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little-miss-dilf-lover · 3 months

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QUEEN’S THRONE. 18+

pairing. bucky barnes x fem!reader

> the first image has no implication of readers skin tone, the picture itself has the feel of the fic!!

word count. 2041

summary. you have been feeling insecure and been nitpicking yourself apart. bucky notices and shows you how much he loves your body by asking you to sit on his face

warnings. 18+ only!! reader is feeling insecure within her body and weight, descriptions involving self doubts, little bit of body worship, cunnilingus, face sitting, bucky being a munch and cuming untouched. minors dni

based on this request

No one ever really prepares you for how difficult it is to like yourself, to find parts of your body you don't hate. To not tear yourself apart over things you deem ugly or heinous.

There's no manual you get for counteracting these doubts in your mind. You're supposed to trick yourself into thinking otherwise - to deceive the mistrust in your brain. But sometimes, the lies you tell yourself to feel better have no effect on you - the affirmations you repeat in rituals feeling like robotic words from self-help blogs.

You stand naked in front of the full-length mirror in your room, towel on the floor pooled around your ankles. Damp strings of hair collecting on your shoulders, the almost dry strands indicating the time you've stood looking at yourself.

The skin under your eyes soaked with tears, flesh sore and tender from the last near twenty minutes of picking yourself apart. Your gaze hones in on yourself in the mirror, looking at the reflection of your thighs, mindlessly staring at the chub you consider ugly.

Your eyes sadly trail up to your stomach, taking note of the wideness of your hips and patches of stretch marks that litter those areas. Seeing yourself in the reflection after a day of feeling bad about yourself was not a healthy coping mechanism, nor was it one you would encourage - but there was just something inside of you, something inside your brain telling you to nitpick your 'problem' areas.

It was like there was an evil little gremlin in your mind that made things worse for yourself. That made you give in to the doubts and insecurities - that made you believe them.

Sometimes, you had a better hold on that gremlin, quietening that voice with your own, but on others, like today, that was not the case. You had a difficult day, feeling like a sore thumb everywhere you went - feeling like you stood out in all the worst ways. But that was not the truth - the people you passed on the street were too preoccupied with their own spiral of doubt and shame to even notice your 'problem' areas.

But, right now, you had no space left for rationality - that loud, pitiful voice overshowing the logical parts of your brain.

You hear a light knock on the door, the sound snapping you out of thought.

"You've been in there a while. Everything okay?" your boyfriend, James, calls out, his tone soft.

You clear your throat and grab an oversized tee - throwing on the closest one you can find. "Yeah, out in a minute," you reply, evening your voice to avoid detection.

"Mind if I come in. Need to grab something," Bucky asks, words muffling behind the closed door.

You hesitate momentarily. "Okay."

The door opens, and Bucky steps into the room, eyes immediately landing on the back of you - head cocking to the side suspiciously. He picks up a t-shirt he pretended to need and walks around the bed to you on the other side - standing beside you as you look out the window.

"What you looking at?" he asks, subtly scoping you out.

"Just been looking at the moon," you lie, nodding to the silver crescent in the night sky.

Though he doesn't believe you, keeping his eyes on you as you try to redirect his attention. He extends his neck, reaching his head out to see more than just the side of your face - to see the giveaway he knew was there.

He twists you around more to look at him, making you show your face that you've been trying to hide. His eyes land on yours momentarily before you divert them away, turning from his gaze almost shamefully. He takes note of the sore under your eyes, how they look damp and swollen - how tired you look.

"What's the matter? What's wrong?" he asks, worry evident in his voice. "What's the matter?" he repeats quieter, features softening as he looks at you.

"Nothing," you shrug, turning away from him. "Probably just tired," you partially lie.

He parts focus from you and begins to place together the pieces you weren't willing to share. He glances around the room until he lands on the mirror, the towel on the floor confirming his theory.

Poking his neck out, trying to meet your gaze again, he calls your name - trying to refocus you.

"You have to stop doing that to yourself," he murmurs, twisting you around to him for the final time. "You're so mean to yourself, and you don't deserve it," he softly shakes his head, reinforcing his words.

"I wasn't doing that," you reply, bottom lip beginning to tremble with your lie. "I don't do— I don't do that anymore."

His head tilts to the side, not believing you. "Honey," he coos, drawing out the term of endearment as he brings you in for a hug - wrapping you up in an embrace.

"I don't," you continue, voice almost breaking. "I don't," you repeat, shaking your head softly in the crook of his neck.

"Okay," he hums, brushing comforting strokes up your back, soothing you. "I know," he murmurs.

He holds you like that, large hands engulfing the middle of your back, caressing you with delicate touch and waiting for you to pull away.

"I'm sorry," you sniffle, backing away as you wipe your nose on your hand. "I'm being stupid," you shrug with a weak smile, self-depreciation creeping in.

Bucky shakes his head firmly, a soft furrow of his brows indicating his distaste for the topic. He extends his hands to your face, placing palms over your cheeks - stilling your face and making you look at him. "Stop it," he scolds, voice warm and gentle. His hands secure on your face, eyes boring into yours. "You have to stop doing that."

You sigh, a slow, uneasy exhale leaving your lips as if to steady yourself.

"I think you're perfect," he whispers, pressing a kiss onto your cheek - absorbing the tear from your skin. "I wish you could see it too."

His hands leave the placement on your cheeks, moving down to rest on your hips over your tee. One flesh, one metal sitting on the curve. He keeps his eyes locked on you, looking for signs of discomfort, only to find none - your gaze trusting and enamoured.

Bending at the knee in front of you and at eye level with your 'problem' areas, he glides his hands up your outer thighs - palms running over them intently. He keeps his eyes locked on your upper legs, watching the soft jiggle of the chub - utterly captivated by their beautiful shape.

He hesitantly runs his hands higher and towards your hips, forearms catching on the hem of your t-shirt, rising and revealing your bare pussy underneath. He inhales harshly, the lewd sight of you mere inches away from your face.

He presses soft kisses over your plump thighs, almost worshipping you - on his knees, kissing parts of you he adores most. He glances up to meet your gaze, your eyes already locked on him.

His kisses trail higher, lining up the crease between cunt and thigh, working up the cute swell of your tummy. "You're beautiful," he murmurs,

words muffling into your hip. "And so perfect."

You rake your fingers into his hair, softly stroking his scalp - all thoughts from earlier dissipating slowly, everything feeling inconsequential with your pretty boyfriend on his knees between your legs.

"Sit on my face," he mutters, pulling away from your stomach to look up at you. "I want you on my face."

Your half-lidden eyes fling open, shock almost slapping you across the face. "What?" you question, gently tugging Bucky's head away from your tummy. "No," you shake your head. "I'll hurt you."

He faintly chuckles as he stands, leaning back onto the mattress. "You won't," he smiles, resting his head on the pillows behind, getting comfortable. "Come on," he nods you over, beckoning you to your throne.

"I don't know," you reply sheepishly, glancing over him.

"You don't have to sit— just hover."

You step closer and kneel on the bed, pausing like you're debating yourself. "I don't want to squash you."

"You won't," he shakes his head, his expression eager. "Just... come on."

With a gentle sigh and a nod, you crawl up the bed, scooching along the mattress on your knees until you're beside his head. You grip the headboard for support as you lift a leg, placing it on the other side of his head, situating yourself in a hover over his face.

"I don't want to hurt you— please tell me if I do," you worry, lifting the hem of your t-shirt to get a better look at him below.

"Promise," he says lowly, placing his hands on the swell of your thighs, slowly guiding your pussy closer.

He lays his tongue flat against the slit of your cunt, an immediate pleased hum muffling into your folds. The warm contact of his tongue makes your thighs tremble and breath hitch, everything feeling new from this heightening position.

With light pressure, he swipes through your pussy lips, tongue lapping you in a leisure rhythm as the tip of his nose bumps at your clit.

His palms graze over your thighs, reaching up to the crease where he can get a hold of you and push you down onto his face. But you notice his pawing and swat his hands off - raising yourself back into a hover and lifting further away.

Bucky doesn't let you go far before he's pushing you back down, a firm grip on your waist keeping you still. "Stay," he muffles into your cunt, caressing it with slow, sloppy kisses.

He laps at your pussy, burying his tongue further into the wet warmth of you - repeated pleasure-filled groans vibrating against you as you give into the bliss. You finally allow yourself to enjoy the moment without doubt getting in the way - all worry slowly being replaced by euphoria as you sink further onto his face.

Meeting his gaze over the top of your pussy, he gives you a wink - the act like silent praise, him voicelessly applauding you for tuning out the voice in your head.

With one hand on the headboard, you dip the other down, circling the ache in your clit a few times before moving into the short, dark brown hairs at the top of his head. Tugging on his hair as if you're holding him there.

His grip on your waist trails down, moving back to the plush of your thighs where he squeezes - fingers digging into the doughy flesh. He holds you there, muffling moans against your folds as he coats the insides of his boxers in a sheen of his cum - the taste and feel of you alone, enough to send him over the edge.

You twist your neck, looking over your shoulder to the tented cock in his sweats, his head protruding through the wet patch of where he just came. A breath gets caught in your throat at the lewd image, and it all begins to feel like too much, all your senses consumed in the feeling.

With the knot tightening in your tummy, you feel yourself grow closer to the edge - the soft jerk of your hips indicating the closeness of your climax. Within moments, you're cuming on Bucky's tongue, whining broken and spluttered noises into the air.

He continues to hold you there, making out with your cunt through your orgasm - lapping up everything that seeped out. Letting you smear your juices on the bottom half of his face.

You lift your leg from the other side of his head, moving from his face and flopping backwards onto the bed. Laying heads and tails, completely spent.

But Bucky follows after you - not letting you get far. And before you have a second to process it, he's back between your legs, lips kissing at the soft plush of your inner thighs.

Poking his head up to look at you, he asks. "One more?"

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yoursinfulurges · 1 year

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Enchantress

Reader x Aemond Targaryen

Summary: You would guard your throne from vultures no matter the cost and so the games begins. In which Aemond Targaryen regrets making an enemy of his wife.

Aemond is a cheating hoe. No one wanted this I just really wanted to write some angst. As always your features and ethnicity is not mentioned, background is not specified but you are a highborn. After the Serpentine series I wanted something spicy.

Word count: 8.1k

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By nature you were a patient person, taking great diligence in ensuring emotions doesn't overcome your judgment. But as the hour grows late your forbearance for your husband had begun to wear thin. It nears twelve and you had been waiting for Aemonds return for well over three hours now. With every passing minute you find yourself drowning in madness as you draw a blank on where or what he was up to. Succumbing to the ill thoughts on your mind as the flickering dance and crackle of the fire floods your senses. You're tired, you're anxious and your ears are ringing yet you still sat unmoving. Why?

There was no doubt that the man in question confused you to no end, nevertheless you still made sure to act accordingly and play the part of his wife. Although you're finding it increasingly hard to upkeep the role of his good little lover when the man is hardly in your presence. It was true that your marriage with Aemond was one out of political leverage, but you still did your best to care for him. Always making sure your relationship was fostered and tended to in the hopes of something blossoming.

You had faith that he would grow fonder of you as the years went on, but with every passing day that thought was challenged. It had been a long journey but without fail you acted kind and loving towards him no matter the expense. Valuing your relationship with Aemond a great deal, you were willing to do anything for him.

Even endure his callous behaviors towards you.

It was no secret that the prince was rather displeased with your union. For a man that preached the importance of preforming duty, he was awfully bad at it. You had been wedded for almost half a year now and have yet to consummate the marriage. Not that you weren't willing to, the problem lies with your husband. It was plain to see behind closed doors that he did not take you seriously.

In his eye this marriage was a joke, you were but strangers at best due to his lack of effort. Now you know not of the origins of his distant behavior but you've tried your best to minimize them. Dragging Aemond off to accompany you on walks around the castle, asking him to join you for lunch; everyday without faltering you tried.

But to no avail, your attempts does little to dull the wall between you two. He doesn't interact with you unless it was mandatory or for show, displayed little emotions past cordial. And god forbid laying a hand on you was the end of the fucking world. Was this who Aemond Targaryen was? Cold and cynical? Deprived of all that makes a person human. Every time you looked at him he was a ghost, fading into the background slipping from your grasp. He was untouchable, invisible. His self-righteous aura creating a vortex around him.

The distance between Aemond and you had started to become apparent to the ladies in court. Everyday without fail they would voice their concerns, asking you if you were being mistreated. Of course you lie, a task that comes easy to you, easier than you thought it would since you had little ties with your husband. Though it makes you wonder if Aemond also found it easy to lie to you....

The thought gets lost on you as an intrusive sound rings through your chambers. Brows furrowing at the disturbance, why would Aemond feel the need to knock on your shared room? The train was rather absurd so it leads you into thinking that it wasn't him paying you a visit. Much to your disappointment. With confusion in your voice, you call out to the visitor.

"Come in." Anxiously bringing your palms together on your lap. Your fingers locked themselves in a manner of worry, squeezing tightly as you prepare yourself. Soon the door opens and in follows Ser Larys Strong. His pronounced way of walking evident as the cane hits the ground harshly. The sound announcing and intrusive, almost counting down the seconds before he reaches you.

"I am sorry to intrude on your private time my Lady, especially when the hour is so late but I fear this matter cannot wait till dawn." He smiles sympathetically although you do not like implications behind it. You notion for him to sit across from you, watching the scene carefully. You don't utter a word as he moves to take his place. Ser Larys's visits are always prompted.... And by the look on his face it reads that he knows something you don't... That fact slightly unnerved you...

"I thought this news would be best heard if it were from me.... From a friend..." Bullshit. Larys always had an ulterior motive, he liked cultivating favors from the court only for them to owe him in return. No doubt that he was a sick man that enjoyed manipulating others, finding power in mind games in a way that he cannot with the sword. You were far from friends but played the game together. He only viewed you so highly because you were one of the only people the didn't fall for his lures and cryptic words.

"I take it this news is not pleasant." Lifting a brow at him in question, you kept your manner strong and imposing. He swallows and nods his head briefly, averting his gaze from you to look at the floor.

"Earlier today.... Prince Aemond was caught indulging a servant girl in Harrenhal." He says the words carefully though no amount of safe keeping can withhold your anger. Larys words were vague but you understood clearly what he meant. Shaking in your seat, you calm yourself. Or at least tried to....

You were going to fucking kill him.

"Ah.... I see... Who else knows?" Your words come out strained. Tone cut and tense, implying that you were holding back an outburst as tears of anger slowly clouds your gaze. What did you honestly expect? Your mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, vision tunneling as rage began crawling up your center. For a moment your breath stills, the abyss captivating you before you snap out of it and focusing on Ser Larys once more. He says nothing as he watches the fire burn, avoiding your venomous stare.

"Just you and me." He nods slowly, finally looking at you, only to drop his gaze soon after. He was uncomfortable beyond measure... His mouth opens to say something once more but stops to take in your shape. You clutched at the chair with a murderous grip, nails digging into the stained leather. Slowly he met your unmoving eyes, taken aback by the poison swimming amongst them. Gods be good... That look never meant well. The tension was heavy and for a moment Larys feared for his own life. You were not sad nor disheartened, instead you were seething in hatred. The room fogs with something unpleasant as the walls welcomed the illness like an old friend. Such atmosphere was suffocating as he watched you shake in retribution, no doubt planning your next calculating moves.

