how forward he was, perhaps she had been quite foolish to not notice it as soon as he first spoke to her.

“Oh, I’m happy to see you back safe and sound my Lord. I’m happy the matter was taken care of so swiftly.” she returned his smile. It was true, she was happy to see that no one was injured upon their return.

“Yes, the Prince was… quite eager to deliver the punishments. We saw no battle, yet I think that disappointed him, for what he had us do was… dire.” Tybolt’s expression was an uneasy one, a little shaken perhaps. He shook his head and returned to his charming, easy smile. “But I should not mention such vile things in the presence of such a lovely lady.”

“You flatter me, my lord…”

“I only speak the truth, my lady.”

“But what good would it do me if I were to ignore what was happening around the land? In such times, wouldn’t it be best to always know the happenings of the realm?” she gently asked, almost bothered that he’d begin his sentence and then change the subject. “You needn’t hold your tongue around me, lord Tybolt.”

“I agree with you wholeheartedly, lady Rowan. I’m not insinuating that because you’re a woman you cannot hear it, it’s just that I don’t think any civilised person should. It’s just, the Prince's appetites were…” he trailed.

“They're what?” she asked, feeling her breath get caught in her throat.

“Terribly cruel. The subject would cause upset should we talk about them plainly.” Tybolt said, troubled. It felt wrong to speak about Maegor with someone else, someone who could be a potential match for her, but the curiosity was eating at her. It was strange to see him from the eyes of others, specifically Tybolt. His knights sang him praises, but the Lannister in front of her was hesitant to do so. What had Maegor done to earn such a reaction?

“I… I see. Still, I’m glad everyone is back safely. There are more battles to go and I can only pray they end just as safely as this one did.” she offered him another smile.

Tybolt returned it, opening his mouth to speak, but closing it quickly once he realised someone was coming closer, someone who’s heavy boots she had memorised for years, someone whose pacing she knew by heart. The colour drained from his face when the young lion realised who was behind him. Maegor was frowning, his eyes finding hers, making her heart flutter.

“That is true, my lady, but we cannot shy away from battle, can we?” he asked, his deep voice sending shivers up her spine. Rowan was startled for a moment, afraid she had somehow offended him by saying that, as if to say she didn’t think he could handle battle.

“My Prince, of course not! I did not mean to insinuate any lack-”

“I understand your sentiments, they are fair and kind. There was no offence to be taken.” his eyes softened when he gazed into hers, telling her he knew, he always knew what she meant. But his gaze hardened when he turned to Tybolt, who Rowan forgot was there. “Though I hear some complaints about my methods, Ser Tybald?” he questioned.

“M-my Prince! I- I did not mean any offence!” Tybolt tried his best to not stutter, not even bothering to correct his name for fear that he would upset the Prince even more.

“Do not stutter like a fool, boy, speak clearly. Since you feel so comfortable criticising my methods to a lady, why did you not do so back in the Vale? Was it because you nearly fainted when it was your turn to obey a simple order? Are you only good for jousting at tourneys?” his voice dripped of venom, his frown deepening when the young Lannister could not find any words to respond. He was too stunned to speak. Maegor turned his attention back to Rowan, who was looking at him with wide eyes. “My mother has called for you. Do not allow this poor excuse of a knight to distract you from your duties. Come, I need to speak to her as well.”

Before Rowan could even open her mouth, Maegor began walking away and she followed him without even thinking. She gave Tybolt an apologetic expression, before turning to catch up with his wide strides. The two did not speak at all, walking in complete, uncomfortable silence instead. She knew he was lying, Visenya wished to retire for the rest of the day to relax, there was nothing else she could want from her. But she felt nervous seeing how Maegor was acting. She had so much to ask of him.

“Has he really displeased you so?” she asked as soon as they were alone in the solar, away from prying eyes. Rowan finally got to take a good look at him. He was dressed so impeccably, standing tall like he always did, looking every inch of royalty.

“Most certainly, he has. What good is a knight that cannot complete a simple order? He’s good for nothing, if all I’ve seen of him doesn’t change in Harrenhal.” Maegor responded, looking quite annoyed that she’d mention him at all.

“What he said before… what exactly was their punishment that made him almost faint?” she asked, nervously playing with a ring she was wearing.

“I denied the traitors a quick death. They did not deserve the mercy of the sword, nor their armour, so I had them stripped down and hanged. The realm needs to see that betrayal to the crown will leave them both killed and humiliated.” he removed his gloves, and poured two glasses of water, giving one to Rowan first before taking a sip. “I did not wish for you to hear, I must confess. Your heart has always been kind and delicate, I do not wish to burden it, if I can help it.” he sat down, his voice softer and his eyes on her face. Her brows were furrowed, while she thought, before taking a seat next to him.

“I do not wish to be sheltered from reality. I thought you already knew that.” Rowan frowned, looking down at her glass. Was what he did cruel? He was certainly right, it did send a strong message, one she wasn’t sure Aenys would carry out without Maegor. But was it necessary? She couldn’t pretend to completely understand matters of battle and war, all she knew came from books and stories Visenya would sometimes share. She trusted Maegor, she trusted him with all her heart, she could trust him in this as well.

