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joelsgreys · 1 year

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a safe haven l six

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

series masterlist l previous chapter l next chapter

summary: Joel opens up to you about a very traumatic loss; he makes a confession about his feelings towards you; you make a confession of your own and it leads to something more.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. fluff, infidelity, Joel and reader are having a full blown affair at this point, angst, talks of child loss (Sarah), lots of feelings come to the surface, two idiots realize they are in love. SMUT. oral sex (m receiving), size mention bc i will always be convinced our man is packing) unprotected p in v sex (wrap it up pls), reader discovers she likes praise, creampie.

word count: 8.4k

August 2024

The next two and a half weeks that had passed by had done so without major incident, but things had taken a somewhat complicated turn.

You and Joel still manage to see one another a handful of times even with the exhausting amount of hours he’s been putting into his patrol duties, though it isn’t nearly as often as either of you wanted or would have preferred. But there was no other choice.

After numerous sightings of a group of potential raiders earlier on in the month, Tommy had no choice but to assign every last competent, able bodied patrol person, including himself, to work double shifts to ensure the safety and security of Jackson. He and Joel had come across the remnants of a campsite just about fifteen miles south of the settlement and they worried the group was hiding out, planning a violent, ambush attack on the community when it was least expected. Tommy had done his absolute best to keep the word from spreading throughout the commune to avoid causing a panic, but he found himself having to fess up when people went up to him and all but furiously demanded to know the truth—the real reason behind why their loved ones were now being asked to be on the other side of wall twenty four hours a day, seven days a week.

Joel, who you’d come to learn is one of the sharpest and strongest shooters out of everybody in Jackson besides his younger brother, reluctantly took on the role of lead patrolman. He had been assigned an absurd amount of double shifts to work, including the overnight routes, making it almost impossible for you to see each other. You’d understood he had no choice but to comply, but still—that didn’t make the situation any easier to deal with. Both of you tried to make the very best of what little time you managed to get together, but it hadn’t been nearly enough. As if not being able to see Joel wasn’t agonizing enough for you, the fact that he was out on the other side of the wall scared the hell out of you. The only way to keep yourself from losing your goddamn mind was to distract yourself.

You did everything that you could to keep your mind off Joel being out there. Burying yourself deeply into your work helped for the most part.

Besides that, Joel had asked you, as a favor to him, to keep a watchful eye on Ellie in light of his absence. You’d spend most of the day with her in the stables, you would have lunch with her in the mess hall along with Dina, and in the evening, you would go home and make dinner early enough to fix an extra plate of food for her so she had a nutritious homemade meal to enjoy instead of two decades old canned ravioli. You would take it over to her place and drop it off before Luke came home from the clinic. Ellie waited until it was late in the evening and he was asleep to return the plate back to you, and the two of you would take a lengthy, late night stroll through the town, keeping each other company for a while before heading off to bed. She hadn’t seemed to be all too concerned about Joel, but then again, Ellie had known better than you did that he could take care of himself out there just fine. If anything, you spending so much time with her had been more for your benefit than hers, and you started to suspect that just like Joel had asked you to keep an eye on Ellie, he had also asked her to keep an eye on you too. After all, you had made it abundantly clear to him that you were nervous about him being out on patrol while there was a possible threat looming in the shadows.

By the time the middle of August came around, no additional traces of the group had been found—they seemed to have vanished into thin air, causing a wave of relief to sweep through the town. Tommy and Maria finally decided to ease up and end the double shift assignments, allowing every single patrolman and woman to return to their normally scheduled work rotations. Joel went back to his usual early morning and afternoon patrol hours, which meant that the both of you could resume your clandestine meetings out behind the barn underneath the stars.

“I missed you,” you say, sighing out contentedly as you lean back against him.

You and Joel are sitting out on the large, vacant patch of field behind the barn, his soft, green flannel blanket acting as a barrier between your bodies and the itchiness of the grass the animals would graze on during the day. You’re nestled in between his long legs, your back against his warm chest as the two of you share the delicious, ripe peach he’d brought along with him as a surprise for you.

“Mm, probably not as much as I was missin’ you, sweet girl,” Joel replies with a hum before taking a bite of the fruit. Noticing there’s only a couple bites of it left, he reaches his arm around and holds it out for you, his bulging bicep straining against the sleeve of his faded black t-shirt. “Here, darlin’. Want you to go on and have the rest.”

“These will be out of season in a couple of months.” Giving a sad little pout to nobody in particular, you sigh again and sink your teeth into the peach. Through a small mouthful, you realize, “Who knows when we’ll ever get peaches around here again.”

Joel’s lips meet the spot on your neck right behind your ear and you feel him grin. “S’alright with me. I’ve got my sweet, perfect little peach right here. And I’ve got her all year round.”

You playfully elbow him in his chest. After polishing off the rest of the peach, you lick off the pit and toss it out into the distance.

“Didn’t think you’d be the type to litter,” he teases.

“It’s biodegradable,” you retort with a tiny laugh as you leaned your head back against his shoulder and gaze up, admiring the stars that sprinkle the velvet night skies. “Or at least, I think it is. Come to think of it, I never paid much attention in life science when I was in FEDRA school. It was my least favorite subject.”

You gather your hair in your hand, bringing it over your shoulder to keep it out of Joel’s face.

“Mm,” he whispers, licking his lips as his eyes fall to the delicate flesh of your exposed neck. He ghosts his mouth over your pulse point and his warm breath fans against your cool skin, prompting your eyes to flutter closed. “Just temptin’ me on purpose now, ain’t you, baby?”

“I would never do such a thing,” you object in an innocent tone, and he immediately clocks the smirk behind it. A comfortable silence falls over the both of you and while you’d normally welcome the peaceful, tranquil moment with him, tonight it feels impossible. You had gone so long without Joel over the last couple of weeks—at least, it had certainly felt long—and you realize one of things you’d missed most about him was the sound of his voice. “Ask me a question, Joel.”

“What kinda question can I ask, darlin’?”

Feeling brave, you offer, “You can ask me anything you want. No limits.”

Humming curiously to himself, he tries to think of something he hasn’t asked you before. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Really, Joel?” You snort, trying to mask your laughter as he rests his chin on your shoulder, the scruff of his beard tickling your skin as he presses his cheek against yours. “I just told you that you can ask me anything you want and that’s your question? What’s my favorite color?”

“Yeah,” he answers, simply. “I wanna know what it is.”

He turns his head, lifting it off your shoulder to brush a gentle kiss to your temple. Joel could not, for the life of him, even remember the last time he’d shared this kind of physical tenderness with anybody. Forehead kisses, holding your hand, all sorts of little tokens of affection he didn’t think he could still be capable of giving to someone came to him so naturally with you. You had brought out an entirely different side of him, one that had been buried beneath his rough exterior for well over two decades, and the part that Joel still can’t quite wrap his own head around is that you’d done it with such ease. He’d go as far as to say that you had done it without even trying.

“So?” Joel prompts you. “What is it?”

“It’s brown,” you answer.

“Brown? Why brown?”

“Because. It’s earthy, it’s warm—and your eyes are brown,” you state, grinning to yourself as you feel his loud laugh rumble through his chest and against your back. “What about you? I mean that’s if Joel Miller even has a favorite color,” you giggle teasingly, placing a hand on one of his denim clad legs. You then add, “Actually, I’m kind of curious now. Do you have a favorite color, Joel?”

Joel hesitates, momentarily holding onto his answer.

“I do. It’s purple,” he finally responds after a brief bout of silence. “Purple’s my favorite color.”

“Purple,” you repeat after him, unable to mask the surprise in your tone. “Really?”

Joel chuckles. “What? That weird or somethin’?”

“Uh, sort of. For one, you just don’t strike me as the kind of guy who would have a favorite color in the first place—and even if you’d told me you did, I would have never in a million years guessed that it was purple,” you admit, sheepishly. You trace a small circle around his knee with your finger and curiously ask him, “Why is purple your favorite color?”

“‘Cause. That’s my daughter’s favorite color.”

You scoff playfully. “Come on, Joel. Ellie’s favorite color sure as hell isn’t purple. Her favorite color is green. But red’s a close second.”

When he speaks again, his voice is so quiet you almost don’t hear him despite being in such close proximity.

“I ain’t talkin’ about Ellie.”

At first, it doesn’t quite register, but after a moment of processing, the pieces click together in your mind. Joel has another daughter.

Your smile vanishes and you slowly turn around between his legs to face him. Looking at him with wide, shocked eyes, you utter, “What?”

“Her name was Sarah,” he confesses, softly.

Was.

Your throat dries at his use of past tense.

Because you know exactly what that means.

Opening your mouth to speak, words fail you and you close it. You suddenly remember the way he would tap dance around certain details of his first life in Texas. Whenever he would speak about his life before the outbreak, he would be cautious, careful to watch himself and his words. You’d known Joel had been keeping something from you, something he wasn’t ready to disclose to you for one reason or another—but never would you have guessed that him having a daughter would be the secret he had been hiding.

By now, you’ve turned your body around and you kneel in front of him, sitting back onto your heels. Not wanting to push him too hard or too fast, you clasp your hands together in your lap and wait silently—patiently—for him to continue when he’s ready.

“Sarah’s favorite color was purple. She’d wear it all the time. Her backpack, her school supplies, they all had to be purple or she wouldn’t use them. When she was nine years old, she begged me to paint the walls of her bedroom purple. One day, I took her to Home Depot after school to look at all the different shades.” He laughs, musing, “Didn’t know there could be so goddamn many of them. Anyhow, I told her I’d think ‘bout it. I went back to the store the next day while she was at school, bought a couple cans of the lavender shade I knew she’d like the best and by the time she got home, I had it all painted for her,” he explains, a sadness glazing over the fondness of the memory. “She loved purple. It was the color of the t-shirt she was wearin’ the last time we were together on the night of the outbreak.”

Your heart sinks. “Joel, you don’t have to tell me—”

“S’alright, peach. I wanna tell you ‘bout her,” Joel assures you, reaching out for your hand and taking it in his own. “I trust you, baby. Trust you more than enough to tell you ‘bout Sarah.”

Nodding, you lace his fingers together with your own.

“I was never married,” he starts to say, knowing whether or not he’d also had a wife before the world ended would be a question on your mind—that’s if it wasn’t already. “I was never with Sarah’s mom. I met her in high school and we’d been friends up through senior year of college. We started to date then, but after a year, we realized we weren’t a good fit together. We broke up and a couple months later, we found out she was pregnant with Sarah. Her mom and me, well we both made an agreement to co-parent her as best as we could. Just a few months shy of our daughter’s first birthday, she realized she couldn’t handle raisin’ a child at our age. I tried real hard to convince her to stick around and keep tryin’ but I couldn’t get her to stay. She bailed out on me, but the worst part of it was that she bailed out on Sarah.”

He stops for a moment and you give his hand a gentle, but firm, encouraging squeeze.

“As if bein’ a father to a baby girl didn’t scare the shit of me, being a single father made it all feel so much scarier, y’know? I was young, in my early twenties. I was always workin’ so damn much, tryin’ to build my construction business with Tommy. Now I had this tiny little person to take care of, and I honestly didn’t know how the fuck I was gonna do it.” Joel pauses, his sixth sense detecting that your knees have started hurting from the position you’re in. He closes his legs together and pulls you to sit on his lap. “It wasn’t easy, and I probably made a lot more mistakes than I’d like to admit. But somehow, I made it work and it turned out alright. Sarah was my best friend in the whole entire world. Hell, I loved her more than fuckin’ life itself. She could be a handful, but she was perfect in every single way. She was my sweet little butterfly, my ray of sunshine on even the darkest of days.”

Swallowing harshly, you ask, “What happened to her, Joel?”

Joel sighs, resting a hand on your bare thigh. His fingers skim the scalloped hem of your floral shorts. “It was the first night of the outbreak. We were tryin’ to get out of Austin. Me, Sarah, and Tommy. We didn’t know where the hell we were gonna go or what we were gonna do, but we just needed to get far away from the city. We got separated at one point when our pickup truck got into an awful wreck. I had Sarah in my arms ‘cause she couldn’t walk. She’d broken her ankle in the crash. Tommy told me to get her to the river where she’d be safer, said he’d find his way over there to meet us.”

Your heart begins to pound. Part of you almost doesn’t want to hear how his story is going to end—because in a way, you already know how it’s going to end. But if Joel is telling you about Sarah, it’s for a reason. He’s opening up to you, the way you’ve opened up to him. He’s sharing his heartbreaking loss because he trusts you—and Joel Miller doesn’t trust anyone that’s not his family.

Draping an arm around his shoulders, your fingers toy with the curls at the nape of his neck as you anxiously wait for him to recount the event that follows next, the event that will surely shatter your heart into pieces.