Vengeance. That was all you wanted. Many questions plagued your mind, had you not been good enough for him? You've done all that you could to please him and yet he disrespect your name with his adultery. You honestly didn't know what to say, it wasn't like this was much of a shock to you since a part of you always had suspicions. But you dismissed those thoughts as nothing but intrusive and toxicant. Yet to hear the words out loud coming from a reputable man such as Ser Larys Strong was much different than you telling yourself. Larys was many things but he was not a liar. His words always had claim and a backbone, despite how distasteful the intentions behind them may be. You could not care less about what he wants to get out of you, what you want to know is what else he's keeping locked away. And what will it take to get him talking.

"The servant that caught them and sent for a raven was found killed under.... suspicious circumstances... I only received both letters now, of the girls retelling and of her death.... A dagger through the mouth what an awful way to go..." Larys speaks when you don't, watching the way you thought in silence. He wondered what you were thinking, for he was one of the only people that knew your true nature. You were a murderous woman, manipulative, vigilant, and vengeful... Behind those stupid smiles and shy fronts was an enchantress, turning the tides in her favor. And now an outsider trespasses on your waters. Larys knows more than anything that you were willing to guard your throne from vultures at any cost.

You didn't like coming second to anybody, and for a moment he prays for the prince...

"I understand that this must be difficult for you, but if you are ever in need... I'll be sure to be of service in this trying time..." You scoff at that, the sound reverberating through the room. There it was. The bait he dangles so tempting in front of foolish fish.

"At what cost Ser Larys, I am no fool. I know everything from you must always come at a price." Holding your chin up high, you crossed your arms and leaned back into your seat. Having calmed down a little, you plan a rainstorm of hell fire.

"Not this time... You see, this girl that had somehow managed to enthrall the prince.... She is a nuisance on my side so you can insure my allegiance is with you. As Lord of Harrenhal I make it a point to know everything and anything going on in my own castle, even if I'm not present. I can ensure you that I have eyes everywhere." You ignore the way your stomach turns at the thought of someone else captivating Aemond as you thought on his proposal. It would be quite useful to have someone with such connections on your side. Shaking your head as you corrected yourself. There were no sides nor factions, you were not at war with Aemond. Yet.

"Can you tell me the name of this girl?"

"She goes by Alys Rivers, you may know of her...." It was almost comical enough to force a laugh.

A bastard Strong... How truly ironic and cliche. It would seem that the very vendetta he had against his own nephews would be the cause of his own demise. The pain that rushed through you didn't burn anymore, instead it courses through your veins in bittersweetness, fueling your vengeance and need for revenge. You didn't care all that much about closure, instead looking for all the ways you can induce the same pain onto Aemond. You were patient to a fault, all the unwanted emotions manifesting into pettiness and spite.

To hurt Aemond Targaryen you must be precise and conniving, you couldn't afford any spill ups. In truth the stature he built of himself was great; intimidating, undying, a menace. But beneath all that you knew he was still the same little boy that got bullied for not having a dragon. Scars like that cannot be grown out of, especially when they've left such permanent imprints on him. You were not going to evoke One Eye Aemond who rides the largest dragon, but rather the young little boy he held so dearly to his heart. That was the Aemond you wanted to hurt. Not the man that gave you blank stares and barely spoke any words to you. Not the man that dares call himself your husband when he has not deserved the name. The neglected outcast freak, that was who you were going to murder.

How dare he choose her over you. Suddenly it clouds your vision. All the violence, the fire, the insecurities. Your inability to think clear, the pride and pain of being his wife. Your lust and distaste for the man that caused you such pain. It ruptures your heart. You would trade love for greed just to induce the same feelings onto him. Oh how you wanted to ruin him. Ruin her for him. By the end of it you wanted him begging at your knees, crying apologies. Who does Alys Rivers think she was to steal your husband away from you. And who does Aemond think he was to assume you wouldn't retaliate. Or perhaps he knew and simply didn't care... That was a common theme in your husband, not caring about you. He was more of a fool than you thought of if he thinks you were just going to stand for this and take it.

No. You wanted an eye for an eye. Or more plainly, a heart for a heart.

"Her existence threatens you." Speaking lowly as you projected your thoughts onto Ser Larys. You aren't the only one to have a reason to hate the aforementioned wench. You may be hazed with hatred but you are not blind. There was a reason Ser Larys chose to come to you instead of Aemond with this information. Without him you wouldn't have known anything, and surely the favor of a prince would be worth more than you could ever give him. Yet he came knocking at your door.

"I am the sole heir to my fathers title, if that bastard had somehow managed to persuade the prince then my very seat is challenged. An outsider amongst the natives. I need to ensure my status, my lady. Can I trust you on this." His words were frantic almost, his long brown hair falling over his face as he leaned in close. Ser Larys was pleading, in his own way...

"You can. Now, my friend... what will you have me do?" The smile that spread across your face was sinister as you prompted his guidance. Though it was more rhetorical, you knew what had to be done.

"Seduce Aemond. Capture his attention enough so that he begins to question his love for her." Love? Was that burned between them? Taking a deep breath to compose yourself, you thought on it more. It wasn't a bad design, far better than you stabbing a knife through Alys in front of Aemond. Only one minor flaw.

"And how shall I manage to do that!? The man can barely look at me!"

"To the unseeing eye it appears that way. Though the amount of times I've caught his gaze lingering longer than it should is great. You are a smart woman y/n, I'm sure you can figure out a way to break through his barrier."

Could it be that all this time you just hadn't noticed him looking at you? Regardless that was irrelevant as you pondered your first move. You and Larys had the advantage, Aemond doesn't know that you knew of his infidelity. And as far as you're aware your image as his good little wife was still intact, so perhaps you would play into that role more. Aemond’s betrayal made you realize that you've grown stiff as a board. It dulls you as you realize that you've come to be the very woman you pray for. Desperately lost in their marriage. Endlessly dreaming, hoping one day Aemond would come around and play pretend with you. He was taking advantage of you without you knowing it. He sees your very being as something he can twist and turn in his palm like one of his daggers.

At a certain point he was bound to get cut.

To hurt Aemond Targaryen you must hurt that little boy. It had been weeks since your night with Ser Larys and silently you had been scheming. So far you remained indifferent, trying hard to make sure you aren't faltering by acting the same. It was a hard task that you've come to dread as you knew the cold truth behind his behaviors. At day he would be with you, by night he would be deep in her. You only began to notice the missing hours in your days and curse yourself for being so foolish. You thought long and hard about how you were going to approach the situation. Dissecting your husband under a magnifying glass whilst hiding behind timid smiles. And soon enough your praying and mute jealousy had manifested into the form of a golden haired beast bearing red and gold.

Ser Tyrin Lannister...

A handsome, charming young lord that has come to pay the crown a visit... Though you saw him for what he truly was, a prideful and egotistical man that's blinded by arrogance. The perfect pawn for your game. Truthfully, you only picked him out because he beared such acute resemblance to prince Aegon. The only difference in appearance was instead of the famed silver hair his was pure gold. You hoped that your choice of companion would strike a nerve with Aemond, seeing that he's spent so much of his youth being tormented by the image of the man.

And by the way he was glaring daggers at you and Tyrin, your expectations fall true. It was easy to manipulate the Lannister with sugar coated words and flirtatious giggles, the problem lied with Aemond taking the bait. Up until this point you were basically going off theory, but now you can trust that Aemond was a possessive man.

Your laugh rings through the room as you giggle at something Tyrin whispered in your ear. The man was indeed charismatic which made talking to him easy enough. If you hadn't diluted him to nothing but a playing piece you would have found yourself actually enjoying his company. You had been acquainted for quite some time now, ever since his first arrival, and everyday without fail you were with him. Slowly but surely you had began replacing Aemond with Tyrin in your life. It was him you went on walks with, it was him you dinned with. There was no doubt that Lannisters had vanity and he was aware of it, he was aware of how his gracious gifts won you over and softened you. Or so he thought. In weeks time you had managed to accumulate a collection of gold and ruby jewelries from the man himself.

Something Aemond has not taken kindly to, seeing the way his jaw would clench everytime you adorned the treasures. At this point you had purposely made a show of it, parading in a red and gold gown with massive ruby earrings dangling from your ears. All while you showcased a brilliant ruby and gold choker around your neck. You looked more like Tyrin's wife than Aemond's and perhaps that was your goal. Though honestly your endgame gets lost on you as you're having so much fun toying with him. No doubt Aemond had begun to pick up on your absence and it was hilarious to see. His worries and insecurities must've gotten the best of him because now you can't go anywhere without him trailing behind. He was always there, watching in silence, perhaps judging you but you did not care. The fact of the matter was, whatever you were doing was working.

"If you stare any longer I'm sure a fire will start to burn." Aegon says dryly from beside his brother, looking down at his empty chalice before placing it down all together. The elder rolled his eyes at the familiar 'hmmm' that escaped Aemond as he opens his mouth to say something but he turns mute. Instead he narrowed his eyes at the sight.

Contrary to popular belief, Aegon was not a complete fucking asshole. Well... sometimes he wasn't... He sensed his brothers discomfort greatly and although he didn't want to pry, he wanted to know what laid within the inner workings of Aemond's mind. Call it care or intrigue, but he loved gossip like an old widowed wife. Fact of the matter was, Aegon Targaryen was painful self aware and it didn't take much to figure out that Tyrin Lannister was him in lions clothing. Of course Tyrin was him if he actually tried and excelled at things. His drunken habits aside, he wanted to know why his sister in law was so taken by him with golden hair....

"He looks like me..." Aegon turns to his brother only to notice him swiftly walking away at his words. He turns to the man once more, brows pulling in contempt. Maybe he should have been born a Lannister....

To say that Aemond was irritated was an understatement. It was all so ridiculous. The fact that you were throwing yourself so carelessly for a man such as that imbecile. All Lannisters were dazzling armors with nothing truly potent inside. They were blinded by shine and glimmer just as much as everyone else was from their looks. He wouldn't admit it out loud but the resemblance Ser Tyrin had to his brother was uncanny. And he wouldn't dare admit that these unbecoming feelings were derived from that fact alone. Call Aemond what you will, a bitter husband, a possessive man, but he did not like what was playing out in front of him.

Over the passing weeks you had devoted your attention to that man and him alone. From the moment you awoke you were dressed in red and gold, throughout the day you were by his side. He no longer saw you and you no longer sought for his attention. He thought it'd be nice, to finally get you off his back but everyday he grows increasingly impatient. Were you not his wife? He knows he doesn't have a proper claim over you especially with how he's been acting but he still owned his emotions. And he was allowed to feel however he wanted to. Although he doesn't speculate any infidelity from your end, mainly because you weren't the type in his eye, it was plain that you were taken by a lion. Whether you knew it or not, you were dancing with a beast and Aemond would not take such defeat.

In all honesty, he's certain you aren't fucking Tyrin. Now perhaps that was just wishful thinking fueling his denial but you weren't exactly the type. All your marriage he's known you as nothing but dull... The perfect embodiment of who his parents wanted him to marry. Kind, respectable, a push over... In his opinion you were devoted to a fault. Seeing you as nothing but mindless doll who had no other choice but to fall in line and agree with whoever owned them. Hence why when seeking companionship he purposely chose some the exact opposite of you. Alys was older by a few years and had all the experience he craved. It was no question why that he sought for her instead of you. Word around the castle was that you were thought to be too pious to succumb to sins of temptation unless duty was in order.

He hadn't meant to grow so attached to Alys but she was exhilarating. Everytime they were apart he yearned for her body. She was captivating and alluring in all senses, intoxicating him. With long brown hair and a figure that could make the gods envious, she held him with a death grip. His Alys. Aemond knew that what he had with her wasn't love but more so addiction, but he didn't care what it was just as long as he got to have more of it. The differences between you and Alys were stark to see, you were at polars end. But what drawned him to her was the fact that she was so aware of her touch. He liked women that knew how to wield a weapon, and he quite honestly couldn't picture you doing the same. They called her many names for her beauty, searing her as a witch for her dominion over man.

If he wanted an enchantress you would give it to him. You would be better than Alys in every way imaginable. If he wanted someone who can satisfy him then you would drive him into the brink of madness with your touch. You wanted to suffocate and flush out Aemond Targaryen till he was no more than a shell. It started off slow. Switching your clothing in favor of another, something more hugging and accentuating. Your old gowns so colorful and modest were now replaced with darker tones that showed off your body well. It was an odd switch but you felt more comfortable this way strangly enough.

Then you traded innocent stares for something more bidden, your once doe eyes turning siren as you realize the effects of you had. Perhaps Aemond cheating on you was a blessing in disguise. You only now realize how good it felt to be wanted. All throughout court, men and women a like would fall in line for you. They would bow if you commanded so. You looked like someone to be taken seriously and not so much like a walking virtue. Everytime you entered a room eyes would be on you, the silent respect your new aura demanded was intoxicating. You knew who you were and what you were capable of, it was time for them now to know too.

It was empowering. You felt Immortal and unchallenged. To have them speak so nervously to you, the shy stares and permanent blushes. Your new change had prompted many curiosities but what captures people so was your attitude. Cunning, sly and quick witted, all the aspects of your being that you suppressed. You had never felt this in control all your life, like the tides were moved by your will.

All your life you've been taught to be one way despite your true wishes. You painted yourself as the image of what a lady was supposed to be without understanding why you were doing it. Or who you were doing it for. Perhaps this is why the change was so liberating, because you no longer chose to hide yourself. Maybe this was who you were all along and just needed a push to embrace it. You no longer felt like you were wearing a mask and truthfully you don't think you could ever put it on again. Not when they all doted around you. Not they all craved for you. Not when you had such power over desires.

They all fell into line... all but Aemond.... but you had something special for him. For now you let his judgment cloud him. You doubt that he's picked up on your facade faltering. It was quite strange to embrace the very values your teaching went against. Sensuality, unkept emotions, temptation. Having been guided to act one way only to realize that people yearned for the other more. To switch from being subdued to domineering. You no longer let people tell you what to do and how truly inebriating it was.

〄

"You are intoxicating...."

You know not how much time has passed, only consumed on Tyrin's lips as he grasped your body all over. Laughing when his teeth grazed your neck, you threw your head back in bliss. Maybe this was what the Septa was trying to keep you away from, the overwhelming sensations of sex. It rushes through you, sending your skin on fire in it's wake. God, he knew how to please you so. Giggling into your ear as his golden locks curtain the sinful things he whispered, Tyrin's fingers expertly yanks your skirt up. You let him pin you to the bed, a stupid smile spreading across your face. If such an act was so bad then why on earth did it feel so good?

How exhilarating it was to be desired, to be wanted and fondled with care. And to think, all this time you had spent rotting away in your bed chambers waiting for Aemond. If he would not satisfy you then you would satisfy yourself, fulfillment taking the form of a rogue lover. Perhaps it was messy to set your eyes on the men of the court but maybe that's what you wanted. You like the thrill of getting caught, liked the rumors that murmured through the halls. Although you hadn't slept with anyone but Tyrin, you couldn't contain yourself from teasing the occasional lord and lady. Naturally, word got around of your effects and of you and Tyrin's speculated affairs. And not so long after, word finally traveled to your dear stupid husband. Though it wasn't until he caught you in the middle of the act did he finally take it seriously. Up until this point they were but toothless claims, not believing his tight laced wife would ever be capable enough to find her own back bone.

"Faster.... faster..." You say through half lidded eyes, blurry vision locked onto the man in between your legs. Your fingers intertwined with his golden hair as you guide his head at your will. Body heaving and grinding up against his mouth. You pull at your skirts more to get a better view of his face.

All was falling into place and you would make your first strike as footsteps approached up the hall. You were nearing ecstasy as your eyes stay trained onto the door. You had perfectly timed everything and in a manner of seconds you would land such a blow so harsh that it would shatter Aemonds views of you. His boring and dull, obedient little wife coming undone by a man that was not him. You suppress a moan as Tyrin slips his middle finger in you, fucking you in and out as his lips wrap around your swollen clit. Almost there, almost there....