“I know. But I’ve missed you, and all I’ve been occupied with lately has been battle, I did not wish to speak about it any more.” he reached out and gently took her hand in his, making her gasp ever so softly. Rowan found she couldn’t look at him directly, focusing instead on his warm hands. She gave a small smile when she saw he still wore the ring she had gifted him when they were young, she lightly traced it with her free hand, earning a soft sigh from him. “Has he been bothering you? Do you want me to send him away? Just say the word and he’s gone.” he asked, his voice now serious. She shook her head.

“Tybolt isn’t bothering me. He’s kind and good company.” she said, making Maegor frown at the mention of his name.

“Good company.” he scoffed, sarcastically repeating her words to her. “Do his exaggerations entertain you? I could find you a court fool to make you laugh, if you so wish.” he almost pouted.

“A court fool? Maegor, what is with you and him?” she asked, worried that the Prince before her had it out for Tybolt, who in her eyes was innocent.

“It’s not- I’m not… I bet your father wouldn’t want that coward near his daughter.” he stumbled, but still held onto her hands tenderly, despite his tone.

“My father? He was actually quite fond of the idea that I’d find a match in Casterly Rock. He told me to spend some time with him, see if I like him.” she said, feeling guilty for bringing it up, knowing that the subject of her marriage was a tense one between them. Maegor froze, his hands now clinging on her own while he processed.

“Duncan said that?” he asked slowly. When Rowan nodded, he bit the inside of his cheek, his frown deepening even more. “He’s eager to marry you off to the highest bidder?” he asked, his voice now angry, but still hushed. Rowan felt anger rise inside her at his question- her father would never be so crass. She pulled her hands away from his, placing them on her lap.

“You know my father better than that! Of course he’d never do such a thing. We cannot pretend that I won’t eventually marry, Maegor. He simply wants me to find a husband that will keep me happy. He sensed that Tybolt could be interested and simply asked me to get to know him and see if he could be that person. He’d never push for me to do it, you know this.” she frowned, looking into his eyes. He was still angry, however.

“So you’re more than fine with that pathetic excuse of a man parading himself in front of you? You’d even reward him with your time and potentially your hand?” he protested, reaching back for her hands. “He’s worth nothing, he can offer you nothing. How is that boy going to protect you? He’s useless, all show. He’ll do nothing for you, don’t-” he breathed. “Don’t marry him. Please don’t marry him.” he begged, his voice quiet like a whisper.

Rowan felt her heart break again and again, returning the grip that Maegor had on her hands. She hated this, she hated that they were in this situation to begin with, hated that she’d eventually part with him forever, that she’d have someone else by her side, someone who would never live up to Maegor’s shadow. Just the thought made tears well up in her eyes.

“I don’t wish to marry anyone else, but I cannot- I cannot stay here forever…” she whispered, getting the courage to meet his intense, pleading eyes. Maegor seemed to panic in that moment, reaching out to cup her face softly.

“Forgive me- Please don’t cry. I don’t blame you, I never would.” he pleaded softly, wiping away the few tears that managed to escape her. She revelled in his warmth, at their closeness, she gently placed her hand on his. They stayed like that in a comfortable silence, where Rowan could only hear their breaths and her own heart beating.

“I didn’t even congratulate you…” she broke the silence after a while, gently leaning into his hands that were still holding her. Maegor smiled, glancing at his new pin. “How do you feel?” she asked, leading his hands back to the table.

“Strange.” he admitted. “Good, but strange. I’m pretty sure it’s a kind of olive branch he’s extending me. Maybe he feels guilty and wants to have a brother.” he mused, playing with the rings on her hands.

“And you? Do you want to have a brother?” she asked, studying his face. She noticed how pensive he looked, letting himself be vulnerable away from everyone else. “I think you two could be close. It’ll be nice to make up for lost time, don’t you think?” she asked again.

“I wouldn’t change anything about how I grew up. I got to have you, I wouldn’t trade that for any potential brother. But perhaps… it would be nice.” he admitted, looking down. A small laugh escaped his lips. “I know his council and Alyssa will give him hell for naming me his hand.” he smirked.

Gods, he looked so handsome when he smirked. At that moment Rowan felt ashamed. Ashamed at the unholy thoughts that were in her mind. All she could focus on were his hands- they were huge. And warm, and strong. In his arms, she felt so safe and protected, having him be so protective of her made her feel fuzzy. She wondered how they’d feel roaming all over her- Gods be good, what was she thinking? He raised a brow after he noticed her blushing cheeks, shooting her a smile. Did he not know what he did to her?

“He knew that, and still made his choice.” she smiled. Maegor nodded and traced over the light scarring on her fingertips.

“You’ve been nervous.” he stated, his smile faltering.

“...I was worried about you.” she confessed. “I always do.” Maegor went to speak, but Rowan interrupted him by getting up. “The hour grows late, it’s almost time for supper. I still have to tidy up the solar.”

“Are you kicking me out?” he laughed. “Very well then. I shall see you soon.” he said, getting up as well, making sure to push his chair back in, so that he wouldn’t make a mess for her. He didn’t leave right away, lingering next to her. He took her hand once more, placing a kiss on the back of it, making her heart stop. “I didn’t thank you for your pin. It helped prevent a battle, you know?” he teased gently. Rowan couldn’t stop her grin.

“Oh, come on.” she groaned.

“I’ll be leaving for Harrenhal next week, would you make me another one?” he asked, smiling. He truly liked it so much? How could she deny him then?

“Of course.”

taglist:@heartstalked@stupidocupido@discowizard88@slytherisstuff

#maegor targaryen x oc #maegor the cruel #hotd fanfic

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