“The streets were crawlin’ with infected. One caught us in its sights and chased after us. Tried to dodge it through a buildin’ but it followed us, runnin’ us out into a field just a mile from the river. I didn’t think we were gonna make it—then, a soldier came outta nowhere and shot it dead. It felt like some kinda fuckin’ miracle. I thought we were lucky. I thought we were gonna get some help.” His voice grows hoarse, thickening with emotions he’s not too sure he can hold back this time. “I couldn’t have been more wrong. He was given the order by his command to kill us both, even though we weren’t sick. I tried tellin’ him over and over we weren’t infected, but it didn’t matter. He shot at us. He grazed me in my side, but Sarah—he got her. Got her multiple times. I was foolish enough to think it hadn’t been fatal. I tried gettin’ her up, begged Tommy to help me—but it was useless. Sarah died in my arms. Took her very last breath in some field outside of Austin.”

“God,” you whisper shakily, a sharp, painful ache shooting through your chest at the thought of him cradling his daughter’s lifeless body in his arms, her purple shirt soaked in crimson. “Joel, I don’t—I don’t even know what to say. I’m so sorry.” Willing yourself to keep it together for his sake, you hold the back of his neck in your hand, fingers coaxing him to look up and meet your gaze.

“After that, I just didn’t see any point in carryin’ on anymore. I’d lost the most important thing in the fuckin’ world to me. I couldn’t see in the darkness now that my little ray of sunshine was gone. So, a couple nights later, I picked up my gun and tried to end my own life,” he confesses. Even though it’s been over twenty years, traces of shame still linger behind. “Put the barrel of a pistol to my temple. Told myself it was what I wanted to do and I pulled the trigger.”

Without thinking, you reach towards the scar on his right temple with your opposite hand, the one you’d noticed for the first time before he had kissed you in Ranger’s stall. You lightly brush your fingertips over the jagged, raised patch of skin. You’d wanted to ask him about it on several different occasions, but never had the courage to actually do it. Now that you know he’d gotten it from his own hand, it just makes the entire thing all that much more heart wrenching.

“M’sure you’ve guessed it by now, but I missed. I flinched and I missed. For twenty fuckin’ years, all I could do was wish I hadn’t missed. Spent a long time hatin’ myself for missin’ what should’ve been the easiest goddamn shot of my entire life. Then, Ellie came along.” Joel moves his hand, gingerly taking your chin between his thumb and index finger. “And not long after her, I met you, sweet girl. The two of you came at me outta nowhere.” He can’t help but chuckle, remembering his first encounter with Ellie, the way she had flown at him with her switchblade clutched in hand only to end up thrown against the wall. “You both came outta left fuckin’ field and brought out sides of me I thought had been dead and buried for years now. You and her, you mean more to me than I can fuckin’ explain. You’re the most important things in the world to me now.”

Your breath catches in the back of your throat at his declaration. It’s not like you didn’t know Joel cared about you. Of course you know that. But the extent to which he did had been something of a mystery, at least up until this very moment.

“I didn’t know I could feel this way ‘bout anyone again,” Joel admits. He slides his arm around you, pulling you closer to him. “Openin’ up my heart to Ellie, that was one thing. But openin’ it up to you? That’s been somethin’ else, peach. I don’t think you even realize the hold you’ve got over me and my heart. What really fuckin’ gets me is that you don’t even gotta try. All you gotta do is look at me with those eyes and give me that pretty smile of yours, and I’m fuckin’ done for. You’ve got me wrapped all the way around your little finger and then back again, baby. Y’need to know that I’d do just ‘bout fuckin’ anythin’ for you. You understand that?”

You stare at him like a deer caught in headlights.

“Joel,” you stammer his name, your nerve endings feeling like they’ve been lit on fire. “You really need to stop talking like that.”

“Why’s that?”

You don’t even think—you just blurt the words out before you can stop them.

“Because I think I’m falling in love with you.”

The tables turn and it’s now Joel who is at a complete loss for words.

Embarrassed by your own admission, you begin to ramble nervously. “Look, I know it’s ridiculous. We haven’t known each other long, but I can’t help it. And maybe it’s for the best if you know where I stand and how I feel. You still have time to back out of this—”

Still holding your chin, Joel carefully brings your face toward his, silencing you by slotting his lips to yours. He moves to cup the side of your face in his palm, forgetting about any kind of softness as he greedily licks into your mouth. He’s kissed you plenty of times before and you thought you knew all of his kisses well enough by now, but you’d been wrong. This one is different from all the rest. His lips move against yours in a possessive manner, but not the kind of possessive you’re used with Luke. No, with Joel, it isn’t a possessive stemming from control and abuse, rather, it’s out of pure need, want, and desire. Even as his mouth devours yours, there’s still a sweet, loving tenderness to it.

“Joel,” you whimper against him. “I—”

You falter, unable to say those three words. There’s something holding you back—maybe it’s fear. Maybe it’s knowing that once you say them, you can’t take them back. Not that you would. But it’s a big step, and you’re not quite ready to say it, even if it is how you feel.

And he feels the same.

He deepens the embrace.

I love you.

Joel might not be ready to say it either, but he hopes the way he’s holding you and swelling your lips with his puts your mind at ease and reassures you that you’re not the only one who’s falling.

You shift yourself in his lap, moving to straddle him, your legs on either side of his thighs as your mouths remain fused to one another. He reaches and grabs for every single part of you that he can, running his hands all over you from your shoulders down to your hips, dragging lower until they’re unabashedly cupping the delicious curves of your ass. You whimper in his mouth again and the moment your lips part, his tongue takes advantage, darting inside to start the heated, unhinged dance with your own.

You clutch at his shoulders, your fingers curling around tight around fistfuls of his t-shirt in an attempt, and a very desperate one at that, to keep yourself planted on the ground. You hold on trying to keep yourself tethered to planet earth, but with the way his searing hot mouth moves with yours in perfect unison, it’s impossible. You’re free falling without a safety net, and you don’t even care.

Seating yourself completely on his lap, you feel the bulge of his cock straining against the zipper of his jeans and the wetness pools between your thighs.

Letting go of his shirt, you reach around him and bury your fingers in his curls, lightly tipping his head back as your tongue explores his mouth like it’s the first time all over again. Joel tastes like the sweet fruit you’d shared, a strange mix when combined with the mint from his toothpaste. But there’s something else he tastes like and you’ve tasted it several times before, however even after all this time, you still can’t figure out what it could be. It tastes like Joel. That’s the only way you can think of to describe it. It just tastes like Joel and it’s addicting and you want it on your lips for the rest of your life.

After a minute, you and Joel finally force yourselves apart, your lungs and his begging for oxygen.

“Joel,” you choke his name between heavy pants for air.

“Baby.” He’s about as breathless as you are, possibly even more. “Baby, please. I’ve gotta have you,” he pleads, hands now splayed on the small of your back. “Please. I fuckin’ need you. Or else m’gonna lose my goddamn fuckin’ mind.”

“Barn,” you rasp out, releasing your grip on his hair.

Confused, Joel’s eyebrows knit together. “Barn?”

“Barn,” you repeat as you climb off of him.

You’re unsteady—incredibly unsteady. Knees wobbling, legs trembling and feeling like they’re seconds away from giving out underneath you. But you hold a hand out to Joel, exhaling a tiny, labored grunt as you help him up off the ground. Grabbing his blanket, you give it a shake before taking his hand in yours and leading him around to the front of the barn. Dropping his hand, you use both of yours to slide one of the double doors open an inch or two and take a peek inside to make sure the coast is clear. You then slide the door open a bit further, just wide enough for you and Joel to slip inside.

“Wait a minute,” he chuckles as he watches you slide the door closed. “How’d y’know it would be unlocked?”

“I didn’t know it would be unlocked. I was just hoping we’d get lucky,” you admit, beckoning him for him to follow you. “Come on.”

Through various cracks and gaps and open windows, enough moonlight filters into the barn, shining a decent amount of light into the structure—enough so that it’s not pitch black and you two are left stumbling around in complete darkness.

Joel glances around. The last time he’d been inside the barn was back in June for the summer party. He remembered it having been cleaned and cleared out for the event and now, two months later, it’s packed to the rafters with countless bales of hay. In retrospect, he shouldn’t have been surprised. But as he walks, piles of loose dried grass and herbs crunch underneath his boots and he remarks, “There’s fuckin’ hay everywhere, darlin’.”

“Um, yeah. What else do you keep in a barn?” you jeer lightly, earning yourself a small scoff from him. “Hey, at least they don’t keep sheep and other livestock in here, Joel. Besides, beggars can’t be choosers, right?”

Joel snorts, masking his laughter at the thought of walking into a barn full of animals instead of an absurd amount of hay. “Yeah, guess that’s fair enough,” he concedes. “Might kill the mood if that were the case.”

You lead him over towards one of the far corners of the barn, your eyes falling to a large, almost bed sized pile of loose hay. Draping the blanket over it, you stand upright and then freeze, your body flooding with nerves once you realize what’s inevitably about to happen between you and Joel.

You hadn’t done anything with him since the night he’d pleasured you out on his front porch. Of course you wanted more, so much more, but that doesn’t make you any less nervous. You’re so much younger, hardly have any experience—you’ve only ever been with one man, and even then, it hardly counts. It’s been such a long time since you’d found sex something you wanted, something you enjoyed. Whenever Luke touches you, it makes your skin crawl, but when Joel Miller touches you?

It sets you ablaze, leaves you needing more of it. Of him.

Part of you wonders if your touch makes him feel the same. What if it doesn’t?

His arms wrap around your waist from behind and you exhale the breath you’d been holding shakily.

“What’s the matter, darlin’?” Joel murmurs softly into your hair, sensing your pensiveness.

“I’m just really nervous,” you blurt out.

“S’okay,” he says, quietly. “M’kinda nervous too.”

You’re slightly taken aback. “Really? What are you nervous about?”

Joel rests his chin on your shoulder. “We’ve both crossed a lot of lines already, peach. But this one? S’gonna be the one we can’t come back from,” he tells you. “Might be what seals the deal between us, y’know?”

Slowly, you turn around to face him. “Yeah, I know,” you respond, peeking up at him through your eyelashes. “And I know I should care, but I don’t. It’s wrong, isn’t it?”

“S’wrong,” he agrees with a tight nod. “But I don’t care either, sweet girl.”

Before you can utter another word about it, Joel crashes his mouth onto yours. He snakes one of his arms around you and lifts the other, cupping the back of your neck as he ravages you with his lips and tongue, kissing you with such urgency, such desperation that it melts you into a whimpering mess in his arms. Your mind is hopelessly lost in a thick, cloudy haze—all you can focus on is breathing him into your lungs like he’s the air you need to stay alive. His hands fall down to the hem of your white camisole and his mouth abandons yours to pull it over your head. He discards it, tossing it over his shoulder somewhere behind him. He then pushes your shorts and underwear down your legs and you kick them off along with your shoes. You’re now standing before him completely naked.

Desperate to feel his skin against yours, you take the hem of his t-shirt and clumsily tug it over his head, eliciting a laugh from him. You throw it somewhere over his shoulder to join yours and your hands eagerly meet his warm, bare chest for the first time. Biting down on your bottom lip, your trembling fingertips brush over several bumps and rough, raised patches of skin that you know have to be his scars. He has so many, and all you want to do is kiss each and every single one of them, but Joel has other ideas. He pulls you into his arms, flush against his chest, and he holds you tightly.

More often than not, Joel feels as if you’re not real—worries that you’re just a perfect, flawless figment of his own imagination. He doesn’t know whether or not you’ve caught onto what he’s been doing, but he steals moments like these whenever he can, moments where he stands there and takes you into his arms and holds you without saying a word.

It’s his own way of reminding himself that not only are you real, but you’re real and you’re his. Joel doesn’t care about the fucking ring on your finger. He doesn’t care that you’re promised to another man. He doesn’t care that he can only hold you in secret, that he can’t walk next you down the streets of Jackson in broad daylight and hold your hand while doing so. He doesn’t get to share a roof or a bed with you and he doesn’t get to join you for dinner at the table every night—maybe this isn’t how he preferred things to be, but he just doesn’t care.

It doesn’t matter to him.

Nothing matters to him except for one thing.

Your heart belongs to him. It bleeds with his name.

You’re his. You’re all fucking his, and only his, in all the ways that truly matter.

And he is yours.

Joel chokes out a strained groan as you press your plush lips softly against his neck, your tongue swiping across his pulse point. You firmly suckle his flesh, hard enough to break the tiny blood vessels underneath his skin and once you’ve left your mark, you trail your lips down his neck, eliciting another strangled noise from him. You sweep them over his collarbone, then down the length of his chest, showing each scar you come across with the affection it deserves. Your teeth nip and scrape at the softness of his belly and you quickly discover that it’s one of your favorite parts of him. Lowering yourself to your knees, your nose skims over the trail of dark, coarse hair below his navel and your fingers suggestively skim the waistband of his jeans.

His eyes widen. “You ain’t gotta do that—”

“I already told you, Joel. I want to,” you assure him, your voice low, sexy, filled with a lust for him and only for him. You make yourself comfortable, a challenging feat since you’d overshot the blanket and are now kneeling directly on the itchy, dried grass. It doesn’t matter, though—you’re more than willing to deal with discomfort for him. You place a hand on his hip and peer up at him. Your eyes meet his in the milky white moonlight. “You made me feel good. Please, just let me do the same for you?”