Oh it was all too much yet not enough at the same time. It floods you, sending you over the edge as you desperately grasp onto the bed covers. And at the sound of the door opening you let out a series of gasps turned moans as you lock eyes with the cause of your downfall. The look on his face was satisfaction enough, but you wanted more. Eyes closing in bliss as your head falls onto the bed, a laugh so sinister rings through the room. You pull your skirt over to hide your exposed skin as you smile up at Tyrin. Drawing him close to place a long loving kiss on his lips, you nod your head out the door, whispering empty promises of later. Aemond watches the whole exchange, mouth clenched and fists balled. As the man walked past him and out the door Aemond had to physically stop himself from mauling him and setting him on fire.

There was no doubt about it, he was angry. Shaking in place much like you had in your seat weeks ago. He didn't know what these emotions were blossoming in his chest but he didn't like it. It burned in a way so violent he fears that a hole may form in his chest. He does nothing for a few moments, simply standing in place eyeing you like a predator to it's prey. You do the same, putting all your body weight on your elbow as you laid on the bed unmoving. If he expected a stream of desperate apologies to fall from your mouth then he was not going to get it. You looked at eachother with much venom and alcohol. The gratification you got coursed through you as the image he had witnessed stayed forever burned in his brain.

Good. You wanted him to remember that forever. Much like you'll remember his actions towards you for eternity. Suddenly you were angry. Angry at him, angry at his fucking Alys, angry at Ser Larys. Snarling in hate as your gaze hardens you force yourself to speak.

"Get out." The words were cold, and for a moment Aemond flinches as it echoed through the walls. He does what you command, harshly shutting the door behind him and you fall onto the bed once more.

What had you done?

You were getting even. You wouldn't be here if he hadn't have provoked you first. Truthfully, you didn't know what scared you more, the fact that you could have potentially ruined your marriage or how absolutely addicting it was to inflict pain onto him. One things for certain though, you weren't done.

Aemond didn't know what to feel. He was a mess of emotions, lashing out at anything and everything in his way. A part of him knew that this was only fair yet why did it hurt him so bad? He thought he didn't care about you, thought you were a mere pawn in this game but it appeared that all this time you were playing him. All of it is a mystery to him as he begins to think on your relationship more. What parts of you were actually real, which was really you and which was his wife? Were your affections for him true and had he hurt you so? All this time he thought you were playing a role, or maybe you were. Because the girl laying on that bed laughing like the stranger was not his wife.

No, she was a demon. A succubus getting off on his pain. All of it is so confusing, the bruises you left dragging him down into the depths. Yet why did it excite him a little... Watching you like that.... Aemond feels as though he couldn't breathe, the remaining fragments of his heart shriveled at the thought of falling victim to weakness. He would not allow this, he wouldn't allow a man like Tyrin Lannister to best him and steal you away. The sorrow he felt was akin to an old friend, the bittersweetness that plagued his soul reminded him of his youth. This was a feeling he promised himself he would never endure again. The feeling of being less than and not enough. He had failed you. He had failed you so bad that you had to go seeking for another. Now he knew that he was being a hypocrite on that but he was vulnerable.

Being vulnerable was not something Aemond Targaryen was used to.

〄

"You aren't to see him again." Aemond yelled, trailing after the girl as you entered your shared chambers. The space thankfully empty as you ignored his impending attitude. Your breath quickens as you find yourself caught in a rather unpleasant situation. It had been merely an hour since that gurly sight with Ser Tyrin Lannister, and Aemond finds himself losing all remaining composure he had left with you.

"Huh?" There was something rather vexing about your tone that proved to be daggers in Aemond's ears. The way you expressed such profound boredom and taciturn, as if this conversation was an inconvenience to you. You displayed an tired exposure that puzzled him to no end because the confrontation has yet to begin. Your slack demeanor and annoyed undertone was both riddling and infuriating to Aemond.

"Ser Tyrin Lannister, you aren't allowed to see him again!" Deciding to forgo any avoidance, Aemonds tone was cut clean. He told you how it was, and he did not care about preserving feelings when you were showing such childish behavior. You would either accept never seeing that man, or any man for that matter again, or Aemond would turn to more extreme measures.

"Well... who knew it was possible to evoke such emotions from you. And here I thought you were incapable." Aemond's eye widen in shock as you put on an uncharacteristic display of theatrics. You scoffed and silently berated him with your inflection. This was a side of you he's never seen before. It was a tiny probe that was meant to provoke him by angling into his worries in a brash and unnecessary way. Aemond didn't know whether or not you were intentionally trying to anger him, but he couldn't find it in himself to care if it was deliberate or not.

"...I beg your pardon?" His words wry and barren with any emotions, genuinely taken aback.

"Well then kneel and start begging." You turn to him sharply, backing him against the door as he looked down at you in shock, yet you don't back down.

"You can't tell me what to do. But if you wish to keep believing that you have some sort of power over me, I will try my best to be more discreet with my partners." You wave your hand at him, as if done with this conversation but he was far from finished.

"I will not have you acting like a whore y/n! You are my wife and mine alone!" Aemond did not mean to call you that but as the words slip from his lips he soon finds himself regretting it. Watching the way you hesitated for a moment, a flash of hurt gleaming on your face before turning angry. He knew men have called their wives much worse but not him. His mother had always made sure he knew how to treat women. If only she knew how that back fired...

A whore....

He thought that you were a whore......

Normally you wouldn't let such meaningless words effect you so but that was exactly it, it wasn't meaningless. Not when it came from the mouth of the person you once thought the world of. Aemond used to be everything to you, and to hear that coming from him was disheartening to no end. Yes you knew that he was just angry because you pushed him so, but that fact became irrelevant as you begin to feel claustrophobic from your emotions. You felt frail, burning with a thick blanket of insecurities and rage constricting you, like a greedy serpent, ready to prey and corrupt you whole. You felt like Alice, falling into a dark rabbit hole of anxiety and panic, despair beginning to pull you down. It was all too much, and you suddenly began to feel so small. Your once defiance now subdued and replaced with the image of a shaking girl maddened. You felt afraid... not of Aemond but of your emotions...

Compose yourself, you were not going allow such disrespect and you were not going to fall into your old ways again.

"Don't play the fool, Aemond. You started this. Quite honestly what did you think was going to happen?" You yelled firmly in his face, trying so hard to push your emotions away. But thoughts of Alys tainted your mind. He would never speak to her this way. He would never act this way around her. You let the bitterness hug and empower you. The same need to hurt him reignited.

"I am simply playing the game that you started." You were reticent but in a prolix and unnecessary way. You would not reveal that he had hurt you so. Aemond opens his mouth to say something but doesn't for a few moments.

"What prompted this change..." He sounded desperate, his words breaking as he desperately searched for an answer.

"I don't know! Maybe now I don't feel the need to hide behind a mask anymore." You say to him honestly. This need for revenge and affinity for spite and pettiness, it had always been there. Aemond just didn't look at you long enough to notice it.

"I'm tired Aemond. I'm tired of doing my best to please you only for it to not be good enough!"

It wasn't just about you or Aemond being possessive anymore, it was the fact that you had reached your end. Was it so wrong to want a partner that actually loved and cared for you? Was it so wrong to want to be loved? The more you thought the more empty and hollow you felt. You can feel your soul decaying all together as anxiety crept up on you. He didn't want you.... The little voice in your head spoke. He thinks Alys is better than you..... stop... Why do you try so bad? because I must... You don't deserve to be with him... yes I do... No you don't... The voices in your head taunted, feeling feverish and flushed, you took a step back from Aemond. Suddenly afraid to be too close to him. But it did no help to calm the mean words the whirlwind through your brain. It picked at you, in a way that the thought of Alys couldn't but funny enough it was the personification of her plaguing your mind.

He doesn't think you're good enough...

I don't think you're good enough...

He doesn't think you're good enough...

We don't think you're good enough...

It's not just her anymore, the voice that invades your head is your parents speaking to you..... Then it's the King and Queen screaming... And after that it's Aegon and Helaena laughing at you...

It's Aemond talking down to you, —it's everything, it's everyone, all at once, all-consuming, suffocating and demanding. And suddenly the ability to hear is ripped from you; it's nothing. You're forced into a pliable mass being sullied, your body isn't yours anymore. It's a vessel of flooding anxiety and negative thoughts.

"I want somebody that loves me...." You say, looking at the man with such betrayal.

Be strong....

"I want a happy life with a husband that can actually stand to be in my presence. I want children of my own to fill the hole you left." You spoke after a short minute, your voice small and fragile, pleading... Aemond watches you shake and cry from where you stand. He had done this to you...

"I have spent so long loving you but that love has never served me..." Your words were soft, a timbre of spite concealed with broken confidence. You hated this... hated how you got in your own head and ruined your own self esteem... Pain feeding off your scorched heart and the embers of your love for Aemond. It was agonizing... agonizing to watch him look at you cry like this. But perhaps he needed to see you this way.

He had hurt you so badly and the moment he finally got a taste of his own medicine he ordered you to stop. It was the consuming fear of not being enough for him that killed you so, the thought of not being able to live up to the expectations. And for Aemond to stand there and call you a whore when all you ever did was try to love him.

"Forgive me my dear wife... I did not know that you have been suffering so badly all this time. Had I known...." He softens for a moment, trying to get you to understand whilst failing to consider that you didn't need to, he did.

"But you did! You knew and you still went off in search for something I cannot give you. Had you have known would it have changed anything?" You scream in broken anger and despair.

"No..."

You never learn, hearing it in your own head was a lot different than hearing it out loud. It will never be the same, it will always be ten times worse. Aemond had just confirmed your words. Of course you knew that he thought this way but it hurt a lot more. Just like that night with Ser Larys. Your shoulders slump in defeat, frowning as tears began to prick at your eyes. Aemond takes notice of this, swiftly cupping your cheeks with his large hands and forcing you to look him.

"No, because either way you would have been discontent. I cannot give you the life that you wanted." Yet you can give it to her?

"Why not!?" You yelled with such anger and rage, ripping his hands off you. Your voice echoing through the room as you cussed the boy out. You were frustrated beyond measure and above all else heartbroken. Was it truly too much to ask for? You would lying if you said it wasn’t nice having him treat you like this. Maybe weeks ago you would've swoon at the thought of his hands caressing you. But that was then and this was now.

"I am not made for love..." You fear that you can slay Vhagar with the great efforts it takes you now to remain calm. That was his excuse? A pitiful one at that. He had you standing there.... sad and broken... and all he can come up with was that love wasn't in his nature? Pain is the perfect word to describe this sensation oppressing your chest at those words. This doesn't stop you from peering up at him in question. You felt a calling to yell at him but you couldn't, no matter how badly you wanted to you. Staying baffled, every cry dying in the back of your throat. Your visage contorting in somber at Aemonds blasphemy.

"I don't believe you!" You yell at him, pushing at his chest when he tries to hug you. You break down in his arms, collapsing onto the floor as you weep into him. Aemond desperately held you close, oh what has he done to you.... He felt a myriad of emotions wash over him. Guilt, sadness, shame... He was ashamed he pushed you to this point. So he held the woman he barely knew well enough to call his wife.

"Tell me Aemond! Does your heart belong to another? Tell me now, please and I'll stop." You didn't know what you meant by stop. Stop trying? Stop loving? But if he said the words you would end it so. Aemond looks down at you, hugging onto the portrait that was once his wife.

"No! No one has captured my heart, those who came second to you, they mean nothing. They are nothing..." He says quickly, his words ringing truthful. He didn't know what prompted this new change but he panicked at the thought of losing you.

"Prove it to me." You whispered slowly. Uttering the words in a tone so cold and firm, your gaze locks onto Aemond's. Your wide eyes morphing into something else as a small smirk pulls at your lips. Distraught gone from your face as the water flow of tears halt.

"Bring me the head of Alys Rivers."

"How do you know..." He looks at you in shock for a moment, your expression ridden of distress and replaced with something sinister.... Watching his expression carefully, you place your hands on his shoulders and leaned into his ear.

"Do it and I will be yours again." It came out as a pur, a tempting whisper urging him, and Aemond found himself liking the way it sounded. That was Aemond's cord. He was as possessive as he was jealous. Much like you, he didn't like being second to anyone, but would that be enough. Turning your head to meet his gaze, it would be so easy to kiss you but he keeps a firm hold on your waist.

"If not then I will take it myself." Nodding your head briefly, you remove his arms from around you. Standing up, you walk over to your shared bed, wiping away the rogue tears before sitting down. Aemond's brows furrowed in confusion, you were much more composed now and hidden behind your eyes was a sense of coldness.

"It appears that I have much to learn about you my lovely wife. But If it will please you then as you wish." Aemond stands soon after you, nodding his head as he planned to make amends.

"You're willing to kill her just like that?" Turning your head to him slightly, you questioned where his loyalty lied.

"I told you she means nothing to me... Did you think otherwise?" His sly expression displayed a certain vainglory that caused you to turn away. So maybe you had thought otherwise but your insecurities had to come from somewhere.

"If you're lying to me Aemond I will have your other eye." Threatening may not be the answer but you liked the hesitancy it triggered from him.

"I suppose this is my fault.... you don't trust me." Nodding his head as he walked slow steps towards you, Aemond kneels down in front of the bed and takes your hands in his.

"You have given me every reason not to trust you." With a stiff lip, you turn from him.

"I know... But let me make it right." Guiding your chin with his fingers to make you look at him, you noticed a hint of regret and shame swimming in his eye.

"The road to forgiveness will not be easy." You tell him firm.

"I know... my love." You ignore the butterflies that awoke from that title and watch as he rose to grab his riding coat. And so it begins...

༺━━━━━━━━━༻༒༺━━━━━━━━━༻

Autho's Note:

Let me know if you guys want more! There's more to this story but I chopped it up into two parts because I wasn't done and I wanted to have something out for you guys. I swear to god I drop fics unannounce then dissappear for months lmao.

- Armoni

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m-ayo-o · 4 months

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HIIII, I've been thinking in reader wanting to ride megumi's face but she is so shy to ask but somehow megumi finds out what she wanna do😋😼

somehow? he knows. he's a smart guy ;) 18+ ! watching porn, masturbation mention, oral, afab reader x 21+ megumi

You can't articulate it. Every time he goes down on you... you want more? Sure, he encourages you to move your hips. He grabs your body as he kneels between your legs on the bed and drags you closer, sucking and making out with your pussy.

But after watching a certain pornographic educational video... you're starting to desire what you saw. A girl- a very pretty girl- climbed up on her partner's lap, then he pulled her higher, over his chest, then higher- over his face!?

Won't she suffocate him like that? How can he--

But when you hear the audio of the man moaning, you know he can breathe just fine- and if he can't? He sure as hell doesn't care.

And since watching that video, sliding your fingers down between your wet folds, you can't get the idea out of your head. In every intimate instance with your sweet boyfriend you want to bring it up, but you just can't.

He notices your hips bucking with such need- it seems to be growing every time you do this together; every time he pleasures you. But he pins you down and holds you still, sucking and licking you so thoroughly.

Had he considered pulling you up to perch on his chin? Sure. But will he do it... without being asked? Perhaps not.

You'd love it, surely? Or would you be too embarrassed and tell him to stop? That could potentially ruin the mood, so he keeps quiet for now, pressing himself further into you and humming contently.

"Ngh- Megumi?"

"Mm?"

"C-can we try... a different position?"

Uh.

"What position, princess?"

Could you be any less specific?