The nod he gives you is so subtle, so quick, that you almost don’t catch it.

He’d grown tense beneath your touch.

You can’t help but laugh softly—not at him, but at the fact that he doesn’t realize that pleasuring him isn’t a want for you, it’s a need.

Gently, you pat his hip. “Relax, honey,” you encourage him, surprised at how the pet name rolls off your tongue with such natural ease.

Your hands reach for the button of his jeans and you swiftly undo it, then tug at his zipper. You start pulling the denim down his legs. Joel helps you, kicking off his worn, black leather boots before stepping out of his jeans, kicking the article of clothing off to the side. Heart racing in anticipation, you slide his dark boxer briefs down his legs, but stop short, breath hitching the second you feast your eyes on his cock. You’ve felt him through his clothes before, knew he was well endowed, but you’re still shocked to see just how big he really is. The mere thought of his hard, thick length filling you up and stretching your cunt makes your entire body ache with need. You can’t be certain how he’ll fit, but truth be told, he could tear you in half and you would thank him for it.

Joel draws in a quick, sharp breath when he feels your small hand wrap around his base. Just as fast as he’d breathed it in, it’s knocked back out of his lungs when your other hand joins in and you run your fingertips along the thick, prominent vein on the underside of his cock. He twitches in your hands—you’ve hardly touched him, haven’t even put your mouth on him, and he’s already teetering on the edge.

“Christ, baby. You’re gonna be the fuckin’ death of me, I hope y’know that,” Joel croaks, tilting his head back to look up at the rafters as he silently wills himself not to explode too soon. His hips involuntarily jerk forward as you lick his tip, collecting his leaking precome on your tongue before wrapping your soft lips around it. Another loud, ragged groan tears from the back of his throat as you take him in slowly, inch by inch, further into your warm, wet mouth. Your own moaning around him causes a vibrating sensation, making it harder for Joel to keep himself from spilling into your mouth.

“Fuck, peach,” he curses, feeling the head of his cock nudge the back of your throat. He’s more than a mouthful for you, but you accept the challenge with eagerness and take him in further, gagging around him as drool dribbles down the sides of your chin. You, the same woman who just moments ago had said she was nervous about being intimate with him—whoever that woman had been, she was long fucking gone.

Joel’s eyes flit down and he sinks his teeth hard into his lower lip. He can see your silhouette as you work him with that pretty little mouth of yours. One glance is all he can handle before he’s squeezing his eyes shut, the pressure building in his lower abdomen and already dangerously close to reaching its peak. If Joel so much as looks at you again, he’ll come down your throat, and that’s not where he’s planning on finishing tonight.

You bob your head back and forth on his cock, your eyes watering each time he slips past the back of your throat—your cheeks hollow as you suck him greedily, and you alternate between that and stroking his long, thick shaft, your tongue swirling around his head.

Without opening his eyes, Joel reaches down with his hand and cradles the back of your head in his palm. The sounds that fill the barn are nothing short of obscene. His grunts and groans mixed together with the sounds of the moans you’d release in between your wet and sloppy slurping. He forces his eyes open and bravely takes another look at you, his heart slamming painfully against his sternum as you move your head faster, chasing his release as if you’re chasing your own.

“Fuck, baby—wait, stop. Need you to stop.” Joel’s hand leaves the back of your head and he cups your jaw, gently, but firmly, forcing you to release his cock from your mouth with an audible pop. “Ain’t gonna last much longer, not if you keep on like that.”

“Isn’t that the whole point?” you ask, smirking up at him as you wipe the mixture of his precome and your saliva away from your chin with the back of your hand.

Joel leans over and takes your arms, effortlessly yanking you up to your feet. His hand dives between your thighs to get a feel—to find whether you’re ready to take him or not. He slips two fingers between your soaked folds without so much as a warning, causing you to gasp out and grip his biceps, your fingernails digging into the firm muscle. Joel withdraws his hand from your cunt, admiring the way his digits come back coated with your slick. He looks at you, his eyes locking with yours as he lifts his hand to his mouth and slowly licks his fingers clean.

That alone nearly makes you come undone, almost makes you melt into a pathetic, whimpering mess at his feet.

“Joel,” you say his name pleadingly. “Please.”

Sliding his fingers out of his mouth, he steps forwards and curls them around your wrist. “What is it, my sweet little peach? Hm? What do you want?”

“You. I want you,” you answer. You’re quick to correct yourself. “No, I need you. I fucking need you—I need you more than anything I’ve ever needed in my life, Joel.”

Leaning down, Joel skims the tip of his nose against your cheek before bringing it down along your jawline. “Where, darlin’?” he whispers huskily, sending a shiver up your spine. “Where do you need me, baby?”

Your mouth falls open slightly unable to say it. You don’t know why you’re suddenly shy, flustered as if you just hadn’t been down on your knees gagging around his cock.

“Tell me, peach,” he coaxes you gently with another low whisper. “Tell me where you need me. Tell me where you need my cock, sweetheart. Need to hear you say it.”

“Inside me.” Blazing heat floods your face. “I need you inside of me—I need you to fuck me. Please, Joel.”

“So polite ‘bout it, too,” he remarks. “What a good girl.”

Though he says it in a teasing manner, his praise nearly makes you collapse.

“You like that,” he realizes, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. “Yeah, baby? Y’like it when I call you a good girl?”

“Fuck, I—yes, I do,” you confess.

“C’mere.” Joel wraps an arm around your waist, hand splayed over your back as he lowers you down onto the blanket. He follows suit. You both let out breathy laughs at the way your naked bodies sink down into the pile of hay. Propping himself up with his arm, Joel looks down at you, his smile fading as a serious expression crosses his features. He tucks a lock of hair behind your ear, finger grazing the silkiness of your cheek. “Y’sure ‘bout this, peach? Ain’t too late to stop.”

Smiling softly, you lift a hand to the side of his face, your fingers stroking his graying beard. “I’ve never been so sure about anything, Joel,” you promise him. “If you could take a peek into my mind, you would see how bad I want this, how bad I need this—how bad I need you. I don’t want to stop.” And you don’t just mean the sex. You don’t any of this to stop—the secret, late night meetings, the stolen kisses, the illicit affair. “I’m sure about this. I’m sure about you, Joel.”

That’s all he needs to hear.

Joel reaches down between your bodies, gripping his base, pumping his throbbing cock in his fist before lining himself up at your sopping entrance. Adrenaline courses through your veins—every nerve ending in your body is going up in flames. You spread your legs wider for him, hoping he’ll understand the nonverbal cue. He does. He begins to ease himself into your cunt and you hook a leg around his waist, encouraging him to go deeper. The barn fills with the sound of his grunt and your loud cry at the initial stretch. He sinks his cock further into you until he bottoms out and you cry out again, feeling a delicious burning sensation as he cradles his hips between your thighs.

“M’gonna need you to relax a little sweetheart,” he whispers gently, ceasing his movements to give your body a chance to adjust to him. Joel takes advantage of having you pinned underneath him with your head thrown back and his lips latch onto your neck, hungrily. He fervently kisses his way down the column of your throat, nips his way to your collarbone—but unlike you, he’s careful to do so without leaving any kind of mark behind. He would give anything to have the freedom to leave traces of his loving all over you. Maybe it’s the heat of the moment and the way he’s buried inside you to the hilt that brings out the primal in him, but Joel wouldn’t mind seeing you walk around Jackson covered in his love bites. He wants everyone to know he’s the one who’d left them behind, needs them to understand that you’re his. But that isn’t possible. Joel lifts his head from the hollow of your neck and nibbles lightly at your chin. “You alright, baby?”

Forcing your eyes open, you lift your head and bring yourself to look at him. At first, you feel discomfort, but after a minute, your body finally relaxes around him and it subsides. It’s replaced with the burning desire to feel more of him. The pretty glow coming in from outside the barn illuminates his face and you smile. “I’m better than alright. I’m perfect,” you assure him. You place a hand delicately on his chest, feeling his heart thrum hard against your fingertips. “This is perfect.”

Joel kisses the tip of your nose. He slides out of you slowly, then right back into you in an experimental thrust that brings your body off the blanket, your back arching in sheer pleasure. It’s such a deliciously tight fit, and he almost can’t believe how fucking good it feels to be sheathed in your taut heat. He drops his head, taking your breast into his mouth, tongue swirling around your hardened nipple as he bucks his hips once more. He’s being careful. Too careful.

“Joel—I need you to move,” you gasp. You drag a hand down his chest and over his soft stomach, letting your fingernails rake lightly over his flushed skin. It’s warm to the touch, covered in a thin sheen of sweat. “Joel, please. Fuck me.”

Thankfully, you don’t have to tell him twice.

Joel releases the pebbled flesh from his mouth with a loud, lewd pop. He pulls his cock out of your dribbling pussy, then slams back into you with such force that he places a hand on the crown of your head, keeping you in place underneath him on the blanket. You wrap your own leg around him, locking your ankles together, your heels digging into the firm curve of his ass. You lift your hips just as he rolls his own right into them. The new angle gives Joel the opportunity to fuck you even deeper and he hits the sensitive, spongy spot inside you, making you see stars. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you hold onto him, moans you’ve never heard come out of your own mouth before ringing in your ears and in his. He starts picking up his pace.

“Baby.” He’s breathless and speaks between every snap of his hips. “Fuck, y’feel s’good—s’tight around me—”

“Don’t stop, Joel. God, please don’t fucking stop,” you plead him, your finger burying themselves in his hair. “Keep going, just like that—fuck, you feel so fucking good inside me—”

You bite down on your bottom lip, adoring how Joel squeezes his dark eyes shut each and every single time the head of his cock brushes that one particularly deep spot inside of you. Knowing that you and your body has this kind of an effect on him, it gives you a boost of confidence. You’ve spent the last couple of years allowing a pathetic excuse of a man—if one could even call him that—pick on you, say things about your body, and make you feel like your inability to conceive a child made you defective. Worthless, even. And here’s a real man, one who makes you feel beautiful with the way he talks to you, the way he kisses you, touches you, and fucks you. You’re not perfect by any means, but Joel Miller makes you feel what your own husband doesn’t.

He makes you feel like you’re enough. More than enough.

The barn fills with a combination of moaning, panting, and the sound of damp skin slapping against damp skin.

Glancing down at you, Joel shakes his head and warns, “Ain’t gonna last much longer, baby. M’so goddamn close.”

An unexpected wave of courage washes over you. Planting your hands firmly on his chest, you take him by complete surprise and slide out from underneath him. A small grunt escapes him as you push him onto his back. Amused, you can’t help but giggle at the shocked expression on his face as you guide him to lie down on the flannel blanket. Eager to see his reaction, you keep your eyes trained on his face as you straddle his lap. You grip the base of his cock in your hand and then slowly sink down onto him, your cunt greedily squeezing him as you slide down until you’re fully seated.

Joel’s jaw falls slack. It’s the most stunning sight he’s ever seen.

You, completely naked on top of him, your pouty lips plump and swollen from his kisses. Your smooth, supple skin glows in the moonlight shining through the open window behind you. All while every inch of Joel’s cock was buried deep inside of you, head nudging at your cervix. Eyes glimmering devilishly, the sexiest little smirk tugs at the corners of your mouth. “Like what you see?”

He tries to speak, but he can’t.

You’ve rendered him speechless.

Grabbing his hands in yours, you guide them to your hips. His blood roars in his ears and his fingers dig into the pillowy soft flesh, holding on as you begin to rock them back and forth. You throw your head back, your hair spilling over your shoulder. The friction of your clit against his pelvis heightens your pleasure. Joel had thought he would be the one to topple over the edge first, but he’d been wrong.

Eyes pinching shut, you start bouncing yourself on his cock, your desperation mounting. You feel the tension between your hips coiling back tightly, ready to snap forward.

“Fuck, Joel—I’m gonna—I’m so fucking close.”

“Yeah, that’s it. Fuckin’ come for me, baby,” Joel encourages you, his fingers digging even harder into your hips. One of his hands abandons your side and he reaches up and gently takes your slackened jaw in the palm of his hand. He coaxes you to look down at him. “Need you to be a good girl and look at me, peach,” he instructs you, slipping his thumb between your parted lips. “Need to see that pretty face of yours when you come all over my cock, sweetheart.”

“Oh fuck—fuckfuckfuck!”

Crying out, you unravel and fall apart all over him, the ecstasy blurring the edges of your vision.

It doesn’t take Joel much longer to follow. He lets out a low, guttural growl, choking out a string of profanities as he slams you down onto his lap and holds you in place, spurts of warm come coating your velvet walls. Your pussy squeezes him, draining him of every last drop.

You collapse forward onto him in a sweaty, whimpering mess and he wraps his arms around you. With him still inside you, you both lay there and try to catch your breaths as the high slowly but surely begins to wear off.

After a few minutes, Joel pulls out of you and he shifts your bodies, moving you so you’re now laying beside him. Tucking you against his side, he slides his arm around your shoulders and pulls you even closer. His other hand finds one of yours and he takes it, bringing them both to rest on his chest.