Do you want him to push you back, tilt your body up with your ass in the air and he's kneeling over you, sinking his tongue in from above?

Or... on your knees? With his face smushed into you from behind? He's sure he could manage that.

Maybe you want to sit on the edge of the bed, with your legs spread?

You stare right into his eyes for a moment, until he pops his lips from you and sits on his haunches.

"Baby, what is it?"

I can't read your mind, dammit.

You wish he could.

Your eyes flit over his gorgeous features, you bite your lip and grip at the sheets. He sees your shyness, your inability to express your needs... and he guesses. It's a hunch. But in all honesty, he thinks, what girl wouldn't want this?

He lies down on the bed and watches your eyes go wide with shock.

"Come on, sweetie," he pats his chest, gesturing for you to sit up there.

He moves you up by tugging your thighs, now you're sitting over him with a certain look in your eyes that confirms all of his thoughts.

"Sit on my face."

He tells you to do it, and you swear you're going to lose all of your self control. You perch up there like it's your damn throne and he makes you so comfortable you start to run your fingers into his black hair and admire that pretty face of his.

And he can't help it now, licking you and pressing his tongue up and into you, swirling around the bud of your clit and through your folds. It's addicting, the way you start to move, and the view he has- good god- your stomach and tits have never looked more sexy. He holds your waist and encourages you to move. You have no idea what you're doing, but fuck it feels so good and you can't stop.

"Mmmhmm- that's it princess-"

He feels you getting closer. He knows the look on your face now- how your eyebrows arch with concentration and your back gets a little stiff. He can feel every muscle in your cute body... he knows the dips and rises like the back of his hand.

"Cum on me, hm?"

He's asking you to. And you can't keep him waiting.

"M- mhm- Megumi-- y-you're too good at this-!"

He knows.

"Haha, you're so cute-"

He watches you steady yourself and eventually slow down, as your hips still over his face.

"Next time... just ask me, okay?"

Guessing is fun. But taking orders? That's hot.

megumi | m.list

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #female reader #megumi fushiguro #18+ content #megumi x reader #megumi imagine #megumi <3 #megumi fushiguro smut #megumi fushiguro imagine #megumi fushiguro x reader

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braxix · 21 days

Text

Galadriel definitely pulls the "I'm older than the sun and the moon" card and everyone else hates it.

Elrond loves to pull the "In some sense the sun and the moon are my distant cousins" back at her and it sends everyone younger than him into a state of shock every time, they hate it.

Celeborn would pull the "My great uncle was the king" card if it wouldn't make people realize he could be in line for the throne. He's seen the amount of work Galadriel and Elrond put into not having to be queen or king and he isn't risking it. He's staying out of this.

Cirdan is older than all of them, but just wants to go to Valinor so he stays out of their way. He also has the "older than the sun and moon" card, but he also has the "I'm only here cause I'm loyal" card, no one knows who he's loyal to anymore so it worries them greatly when he pulls that card out.

Gandalf tries to hide his cards behind a smoke screen, but the previous four already know what his cards are. It's not hard to figure out, he declared all of his intentions upfront when he got to these shores.

Saruman has his cards up his sleeves and lies about everything. No one believes him anymore except Gandalf.

#lotr #lord of the rings #silmarillion #elrond #elrond peredhel #lotr elrond #lotr celeborn #galadriel #lotr galadriel #saruman #celeborn #gandalf #lotr saruman #cirdan #lotr cirdan

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tanglepelt · 1 year

Text

Dp x dc idea 40

Quick summary: Danny finds Ellie in the basement strapped to a table. They book it after destroying portal. Fentons think Danny’s possessed and chase. They capture Ellie again with GIW. Danny pretends to be an ambassador to the infinite realm. They don’t need to know he’s the king. Threatens war. Batfam are near. They intervene.

The fentons find out about Ellie. The whole halfa thing not the clone thing. They decide obviously a ghost possessed a dead child and was using their body. That’s why she could transform back and forth.

Que the metal table and straps.

Danny was very concerned when Ellie didn’t show up to there monthly meet up. He tried to text her and call her to no response. Being the good older brother he is he went hunting.

Not able to find her, Danny is ready to beg frostbite for the infamap. He promised not to take it again. But no one said anything about begging.

When he goes to the basement he sees ellie. Thankfully before and vivisection or cutting began. She was just strapped down with a machine taking blood.

Que him freeing her. Destroying the record they had. Injecting her with a ecto-dejecto to get ectoplasma in her system to kick up the healing factor. He breaks the portal.

None of his rouges were out. They had a monthly agreement. No one was to interfere with his Ellie day. The box ghost tried it once. He had to deal with a feral Ellie. The rule is in place for there safety.

He knows he’ll be hearing the complaints for the rest of his afterlife. The fact jack and Maddie strapped what looks like a human down. Who knows what they’d do to his rouges. Those ones actively cause problems.

Danny and Ellie have a lovely road trip. Constantly running. Watching that back. Barley sleeping. One for the scrap book.

The end goal is to get to Gotham. Jazz goes to Gotham u. She’d hide them. She’d meet them if they had there phones. They got left behind in the panic. Getting to Jazz would be safe for them. She has a Fenton creep stick after all.

Upon getting to Gotham. They realize they both have no idea where the university is. So no idea how to get to jazz.

It’s late when they showed up. Like the middle of the night late. So they can’t even ask. Not to mention pay phones don’t really exist anymore. They didn’t have quarters regardless.

That’s when the Giw show up surrounding them. Jack and Maddie show up from nowhere grabbing Danny from behind. Yelling that he’s just possessed. He wouldn’t be helping the ghost girl if he wasn’t. He wouldn’t of destroyed there life’s work.

Danny. Thinking fast starts yelling at them asking if they really want a war. That he’s seen what they can do. It won’t even be a battle. They’d just close off access to the afterlifes. You have to travel through the realms to get to them. Leaving the dimension to suffer. No relief of death. Just pain and suffering.

Screaming how that she was the second in line for the throne. The princess.

Ellie just stares at him the whole time. Like wtf. She’s fought off a lot of the GIW agents. But they have blood bosoms that force her down.

Danny couldn’t get free from jack and Maddie. Going ghost would just force him to the ground as well.

Starts yelling how he hasn’t sided with his parents from the beginning. That he had tried to play ambassador. Freeing those taken. Making sure the realm didn’t fight back.

He lies about how he totally stopped the master of time itself from destroying the timeline. That pandora has not attacked because of him same as the mighty frostbite of the far frozen.

Basically he’s just spouting nonsense. Then threatens to summon frostbite. Frostbite taught him how after an incident where he very much hurt himself.

Just then people with grappling hooks show up. They end up detaining the GIW and jack and Maddie. Which is a good thing.

The bad thing was the bat furry wanted to ask questions.

Good thing the furries got rid of the blood blossoms.

Danny just gets through them. (They let him go to Ellie). The fight left Ellie injured. The blood blossoms had made the injured way word.

We’ll look like he was summoning frostbite.

Not to fight but because Ellie was hurt. The bat people barley reacted to the yeti appearing from a glowing green portal. But they did tense and take up new stances.

It’s quickly seen that frostbite is in fact a medic. Not a mighty warrior (from what they can tell).

They actually think Danny was actually the voice for the infinite realm. That was enough to get him dragged to space.

Who knows how’d they react if they knew he was the king. But hey the GIW got disbanded.

Now has a fic started. Feel free to steal this idea still!!!

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#danny fenton #danny phantom #dc x dp #dp x dc #dp dc crossover #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc prompt #justice league #ghost king danny #giw #dani phantom #you know #if one person even wants it #I’m probs gonna full flush this out #cause I’m in love with this idea #i just can’t justify doing it right now #Ellie gives Danny a hard time after that #she got outed as princess #she didn’t even know she was technically one #Danny just girlboss gatekeep gaslights everyone #getting forced to talk to people is not fun #but hey at least he’s currently in space #the sudden lack of knowledge on what an ambassador is hits him #like he has no idea what he’s supposed to do #is he technically allowed to make deals with them #he doesn’t know or care #he’s not actually ambassador #he just panicked #jazz gets a call not from Danny but someone on the watchtower #hey your brother is here don’t worry

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criminalamnesia · 2 years

Note

Please write about Harwin being married to Rhaenyra's sister. When the kids' fight happens in Driftmark, it's their son who attacks Aemond because he was defending his cousins and brother, who were fighting with Aemond and because he called them bastards. When Harwin and her arrive at the hall, they see everyone judging their kids, so they get protective over them, and the reader is the one to stand up against Alicent with the dagger, while Harwin protects their sons by hiding them behind him.

ooooh I love this! I hope I gave your idea justice!

Armor

warnings: f!targaryen!reader, fighting, not proofread, reader has children with harwin strong, no use of Y/N

summary: aemond loses an eye to your sons, but your only concern is protecting your family.

author’s note: I loved this request so much! I also tried to not make it an exact replica of the actual scene, and I didn’t want to make the names of the children the same as Rhaenyra’s, so they will be unnamed lol.

You practically sprinted down the corridors, fear driving your every step. Your hands grasped your nightgown to keep the fabric out of the way, wanting nothing to slow you down. You faintly registered the sound of thundering footsteps behind you– Harwin– but you were so focused on your mission it was as if he wasn’t even there.

When you reached the doors to the chamber, you pushed them open with all of your might, slightly stumbling into the room. All heads turned your way as you frantically searched for your sons.

“Boys!” You cried out, rushing over to them as you spotted them. They were standing by Rhaenyra and Daemon, with one of Rhaenyra’s hands on each of their shoulders. Their faces showed clear signs of relief as you hurried over to them and crouched down to their level, pulling them to you in a fierce embrace.

The room was silent as they watched the display before them. Harwin was right behind you, a hand resting on your shoulder as you squeezed your children. They put up no fight– they were as relieved to see you as you were to see them.

You pulled back from them after you were sure they wouldn’t be ripped away from you. Your hands cupped the cheeks of your youngest, turning his chin this way and that as you examined his bloodied face.

“What happened?” You asked him softly, concerned.

“Your children,” Alicent spat the words from somewhere behind you. You didn’t bother turning to look at her; you kept your gaze focused on the two boys in front of you. “Attacked my son.”

“I’m sure that whatever they did, they did in self defense.” Harwin spoke up, crossing his arms over his chest.

You two had been sleeping when a servant had abruptly entered your quarters to tell you the news. You hadn’t had the mind to make yourself more presentable, and neither had your husband.

You both stood in your nightclothes, and as you rose to stand beside your husband, you realized how underdressed you were compared to the rest of the room.

Alicent scoffed from her place by her wounded son. You watched them as you snaked a hand around one of Harwin’s arms. He looked down at you briefly before turning his attention back to Alicent.

“It was not self defense, it was planned and it was an attack. Your sons and Daemon’s girls cornered him and beat him–” she began, but was swiftly cut off by your eldest.

“He called us bastards!” Your eldest cried in outrage, pointing a finger at Aemond.

The room fell deathly silent. Your grip on Harwin’s arm tightened dangerously. Fury seethed through your veins at the false accusation.

It was not the first time you had heard those words. Alicent and the greens had been attempting to undermine you and Rhaenyra for years, but tensions were growing as you all grew older. With your father’s rapidly declining health, both sides were preparing to take the throne. Therefore, Alicent had recently taken to spreading lies throughout the castle about you and your sister. She never outright said anything, of course– but she had planted seeds that had grown quickly in the underbelly of the Red Keep.

“My children,” you began, gaze trained on Alicent with a murderous glint in your eyes. “Are not bastards. To insinuate that they are is treason.”

“That does not excuse what your children did to my son. He’s lost an eye over words!” Alicent cried, taking a few steps towards you. Harwin moved to stand in front of you as you pulled your children behind you.

The doors to the chamber creaked open once more as the King clambered into the room. He looked angry as he made his way towards his wife.

“What is the meaning of this?” He shouted, looking first to Alicent and then to you.

“Your grandchildren have attacked your son–" Alicent began, but you stepped out from behind Harwin.

“Your son called my children bastards–” you started with narrowed eyes, but Viserys interrupted you.

“Boys,” he spoke, taking a step towards your children. They peeked their heads out from behind you to see the King. “What happened?”

“Aemond took Vhagar, and he was insulting Rhaena and Baela, so I told him to stop but he said he would not listen to a bastard.” Your eldest spoke, and as soon as he finished, clamor rang throughout the room.

“Quiet!” Viserys roared. The room slowly quieted as the King moved towards Aemond.

“Aemond, I want no lies.” He told the boy as he stood in front of him. Aemond looked up at the king with his remaining eye, and it was then that you got a good look at what had happened.

You inhaled sharply at the sight of Aemond’s wound. You knew then that whatever your sons had done to Aemond had been what he deserved.

“I called them bastards,” the boy confirmed, eye glancing over the King’s shoulder towards your family. “And then the older one hit me.”

“See?” Alicent cried, a hand landing on her younger son’s shoulder. “You daughter and her family have no respect! Her children attacked your son and took his eye over words–” she began again, but you would not have it.

“Quite serious words,” you muttered, which caused Alicent to turn on you.

“Enough to maim my son? He has lost his eye! Your children only lost their pride–”

You surged forward, a few feet separating you from the Queen now. All eyes watched the two of you. Harwin made no move to intervene. Instead, he stood protectively in front of your children, a hand going back to keep them from moving forward.

“Perhaps he should lose his other,” you seethed, watching her. “You have constantly belittled my husband and I. You look down upon us, you slander us, and now you turn on my children?” Your voice was shaking with anger, your fists clenched at your sides.

“Viserys,” Alicent called to her husband. “Do you hear this? This is a clear threat to the life of your child!”

“I am also his child!” You shouted, taking another step towards her. Alicent’s eyes widened. “You so badly wish to play the victim, and I tire of it. My family and I have tried to stay out of your way, and still you always find a way to accuse us of something.”

Alicent laughed in disbelief. “I, the victim? Your sons are whole– they are fine. My son will never heal!” She glared at you for a moment before speaking again. “I shall have one of their eyes, as payment.”

“You will not.” You spoke firmly. You heard movement behind you as Rhaenyra and Daemon moved to surround your children in a little huddle. “Should you even try to lay a hand on my sons, you will lose the hand.”

“Another threat,” Alicent huffed in disbelief. “Viserys–”

The King, who had been standing to the side unsure of what to say, moved to stand between the two of you cautiously. He was torn between the pair of you– Alicent was his Queen, but you were his second daughter.

“I will hear no more of this,” Viserys said, unable to pick a side. “All children will be dealt with by their parents, after sincere apologies have been made.”

Alicent was hysterical now as she shook her head. “This is not justice!” She shouted, eyes flitting around the room in search of support. “I will take their eyes myself!” She moved forward then, and without a second’s thought, you acted.

You reached forward, hand wrapping around the dagger strapped to your father’s waist. You unsheathed it and held it up as Alicent raised her hands to you. Chaos erupted, voices yelling in surprise and children screaming, but you couldn’t hear any of it.

The roar of the room dimmed as you stared into Alicent’s eyes, your hands shaking with force as you tried to push the dagger towards her.

“I will kill you before you touch them,” you whispered to her, eyes wide with adrenaline as her hands locked around your wrists and tried to push you away.

“You have become someone I do not recognize.” She told you, eyes sparkling with unshed tears.

“As have you. And now they will all know how you spin tales–”

“Enough!” Viserys shouted again, bringing you back to the present.

You shoved Alicent back then, dropping the dagger to the floor. She stumbled backwards as you stepped back, an arm wrapping around your shoulders. Harwin. You looked up at him and he gave you the smallest smile.

He had never seen you so fierce– so protective over the ones you loved. And he was proud to know that you would always stand up for your family, even against the Queen herself.