“You alright?” he asks you, lacing his fingers together with yours.

“I’m great,” you answer him tiredly, prompting him to chuckle. “What about you?”

Joel strokes at your hair. “Never been better, sweet girl.”

You groan. “Joel, don’t do that,” you mumble into his shoulder. “You’re going to put me right to sleep.”

He laughs again. “We’ve still got a bit more time, y’know. If you’re tired, you can take a quick nap. I can wake you up in ‘bout an hour when it’s time to head home.”

“No, that’s okay,” you decline the offer, worried he would accidentally fall asleep too. “I really wish we could sleep together—I mean, actually sleep together. In an actual bed. Not having to worry about anything. Just like normal couples do.”

“Well, we ain’t exactly a normal couple, darlin’.”

“No, we’re definitely not,” you murmur. You don’t even realize how sad you’d sounded until you feel Joel give your shoulders a comforting squeeze.

Neither of you say anything else about it as you spend the next hour laying there, tangled up in each other’s embrace, waiting until it was time to go your separate ways.

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shrimz08 · 2 months

Text

AANG ＆ OZAI PARALLELS: DEBUNKED

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Because apparently the true villain is the sole survivor of a genocide of his entire nation, and not the imperialist colonizer.

Where do I even begin?? Because I’m genuinely holding in laughter writing this, it’s absolutely insane how certain people can make such egregious parallels that aren’t even found in the first place.

AH, so a little backstory on how this fucking shit stained idea even came to existence, well our dear z^tara fans pissed their pants over Zuko and Katara not tying the knot, so, as a way of retribution for their supposed “honour” They take any chance to jump on the Aang hate train and make him into some irredeemable abusive demon, aaand they got that perfect opportunity because the LoK decided to take a lick out of the great “Main Characters Must Be Bad Parents In The Sequels” Trope. Which personally, does absolutely nothing to the protagonists resolution aside from cheap family drama but I digress.

Now, I’m not behind the idea of the writers trying to make Aang a “flawed” Parent, I think it really makes no sense by how they went about it, (I might touch on this in another post)

((And it’s so very clear that they’re trying to give it a soft “retcon” And even taking extra steps saying that Kya and Bumi just “remember wrong” Which I’ll actually take, because season two of LOK was hell on earth anyway so you might as well give it some saving grace.))

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There’s three main parallels that they got from Ozai and Aang: (god help me)

Favouring a child

isolating the rest

leaving pressure On the golden child

I’m going to debunk all three of them while trying not to fall into complete lunacy over how ridiculous they are.

Favouring a child + Leaving pressure:

OK, so people are clearly blind with context clues and media comprehension, got it. No surprise whatsoever. I can’t be disappointed if I didn’t even have any expectations to begin with.

Let’s compare the treatment on how Ozai treats Azula, and how Aang treats Tenzin. (Holy Shit)

Beginning with Ozai, well.. It doesn’t take much of a rocket scientist to understand that Ozai essentially could not give two fucks about Azula, as she in essence, serves the role of an attack dog, as long as it does its job, it’s worthy.

Ozai favoured Azula because she was molded to match his ferocity and hunger for power, she was a prodigy bender, and was cunning and calculated, all traits that Ozai found endearing and someone worthy to be crowned the next “fire lord.” His “favouring” Of her didn’t come out of genuine love or care, she is his tool who serves a purpose. In short, she showed more competency and more ruthlessness and callousness in comparison to Zuko. Which earned her, her place as the “Golden Child.”

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None of this is even remotely similar to how Aang treated Tenzin and his kids, aside from the fact he supposedly “favoured” Tenzin more, but that is such a baseline statement and has absolutely no relation with Ozai's reasons.

You have to understand that an entire FUCKING NATION IS DEAD. History, Culture, Tradition, is at the BRINK of being wiped out, Tenzin is quite literally the only Airbender that will be left after Aangs passing. Why do people devalue this concept so much?

“B-BUT THE AIR ACOLYTES1!!” Still have limited knowledge, airbending is so heavily tied to its spiritual roots, you LOSE your ability to AIRBEND, if you aren't inclined to your spiritual side. Which is a core part of the air nomad culture. Tenzin is... Literally the only god forsaken part left of that, so yeah. It’s a pretty big fucking deal. Aang values his culture and teachings to such a high degree, he is literally the survivor of a genocide. His favouring of Tenzin was done out of necessity and love, not out of a need for power and a new attack dog to send orders around.

Tenzin will literally be the future “Director” Or guide for the next avatar to learn airbending, people still forget this, and it’s hilarious. He needs to know all the moves, all the teachings because he will be the next avatar's personal guide.

Aang constantly reassures him, and apologizes for the pressure that may be put upon him but he always reaffirms that he’ll be there to guide him and they’ll “learn together”

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So yeah not the same thing at all. Fuck you for being so inept at understanding the different reasons and perspectives of those situations, just for some petty ship discourse, genuinely disgusting.

Isolating the children:

OK this part, I have to say that the writers definitely messed up with aangs characterization, but I think the execution came out way differently than the intention, so I will try to look more into the intention of each decision.

Ozai isolated Zuko, mistreated him, belittled him, PHYSICALLY ABUSED HIM, but yeah totally on par with Aang actually.

I don’t wanna touch on this part much mainly because his treatment was literally explained all throughout the show, and granted, while I understand most of these people haven’t touched the show aside from reading fanfic 300000 Where Aang is revealed to us as satan himself, but perhaps, even a small peak at Ozai's parenting would reveal the laughable contrast between the two.

Zuko was a slow learner, and much more of a softie, and a “mama's boy” To Ozai’s heavy dislike, he was thus treated as such, he was belittled, turned down, and literally burnt alive for showing “weakness” He is meant to serve as a direct contrast to Azula, ”The everything he isn't.”

Kya and Bumi on the other hand, don’t show any actual signs of trauma aside from some petty jabs they threw at Tenzin,

Bumis talk with Aang at the statue was *very very* Clearly, meant to highlight his own inferiority complex that he internalized growing up. His need for proving himself to be capable of doing just as much if not more than a “bender” Probably happened because his two parents were both prodigy benders and him being a first born son who was a non-bender must’ve hit pretty hard for him, and I’m so sure that katara and Aang reassured how special he is but that kind of thing doesn’t really go away.

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Kya: [while healing Bumi] I told you those rocks were slippery. You're lucky you didn't kill yourself.

Bumi: You done with the lecture, mom?

Kya: Oh, grow up. You haven't changed one bit since we were kids. You're still trying to prove you can do everything a bender can. Well, you can't. Deal with it.

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That talk with Aangs statue was very much meant to unveil an internal struggle rather than a conflict he had with his father. Kya even doubles down on this, telling him “of course he’d be proud of you” Basically spoon feeding to us, the viewers, that this is much more of internal than an external conflict that he has to overcome along the show.

“Why Didn’t he share his culture with them 1!!1!”

He most definitely did, or tried to, but it’s clear they didn’t show much interest so he didn’t pester, this is shown many times throughout the show.

“You know I could never keep all those gurus straight… There were like a million of them!

remember that long boring story about the guy who never ate?”

This is literally Kya’s remark to Tenzin just after he tried teaching the airbender students this story, basically telling us that Aang DID try to tell them about his stories and culture, but much to their disinterest, didn’t try any further.

And Bumi, literally could not pay attention to the story to save his life, and instead decided to fool around in his literal 60’s!! I mean Imagine what he was like when he was a kid!!

I could imagine their dynamic was very similar to Jinora with Meelo and Ikki, Tenzin being the only one with actual interest and care, whilst Bumi and Kya goofing off and not putting much focus onto it. WHICH IS FINE BTW!!

It only goes to reiterate that Tenzin was the only one who was actually giving interest and attention to the air nomad culture, and it was of Kya and Bumi’s own personal choice to not partake in it. To each their own I see.

“BUT WHAT ABOUT THE VACATIONS”

This.. I agree, weird for the writers to decide this, but given how they low-key are retconning it in interviews, my best guess is that each of those trips were side-quests during their journey to teach an important lesson that might’ve just drowned out because Tenzin may not have remembered it as well.

Also keep in mind that Tenzin was put into a lot of pressure, Aang probably saw this, and as a way to still keep it enjoyable, he took him to trips that would help ease the mind for a little kid whilst also learning something valuable. That seems pretty on brand for Aang actually

And given that Kya and Bumi are literally in their fucking 60’s it wouldn’t surprised me if they didn’t have the greatest memory. Hell, they didn’t even fault Aang as a parent until Tenzin started boasting about “trips” That Kya and Bumi gave petty jabs but weren’t actually showing genuine hurt, just annoyance.

Kya even comments how Aang was too busy “Trying to save the world, and doing his duty that he didn't have much time for them”

Phrasing as if it wasn't anything "important" But it's clear that this was Kya's own personal irritation towards Tenzin rather than an actual evaluation on Aang's duties.

A continuation comic best explains it in a deeper way:

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Literally showing that “neglecting” His kids wasn't up to him, and was out of a sense of necessity, trying to cram as much knowledge onto Tenzin, the only one who was basically putting his lessons into practices. Kya and Bumi were left feeling neglected. But that wasn’t out of his decision; he still loved them dearly.

-------

This. Literally highlighting how much pressure was forced upon Aang, so yes, as any person would, he struggled with making time for everybody. Holy shit who knew??

GASP!! IS THAT… A REALISTIC BUT UNDERSTANDABLE FLAW!!?? HOW DARE YOU! ITS OZAI #2

The fact that the smiley energetic person forgets to SMILE, is a big deal, man was put through hells amount of stress but he never cracked.

So tell me, how is a genocidal freak, who treats his golden child like a tool and abuses the other both physically and emotionally for showing “weakness’

Even remotely comparable to

the sole survivor of a genocide, trying to withhold his teachings and culture onto literally his only child that showed actual effort in doing so, while also maintaining the balance of an entire fucking world and being literally the biggest “advisor” And “Mentor” For society, OH! And also building and managing a literal city, but along the way struggling to make time for his children.

Guess what, they’re not. And if you think they are. You are an idiot, with bias and headcanons.

So the conclusion is, Aang is a flawed parent, but he isn't a "bad" Parent - confirmed by the literal writers.

Comparing him to Ozai a literal dictator, is absolutely sickening, just for your petty shipping discourse when this show's been over for a decade is insane. Indulge in what you enjoy, but stop projecting delusions like they're canon.

#atla #avatar the last airbender #aang #pro aang #aang defense squad #the legend of korra #tenzin #kya ii #bumi ii #how could you hate this cutie #anti anti aang #anti zutara #pro kataang #kataang #you all suck #anti zutara fandom #katara x aang #aang meta

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zafirosreverie · 1 year

Text

Not enough (Bruno x Reader)

For @tolkien-fantasy hope you like it

__________________

You sighed and tried to block the pain from your mind as you let Casita help you to the nearest chair. You were sick of this, of not being able to do things by yourself and having to depend not only on your family, but on the house itself. It's not that you weren't grateful, but each day you felt more like a burden than a person.

"Thank you Casita" you whispered

You didn't even pay attention to the little tile that waved in greeting, you were too busy gently rubbing your hands and trying to hold back the angry tears that stung in your eyes.

You really missed the time when you could do more things, when you could run, jump, cook, play with your nieces and nephew, when simply moving from one chair to another was not an almost impossible herculean task for you. A time that seemed so far away now.

It started just three years after your wedding. You and Bruno were at your best, just enjoying each other's company, being goofy and happy, you had even made plans to make your family bigger (even if he turned red as soon as you mentioned it), it was all so perfect. Until the first blackout.

It had happened out of nowhere, one moment you were buying books with Pepa and the next everything had suddenly gone dark. By the time you woke up, you were already at home, in your bed, with the whole family looking at you with concern while Julieta tried to bring down your fever. Your sister-in-law didn't know what caused it, and despite what she might say, the soft smiles she gave you and how much she cared for you, you knew that a part of her had never stopped feeling guilty, because no matter how much magical food she gave you, you never healed.

Things had only gotten worse for you since that day, blackouts occurring more and more frequently, your joints and muscles getting weaker, condemning you to a life of constant pain. At first, you didn't want to say anything, you didn't want to worry Bruno or give Julieta more work, but when Pepa had to carry you back in her arms because your legs couldn't bear your weight anymore, you had to admit that something was wrong with you.

Your husband hardly ever left your side since then, saying that he didn't help the town much anyway. Alma accepted it, too worried that something could happen to the person she saw as another child, Julieta scolded you for not going to her every time something hurt and Pepa had made it her mission not to lose sight of you in the strange times when her brother was not with you.

"You can't leave me alone with those two, Y/N" she had told you "I'd go crazy"

"You already are" you teased softly

She smiled at you, but you could see in her eyes the same fear that invaded them all. They never told you anything, but you knew that Bruno had tried to look into your future to find out how he could help you or what would happen to you, when would you get better? But he never shared that vision, and deep inside you knew the answer: you never would.