“This infighting must cease! We are Targaryens– I will have no more of this constant bickering!” Viserys was yelling, but you paid him no mind as Harwin steered you back to your children.

Rhaenyra and Daemon stepped aside as you pulled your boys into your sides, a hand on each of their shoulders, holding them tightly.

“Good job,” Rhaenyra whispered into your ear with the ghost of a grin. You nodded once in response.

People began filing out of the room, slowly but surely. With no more dramatics to keep them consumed, they began to feel the late hour. You refused to move as you watched them go, your hands clutched around your children. Harwin stood protectively in front of the three of you, watching the passersby like a hawk.

Rhaenyra and Daemon also stood by your side. Rhaenyra placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. Daemon said nothing, but the fact that he had remained spoke volumes. He was notorious for disappearing at the worst times.

You only moved when everyone else had left the room, including Alicent and her children. She had not even spared you a glance as she ushered her sons and daughter from the room.

With the room empty, Harwin relaxed his guard slightly. He turned to you and gave a small nod. “I believe we should get these boys back to bed.”

You nodded in reply, removing your hands from your children. Rhaenyra and Daemon bid you goodnight before they slipped from the chamber together.

Harwin placed a hand at the small of your back, gently guiding you to the door. Your children walked a pace in front of you, that way you could watch them at all times.

“You did well,” Harwin whispered to you, leaning down to brush his lips against your ear.

“I have certainly made us an enemy,” you deadpanned.

“They were already enemies,” Harwin assured you, his eyes flicking back to the boys. “Anyone who tries to harm them is an enemy.”

“I agree.” You told him.

You both fell silent for a moment as you gathered your thoughts. Although you had seemed brave standing up to the Queen in a room full of people– you were now terrified.

You had no clue what she would do or say about what had happened. She would certainly spin things so that you were the evil one. You wrung your hands in anxiety– not so much for yourself, but for your kids. Your husband. You would do anything for them.

“I think the boys should stay in our quarters tonight,” your voice was quiet as you spoke to your husband. Harwin nodded with no protests.

“Of course.”

The four of you made your way back to yours and Harwin’s quarters. The boys were ecstatic to sleep in such a big bed, and you couldn’t help but laugh as they went back to their childish ways. It was as if the events of the last hour hadn’t occurred.

When you finally got them to lay down, you could not sleep. You sat in a nearby lounge, your eyes trained on their sleeping figures. You feared what would happen if you looked away for even a second.

“My love,” Harwin spoke softly as to not rouse the children. He had been speaking to someone in the corridor– a trusted guard, perhaps. When he reentered the room he came straight to you, crouching down to your side. “You must get some rest. Tomorrow will be long.”

You shook your head. “I do not trust her. What if she has something wicked planned?”

“She would not dare,” Harwin assured you. “Not tonight.”

You did not respond. Harwin sighed heavily, one of his hands reaching for your own. You allowed his touch, his thumb rubbing soothing circles into your skin.

“I have a trusted watchman stationed at our door. No harm will come.”

You still did not move.

“I will stand watch,” he finally said. You knew he didn’t mind standing watch, but of course he would prefer to sleep– you didn’t blame him.

But you couldn’t shake your fears, and so you nodded.

“Thank you, my love,” you told him, turning your head to face him. He smiled, and you leaned forward to press your lips to his.

It was a short but sweet kiss, and exhaustion crept over you when you pulled away. Harwin helped you up from the lounge and guided you to the bed. You stifled a laugh as he rolled one of the boys over, making room for you.

“Sleep well,” he whispered, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead.

“I’ll make this up to you,” you told him. He grinned.

“I’m sure you will.”

You rolled your eyes, but you were thankful for his lightheartedness. He left to go sit on the lounge, and you closed your eyes, letting sleep finally take you.

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toms-cherry-trees · 1 year

Text

Peace || Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Summary: The realm needs your husband and your husband needs you

Word Count: 1328

Warnings: None

Author’s Note: SO! This is my very first time writing for Aemond or HOTD for that matter so please give me feedback and don't be so hard on me I am trying my best! Also I wanted to add more Valyrian but I just cannot deal with that language yet.

Darkness has long befallen the room, only illuminated now by the warm glow of the multiple candles scattered across the chamber. A calm stillness lingers in the air, the silence of the night cut only by the merry creaking of a fire in the hearth and the rustling of the pages of the book in your lap, fingers flicking back and forth the same page, for every time you turn you realise you have forgotten everything you just read: your hazy mind unable to retain the words. Your eyelids fight to fall close, an urge you battle most valiantly with the aid of cool water splashed on your face and firm taps of your fingers on your cheeks. You refuse to give in to sleep while your husband remains bound to his duties, manoeuvring through the schemes and subtleties of winning a war.

You are once more losing the battle against exhaustion when the chamber door opens with a soft click, heavy footsteps echoing through the room. The fact Aemond moves past you is the first obvious sign of his exhaustion; no matter the time or what you are doing, a kiss is the first item of his list as soon as he retreats for the night. But more often than not lately, his mind is too overworked for him to function, his body moving through muscle memory just enough to take him to bed, hoping to steal a few hours of untranquil sleep before the whims of duty pull him from your side at the crack of dawn.

Aemond sits near the window in your favourite armchair, the one perpetually surrounded by your basket with unfinished knitting, bits of thread and linen from endless embroiders, and stacks of books that never make it back to the shelf, being moved around endlessly on the false promise of finally finishing one read. He kicks off his boots, and that action alone drains whatever energy he has left. He leans back, elbow propped on the armrest and forehead pressed to his fingers; if left to his own, Aemond can easily fall asleep like that, ready to spring into action at any moment.

Your bare feet barely make a sound as you approach him, your half read book soon joining the pile of unfinished lectures. Soft fingertips stroke his cheek, his head instinctively coming to lean into your warm palm. You notice in the nervous twitching of his fingers against his thigh that his mind is still harried, weighed down by piling troubles and drawbacks as he oversees the troops moving back and forth across the land to secure his brother’s throne. A throne he once coveted and now he carries in all but name; but being King or Regent is a lot more than just sitting atop a pile of molten swords, and the weight can crush you down no matter how strong your shoulders are.

You hook your hand on the crook of his elbow, pulling Aemond to his feet. He complies without much protest, allowing you to guide him to sit before your vanity. Standing behind him, you slide your fingers down his tunic, undoing the hooks until it falls open, leaving him only in his shirt. Aemond scans your expression in the mirror, trying to figure out if you want to take this further, but you only gift him a tender smile and a kiss to the crown of his head; your desire for him may be ravenous, but you wouldn’t push him into anything while he barely has strength to hold himself upright.

You remove the eyepatch and leave it in the vanity, the soft candlelight casting a warm glow upon the sapphire which lies underneath. When tensions pile high, Aemond gets throbbing headaches behind the scar; you massage his temples in slow circles, earning a small sigh of approval as his head falls back to rest against your body. His eye flutters close, some of the tension of his jaw has loosened and his fingers now lay carefully laced above his abdomen, legs stretched before him propped on your footrest.

“Hard day I see” You do not ask, you only confirm the obvious. Every day is hard, but some days seem to truly make an effort to be unbearable. Aemond only hums in agreement, but you take no offence in his lack of reply; he spends every waking hour with others demanding things and placing their needs and expectations on him; within those four walls of your shared chamber is the only place where he can exist; not excel.

You know small chatter is not something he likes to engage in, but is a mechanism for him to decompress; let go of his frustrations by dwelling in the most mundane topics life has to offer. You grab a hair comb and some scented oils, your quiet voice filling his mind with the ups and downs of your day while you work the brush through his silvery tresses; you tell him of how you went to visit Helaena that day and read to her from one of her favourite books, hoping to coax a smile out of her. You speak of your son, Aerion, and how pleased the little child is every time you take him to see his hatchling, Suvion. You try to narrate to him the story you had been reading, but the plot had long abandoned your mind, so you improvise a more or less decent story on the spot.

“You are lying” His voice startles you, for you had been caught up in your narration and the gentle motion of brushing his hair “I know that book. Your tale has been quite entertaining, my dearest wife, but it is filled with lies and deception”

Even if you had not been looking, you would have been able to hear the smirk in his voice; the barely lighter than normal enunciation and the way the words roll off his lips are details reserved only for the amusement he expresses over your everyday antics. At moments like this he is not Aemond One Eye, nor Aemond the Kinslayer, nor the Prince Regent. He is only your husband.

“I happened to be very tired when I read the book” You defended yourself “The hour is quite late”

“You should have slept. If your body urges you to rest, you must heed the call” Nimble fingers capture the hand with the brush by the wrist, bringing your fingers close to kiss your knuckles lovingly.

“I will not lay to rest while you toil away with the Small Council and your family and every single thing going wrong at the moment. I will share your burdens however I can; I do not believe myself die over a few hours of missed sleep”

A ghost of a smile tugs on the corners of his sharp lips, his lilac eye fixated upon your face hovering above his, his head nestled comfortably in the warmth of your flesh. His index traces the line of your jaw, fingertip tickling under your chin like one does with a cat. Suddenly the fingers lay behind your neck, putting pressure down and urging you to meet him halfway for a kiss. There is a feverish desperation coming from him; not urges fueled by desire, but rather by the unspoken seeking of comfort, of tenderness. Of a caring touch to clench the deeply rooted apprehension that he is disappointing everyone around him. To remind himself that there is one soul who will not walk out on him even if the realm falls apart in his hands.

When the kiss breaks, your hands cup his cheeks, your forehead resting lightly upon his while you two dwell on the sparks still flying between you two. It does not matter how many moons have passed since the wedding, your belly flutters with every kiss as it did with the first.

“Ready for bed, my dear husband?”

“Ready, jorrāeliarza ābrazȳrys”

#aemond x you #aemond imagine #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen one shot #aemond one eye #aemond x reader #marsie writes #aemond stannies

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reaper2187 · 16 days

Text

Regina George x masc female reader

The halls of North Shore High were a battlefield, with you standing alone amidst a sea of pink and designer labels. Regina George, the undisputed queen bee, had cast her icy gaze upon you, her entourage of loyal followers swarming around her like a pack of hyenas. You wore cargo pants and a plain T-shirt, an outsider in their glittering, superficial world.

You had been tolerating Regina's cruel barbs for months, but today, something snapped within you. A surge of defiance coursed through your veins as you met her eyes. Her perfect façade faltered for a moment, replaced by a flicker of surprise.

'Oh, look who it is,' Regina purred, her voice dripping with venom. 'The tomboy has decided to show her face. Lost your way to the boys' locker room, darling?'

A cruel laughter erupted from her minions, but to your astonishment, you found yourself standing tall. You retorted, your voice steady. 'At least the boys there have some respect.'

Regina's eyes narrowed dangerously. 'Respect? From some pathetic loser girl?'

'From boys who are actually interested in getting to know me, not just using me as a fashion accessory,' you countered.

Regina's face twisted into a mask of rage. 'How dare you challenge me? You know your place, Y/N.'

But this time, you refused to back down. 'My place is not here, playing your games. I'm not interested in being anyone's puppet.'

A gasp rippled through the crowd. No one had ever spoken to Regina with such defiance. The queen bee's throne seemed to tremble beneath her.

'You're nothing but a pathetic wannabe,' she hissed. 'You'll never be like us.'

'I don't want to be like you,' you replied. 'You're shallow, cruel, and insecure. I have friends who actually care about me, and I'm proud to be myself.'

Regina's eyes flashed with fury as she realized she had lost control of the situation. Her entourage, sensing her weakness, began to back away.

'You can't hide behind your masculinity forever,' she spat. 'Everyone knows you're a fake.'

'I'm not hiding anything,' you said, meeting her gaze with unwavering determination. 'I'm who I am. And if you don't like it, you can just deal with it.'

Regina's entourage slowly dispersed, leaving her alone with you in the crowded hallway. For a moment, there was only silence. Then, Regina broke into a mocking laugh.

'You think you've won,' she said. 'But this is just the beginning. I'll make your life a living hell until you're begging to be my slave again.'

'I'm not afraid of you,' you replied. 'You can try all you want, but you'll never break me.'

With that, you turned on your heel and walked away, leaving Regina standing alone in the center of the hallway. For the first time in her reign, the mean girl felt something resembling doubt.

The next day, Regina tried her best to make good on her threat. She spread malicious rumors about you, isolated you from your friends, and even threatened to ruin your life. But this time, her tactics had lost their power. You had grown stronger and more resilient, and you were no longer willing to be her victim.

You stood up to her, fought back against her lies, and refused to let her break you. And slowly but surely, Regina's power began to crumble. Her followers abandoned her, one by one, until she was left with nothing but an empty shell of her former glory.

In the end, Regina George was forced to face the truth: that true power comes not from popularity or outward appearances, but from inner strength and the courage to stand up for what you believe in. And you, Y/N, had triumphed over her, not with petty gossip or cruel taunts, but with your unyielding determination and unwavering spirit.

#lesbian #wlw #wlw post #renee rapp #regina george x fem!reader #regina george x reader #mean girls #renee rapp x fem!reader #reneè rapp x reader #reneé rapp x reader #renee rapp x reader #reneé rapp #reneé rapp x fem!reader

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ceruleancattail · 1 year

Note

Yandere Malleus??? So many possibilities with the future king

Ok as someone who plays on the en server, I'm going to write for him based on what I know. JP Malleus can stay far far away from me. Let me level my boys in peace.

tw:yandere, Malleus being a gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss/hj

Yandere Malleus Draconia

The Crown Prince of Briar Valley. Seated on his throne of thorns, surveying the land that lies before him. His subjects, taking a knee before him. The back of their heads exposed to him, eyes kept down.

Out of respect? Out of fear?

He's not too sure.

No one tells the truth in his court. Everything's hidden behind a veil of lies, woven with flattery as smooth as silk. They wrap around his eyes, tightening slowly but steadily. Blinding Malleus from the schemes of the court.

He thought that Night Raven College would be different. Life as a student, interacting with others like equals, for once in his life. Unfortunately, his reputation precedes him. The students all duck around him, scuttling away like ants from a fire.

His dorm mates worship him like a god. Malleus' flanked by two guards at all times. Everywhere he goes, people are watching. Flinching when he approaches. They hold him at arms' length,treat him as someone untouchable.

Out of respect? Out of fear?

Again, he does not know. Does it matter? It's a peaceful life. No one bothers him.... no one ever approaches him, for that matter. Malleus tells himself that it's fine. He enjoys the solitude.

That is, until he met you. The prefect of Ramshackle. The student who belongs to nowhere. A fresh face from another world. A brand new page, unsoiled by the norms of Twisted Wonderland. Someone who doesn't know him as Malleus Draconia.

Your eyes met his. You didn't wince at the sight of him. Even going as far as to dub him as "Hornton", you weren't afraid in the slightest. Drawn like a moth to the flame, Malleus finds himself drifting towards you. He finds comfort, in your company.

Child of man, you've bewitched him, have you not? This burn in his chest is unbearable. Tongues of flame searing your image deep into his heart.

You're the only one for him.

Malleus takes it upon himself to keep you protected. You have no need for other influences. The wagging tongues of people may lead you astray. He knows better, having grown up with the dizzying politics of the royal court. You, however... are a mere child of man. He'll take it upon himself to protect you.

Slowly, but surely, you'll start to realise that your friends are a little.. distant. They ignore you in the halls, turning tail whenever they catch a glimpse of you. Even Magicam is silent, no one ever reaching out to you.

No one but Malleus. He seeks your company at odd hours of the night. He stands over your sleeping form, offering a hand to you. It hurts, does it not? He knows how you feel. Take a walk with him, Prefect. His company may not be much, but he'll take away your pain.