It was hard at first, but you were strong for him, because you knew that the only person more terrified than you was your husband. He was afraid of losing you, of not being able to do anything for you, and even though you felt the same fear of leaving him, you decided that you couldn't let that paralyze you, that regardless of whether you had much or little time left, you were going to enjoy it with your family.

Your nieces and nephew were quick to get used to your situation. Isabela tried to act as if she could take care of you by herself, she would spend afternoons with you after school and she would fill your hair with beautiful flowers to cheer you up when you felt bad. Often she and Camilo competed over who could make you smile the most.

Luisa was extremely careful with you. She had just gotten her gift just two years before and she was terrified of hurting you with her strength, so she was content to just talk to you from the door. Mirabel, your precious butterfly, was the one who kept you the most company.

The girl was a miracle, you had told Julieta, who lit up the whole room with her mere presence. It didn't matter if Pepa or Bruno were keeping you company, Mirabel was always, always by your side, telling you how her day had gone, what things she had found, showing you her drawings and simply making you feel warmer every time she smiled at you.

However, everyone knew that it was Dolores who took care of you the most. The girl was silent, but her gift had turned out to be the most useful in helping you. She was always aware of you, your heart rate, your breathing, everything. If you started to get agitated, the girl immediately warned any adult who was nearby, she was like your little personal sentinel, always watching over you even if she wasn't around.

So you weren't surprised when Bruno rushed into the kitchen, almost tripping over his own feet. You smiled lovingly at him when he dropped in front of you with concern etched on his face. You were pleasantly surprised how after so many years, he was still incredibly handsome in your eyes and how he could look at you with such love and adoration, as if he hadn't spent the last few years practically having to shadow you.

"What happened?" he asked worried

"Nothing" you smiled "I just got a little dizzy, but I'm fine, Casita helped me"

He smiled back gently, stroking the back of your hand with his thumb, his touch as light as a feather. That was another thing he knew you hated: that nowadays your conversations were just to say who had helped you. There were no longer funny stories, innocent gossip or funny anecdotes, your life was slowly ending between the same walls.

"Amor..." you whispered

"Yes?"

"...please"

Your husband's expression changed to one of intense pain. It wasn't the first time you had this conversation, that you begged him to tell you what he had seen in that vision. You weren't stupid, you knew there was no cure, otherwise Julieta's food would have already worked, you didn't want to know how it would happen, if it would be painful or if you would go off quietly between dreams. All you wanted to know was how much time you had.

"Y/N -" he started

"I need to know, Bruno" you interrupted him "I don't even know if I'll make it to next Christmas"

It was a depressing thought, because it was September, and if it weren't for the intense pain you felt all the time and that had gotten worse in recent weeks, you wouldn't be making such a suggestion knowing that Dolores was listening to you. But you felt that now was not the time to be careful.

"Mi vida-"

"Please" you begged "...just tell me, how much time do I have?"

Bruno looked at you with an intense mix of fear, pain, and regret, but with a flash of love, love so deep you could almost feel it in your very bones. He sighed and took your hands gently. His grip was shaky and you knew, even before the words left his mouth, that his response was causing him great pain.

"Not enough"

#reader insert #x reader #bruno madrigal preferences #bruno madrigal imagine #bruno x reader #bruno madrigal x reader #bruno magridal #encanto preferences #encanto imagine #encanto x reader #encanto

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sokkastyles · 3 months

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since you have spoken out of turn ONCE AGAIN I, “the stupid Stan” must educate you, the actually stupid Stan

This is one of the more depressing lines in ATLA, because Azula tried to peacefully coexist with Zuko earlier, because she tried to give everything he ever wanted and acted on the premise that it was possible for both siblings to be happy, successful, and equal.

But as a result Zuko’s actions she’s come to accept the toxic paradigm of sibling competition created by Ozai and accepted by Zuko where the rise of one sibling inevitably means the fall of another, where it is impossible for her to coexist with her brother unless(at the very least) one of them has been violently forced into submission by the other(if it is possible to coexist at all).

You know, Katara runs out into the arena at the Agni Kai just when Zuko is beginning to taunt Azula about lightning. I have zero idea of what was going through her mind.

You know, ever time I think about the final Agni Kai, I’m reminded why I’m terrified that Zuko having Azula under his control post-canon would lead to him abusing her. I like to think and hope that he’s better than that, but it would absolutely be keeping with the dynamics between the siblings. Azula shouldn’t have power over Zuko, and Zuko shouldn’t have power over Azula; otherwise things will end poorly

#zuzu stans are retarded

I "spoke out of turn"? You came into my inbox, numbnuts.

Also, poor choice of words unless you're trying to mimic Ozai, which does seem the case considering everything else you've said.

At least you're not making any pretense that this is about protecting disabled people, since you feel very comfortable using an ableist slur, or about feminism, given the other asks you sent me calling me a "stupid bitch." I shouldn't bother with your nonsense but this one is actually really dangerous for the myths about abuse it puts out.

I like to think and hope that he's better than that

Don't lie. You are VERY willing to demonize Zuko and twist the narrative to make it look like he's the abuser. You just aren't very good at it.

Azula DID NOT try to "peacefully coexist" with Zuko, and that claim in and of itself is abuse apologism. Because there is no peaceful coexistence while Zuko is living with Ozai, and Azula not only brought him back there, she would have brought him back there as a prisoner if he hadn't sided with her.

She's not doing him a favor by bringing him back as an ally because she is the reason he was a prisoner in the first place. She's not doing him a favor by telling him to stay away from Iroh because she is also the reason that Iroh is a prisoner. But abusers are actually very invested in creating problems just to convince you that they can provide the only solution. It is literally an abuse tactic. That is what Azula does when she tries to "peacefully coexist" with Zuko. None of this is for Zuko's benefit, but it benefits Azula for Zuko to think it is.

It also benefits Ozai, since Ozai wants Azula to be his golden child and Zuko to take the blame for everything Ozai doesn't approve of. Ozai did not encourage them to fight each other, and he certainly didn't encourage them to compete. It makes no sense that he would, because he does not want Zuko, his scapegoat, to be able to or even think he could compete with his golden child. He doesn't want them to fight each other. He wants Azula to fight Zuko. And Azula wants that, too.

You say that Azula should not have power over Zuko but fail to acknowledge that Azula did have power over Zuko, which is why when she brings him back to his abuser with a heavy dose of "prove you're not a traitor" and the knowledge that if he didn't, he'd be thrown in prison, plus being separated from the one adult who actually cares about his well-being, it isn't a peaceful coexistence. Zuko is not peacefully coexisting, he shows telltale traits of being abused and gaslit, and describes how he feels like he's not himself, feels like he's losing his mind, is angry all the time but can't articulate why. It's because he's being abused.

Azula also has power over Zuko by virtue of being Ozai's golden child who Ozai allowed and encouraged to treat her brother badly. That's another big reason why there is no peaceful coexistence under Ozai's roof. Not because of some general idea that they're in competition or are mutually toxic to each other. That's actually a myth that abusers use to try and control their victims and obfuscate their own culpability.

Oh, there's also the fact that Azula tried to kill Zuko numerous times.

Azula should not be allowed to have power in any capacity and she's shown that she's very capable of manipulating Zuko and others even from the diminished position she is in in the comics, and that is because he wants to help her and makes the mistake of trusting her. Interpreting this as him somehow abusing his power over her is a very deliberate attempt to make the victim seem like the perpetrator.

Also lol at the victim blaming of Katara that is casually thrown in there. Really doesn't help your argument!

#azula #zuko #ozai #abuse cw #azula stans are stupid

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leclercarchive · 5 months

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Charles Leclerc, the Ferrari driver tells his story: «I feel good only with the helmet on my head»

At 26, the young Monegasque has already entered the legend of Formula 1. Thanks to his cold blood and the audacity of a driving style that does not contemplate fear, Charles Leclerc has become "The predestined" for his fans. Since he was a child he loved red cars and with Ferrari he fulfilled his dream…

Almost 130 Grands Prix in Formula 1, 28 podiums, 22 pole positions and five victories: at 26, Charles Leclerc is already making history. His favorite driver is Ayrton Senna but «there are many I admire: Prost, Lauda, James Hunt, Michael Schumacher and Lewis Hamilton. However, Ayrton Senna (the Brazilian champion who died in a tragic accident at Imola in 1994, ed.), is my all-time idol. From what I was able to see in the documentaries that tell his story and by speaking with those who knew him in life, I discovered that he was a special person to say the least, not only behind the wheel - he was perhaps the best driver in history - but also as a human being." Leclerc's childhood is marked by a deep bond with his father Hervé (he bears his name on his helmet) who was also a pilot - «dad was my number 1 fan» – and by his untimely death in 2017. «I was four years old, I told my father that I wasn't feeling very well and didn't want to go to school. Of course I was pretending like all kids do. However, I don't know why, he indulged me and took me to the go-kart track of his best friend, Philippe Bianchi. Seeing other children running on the track, I wanted to try it too. For my first car I chose the color red. And I think I fell in love with this sport after just three laps." On that go-kart track Leclerc lives his dream of one day becoming a Formula 1 driver and there he meets his lifelong friend, Jules Bianchi, Philippe's son. In karting, Charles Leclerc collected one victory after another, also because "I didn't know the concept of braking". At 17 years old in 2014, he entered the “Formula Renault 2.0” with the Fortec Motorsports team. He took seven podiums and collected two victories, earning second place in the championship. In 2015 he moved to Formula 3 and, despite an accident on the Zandvoort circuit (Holland), which compromised the final position in the standings, and the death of his friend Jules Bianchi in July, after the accident at Suzuka on 5 October 2014, Leclerc he doesn't lose the desire to compete. «Formula 1 killed people I loved, but I can't help it», he declared some time later.

What was your first ever Grand Prix? «Macau in 2015. But I like to remember the first time I saw one. I was still a child, I had a friend whose apartment had a balcony overlooking the Monte Carlo circuit. Obviously I was already rooting for the red cars, even though I didn't yet know that they were Ferrari. It was simply my favorite color." In the 2016 GP3 season he won the title with the "ART Grand Prix" team, even if, during the last championship race in Abu Dhabi, he chose to retire. Does a pilot ever feel afraid? «I am a human being, even if I run at 300 kilometers per hour. Beautiful moments alternate with very difficult ones, I'm not a superhero. It was in 2017, when I thought I wouldn't be able to become a Formula 1 driver, that I felt a real feeling of fear." But it is precisely in 2017 that the turning point arrives. A year earlier Leclerc had taken part in the Ferrari Driver Academy. With the first free practice session of the British Grand Prix in 2016, he began his experience as a test driver for Haas and then for Ferrari. Over the course of the following year he became increasingly noticed, thanks to a series of victories - among them that of the FIA Formula 2 championship - and multiple tests of skill at the wheel of his car. In the 2017 championship he participated in four free practice sessions with Sauber, the first of which in the pouring rain on the Sepang circuit (Malaysia), and it was with the Swiss team that he became a Formula 1 driver. On board the Sauber C37, despite some difficulties, Leclerc demonstrates consistency and ends the 2018 season in 13th place in the drivers' standings with 39 points, voted "rookie" of the year. But what happens before a Formula 1 race? «Before running, a lot of tension builds up. I have been doing breathing exercises since I was a boy. They help me stay calm, so I can achieve a level of concentration that maximizes my potential. Preparation is 90% of the total work in a race." Before getting into the car there is also space for a ritual moment. «I only feel good when I wear the helmet and everyone comes out of the pit lane», he says, «the cockpit is like a nest, I don't feel any sensations, zero tension. There I relax while waiting for the race."

In September 2018, Scuderia Ferrari announced that the Monegasque driver would replace Kimi Räikkönen, alongside Sebastian Vettel. «I was on a boat in Monaco. I had put the phone on silent mode, I find the call from Maurizio Arrivabene (head of the Ferrari team ed.). I told the friend I was with to turn off the engines, that the head of Ferrari had called me and I wasn't hearing well. I understand that he wouldn't have taken me to Ferrari. It seemed a little strange that he called me to tell me, I was disappointed. Fifteen seconds later he called me back and told me he was joking. I attacked and dived into the sea, it all seemed so surreal. Me in Ferrari…". Even though his first time in Maranello dates back to a few years earlier as he reveals in the book “Le prodige” written by Rémi Boudoul: «I was 11 years old, but I didn't enter. I sat in the parking lot and imagined a structure similar to the one seen in “The Chocolate Factory”. With the Oompa Loompas running around." In 2018 his first race of the season in Australia ended with a fifth place, but the real affirmation came with the Bahrain Grand Prix, where he won his first pole position and finished the race in third place. The season continues with ups and downs. After a first victory in Belgium came the triumph on the Monza Circuit, in front of the delirious Scuderia Ferrari home crowd. Leclerc also arrived in pole position in Singapore and Russia, and ended the season in fourth place with 264 points, consolidating his reputation among the most promising talents in Formula 1. 2020 began with a second place in Austria. However, the Ferrari SF1000 demonstrates some limitations in subsequent races. Leclerc retires in Styria and ends up outside the points in Hungary. A bad accident in Monza, from which he emerged unscathed, represents a critical moment in that unspectacular year, which ended in eighth place in the drivers' standings.

The following year, the new Ferrari SF21 proved to be more competitive, allowing Leclerc - now at the Prancing Horse with Carlos Sainz Jr. - to achieve good results, including fourth places in Imola and Spain. In Monaco, he takes pole position but retires due to damage to the car before the race. His only podium came in Great Britain, finishing the season in seventh place in the drivers' standings. 2022 is more than positive. He wins the Bahrain Grand Prix, followed by a second place in Saudi Arabia and victories in Australia and Austria. He finishes in second place among the drivers, behind Max Verstappen. In 2023, with his SF23 single-seater, he achieved the second podium of the season in Austria, while in Great Britain he finished ninth. In Belgium, after some changes to the car, he gets pole and finishes third. In the Italian Grand Prix, in Monza, he started on pole and finished fourth. Beyond the races, twenty-six-year-old Charles Leclerc, just appointed ambassador of the Monegasque jewelery brand APM Monaco, tries to spend as much time as possible with his friends. «Ricardo, Alex, Thomas, Guillaume, Nico, Hugo, Joris. I'm happy with them, we go to the beach, to the restaurant, we play five-a-side football, we're all sporty and we train together. However, we have different lives, while they study, I live my passion. But I love racing, I love Ferrari." Ferrari which is not only synonymous with engines but also with fashion and Leclerc is a proud ambassador of the brand led by Rocco Iannone. «I often wear items from the Ferrari line, they are aerodynamic and the materials range from the more technical ones - which I am used to wearing every day in my work - to the more refined ones. I like that couture feel and above all the color that dominates in the Ferrari collections, a color that I don't think I need to specify...>>

#charles leclerc #article #l'officiel italy 2023

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overtaken-stream · 4 months

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Hello friend! I was wondering if you could write a headcanon with Mitsui practicing with his s/o? If not that’s totally ok and I hope you have a good one 💝

Mitsui Hisashi practicing with his S/O

I have no understanding of Basketball aside from what was shown in the Manga, plan don't come at me if this doesn't make sense :')

Warnings: gn!reader.

Mitsui is the type of boyfriend who starts randomly shadowboxing you, except with Basketball moves—dribbling with nothing in his hands, uselessly jumping, and avoiding you before shooting in an invisible basket, and he keeps track of the points too. This is his strategy to get you as a partner for 1v1. It's annoying when you don't expect it, but when you do expect it and start to join him, it's usually by "stopping" the invisible ball. It's a little silly, but it works.

If you also play basketball and have enough energy to spare, this is where the practice starts.

If you're feeling under the weather, or are irritated, Hisashi knows when to quit his shadow-basket-moves as he likes to call it, even if he's a little hurt on the inside, he gets over it in a second, it's understandable to decline his invite to play when you aren't up to it.

Before the action begins, occasionally you compete for a snack, whoever scores the lowest has to buy it. It takes place in his neighborhood outdoor basketball court.

However, If you're new to basketball Hisashi won't ask for practice, especially if he is getting ready for a big match, it will just be unbalanced and won't do much for him. Mean, but practicing by himself will be more effective, he thinks.

Experienced s/o brings a challenge he is happy to accept, it will be helpful for him to gain enthusiasm and stamina, particularly after his conflict. Not only that but his partner can also try to execute new moves against him. If they succeed and score a point, he is proud and happy for them, if they fail? He encourages them to get better.

``Sorry...``

It was frustrating for him to lose in practice again and again, after the hiatus, yet when you silently attempted to not go all out on him, he saw right through you, and it irritated him more. Hisashi told you to not go easy on him, he has to get better somehow and it should begin with losses, he has to spot the misstep and correct it himself.

``It's all good.`` A light sheen of sweat covers his face, now resting on the court with crossed legs and the ball in the center. His elbows are on the dirty ground, holding up his torso. Desperate gulps of air enter his lungs.

Already tired? Damn. That's what he gets for not touching anything else but people with his fists for that long.

A cold object taps his shoulder, forcing him to open his eyes and lift his head from his shoulder.

``Water?`` He meets your (E/C) eyes and finds the orange hue of sky behind your gentle smile, he notes that you've barely broken a sweat. Damn him again!

Taking the cold object from your hands, he straightens up, taking a big sip of water.

A giggle from you interrupts him. Are you laughing at him?

``What?`` He stretches out the syllables.

``Heh, You drink like a child Hisashi...!`` another burst of laughter comes out of your pretty lips.

He knows that the tips of his ears are becoming a bit red.

I drink like a kid?

``What does that mean!?`` His embarrassment only brightens your teasing laughter, a music he'll never get tired of.

Drinking with both hands on the bottle, inhaling water, and forgetting to breathe while gurgling, a loud sound emits whenever he finally takes a breather.

His eyes gradually blink at you before a red hue attacks his face, and his hands slowly reach out to give you the bottle, while he rethinks his entire life and concludes that he has never grown out of the habit.

Your hands around his shoulders only bring heat to his complexion, all while talking about how cute he is, not realizing his actions until too late, your kisses land on his cheek and he doesn't dare look your way. He doesn't acknowledge the smoke coming out of his ears either.

#slam dunk manga #slam dunk x reader #slam dunk #slam dunk hisashi mitsui #mitsui hisashi #slam dunk mitsui #mitsui hisashi x reader #.my headcanon.#.my writing.#anime x reader

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irelandking · 10 months

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steve rogers fic recs

steve rogers x reader

❤️ = fluff 😔 = angst 🔥 = smut

modern cap steve x regular reader

series:

mr. steve - @pies-writes-and-more

part 2 Soulmate AU In a universe where your soulmate’s name is written on your wrist after you meet them, receiving a wedding invitation from her friend is just another reminder that (Y/N) has yet to find her soulmate. But maybe this wedding will be a little bit more exciting, with the help of a tiny child without a filter. ❤️

one shots:

the waitress - @pies-writes-and-more

Done for a writing challenge // song prompt: “If things get worse, will you still be here?” 405 by This Wild Life. Steve Rogers has finally worked up the guts to ask out the super cute waitress at the diner he frequents… except it’s hard to ask out of a girl when you’re a) already super nervous, b) unsure if it’s rude to ask her out, and c) when you have Dumb and Dumber insisting they tag along. ❤️

vigilante - @invisibleanonymousmonsters

Steve reacts to his girlfriend getting violently mugged. ❤️😔

under pressure - @invisibleanonymousmonsters

Steve still doesn’t know how to talk to women…let alone how to get a first date with one ❤️

boardroom fantasies - @pies-writes-and-more

prompt: “You wanna have sex….here? Now?” Steve can’t help how tight his pants get when (Y/N) is working nearby. While everyone else goes out for drinks, he pulls her aside to show her that the Accounting Guy who keeps asking her out isn’t who she should be with. 🔥

morning wood - @angrythingstarlight

Your new neighbor Steve gives you more than one surprise in the morning. 🔥

perfect - @tempestuous-lush

reader breaks up with steve over insecurities regarding lack of experience. he insists she is perfect, and proves to her just how perfect she is. 🔥

blind date - @invisibleanonymousmonsters

It had to be fate when Steve runs into his work crush on a stroll through his old stomping grounds. ❤️

guard dog - @invisibleanonymousmonsters

Sometimes Steve has to protect his girl from the least expected attacks. ❤️

agent/avenger reader

series:

start again - @wkemeup

part 2 A chemical spill, uncontrollable desires rushed to the surface, an unbridled need, and the consequences in the aftermath ❤️😔🔥

embarrassment - @a-confused-turtle

part 2 and part 3 A drunken game of truth or dare reveals what Y/N didn’t want anyone to know. She’d been perfectly and contentedly miserable before her slip up, but the confrontation over her little secret, which she avoids at all costs, quickly catches up ❤️

one shots:

blue - @pies-writes-and-more

Steve in blue is too much to handle whilst sober, (Y/N) decides. So while attending Tony Stark’s birthday party, (Y/N) doesn’t stop to drink her anxiety away making for entertaining company for Steve ❤️

hickeys - @a-confused-turtle

Y/N wakes up in her boyfriend’s arms and the day begins as it always does, sneaking out of his room, until Tony notices lovebites on shy, quiet Y/N’s neck. ❤️

wallets, keys and bobby-pins - @marvelouscaptainrogers

Soulmate AU where anything you lose suddenly appears in your soulmates possession, and anything they lose will appear in yours. It usually works swimmingly for everyone else, but what happens when your soulmate is technically around 75 years older than you? ❤️

insubordination - @marvelouscaptainrogers

Y/N likes to be a little asshole and not follow orders, and Steve decides she needs to learn her lesson 🔥

jealous (strong) steve - @pies-writes-and-more

Steve Rogers, the man behind the shield, knows that his strength only came from an injection. He isn’t a Norse god, how could he compete against Thor who seems to have all of (Y/N)’s affections? Steve Rogers is a jealous man. A strong jealous man who just keeps breaking things.❤️

whisper - @redgillan

Natasha and Sam have a plan to make Steve confess his feelings. ❤️

major crush - @redgillan

Laser Tag brings out Steve Rogers’ competitive side and Reader loves it. 🔥

it's your captain's birthday - @witchywithwhiskey

you're avoiding steve rogers' birthday beach party by relaxing in the ocean, but when he finds you alone in the waves, your captain is sure to let you know how much he appreciates that you wore a bikini in his colors to his party—and things escalate from there. 🔥

the best birthday gift - @witchywithwhiskey

you attend a party at avengers tower celebrating the fourth of july and steve rogers' birthday and make a fool of yourself when introduced to captain america, the man you've crushed on for most of your life. but when you run into him while avoiding the fireworks show, he's more than happy to spend his birthday distracting you from the party.🔥

steve - @assembletheimagines

Steve’s never had a blowjob and could you really consider yourself a friend if you didn’t suck his dick? 🔥

you'll always be the sexiest man alive to me, captain - @witchywithwhiskey

steve rogers is named people's sexiest man alive and his fellow avengers—along with their SHIELD support team—won't let him live it down, but when you make a smartass joke in front of your new colleagues, you catch the eye of captain america himself. turns out he *really* likes it when you call him captain. 🔥

college!steve

one shots:

kissing booth - @viollettes

After Nat volunteers your services at the kissing booth, you find yourself sitting across from you is none other than your best friend. ❤️

the end of the war - @redgillan

Everyone knows you and Steve can’t stand each other, but after he runs into you after one of his fights, he starts to see you in a different light.❤️😔

she calls me daddy - @hertzwritings

Frat-Boy!Steve Rogers x female reader 🔥

oopsy daisy - @whateveriwant

In order to keep the animal shelter from closing, your sorority holds a car wash as a fundraiser. Besides cleaning cars all day, you have another goal in mind involving a certain football-playing frat member. 🔥

modern au

series:

slow like honey - @heli0s-writes

The gossip that buzzes around in the teacher’s lounge is that sweet, sensitive, divorcé Steve Rogers is hot-for-teacher. His daughter’s first-grade teacher, to be exact. ❤️😔🔥

at your service - @writing-for-marvel

part 2 As your bodyguard it’s Steve’s job to look out for you, when you find him in a compromising position, it becomes your turn to look after him. 🔥

one shots:

a french kiss - @pies-writes-and-more

Y/N came to Paris with a plan: take a photo with a cute man next to the Eiffel Tower, just like how her and cheating ex-boyfriend had always planned on doing, and make that son of a bitch jealous. Thankfully, there’s a super cute blond guy who just so happens to be nearby. ❤️

take a hint - @pies-writes-and-more

(Y/N) literally just wants to go out and have a good time with her girls. So why do guys seem to never take ‘no’ for an answer? To try to prevent more annoying encounters with men who can’t take a hint, (Y/N) slips on two rings onto her left hand and assumes the married life. It’s all well and good… until someone sees the rings as a challenge. Enter from stage right, our hero. ❤️

ask - @angelkurenai

Imagine Steve wanting to introduce you, his fiance, to his friends for a long time but hesitating because he hasn’t told them something about your past and how you met. You were once his student. ❤️

nature's beauty - @biteofcherry

Your teasing comment about staying home barefoot and pregnant makes something in Steve snap. He’s now eager to turn it into reality. 🔥

lilacs & ink - @witchywithwhiskey

you go in to get your first tattoo and the very attractive tattoo artist steve rogers takes good care of you.❤️

mob!steve

series:

ask - @invisibleanonymousmonsters

part 2 two prompts combined ❤️ 1. here’s people chasing us and I pulled you into the alley with me and wow you’re close 37. We’re dating and I didn’t know you were a mobster

biker!steve

one shots:

where he belongs/don't f*ck with the queen - @angrythingstarlight

It’s not often someone challenges your place as Steve’s queen but they only make that mistake once. And Steve knows better than to let anyone think they can take your place. 🔥

#steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers smut #steve rogers au #steve rogers #steve rogers x you

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misty-moth · 1 month

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*Gil route spoilers toward the end*

You know the isekai stories where the character reads a book at some point, doesn’t pay very close attention to it, but then is thrown into that book (and often are “born” into one of the book’s characters, so they start as a baby)?