Hand in hand, he guides you through the school grounds. It's somehow ethereal, the way something so familiar could look so different bathed in silvery moonlight. With a flick of his wrist, flames of emerald burst into life, swirling around you two. They hang in the air like fireflies, twinkling mischievously at you.

It's nights like this which help make you feel alive again. For those brief moments, your loneliness is banished. All you can feel is the warmth of the flames, and Malleus' fingers intertwined with yours. That's all you need to feel, really.

He’ll keep you by his side.

Out of Respect? Out of Fear?

He doesn’t care which.

Now, Prefect dear. Take his hand, and let him show you a piece of his world.

It'll be all you'll ever know.

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aphroditesmoon · 8 months

Text

children of the empire

king!jacaerys valeryon x reader

summary: the tale of the king and the slave.

warnings: slave!reader, infidelity, hurt/comfort, angst, childbirth, grief, death, inspired by paul and chani from dune book series.

A/N: just jace and reader being wholly devoted to eachother

wc: 1.4k

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HE KNEW THE two of you were destined to be together from the moment he laid his eyes on you. After the coronation held for him as King, multiple houses that had changed the course of their loyalty at the last minute had begun to seek the now young King Jacaerys’ favor. And so began the parade of gifts from ornaments, jewels and women were presented. Exotic slaves from colonized lands were brought forth to the king. He had sat on the throne as if it was made just for him. The throne his mother had not been given the privilege to sit on for even a whole year.

By his side, was his once betrothed and now Queen Baela. Their union was celebrated the way their parents would have wanted, and the two tried their hardest to uphold all the traditions and rulings to make worth of the sacrifices and bloodshed in the name of Rhaenyra Targaryen.

In everyone’s eyes, the pair was unstoppable, a united front with grudging respect for the other. A pair not only blessed with deserving power, but also with love.

But no one knew what really lied behind closed doors. The King Jacaerys and Queen Baela Targaryen had not loved one another. They might’ve liked each other in a way, back then. But the war and deaths have changed them both forever. They could not find any semblance of romantic attraction or comfort in the other. They had mourned their families in such a similar way, yet somehow still jarringly different. To find intimacy with the other was to face unspoken grief.

Jacaerys had thought that the loveless marriage would be the end of him ever experiencing a pure, tender bond with anyone. But he had seen you in a line of tired looking, plain and pretty girls, and he had sworn he’d seen you in a dream before.

If his mother was alive, she would be cursing him off his head. In fact, sometimes he hears her too. Yelling, and calling him a failure of a son, as he’s holding your thighs open, plunging himself deeper inside of you. An affair had by kings wasn’t uncommon, but he wondered how many of them were of love and not lust. He knew he would love you like his mother loved his father. But no matter how much of him is his mother’s son, he would not let you suffer the same end as his father.

He learned quickly that you weren’t as docile as you looked. Ask the wrong question and you’ll snap back. And yet, you were also not as hostile as you make yourself to be. You scold him like no one dares to do to the King, and you call him names on days he’s being particularly irritating, receiving a rising reaction from his shocked and baffled advisor and guards. But he knew that you were harmless. And you knew that a man like him can take a few jabs. And as much as the insults keep on coming, you advise him like no one does either.

You run your fingers through his hair like you’d give up everything you have to be able to touch him. And he looks up to your standing figure through his mussed-up hair as he kneels down with his arms circling your waist, like no one could ever look to even the greatest of kings.

“You will carry my children.” He had once told you.

The late-night silence where only the wind was able to speak louder than either of you, making anything he was saying sound possible. “Your queen will hold a knife to my throat.” You responded, feeling him pull you closer to his chest as he rests his chin on top of your head. “I would not let any other woman be the mother to my children except you.”

You let out a hoarse laugh that sounded almost too cynical to his liking. “I am not your woman, even if I am your property. Any child you have with me is a child destined for a life of suffering.” Had he not been so tired, he would have presented a stronger case after seeing you argue with much more fire even in such an hour. But instead, he only shook his head hard enough for you to feel his disagreement. “You are not my property.” You hummed with your ear to his heart. “I would be yours if you’ll have me, and I’d let you rob me naked if that be your heart’s desire.” You let out a scoff you always do when you’re finding him ridiculous and drunk. Only soft kings dare to dream, a reminder you bring up constantly to him. All because you knew what usually happens to those kinds of rulers, and even if you wouldn’t say it out loud, you cared for him too much to see him resigned to such a fate.

Three months later, you were with child. Brimmed with joy, Jacaerys had vowed to legalize the babe as soon as it comes out. And even with his queen’s relentless challenging to his title and responsibility, he refuses to send you away. He asks her forgiveness for the disrespect the child’s birth would be to her, but his mind was set.

An illegitimate royal child was not unheard of, and Jacaerys’ fortunate case of being a man helps lessen the cacophony of riots and disagreement within the council. But when it had been confirmed that the child would be legalized and appointed as his heir. How can a scion of the Targaryen family be a bastard made by bastards.

And yet with every voice raised against him, his assurance only becomes stronger. Every drink you take and every meal you eat will be tested first for poison. And every move you make would be supervised and followed by personal guards that were starting to make you regret being with him. 6 months into the pregnancy, you had relented into staying in your chambers, his overprotectiveness had become more obvious. Not even the Queen was granted to visit you, in fear of bad intentions.

His actions had hurt Baela, for she expected him to know better what kind of person she is in terms of morality.

When your water finally broke, he was 20 minutes late. When a guard had run to him in the throne room to announce the birth, he didn’t need to be told twice to get himself off the iron throne, running to you as fast as he could. You had given birth to a set of twins. A girl, and a boy. He had made it to you in the last few seconds before you let out your final breath. You had whispered his name as he squeezes your hand in a fist while apologizing profusely. “I couldn’t have belonged to anyone else, even if I wanted to.” He had cried by your side. You responded with a confession you’ve never uttered aloud, though both of you already knew what it was. You had breathed out so quietly, words only meant for his ears, “I love you.” The lights in his eyes died out the second you were announced deceased.

He sat by your cold body for hours before he could be convinced to let his grip on your dead arms off. He held both of his babes for the first and last time in his arms that day before spending the next 2 days locked and isolated in his chambers. Rhaenyra and Lucerys Targaryen. A storm brewed in the sky of Kings Landing. Wild winds and lightning as devastating as his own heart. The people stayed inside as the weather rips off wooden houses and floods the streets in every corner that is

Baela had tried speaking to him, as gentle as she could, reminding him of his children. But he was non-verbal. And so, she gave up.

On the third day, Rhaena Targaryen had rushed to her Queen sister, screaming in pure terror as she held up a folded and opened envelope of a letter. The doors to the King’s chambers were slammed open, only to find the place empty. The King hadleft. He had exited the castle to the storms.

And in his letter contained his want for his wife to rule in his stead until his daughter Rhaenyra reaches the age of 10 and 8, old enough to be wed to her brother, and then after, she’d take her rightful place as Queen.

A legitimate claim to the throne.

The only other thing written besides his will, was a sentence among the lines, ‘Only a soft king dares to dream. And I am as weak and soft as it can be.’

#jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon #house of the dragon #jace velaryon x reader #hotd x reader #jace targaryen x reader #house of the dragon x reader #game of thrones #hotd #jacaerys targaryen

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roguelov · 2 years

Text

Only in Dreams

Summary: Married to Dream of the Endless, for centuries, you never expected to feel neglected. Yet even after his return, his attention turned to the Dreaming and ensuring its stability and future. While, your own needs and wants pulled at you. And soon your dreams were slowly filled with pleasure. Just not exactly from Morpheus.

Word Count: ~4k

Reader: Afab

Warning: smut (unprotected sex, oral receiving (afab), switch!reader, switch!dream, dirty talk, fingering), bits of angst, and some fluff

Tags: @lizajane2, @layla2-49

MINOR DNI/ 18+ ONLY

Soft light filtered through the tall windows. Specs of dust glowed in the light, casting a dreamlike hazy in the air. The royal library was a spectacular sight. Endless floors, and winding mazes of shelves, continued to grow and grow.

Comforting, and welcoming.

Yet, a squeaky cart echoed, disrupting the peace. Or it would if anyone else were here enjoying the thousands and thousands of books.

It was you, and you alone. You wheeled around the infernal cart, shelving new books added to the Dreaming. While, Lucienne was off collecting a new census, and as you suspected, a reason to step outside the library’s walls.

But, company soon appeared.

“And what are you doing?” A presence loomed behind you.

Smiling to yourself, you barely turned your head in acknowledgement. “Shelving books.”

Morpheus hummed. “Care to have some company?”

“I would love some,” you smiled. You continued to move down the bookshelf with Morpheus trailing along like your shadow. “So, what have you been up to, my king?”

Morpheus moved to the side of you. “Usual business.”

“How vague,” you teased a bit.

A smile twitched on his lips. “I do not wish to bore you with all the details on how to run a kingdom.”

You hummed, twisting to shelve another book. A mistake. Instantly, like a spring loaded viper, Morpheus pressed himself against your back. His hands curled around the shelves above, white knuckling it. Still facing ahead, you smirked to yourself, “Yes, my king?”

His hand fell from the wooden shelves, and circled around your waist. “Why do you address me as such? Call me by my name, sweetness.”

You leaned your head back and whispered in his ear. “Morpheus.”

A groan rumbled in his throat.

Your heart skipped. It was such a beautiful noise. You laughed through your nose. “I think you have lied to me. I think you are the one in need of some company.”

“Is that a problem?” He buried his face into your neck.

“No.”

“Good.” He pressed a gentle kiss, almost desperate to refrain himself, in the crook of your neck. “Oh, how I have missed you.”

“Have you?”

“Yes,” he breathed into the shell of your ear, sending pleasant shivers down your spine. “You have tainted my thoughts all day, I could not focus at all.”

You spun around in his grasp. Books and shelves dug into your back. But, you didn’t mind. “Oh, have I? And what have you thought about?”

His lips skimmed over your neck. “Treacherous things.”

You bit your lip, and craned your neck. “Tell me.”

“Where do I start?” He nipped at your skin, eliciting a low hum from you. “One was you, your lovely bare body, laid out for me on our silk sheets. And you were squirming under my constant touch.” His hands travelled over your body. A hand snaked up, skimming over your breast and wrapped around your throat. He lifted his head, gauging your reaction. Your eyes were glassy with lust. A mimic of his own. He laughed through his nose. His hand trailed down and gripped your hips. “And you were making the most wondrous noises.”

You sighed, lost in his touch and spellbinding words. Your hands latched into his hair, needing him closer and needing to ground yourself.

He hummed as you carded your fingers through his hair. His thumbs rubbed teasing circles on your hips. All of it calculated, all of it to pull you in. It was so far, yet so close to where you truly needed him. “One was us on my throne with you on top. Your head was thrown back as you cried out in pleasure.”

You let out a shaky breath. Fuck. You rubbed your legs together wishing for some sort of relief.

“Another was here in the royal library,” he pressed his forehead to yours, “tucked away in a corner, like now. And we have to be, oh so, quiet but you, my love, could barely contain yourself.”

You tugged on his hair, making him moan quietly. You laughed, “I could not contain myself? Are you sure it wasn’t yourself you were mistaking?”

His eyes sparked with hunger, his lips curled into a devious smirk. “Shall we test this theory?”

You opened your eyes.

Black silk drapery. Not the captivating blue of a certain Endless. Soft cushioning hugged your back. Not sharp, somewhat uncomfortable, edges of books and wooden shelves.

It was a dream.

A idiotic dream.

You laid here in bed, and not in the royal library about to have a battle of wits and pleasure. Yet, you couldn’t shake off the dream. His voice still echoed through your head like a siren’s call. You rolled over. Empty. You reached over touching the spot where Morpheus would sleep.

Cold.

You sighed, frowning slightly. He must have left a while ago. It was sweet he did not wish to disturb you, but you wished he did.

You needed him.

In many ways right now.

However, you did not blame Morpheus. He had finally returned after so many years away. He had regained his tools, and had more power which he hadn’t had in ages. He was stronger, and wiser too. But, the years away, also brought paranoia. He didn’t want the Dreaming to fade as it did. Rebuilding it all from ruins was a long tiring journey, and now the Dreaming was thriving. Dreamers rejoiced. But, he still worried. He had busied himself with every detail, with every minor issue, to ensure an everlasting success.

And in doing so, he had started to neglect you.

His love.

Of course, in the first week of his return, he hardly left your side. He worshiped you like a fallen devotee begging for your forgiveness, he murmured his love on every square inch of your body, and he showed you again and again how years away had ruined him.

But, a kingdom needed their king.

His attention drifted back to the Dreaming, and ever so slowly he drew away from you.

You sighed, sitting up.

Your hands rested in your lap. You fiddled with the black band on your left hand. A simple band dipped in an inky onyx black, yet when you twisted it, it shone like far off galaxies: purples, blues, flecks of green, and twinkling stars. It resembled Morpheus, and his love, in every way.

You softly kissed the ring. “Morning, my sweet king.”

With a heavy heart, and a droop in your shoulders, you got out of bed and went off to find work.

Day after day.

Night after night.

The fissure between you and Morpheus grew. And so, those dreams became more and more frequent, and more intense.

And you couldn’t turn away from it.

Morpheus slid down your naked body. His eyes, once a delicate enchanting blue, now sharp and filled with a dangerous hunger. His lips dragged the curves of your body. Goosebumps chased after him. You wiggled, and hummed.

His lips skimmed further and further then -

He darted around where you so desperately wanted him. He peppered butterfly kisses across your inner thigh. Fleeting and soft, all of it left you wanting.

“Morpheus,” you whined.

He chuckled and nipped at your thigh. You gasped. “Patience, my love,” he whispered.

He moved to the other side, leaving a new trail of kisses, and marks, on your thigh. You bunched up the bedsheets. “Please, Morpheus.”

Off, in the outer edges of the Dreaming, a king heard his love call out his name. Morpheus, who was diligently working on new dreams and nightmares, spun around. He cocked his head. Did he truly hear you?

“Morpheus.”

His eyebrows knitted together. Why did you call him? Why now? Has something happened?

Curious, he stepped away from his soon to be creations. The bind that connected the two of you, tugged at his chest. Taking a single step, the dark sandy beach vanished like wisps of fog. It was all replaced with a bedroom: your shared bedroom.

And a sight was there to greet him.

You sprawled out on the bed, legs spread, as himself - a copy - buried his head between your thighs.

A dream. You dreamt all of this.

The fake gently blew on your needy core. His eyes flickered up. Your face was turned and buried into the pillow. Your lips parted. Your heavy breathing filled the silence, anticipating - begging - for his next move.

Morpheus stared stunned. His mouth agape.

The fake swiped over your folds with the flat of his tongue, then sucked on your clit. Your jaw dropped as your eyes shut in pleasure. The fake finally dove in. His expert tongue swirled and stroked all the right spots.

“Morpheus,” you moaned.

Your hands flew to his tousled hair, gripping it for dear life. Your back arched in pleasure. The fake hummed, sending your mind spinning. You squirmed. His firm hand pressed on your stomach forcing you down and still.

Morpheus, the real one, couldn’t look away.

Emotions clashed inside of him: anger, sorrow, jealousy, and also spikes of desire. Each one desperate to dominate him, yet he couldn’t grasp on one. He could only watch numbly as a poor copy of himself pleasured you.

You bucked your hip, trying to ride his face. The fake chuckled. The vibrations sent another wave of pleasure through you. You began chanting his name over and over like a broken prayer.

“Come, my sweetness,” the fake mumbled against you.