Isekai AU where that happened to Chev.

He read a book outside of his usual genres on a whim, and he was launched into it soon after. He was an adult when it happened, and a rather competent one at that. Now he had been born into a position of royalty and was fairly convinced he could rule the entire continent with his knowledge. He just needed to win the story’s war against Obsidian, where the story’s timeline had ended.

So he knows *almost* everything that happens, especially key points that would otherwise be impossible to guess. He knows the tragic end of his mother, so he didn’t try to stop it. He knew about Bloodstained Rose Day, so he accepted his decision as necessary. The closer he stuck to the original plot, the longer he’d know what was going to happen.

The problem with the book for Chev was that he thought it was stupid. Because it was a romance novel. He hadn’t really considered looking for it until he came across a ~random~ romance novel in his stack of books, and soon he’s been reading every romance he can get his hands on, on the off chance he finds the book again. He’s hoping there’s a “rare book” somewhere that would become a prophetic treasure for him…

He knows about Emma the future Belle, but he’s convinced that Belle is a pointless position because he plans on firmly changing the plot once she comes into play. By the end of the book, he will no longer need to bother with romance— he’ll have secured an entire continent instead. Surely Emma can pick one of his brothers, so it’s fiiine…

So he’s pretty close to the original timeline, but he’s still a little thrown off when a woman in town slaps a drunkard in front of him. He wasn’t expecting to meet Belle on a random day and in such a weird way (did the original Chev point a sword at Emma’s throat? New Chev can’t seem to remember that part happening…)

Then he had to be on his game as far as pushing her away, toward any of his brothers (he was positive that whoever she chose, they would love and cherish her). He’s spent all of his new life preparing, so it should be easy enough to push one last person away. No time for kindness or love if he wants to rule this fictional world.

And, well, we’ve seen how well that went for him in his route 😅

And his route could end with loving Emma, how it was originally written, even having known everything beforehand. Dude’s a certified genius now, but he couldn’t destroy fate…

Sure would be a shame if another “genius” was isekai’d into an enemy prince’s body that would also want to take over the continent and meet Belle (essentially the perfect, ideal woman with the purest heart). A prince who ended up in a body/family/life that tore his own pure heart to shreds.

He’d read the romance novel because he liked happy stories, and he’d liked how lovely and strong Emma was. So ending up in the last possible person to meet her was a huge blow for him.

Gil couldn’t find the novel in the fictional world, either, though he didn’t try quite as hard as Chev (who he’d met as a child, not realizing that the gallant prince in the story was now the grumpy kid reading in a corner).

Gil gave up trying to find it after realizing survival had to be his ultimate priority. Eventually in his adult years he was able to think about her again. He’d looked back on the stories the bookseller told him, which were curiously similar to the Belle he had read about. Maybe if he couldn’t find the romance novel… he could write it?

And finding out that Emma had finally become Belle at the same time he’d learned he’d had nothing left to lose? Time to visit Rhodolite.

Two isekai’d princes, one the pre-destined lover of Belle, the other an enemy who was born into the life of a doomed side character who had to make himself a main character to survive.

Neither knows the other came from their original universe, so they are both pretty perplexed at how competent the other is. They’ve been side-eyeing the other their whole lives: Gil eventually realizes he’s talking to Chevalier, the ML, but that he’s a lot grumpier than he remembers. Chev doesn’t understand where this prominent enemy character came from or why he wasn’t mentioned in the books 🤔

#this was nooot meant to be this long of a post #i just woke up like an hour ago thinkin bout chev if you can believe it #chevalier michel #gilbert von obsidian #ikepri #ikemen prince #long post

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gabrielsbubblegumbitch · 6 days

Text

Charlie's corruption arc ✨😈

aka Broken Crown AU inspired by this post because I’ve been thinking about it intensively. So, I believe Charlie's villain arc would start with a great feeling of relief. Imagine: it's been a week since the final battle; it's been a week when Charlie hasn't been able to sleep at night. Others think she's still grieving, but the truth is different. Every night, Charlie cannot fall asleep because she's trying to cope with the relief she felt the second Adam died. She was the one who at first stopped Lucifer from finishing him, just because killing Adam didn't seem right. But when Niffty actually did it, despite everything, it felt right. It felt good.

After weeks (months?) of looking for a way to stop Adam from committing genocide against her people, after being bullied and humiliated by him, after witnessing how an unjust system enabled his despicable actions while ruthlessly punishing others for far lesser crimes, she finally, for the first time, felt like she had any agency. Just like that, her loved ones were finally safe. They could all breathe again, and all it took was a small act of violence against the person who fully deserved it. This realization changes her. While she doesn't intend to do such things in the future, she can no longer deny that exercising brutal power can be the best solution when dealing with certain kinds of people. This is the very first thing she hides from Vaggie. Not because she's scared of her judgment but because these ideas are so against her own moral values it is simply scary to put them into words.

Maybe I would be capable of killing someone in cold blood. Maybe I'll have to do it one day.

But Adam's dead, so they are safe, right? And she won't ever have to make a choice like that again. That's some reassurance.

And then, Niffty is killed by Lute. Just like that��Lute teleports to Hell by night and slaughters her in revenge because why wouldn't she? Who would have stopped her?

It obviously hits everyone hard—they just lost another friend. But Alastor? Alastor loses his fucking mind. He goes completely feral, yelling at Charlie and blaming her for everything.

What kind of incompetent fool shows their enemy mercy and lets them live long enough to get vengeance? I cannot believe I thought you could be a competent leader. You are just a fucking child. You are all a bunch of idiots.

Charlie goes through a complete meltdown because she knows he's right. If she had the guts to finish Lute or at least asked Vaggie or Lucifer to do so, Niffty would be alive. She's crying, choking on tears; she feels like a hopeless failure, but Alastor does not give her a break. He seems so infuriated she thinks he would kill her. Fortunately, Lucifer and Vaggie intervene. Lucifer puts Alastor back in his place by essentially beating the shit out of him. Vaggie takes Charlie out to calm her down. She insists that if it's anyone's fault, it's hers because she was the one who spared Lute, but Charlie knows that it's a lie. Vaggie would have killed Lute if not for Charlie's convictions. She fails, and she fails all over again, and it seems like she can't escape the evil. It's her responsibility to face it on equal terms. Otherwise, she won't be able to protect her loved ones.

After this incident, both Lucifer and Vaggie insist on kicking Alastor out of the hotel. He's too dangerous, too unpredictable. We can't allow him to treat you like this. We don't even need him anymore; there's nothing an Overlord can do that the King of Hell can't.

But that's not the truth. There's something Alastor can do that Lucifer can't: play the game. And now, grieving another of her friends, Charlie realizes she needs a teacher if she wants to stop pieces.

I have like 0 time to write the proper fic but I had to get these out of my system because holy shit I love coming up with elaborate plots I'm not able to execute. Maybe talking about it will somehow scratch the itch.

Also tagging @purrpleowl because she expresses her interest in this idea.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel au #charlie morningstar #vaggie #alastor #lute hazbin hotel #lute #lucifer #lucifer hazbin hotel #broken crown au #niffty

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rushtoprove · 2 years

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the things we do for love

summary: Aemma Velaryon is the daughter of the Princess Rhaenyra and betrothed to Aemond Targaryen. Their young love blinds them to the bitterness between their families, but slowly their fantasy begins to unravel with time. How did the purest of love turn into such bitter hatred?

2. an unfair exchange 'He hated his brother sorely. Aegon seemed to have everything he desired, except for Aemma. For that, Aemond found endless relief. The thought of anyone else being with his future wife was torture, and the idea of his brother was a million times worse. '

word count: 3869

masterlist

Watching her mother wail and squirm was nothing short of traumatising for Aemma.

“Push Princess!” The midwife encouraged.

“I am pushing you cunt.” Princess Rhaenyra’s foul language made her daughter flinch. Aemma was drained of all colour and was sweating like she was the one in labour.

“Mother. I wish to leave.” Her quiet beg was met with another scream from her lady mother. Dipping the cloth she held in the bucket of water beside them, Aemma dabbed it at her mother’s forehead.

“The queen demands you here Princess Aemma.” A scream rips through Rhaenyra and she pushes for dear life before the midwife continues the rest of her sentence. “She says you need to learn what is expected of you.”

Aemma knew she was named after her grandmother, who was lost during the birth of her stillborn child. She knew the devastating impact it had on her mother and her grandfather and the idea that the same fate may befall her dearest mother was gut wrenching. The fear of losing her mother, as well as the confronting nature of childbirth was too much for Aemma to bear as she tilted her head to the ceiling and closed her eyes. She prayed for her mother and her unborn sibling, as well as cursing her future mother-in law for forcing her to endure this situation.

Perhaps it was revenge for two weeks ago when Aemma embarrassed Queen Alicent’s oldest son. It was not Aemma’s fault. It was against the rules for girls to compete in tournaments so when one was announced to celebrating the expected birth of her newest sibling, Aemma needed to find a way to compete. Her secret training lessons with her father Laenor Velaryon and her sworn protector Harwin Strong had transformed the young princess into a fierce warrior. She had to show it off. Wearing a mask and armour, Aemma managed to keep her face hidden as each opponent fell beneath her blade. It was not her fault Aegon had been stupid enough to declare a duel. However, it was her fault that when he ended up beneath her blade, she placed her foot on his chest and whipped off her helmet to the shock of the crowd. There was an uproar that a woman had competed, a princess at that, and Alicent had called for Aemma to be pulled from the field. As she was being pulled away, Aemma glanced up to find Aemond. He stood proudly clapping for her.

Alicent was using this chance to show Aemma the true duty of a woman.

“Mother... I can’t watch.” The sight of the blood staining the bed horrified the young girl.

“My little flower. It will be done soon.” Rhaenyra cried as she grasped her daughter’s hand and tried not to grip too hard as the next wave of contractions coursed through her. It was two hours later when little Joffrey was birthed and two hours later that they were placing robes over the new-born's mother. Rhaenyra wobbled from the pain her body had just been through, and Aemma wobbled as she overcome the traumatic birth. Just when she thought it was over, her mother doubled over and moaned.

“It’s coming. The afterbirth!”

“Oh, lords no more.” Aemma moaned before stumbling towards the door. Bursting out she stumbled straight into the arms of Laenor. Closing her eyes and taking in a deep breath, she let his embrace calm her. He was her father. No matter what was said by the spiteful court gossips. She heard her mother shuffle slowly out of the room and let Laenor turn to his wife.

“A boy!? I’ve just heard.” Rhaenyra grunted out a yes before explaining that Alicent wished to see the child.

“I do not think this is necessary.” Aemma mumbled as she held her father’s right arm for support to stand, her mother doing the same on his left.

“Did it hurt terribly?” After witnessing what had just happened, Aemma could have laughed so hard the entire kingdom could hear. Instead, she sulked and shook her head.

“I shall never do that. Not even for Aemond.” Passing all the lords and ladies, the family finally made it to the Queen’s rooms where Alicent was having a dress tailored. It enraged Aemma that her mother was put through hell and forced up here while the Queen played dress-up. She boiled with rage so badly that she did not pay any mind to their conversations and was only pulled back to reality when her parents readied to leave. The king had appeared at some point and pulled his granddaughter into a hug.

“My little bird. You look pale. Are you well fed?” He stroked the hair from his granddaughters face and smiled. She tried hard not to stare at the way his fingers uncontrollably shook. His love was strong for Aemma, and after one too many wines he would often whisper how his late wife’s spirit was strong in Aemma’s. How her silver hair was the very image of his late wife. How her smile would light up the room just as his late wife had. Aemma had once confessed to Aegon that she worried he did not truly love her, but simply loved her name. Aegon had laughed. It was probably true.

“It is not food my king.” She whispered. “It was the torture of sitting through childbirth!”

“I’m sure you were much comfort to your mother little one.” He smothered her and Aemma couldn’t help but cry out.

“It was awful. I shall never fall with child. NEVER!” He simply laughed and stood back so that Alicent could run her fingers through Aemma’s silver locks. She had also laughed at the declaration but her laugh left Aemma still and scared.

“You will bear Aemond many a son when the time comes.” Her body shivered and Aemma squeezed her eyes shut. The two families were waiting for Aemma to bleed before the two children wed and Aemma took the moment to pray that it would never come; as much as she wished to have her dear Aemond.

“Come Aemma. Let’s introduce your brother to the others.” Laenor could see the discomfort his daughter faced and she could have cried over how grateful she was for the escape. His love for his daughter knew no bounds. He would do anything for Aemma without the slightest of questions. She was his darling daughter and nothing could change that. When the young girl ran to clutch his arm, Laenor ushered her out and placed a comforting hand on her head.

“It is over now little one. Let us forget what has happened.”

“If my brothers picked a bad egg, I shall murder them.” Sulking once more, Aemma dragged her feet as she followed. She would have much preferred being in the Dragonpit choosing an egg to sitting by her mother’s side. When finally, they reached her mother’s chambers, Aemma threw herself at Jace and Luke.

“The horror of childbirth.” She cried before falling onto the couch.

“It shall be you soon sister!” Luke giggled and jumped around. Aemma grabbed his wrist before pulling her young brother onto her and tickling the boy. He screamed in delight as his brown curls shook everywhere. She loved Jace, even though he took pleasure in following around their stupid Uncle Aegon, but her love for little Luke was almost overwhelming. The moment she had laid eyes on her little brother in his small cot, hours after his birth, she was so overcome with affection she cried from joy. The moent he wrapped his little fingers around her outstretched finger, Aemma swore an oath to protect Luke forever.

“Shut up little brother.” She fake growled. Jace, feeling slightly left out, placed his hand on his sister’s head and began to shake it. The scene did not last long before Harwin Strong, who did not once take his eyes off Joffrey, cleared his throat.

“Perhaps some quiet for the Prince and Princess.” Laenor nodded in agreement and the three children quickly fell silent.

“Soon you’ll be having Aemond’s babies.” Luke giggled and poked out his tongue. That was the end of that silence.

+++

Aemma sprinted to the Dragonpit. She had changed from her dress into her leather pants and corset and strapped her sword to her hip quickly due to her excitement. After the fiasco that was the last tournament, Rhaenyra had banned Aemma from attending the lessons for two weeks. Today was the first day she was allowed to see her dragon Terrax and her betrothed Aemond. She couldn’t decide who she was most excited to see.

“Sister! Wait up!” She paid no attention to her brother’s cries and instead sprinted harder. It felt like a million years but when Aemma finally burst through the ancient wooden doors, the worries of earlier almost perished. Almost.

“About time.” Aegon was standing proudly, his little brother stuck in a headlock. Aemond was ashamed for his love to find him like this. Aegon always took pleasure from proving his strength over the smaller boy.

“Knock it off Aegon!” Aemma was carefree as she bounced down the stairs laughing and fake raising her sword at the oldest. Aemond’s heart ached at the sight. Gods how he had missed that smile.

“My little dragon. Be careful with that. It’s much bigger than you.” Aegon snorted at the girl before moving to stand beside Jace who had entered the Dragonpit last, and out of breath.

“You would know, dearest uncle,” The snarky comment was an obvious reminiscent of Aemma forcing Aegon to his knees at the last tourney, and Aemond laughed loudly at the memory.

“Careful brother. You forget yourself.” Aegon’s warning was too low for Aemma to hear as she danced to the opening of the pit, desperate to catch a glimpse of Terrax. Aemond heard it all too clearly, however, and was silenced. The dragon keeper berated them for their careless demeanour and the children were quick to fall into line. Standing beside Aemond, Aemma sneakily squeezed his hand.

“Long time no see.” She quietly teased. Aemond wished to smile at her, but his brother’s cruelty was still on his mind and he simply stared ahead. He did not wish for her to see the fear in his eyes. Aemma spent the whole lesson trying to capture her betrothed's attention, but his eyes never looked at her. Not once.

“Zaldrizo aoho syt aeksio sagon ao bevilza, darilaros nuhys.”

“You must hold mastery over your dragon, my young Prince.” The dragon keeper translated his master’s old Valyrian tongue. Watching as Jace struggled to tame his dragon. Aegon turned to Aemma.

“We should be in advanced classes.” He winked at her and threw his arm around her shoulder. Watching his brother freeze up made the action all the more satisfactory. Aemma, feeling rejected by her closest friend as well as still battling the trauma of her mother’s childbirth, simply leant into to Aegon and allowed herself to be comforted by his warmth.

“I do not know why they don’t just let us fly while the boys practise.” She agreed. The two often bonded on how easy they found it to claim the large beats. Aemond was still without a dragon and Aemma knew better then to bring up the subject with the boy. He was envious of them both. He hated his brother sorely. Aegon seemed to have everything he desired, except for Aemma. For that, Aemond found endless relief. The thought of anyone else being with his future wife was torture, and the idea of his brother was a million times worse.

“I do not know why you are even in these lessons brother.” Aegon teased. Aemma punched his shoulder and pulled away from him. That was the end of that moment.

“You must hold mastery over your dragon, my young Prince. As Prince Aegon has with Sunfyre.” The satisfaction of the master’s comments on Aegon’s skills were as clear as day on the young prince’s face. Aemma just chuckled before shuffling closer to Aemond. She tried not to show her hurt when she felt him move away. She did not know what she had done to deserve such a cool reception after so long apart.

A lamb was bought forward for the dragon to feast on, and she quickly looked away in discomfort.

“It is nature Aemma. It will starve if it does not eat.” Aemond’s tone was cruel as he rolled his eyes and Aemma looked at him sadly.

“It does not mean it cannot be sad.” She hated hearing the cries of the animals before it’s slaughter. With a soft sigh, Aemond instantly focused on only her. Pulling her closer, he allowed Aemma to bury her head in his shoulder and block out the scene before them.

“Grow up Aemma.” Aegon snorted and ruffled her hair. The sound of Vermax breathing out the dragon fire and the screams of the dying lamb made Aemma shudder. Aemond was too focused on her to miss the look between the three other boys.

“Why are you so mean today?” Aemma mumbled. Aemond knew it was not aimed at Aegon.

“I did not sleep well.” He lied before running his hand down Aemma’s spine. He took pleasure feeling her shiver from the touch.

“Perhaps a gift shall lighten your mood.” Pulling his brother away from Aemma, Aegon walked Aemond forward with a grin. Both Aemma and Aemond peaked up in interest.

“What is it?” Aemond tried to feign disinterest but quietly reached for Aemma with anticipation. Perhaps his brother was going to apologise for his cruelty after all these years.

“Something very special.” Luke was hyped up and Aemma found his happiness adorable. Surely my littlest brother will not do anything mean to Aemond, she thought.

“You're the only one of us without a dragon.” Aemond did not need Aegon’s reminder and had to stop himself from rolling his eyes.

“Indeed.”

“And we felt badly about it, so we found one for you.” Aemma’s stomach dropped and she tried to pull Aemond back to protect him. She knew it was impossible to simply come across a wild dragon. But Aemond’s need for the creatures made him cast aside his intelligence, and instead found himself unable to think.

“A dragon? How?”

“The gods provide.” Watching the shadows, the children stepped forward to see little Luke pulling a large pig on a rope. It had large fake wings and Jace and Aegon doubled over at the sight. Their laughter echoed around the empty stadium and Aemma couldn’t help but stifle a laugh at the sight of Luke leading such a large pig. However, the moment she saw Aemond’s defeated gaze, she jumped to attack.

“You are all cruel! Aegon! Jace! You need to grow up! And Luke! I am so disappointed in you.” Her lecture was heard with only louder laughter, and Aemond glared. He did not need her pity.

“Be sure to mount her carefully. First flight's always rough.” Aegon let out a mimic of the pig before running off with Jace and Luke. Aemond and Aemma stood quietly side by side.

“I am an idiot.” His confession brought tears to his eyes but Aemond breathed deeply and stared down at the dark pit before them. She could not see him weak. It was unbecoming.

“You are kind. You do not expect people to lie. It is no fault dearest Aemond.” With the other gone, Aemond allowed Aemma to pull him into a hug and smooth down his hair. It often felt like she was the only person who truly cared to comfort him and he was always grateful.

“I do not understand why I don’t have a dragon.” Aemma knew what was about to happen. It was the same thing that always happened when Aemond was reminded that he was the only one of the children to not claim the fearsome creatures. Following his gaze into the shadows before them, she let out a sigh.

“I am tired. Let us not today.” It was a useless suggestion.

“Then do not come.” With that his feet moved forward, and her feet fell in line with his.

“You really must stop this.” She followed him.

+++

"They say you screamed for Sir Harwin to hit him harder.” Your mother’s glare had never been so frightening. Lost for words, Aemma began tapping her foot and staring out the window. She had cheered on Sir Harwin in the training yard yesterday when a fight between himself and Sir Cristion Cole broke out.

She could not stand the way Cole treated her brothers. Treated herself. Treated her mother.

“He deserved what he got. He knew what his words would suggest. After a heated duel between Aegon and Jace, Harwin stepped up to protect us. He was doing his job as my loyal protector and Sir Crispin had to go and imply it was like the love of a father.” Aemma could not understand why her mother would think it bad that the stupid knight got what he deserved. He was cruel and boring. Everything Aemma hated.

“There are already... malicious lies about Harwin Strong and our family. This is only going to propel our enemies to further push their lies.” Rhaenyra pinched her nose before standing straight. She began to glide back and forth across the room, panicked.

“Mother...” Aemma was soft with her voice as she slowly walked closer to her mother.

“Don’t.”

“I do not care. Truly. But you need not keep your secrets from me.” Of course, Aemma knew. Just like her oldest brother knew. But it did not matter and they would both defend their family to the very end.

“I needed... Aemma. My little love.” Pulling her tightly to her chest, Rhaenyra tried to place all the love she had for her daughter into this hug. Aemma should have known something bad was about to happen.

“I needed to make a move. I needed to make sure the power stays with us.” She continued her sentence and stared directly into her daughter’s eyes.

“How did you do that?” Frowning, Aemma tried to think of the possible move. Could her mother has bought the upcoming marriage to Aemond closer, to combine our two families quicker? Her heart jumped at the thought and a smile began to slowly form.

“I have asked to make arrangements for your wedding.” Aemma couldn’t help the grin.

“Oh! That is okay! I do not mind that mother.” She couldn’t help but start giggling. A blush began to form in her cheeks and for those few seconds she pictured perfectly the marriage she had dreamed of for so long. She needed to see Aemond as quickly as possible.

He must have heard her thoughts.

“AEMMA! LET ME PASS! AEMMA! SISTER RHAENYRA!” The sound of Aemond yelling outside the door made both women jump. Rhaenyra tried to grab Aemma and continue her speech but the doors to the study flung open and Aemond fell inside, red faced and out of breath.

“Prince Aemond.” Rhaenyra bowed her head slightly and pulled her daughter closer towards her. Aemma was too caught up in her day dreams to register their faces. She did not see the pity on her mother’s face nor the sorrow on Aemond’s. She just saw herself walking to the end of the aisle to meet Aemond as her husband.

“Please do not give her to him.” Aemond begged. Rhaenyra swallowed her guilt and straightened her back.

“The offer of my eldest daughter to your mother’s eldest son is to further our Targaryen bloodline and to have Aegon as King beside my daughter when I die. It will have the two first-borns in an equal position of power. My father and your mother understand the importance of this and that is why they also agreed to my offer.” Aemma’s heart had never crashed so hard. Her tears were instant and she looked to her mother in shock.

“You... What did you do?” She stared in shock at her mother and tried to stumble towards Aemond. He reached out but Rhaenyra pulled her daughter back and shook her head.

“It is a curse to be born into such an ancient family like ours. It is both your duty to do what must be done to secure the safety of the family line. I understand this is a shock. But you will come to realise it was the only option as you grow.” Aemma couldn’t help the sobs that left her mouth.

“Mother! Aegon is cruel! Aemond... Aemond is to be my husband. Please.” She begged her mother, holding onto her sleeve and weeping. She heard shuffling behind her.

“Please sister. Please I beg you. Let me wed your daughter. I will pledge myself to you. I will do anything you want. Please.” Turning to look, Aemma cried at the sight of her love kneeling before her mother. His hands were clasped and his eyes downcast. She saw the tears fall from his face.

“Please.” He repeated. Rhaenyra sighed and her heart broke for the two children. But that’s all they are. Two children who would grow out of love for one another as the years pass.

“You will learn your duty to your houses my children. Today marks the start of such education.” Sliding her hand over her daughter’s hair, she was pained to see Aemma flinch.

“Mother...”

“Sister...”

“You shall marry Aegon this coming spring.” Rhaenyra cut them both off before swiftly walking past them and exiting the study. The two heartbroken children fell into one another and clutched each other tight.

“I will not let them. He cannot have you.” Aemond shook with emotion. A mix of rage and despair overwhelmed him and he could not breathe. When his father had stood before Aemond and Aegon to tell them the changes to Aemma’s betrothed, Aemond had cried out. Aegon had simply laughed.

“We must find a way.” Aemma looked straight into Aemond’s eyes and they both stared.

“Let us escape. We can find a boat at one of the docks. Pay a fisherman to smuggle us to the free cities. We can leave tonight.” It was a desperate plea but a thought Aemond had many a times. He often dreamed of taking Aemma away from his family, his brother, and being able to be with her on their own accord.

“We could bring some gold.” Aemma sniffled. She had often had the same thought.

For two hours the crying children clutched each other and planned their daring escape. That night, with their bags pack and their faces covered by their cloaks, Aemma and Aemond met by the observatory. They would stay hidden in the shadows and no one would see them. Aemma would whisper to her dragon to meet her across the other side of the ocean. Aemond would look to his siter’s room and give a final wave as she stared out her window at the bugs below. Cutting off their past, they would escape with just each other. Nothing would get in the way.

Sir Cristian Cole found them before they made it to the dining hall.

#aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen fic #aemond imagine #aemond targryen imagine #aemond targaryen #house of the dragon imagine #hotd imagine #house of the dragon #aemond x reader

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