Morpheus left.

He didn’t wish to see anymore.

Now, he had something he must do.

The next morning, you still woke to an empty bed. The dream from the night before was muddled and hazy but a dull ache lingered in your heart. Yet, you continued on. You put your head down and got to work. Lucienne mentioned something the other day about needing assistance, so you went there.

Hours passed.

You never saw Morpheus. Unfortunately, as you predicted.

You and Lucienne chatted and laughed. Your own sorrows were forgotten for a fleeting moment. However, neither of you were aware of the shadow looming around you. A certain someone who still couldn’t comprehend what he saw last night.

He watched as you smiled and laughed as if nothing happened.

And in a way, nothing did.

Morpheus simply saw something he wasn’t supposed to. But, it continued to dig at him. Why? Why didn’t you come to him? Why did you act as if everything was fine? Why were you hiding this?

Later, he decided. He would address this later.

In the waning hours of the day, snuggled in a plush chair in your grand bedroom, you mindlessly flipped through a book. One, you weren’t truly reading. Your eyes scanned over the pages. Letters barely formed words. They skittered over the page and swirled tirelessly in your mind.

You huffed, setting your book down. You turned your attention to the flickering fireplace. Its heat warmed your cheeks, surrounding and filling you. As you stared at the whipping colors, your mind drifted to where it wished to go since the beginning.

Your dreams.

Your damned dreams that ran rampant.

You couldn’t free yourself from them. Morpheus now consumed your every thought, consumed your every needs. Physically and emotionally.

A door creaked open.

You peered behind you to see Morpheus. You smiled easily, your head resting back. “Hello, my sweet king.”

“Hello, my love.”

Not expecting any more of this conversation, you turned back to the fire. You suspected Morpheus to go to bed, weary from a day’s work. However, he surprised you. He sat down in the chair across from you. His coat wiped and flourished. His fingers threaded together resting them on his lap. His matching onyx band twinkled in the fire light. His eyes slid over to the flames.

The crackle of fire filled the pressing silence.

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye. His gaze was solely on the fire. His lips puckered in thought.

You may not have been physical in weeks, but it was daunting seeing how in recent days you hadn’t properly spoken to one another. It was awkward, and a little unnerving. It felt as if a stranger sat across from you.

“Are,” you began, getting Morpheus’s attention, “are you okay?”

Morpheus cocked his head in minor confusion. “Am I?”

“Yes, are you?”

“My sweetness, I am perfectly fine.”

You nodded.

“It is you who I worry about.”

Now, you were confused. “Me? Why?”

He sighed. The time has come. He got up and strolled over to you in three easy strides. Standing over you, he cupped your face. “Have I truly made you feel so abandoned?”

You scrunched up your face. “Abandoned? No, not -“

“My love, please, do not lie.”

“Morpheus, sweet Morpheus,” you hummed, smiling at him. Despite the obvious ache in your heart. “I don’t feel abandoned. I know of your duties and everything you must do.”

“But.”

You smiled softly. “I’m okay, I swear. You simply worry too much.”

The Dreaming is more important, you thought.

“Worry? Is it wrong to worry when I have forgotten the one I love?” He huffed. His thumb began to rub soothing circles on your cheek. “Yes, I do worry but, right now, I am more upset than anything.”

“Morpheus -“

“You needn’t lie for my pride. I already know the truth.”

You blinked.

He sighed, dropping his hand. “I have left you alone - needing - so you sought pleasure elsewhere.”

“What?” Your heart skipped. Fearful and slightly ashamed.

“You have used the Dreaming to create another me to fill your needs. I heard you calling out and to say I was surprised at the sight I saw is an understatement.”

Your cheeks warmed. You didn’t think he - “Morpheus, it’s fine. Honestly I don’t know why -“

“Tell me what you want.”

“Excuse me?”

He cupped your face with both hands, gently tilting your head back. He bent down. His lips brushed over yours, instantly drawing you in. “Tell me what you want, my love. Use me to fill your needs.”

“Morpheus -“

“Don’t,” he murmured against your lips. “A husband should care for the one they swore to love for eternity. And I have put my attention elsewhere. I’ve hurt you.”

Your hands slowly moved up bunching the front of his shirt. You haven’t had him - the real him - so close in a while. “You didn’t hurt me.”

It was the truth. You still loved him, always will.

He laughed once through his nose and smiled. “You are too good for me.”

Your hands wandered up further threading into the ends of his hair. You curled your fingers softly, nails scraping against the base of his head. He closed his eyes and hummed.

You bit back a knowing smirk. “It seems you have also neglected your needs, my sweet king.”

He chuckled. “I suppose I have.”

You finally pulled him in.

Your lips melded together. Like two puzzle pieces. Electricity ripples through your body. You tilted your head, deepening the kiss. He greedily followed your lead. You forcibly yanked on his hair. He moaned, opening his mouth. The perfect opportunity. Your tongue snuck in.

He groaned.

Your heart jumped. Oh, how you loved the noises he made. It drove you crazy. Each hum, each moan, seemed to go through you.

He smirked against you.

Although he may give himself over to you, he did enjoy teasing you. As your tongue swirled around, soon Morpheus quickly gained control. He knew exactly what to do and knew your own body better than yourself. In seconds, you were a puddle in his grasp.

You whimpered.

He gently guided you to your feet. His expert fingers trailed down your spine leaving sparks. Morpheus’s hands moved to your hips. You threw your arms over his shoulders bringing him impossibly close. You both clumsily stumbled around. Yet, your chest started to constrict. Your lungs burned. Air, you needed air. You broke the kiss and rested your forehead on his. Your chest heaved in chaotic unison.

Morpheus drawed your hips closer.

The simple friction was fire across your starved skin. You bit the inside of your cheek, humming.

“What do you want?” He whispered.

“You,” you breathed out.

You walked forward, pushing Morpheus backwards until he hit the edge of the bed. He flopped. His arms sprawled out to the sides, his coat draped behind him, his hair pointed in all directions, his cheeks flushed, his lips parted and swollen, and his eyes - oh his eyes - were soft in absolute adoration.

He smiled lovingly up at you. “Use me as you wish, my love.”

You didn’t need to be told twice.

You crawled up on top of him. You pulled him into another deepening kiss. He hummed, his hands flew up gripping your hips.

But, you ended the kiss quickly.

He groaned, disappointed.

You kissed the corner of his lips, down his face, over and up his jaw, then to his neck. He craned his neck back. You peppered kisses up and down his neck, and when you hit a certain spot, right at the crook, Morpheus’s hands tightened, possibly bruising your hips.

You smirked against his skin.

You nipped at him, starting to mark his perfect skin. He groaned, “(Y/N).”

It sent shivers down your spine, and directly to your core. His deep resonance, his pleas, it was dizzying.

Your hands snuck under his shirt tracing every taunt muscle. Your lips moved over his neck to the other side. He leaned, giving you easy access to nip, bite, and mark more of his skin. Your palm laid flat over his chest. His heart thrummed.

You leaned back.

He breathed heavily. His brilliant eyes darkened.

You grabbed the front of his shirt, yanking him up. Your lips smashed together, hot and heavy. And now, he decided to return the favor. His lips ghosted over your neck. Such a simple touch made your head fall back as you groaned.

He smirked.

Needing more, you grinded down.

Morpheus moaned, dropping his head on your shoulder. “Do that again, my love, and I won’t be able to control myself,” he mumbled.

You smirked, grinding down again. He chuckled darkly. He pulled back looking at you in the eye. His index finger and thumb wrapped around your chin, bringing you closer. “Is that what you want?”

Your pleasure meant the world to him. He wanted it to be about you.

“Yes,” you murmured.

“As you wish, my sweetness.”

You feverishly tore off each other’s clothes. Each layer fluttered to the bedroom floor, piles upon piles. Morpheus laid you gently on your back on the dark sheets. He hovered over you. He bent down kissing you softly. You hummed, knotting your fingers in his already messy hair. He pulled away, licking his lips.

Biting back a smile, you slowly pushed him downward. He smirked, taking your not so subtle hint. His lips trailed down your body.

His talented mouth kissed down the valley between your breasts then over to one. Slowly, taking one his mouth, he swirled his tongue over your perked nipple. You sighed, tightening your grip in his hair. His hand kneaded your other neglected breast. Working you, sending you into pleasure. He pinched your nipple.

“Morpheus.”

He popped out your breast and switched, working on the other one. You arched your back, moaning. He knew exactly what to do. He knew how to rile you up in the most delicious taintilizing ways. All of it, leaving you needing and begging for more.

His eyes flickered up. Your eyes were closed, as you fell apart to his touch. Smiling against your skin, he moved farther down, kissing and nipping at your skin. He nipped at your hips, then down your inner thigh.

You squirmed.

You were dripping, desperate for any friction, for some sort of relief. One finger dragged between your folds collecting your wetness. “Morpheus, please,” you begged.

“Patience, my love.”

One finger slid in, soft simple strokes. He was teasing you. Not offering you enough. You bucked your hips begging for more, desperately trying to ride his one finger.

Then he dove in.

His tongue swirled around your clit. You sighed in pleasure, and tugged on his hair. Another finger slid in. He pumped you, a soft rhythm, gently stroking your walls.

He curled his fingers, beckoning you.

You gasped. Your eyes flew open, and peered down at him. His dark eyes met yours. Buried between your thighs, he stared unwavering up at you. Heat spread throughout you. He curled his fingers again.

You moaned, your head falling back.

Each stroke brought you closer and closer and -

He stopped.

He removed his fingers and pulled away completely leaving you feeling utterly empty. You whined. Looking down at him, he put his two fingers, covered in your juices, in his mouth. He moaned at your taste. His tongue swirled around his fingers leaving you wishing it was you.

You bit your lip, whimpering.

He chuckled. “Do not worry, my sweetness. I’ll help.”

Crawling over top of you, he paused. He stared lovingly down at you. You smiled reaching up, cupping his face. He turned his head kissing your palm and down your inner wrist. He brought your hands over your head. Your fingers intertwined together. Your band and his clacked together.

He lined himself up.

He bent down kissing you.

Without warning, he slid in.

You moaned against his mouth, and he eagerly swallowed the noise. Breaking the kiss, he rested his forehead against yours. His dazzling blue eyes bore down at you. You smiled softly at him.

He rocked his hips.

Your face twisted in pleasure.

Slow and steady pace. Each movement filled and stretched you, each movement a show of his undying affection, each movement an apology for leaving you.

“Morpheus,” you whined.

“I know, bear with me, my love.” He dropped his head onto your shoulder. He kissed your skin as he gently rocked his hips. “You are truly too good for me.”

You tightened your hands in his. “I love you, Morpheus. Nothing will change that.”

“And I love you.”

He bucked his hips at a different angle. You moaned, arching your back. “Morpheus, please, faster.”

He smiled, and teasingly said. “If that is what you want.”

“Yes, more than anything.” You mewled.

He snapped his hips.

A new relentless pace. A string of curses left your lips. You instantly wrapped your legs around his hips. Pressure build and build. Your walls hugged his cock wonderfully, as he hit all the right spots. Like before, he knew your body well.

His heavy breathing fanned across your already hot skin.

He slipped one hand free from your grasp. Tracing down between your molded bodies, his finger circled around your clit. “Fuck,” you hissed, squeezing your eyes shut.

“Ah, look at me, my love.”

You cracked open your eyes to see the endless blue. He expertly swirled his finger again. Your mouth fell open.

“You are divine,” he whispered. Your wall fluttered around him, warning him. He groaned. He knew you were about to reach your end, and soon so was he. “Come for me.”

You whined.

“Come for your dear husband.”

His words fueled the already burning fire.

You cried out his name as you clamped down around him.

He smiled to himself.

He continued to work you through your orgasm sending you higher than before. Until, you were completely filled with ecstasy. You writhed beneath him, repeating only his name. Your mind clouded in only absolute pleasure.

Morpheus soon followed after. Your name tumbled off his lips in a low groan. He hovered over you, breathless. You smiled lazily, brushing his hair out of his flushed face.

He smiled down at you.

He fell down into the sheets. You instantly crawled over to him laying your head on his chest. Your ear pressed to his heart listening to its erratic beat as it began to slow down. His arms wrapped around you, unwilling to let you go. Not ever again. His finger drew lazy shapes on your still hot skin.

“If you need anything, do tell me,” he said, breaking the silence.

“Of course,” you whispered against his skin.

His index finger titled your chin back. His eyes connected with yours, and he smiled softly. “Please,” he repeated, “do not think your needs are less than. You are more important in every way.”

You matched his smile. “Do not say that or I’ll have you trapped in here.”

He laughed once. “Please do from time to time.”

You laughed.

He bent his head pressing a loving kiss to your lips. You sighed, closing your eyes. Slowly, he pulled away and whispered. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

#the sandman #Morpheus #dream of the endless #morpheus smut #dream x reader #morpheus x reader #morpheus imagines #dream imagine #the sandman imagine #smut #afab!reader

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wandaslittlelove · 2 months

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Destined Part 2

Warnings: Kidnapping, mentions of killing I know this part is really bad but I promise the next one will be better

Series Masterlist

Kamar taj is not like anything I had expected it to be. It was a fortress with many young sorcerers training or that's what they were supposed to be doing. Instead they all stood still, waiting for the fight that was bound to happen.

I stood downstairs with America as the roof above us shook violently signifying the fight that was happening upstairs.

“We have to get you out of here.” Strange spoke as he entered the room. Wong explained to us that Kamar taj had fallen and I took a deep breath. I knew Wanda was capable of a lot of things but killing a bunch of innocent people like this? This was madness.

Suddenly the doors began to slam shut and people disappeared into puddles.

We had to quickly cover all reflectable surfaces but America was too slow and suddenly Wanda appeared in front of us. Wanda made eye contact with me before she went on to explain how her multiverse self had children in every other universe. How those children weren’t just hers but mine.

“None of that is real Wanda.” I spoke, stepping forwards ignoring America pulling my arm back. “At least not in this universe. You choose your life. You choose to cheat on me with vision. To create a life and children with him. Not me.” Wanda took a step towards me and softly caressed my face with her hand before gripping my jaw tightly. I heard a gasp from behind me and could feel the way Strange prepared himself to step in.

“You do not get to speak to me that way, little one. Even if you may not think so, you are still mine. Once I get America's powers I am going to get our children and we will be a perfect family. Now step out of my way.” She releases the grip on my jaw and I step back towards Strange and America.

“I'm sorry Wanda but I will not let you kill a kid or tear apart a happy family.” With my words Stange sends a creature towards Wanda but she is quick to fight them off and send Strange flying into a wall. She lifts America into the air and I am quick to send a white burst of energy flying towards her but she only dogages it glaring at me.

“Stay back” She growls as she uses her magic to cuff my arms behind my back.

I watch in horror as Wanda uses her magic to suck the energy out of America.

“STOP STOP. WANDA STOP!” I shout and her attention turns back to me. “Don’t hurt her!” I scream again. Suddenly everything seems to go in slow motion as I watch Strange jump towards America knocking her back into the portal she had created. I hear Wanda scream angrily as it closes right behind them and then I feel the pain in my head as she grips my hair tightly dragging me outside.

I say nothing as tears fall down my face from both the pain and the destruction around me. And nothing as suddenly my vision goes black.

When I wake up I look around confused as I notice my surroundings. Looking around I notice I'm in a bedroom. There are curtains half open on the windows and the door leading out of the room is cracked open. Slowly I sit up and begin to make my way towards the door. My eyes widen as I look down the hallway and see Wanda step out of a portal and into the living room.

When she sees me she smiles and beckons me over.

“I'm glad you're finally awake Bunny. Come have a seat.” When I refuse to come towards her she frowns and flicks her wrist sending me flying towards her. Out of fear I attempt to send an energy blast at her but panic when I realize I can’t.

“What did you do to me!” I yell as I struggle against her magic.

“Just a little spell to keep you in line. Your powers do not work anymore. Thanks to the dark hold our powers are no longer balanced.” She speaks as if it's the most simple thing in the world.

“America did you..?” I ask, remembering the portal she had just created.

“No. Her and Strange got away. The portal was to my throne.” she takes a look at my confused face before giggling. “You're such a naive little bunny. At first my goal was to gain America's powers so that I could steal the life of my counterpart but once she got away I figured why do that when I can just have my own. Even if I have to make you give me what I want.”

Tag list: @alexawynters @username23345 @casquinhaa @idontknow-llol @delulu-bayolet-era @dorabledewdroop @bananasplits-world

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oswildin · 2 months

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He Needs You (Loki x GN!Reader) - SHORT

Summary: Loki knows what he must do. But before he does… He has to make sure you aren’t alone. The person who changed everything.

A/N: Set during ‘Loki’ S2 EP6, inspired by ‘Journey’s End’ from Doctor Who.

Loki took a breath, stepping through the time door with you beside him. He’d lied. Of course, he did. But at least this time, it was for a good reason. Something other than self-preservation. No, this was for you. For the person who had changed… Well…

Everything.

Your brows furrowed as you stepped out onto the other side of the time door, no longer in the TVA, and not where you expected to be either. Loki had told you that you both needed to go somewhere, somewhere that could help you all prevent the meltdown of the Loom. But where you stood… Didn’t seem likely for such help. It was a gilded hallway, somewhere that looked rich, royal even.

“Where are we?” You asked, turning to glance up at him, noticing his almost solemn expression. His own blue eyes were taking everything in, a place he knew he would never see again. With a slight wave his of hand, both of you became invisible to the naked eye, shrouded in shadow, hidden away from any passers by. Loki didn’t say anything, gaze drifting to you for a moment before he finally spoke.

“This way.” He said lowly, taking a few steps forwards, leading the way through the grandiose hallway. You blink, glancing around before following after him, your footsteps echoing off the walls quietly as you did so. What was going on? Where were you?

“Loki, where are we?” You repeated your question, the sound of his name almost intimate on your tongue. Loki let out a quiet breath, hands clasped at his sides as the fabric of his peacoat faintly made sound as he walked. Still, he was silent. That worried you. Loki was never quiet. “You’re starting to worry me.” You murmured, seeing the look of resolution, regret and sadness on his face.

“Don’t be.” Loki murmured in return, sparing you a glance, his voice soft as he tried to reassure you. Or himself, he wasn’t entirely sure. You reserved the urge to quip something sarcastic in response, the God slowing his steps as you reached a slightly ajar large golden door. It was then that you began to put the pieces together of where you were.

“Asgard.” You breathed out, brows creasing in confusion. Loki stilled, his eyes flicking to the floor. “We’re on Asgard, aren’t we?” Silence. “Why?” Loki didn’t say anything, simply lifting a hand, gesturing towards the ajar door, silently telling you to take a look. Raising a brow, you stepped forwards, peaking through the crack. What you saw, made your heart race, confusion wash over you…

There stood Loki.

His profile facing you as he stood with his hands clasped behind his back, an almost… troubled look on his face. His hair was longer, brushing just past his shoulders, features sharper than the Loki beside you. He looked… weary.

“I don’t- I don’t understand.” You whispered, shaking your head, turning to look up at your Loki. He met your gaze, lips slightly downturned, eyes glassy. Your lips parted as you tried to search for an answer in the silence. “What is this?”

“That’s me.” Loki confirmed with a small nod, his voice low. “What would’ve been me…” He began to explain softly. “The life I would’ve lived on what was the Sacred Timeline.” He paused, eyes searching yours. He took a slow breath, hands moving in front of him slowly. “He… is lost.” His words were barely above a whisper. “Realising that… Power, control… a throne…” He sighed. “Are not enough to fill the hollowness in his heart.” He looked towards the gap in the door, seeing his would’ve been future-self pacing.

“But… why… why are we here? I don’t understand.” You stuttered out, feeling your heartbeat quicken as if you knew. You didn’t, but your heart reacted as if you did. Loki closed his eyes, hands falling back to his sides lamely, jaw tensing briefly as he tried to keep his composure.

“I know… what I have to do.” Loki said lowly, determined. “And that means…” He met your gaze again, his brows furrowing in sorrow. “That I won’t be around anymore.” His words hit you like a blow to the chest, panic setting in. He could see it in your face, the fear, his hands moving to your shoulders to ground you. “I have to… make something better.” His voice stayed soft, even as his eyes glistened.

“Please.” You whispered, emotion clear as day. It broke Loki’s heart, something that had happened only a handful of times in his long life. One of Loki’s hands moved from your shoulder to the side of your face, cupping your cheek as you leaned into his touch, closing your eyes, savouring the sensation.

“I’m giving you a chance.” Loki spoke, fighting to stop his voice from failing him. He took a sharp breath, or a sniffle, he wasn’t quite sure. Your eyes opened, brows furrowing. “A chance of a life… that we… We aren’t so lucky to have.” He gave a tearful, solemn smile, it was tiny, not quite reaching his eyes. “With him.”

Your mind raced at his words, lips parting, the furrow in your brow increasing. Your gaze flickered around, a physical show of your mind as Loki’s thumb brushed your cheekbone lightly.

“He’s… known war, loss, betrayal…” Loki continued, ducking his head slightly to meet your eyes. “He’s further along in his timeline, he’s still searching for his ‘glorious’ purpose-“

“He doesn’t know me.” You interrupted, blinking, the words hurting to say. Loki gave an understanding look, nodding faintly.

“Not yet.” He told you softly. “But he should.”

“But he’s not you.” A tear finally escaped your eye, you hadn’t even realised they had been forming, too wrapped up in what was happening. Loki let out a shaky breath, his own heart aching alongside yours. He took a step closer, holding your gaze. He leaned closer, his lips pressing against your forehead tenderly, his own eyes closing, savouring the feeling. He lingered, feeling a trickle of wet escape his own eye, slowly descending his cheek.

“He needs you.” Loki whispered against your skin, before pulling back slightly to meet your eyes again. “And that’s very me.” He gave the faintest of smiles, melancholy… bittersweet.

#loki x reader #loki laufeyson x reader #loki #loki laufeyson #loki imagine #loki fanfic #loki marvel #marvel x reader #mcu x reader #loki x you

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thelov3lybookworm · 9 months

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Can I request some/any type of angst with rhys x yn. 🥲

Remember me?

Summary: Under the Mountain, Y/n met the High Lord of the Night Court, Rhysand. She was scared of him, but soon she found out that he wasn't who he pretended to be. Despite her efforts at not falling in love with him, she fails. It's not that bad as he loves her back.

But now he's gone, and she's left alone with nothing.

Except for a very adorable reminder of him.

•○●⛦●○•

Tw: secret pregnancy, none more that I can think of, so let me know if I need to add anything.

A/n: okay, so I know anon asked for angst, but I don't think there's much angst in this, but I'm planning on writing part two, and I'll try to make it more angsty, so bear with me please.

Edit: this series has turned into an Eris x reader fic, so know what you're going to be reading if you decide to continue on reading. If Eris is not someone you like, please dont read this fic

•○🌑○•

She ran, glancing behind her to see if the creepy male was still following her. He was, even though he was far behind.

This wasn't working. She had to find another way to get rid of him.

She had been sitting in a corner of the throne room, trying to not catch anyone attention when the male had shown up. He had started up a conversation, his hands slowly inching towards her rear. Even though she had told him she was uncomfortable and made it clear she did not want anything to do with him. He had gotten angry, as all makes did when denied something, especially something they felt entitled to. He'd tried to force her to a dark alcove nearby, but she had fled.

Now here she was.

She turned around the corner, glancing behind her again. And smacked straight into something hard.

As she reared back to look at what–who– it was, all the blood drained from her face.

The Queen's Whore.

Night Court's High Lord works too, she thought to herself.

He smirked at her, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Going somewhere? Maybe I could accompany you?" Y/n shook her head, petrified. She had seen what he could do, and she had no intention to get his attention on her. "What a shame, I would have loved to spend some time with such a beauty."

Despite being scared out of her wits, she blushed. But then she remembered why she was running in the first place. But it was too late now.

A hand clamped down on her wrist, so tight her hand started to go numb. She turned to the male, trying to tug her hand out of his hold to no avail. She stared at his hand helplessly, knowing nothing could save her now. Screaming would only incense him further, and the High Lord at her back was more likely to laugh at her than help her out.

"Do you know him darling?"

Her head whipped around to the High Lord, but before she could answer, the male still holding her hand wrapped an arm around her and stepped back. "We've been talking all night, my Lord. We know each other."

The High Lord raised a brow. "Did I ask you?" Then, turning to her, he asked. "Is he telling the truth?"

Y/n wanted to deny it, but he was speaking the truth. And she had seen the High Lord kill people for the smallest lies. Not wanting to offend him by lying, she nodded, her eyes pleading.

And she didn't know if he saw the pleading in her eyes, or he was just curious, but he asked, "Do you want to go with him?" She shook her head frantically, hope flaring in her chest.

But then the High Lord shrugged and turned away. She was so shocked that she didn't pay attention to the male who was still holding her as he started struggling against invisible forces, only looking at him when crumpled to the ground.

Stunned, she turned back towards the High Lord, who smirked at her.

"I don't think I caught your name. What was it again?"

"Y/n..."

"Y/n." He muttered, as if testing out the syllables of her name. He hummed. "I like it." He leaned against the nearest wall, as if getting comfortable. "So, miss Y/n, what do you do when you are not being chased around by males?"

"Nothing... my job is to sit and look pretty so my father can marry me off to the highest bidder when he deems fit." She slapped a hand over her mouth as soon as the words were out. She hadn't meant to say that. The High Lord wasn't to be trusted, especially because he could just run back to his mistress and blabber all about what he'd seen today.

A slow smile spread on his as he studied her. "I like you."

A few months later, he would be whispering I love you in her ear.

But that isn't the point here.

The point is that he would forget those words and the female he had said them to when a mortal would free them from their prison.

The point is that he would leave the female he had loved so fiercely.

The point is that he would leave her to fend for herself in a dangerous world.

The darn point here is that he would leave her with a life growing in her.

And he wouldn't know about it until it was too late.

•○🌑○•

She was dreaming. Again. Of him.

It wasn't a nightmare, but that would have been preferable to the happy dream that she was having, where he hadn't left her to her father's mercy. Where he was present in their life. Her and her son's. Their son's. But when she had dreams as these, she was filled with a sense of longing and sadness, hatred and fury.

But thank the cauldron, she was woken up. By a little body jumping around on the bed. She smiled sleepily, eyes still closed. She grasped around blindly in search of the little devil, who shrieked and evaded her. She pulled back her hands, lying still as her son came to plop down on her chest. She knew he was going to do that, but still she grunted when his weight settled over her.

"Mama! Wake up." He whined. Y/n opened her eyes to look into the beautiful violet orbs of Finnian. He grinned at her, sitting up. "Mama, you said we'll go to a drawing class."

"That I did, my little joy. But before that, would you help Mama with breakfast?"

He nodded enthusiastically, already jumping off the bed and running out the doors. Y/n yelled after him to be careful, getting up before stretching and making her way downstairs.

As she set about making some pancakes for the two of them, Fin blabbered about anything he could think of. As he started eating, Y/n's mind wandered to a few days ago, when she had arrived in this city. The City of Starlight, they called it. And she could see why.

She was originally from Dawn Court, but after they had been freed from Amarantha's reign, she had fled from her father's home, making a life for herself in Day Court. A few weeks ago, she had seen her father waking in one of the markets that she visited frequently, and she had never been more scared. For her life, sure, but more so for her sons life. If her father realised of Fin's existence, he wouldn't stop until he got rid of the little boy.

So Y/n had sought out a man who promised her that he could smuggle the two of them to a place that not many knew about. Frantic in her instincts to save her child, she didn't ask where this secret place was.

She didn't regret her decision, but now she was always on alert, always looking over her shoulder to see if her former lover was somehow following her. And then again, what were the odds of her crossing paths with him in such a big city?

Extremely high. A voice inside her screamed, but she ignored it.

After the breakfast, Fin again started talking about the painting classes that he was going to today. A neighbor had told Y/n about these classes and that her kids loved to go and that she should let Fin attend them too.

And since Fin had learned of it, that's all he had been talking about.

•○🌑○•

Fin ran through the large doors with Sam, his new friend who was the son of their neighbour, leaving Y/n yelling at them to slow down. Despite that, the two boys didn't listen and then Fin ran into a male who was standing inside the room where the classes were going to take place.

"Oh mother, are you okay?" Y/n rushed to help Fin stand back up, crouching in front of him and checking him for any injuries.

"I'm okay mama."

Y/n nodded, standing and turning to the male to apologise. As her eyes met ones identical to her son's, she froze. Those eyes she had loved, ones she adored always, were wide with shock and staring straight at her.

Neither of them said anything. It seemed like they didn't breathe as well.

The male she had spent years searching, the male she had waited everyday for, the male she had grown to resent day by day when he didn't show up, the one she had been trying her best to hide away from, was now standing in front of her, his lips parted and an anguished look in his eyes.

She was numb, her mind not working, but atleast she had the sense to push Fin behind her.

Which wasn't the best move, considering the High Lord's eyes went straight to the little boy peeking from behind Y/n's skirts.

A broken breath escaped him, his eyes starting to water as he looked back at Y/n.

She took a step back, turning away. Her eyes fell on another familiar face, whose eyes constantly jumped from Y/n to him.

Feyre.

Sam tugged on Feyre's hand, pulling her to stand right next to the High Lord. As she did, her scent reached Y/n. And it was mixed with his. And her heart broke once more.

The high lord had left her for Feyre?

"Auntie Y/n, this is our teacher."

The females offered each other tentative smiles. "I didn't realise our cursebreaker would be teaching kids to paint."

"But here we are." Feyre said, confusion still lacing her features. But then her eyes fell on the boy behind Y/n, her brows furrowing. Her features smoothed out with understanding as her eyes met Y/n's again. "I believe he is here to join us?"

"Yes. A neighbor told us about this. He's been impatient to finally to make friends. Isn't that right baby?"

"Yes mama!"

She smiled, despite her heart and mind screaming at her to take Fin away in case his father tried to take him away from her.

She told herself she wouldnt stop him from being here though, especially as she knew how excited her son had been for this. And she won't keep him away from making friends, as she had been when she was his age.

She would maybe start looking for somewhere else to settle. But for today, she would let him enjoy.

She crouched to his height, kissing his chubby cheeks and forehead, to which he giggled. "You remember what mama has told you about talking with strangers?"

"Yes. Okay bye mama. I wanna go with Sam."

"Bye darling." She whispered, knowing he couldn't have possibly heard it as he sprinted away. She stared after him for a moment, he motherly instincts telling her to go get her child. She stood, prepared to leave, but then turned to the High Lord who still stared at her helplessly.

"Stay away from him." A pause. "My lord."

"Y/n..." His voice broke. "Please."

"Please what?"

"Don't kick me out of his life. He deserves to have a father. He deserves to know–"

"He doesn't need a father. He's been well and happy without one. And even if he does need one, I'll get him one. But not one that would probably run away at the first chance."

Then she turned and left, hoping Rhysand wouldn't try to do something to her child.

•○🌑○•

Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess

Part 2

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