#((i think she would’ve wanted to give her daughter her mother’s name))
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quccninchains · 4 months ago
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i can’t help but think that if alyrie florent was still alive, none of this shit would’ve happened bc she woulda popped the shit out of otto for even suggesting alicent should marry viserys
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annwrites · 4 months ago
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⸻ sons & daughters. part one.
pairing: cregan stark x velaryonprincess!reader type: part of a series summary: when your queen-mother sends your twin brother, jace, to treat with cregan stark, you make a last-minute decision to accompany him north, so as to see the beautiful lands, and put distance between you and the brewing war with the greens; to have a moment of peace. cregan, growing tired of being harried at every turn by advisors to marry the head-strong alysanne blackwood, and receiving countless marriage proposals from numerous northern lords for their daughters, desperately seeks an end to such matters. and then he meets you. word count: 2,241 a/n: this series & its title is inspired by the song of the same name.
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He is struck speechless by the sight of you. 
You stare up at the cloudy sky above, as fluffy white snowflakes drift down, landing softly in your long auburn curls, which tumble about your shoulders and down your back in waves, as well as upon your comely face, your full pink lips. You blink with long lashes, lowering your chin as you turn to greet him—your brown eyes looking tenderly into his own of blue. 
Your twin brother he had been anticipating—had prepared for the arrival of. You, however, have now taken him completely by surprise. In every way.
He gathers himself then, standing tall—back straight—as he steps forward to greet your older brother by just two minutes, Jacaerys. 
You stand silently to the side as the lord bids him welcome to Winterfell—ensuring him that he is most pleased by his presence—and that they have much to discuss in due time, once he is properly settled. 
He then turns to you, and you give him a shy smile, suddenly unsure of yourself—always a familiar feeling to you when it comes to strangers. Your septa’s lessons had done little to ever shake you of such inhibitions. 
He bows his head, his eyes never leaving you. “My Princess,” he says quietly, calmly, in an entirely Northern accent; a sound fairly unfamiliar to your ears. 
“Lord Stark,” you address him in return. “Thank you for having us.”
He studies you for a moment. “You, Princess, I had not expected, I’m afraid. I will have the servants ready chambers for you at once, to your satisfaction.”
You blanch. Had…had the raven your mother sent not stated you were to accompany Jace? It had been a bit of a last-minute decision, per you, after all...
You’d just wanted so dearly to see the wondrous beauty of the North. So much so, that you’d practically had to beg your Queen mother to allow you to fly with him here. She’d been hesitant—always overly-protective of you, her only daughter in all the world—until she had finally relented. Even if you had believed it to be reluctantly. 
You had been sure she would’ve sent a second raven informing the young lord of your accompaniment to your brother, but perhaps not. Or, perhaps, the poor creature had simply gotten lost on the way in. You hope if that is the case, that it is alright.
“Oh, I…” You grasp for words. Oh Gods, now he was going to think you uncouth—to arrive entirely unannounced, leaving his people scrambling to make preparations for your comfort during your unplanned stay. You have half-a-mind to fall to your knees and start apologizing profusely, but instead keep yourself together. 
Finally, you clasp your hands nervously under your thin cloak—you had not been prepared when it came to the biting winds of the North, especially on dragonback, in high altitude. You’d clung to Jace, shaking violently the entire way in, wishing you’d bundled up until you could barely walk, instead of only donning a dress, tights, a cloak, and boots. Stupid. 
“I apologize for my unexpected presence, My Lord. It…it had been a late decision, per me, to come along as well. I had been sure my mother—the Queen, that is—would write to you of it—” 
It was going to take some time to so much as think of her as such: the Queen. To you, she was always just mama, or, rather, now, mother—a new title you’d begun using only a year or two ago to seem more mature. She had seemed saddened at the time by it, somehow.
He shakes his head. “Do not trouble yourself, Princess. We are glad to have you, rest assured.”
He offers you his arm then, and you flush at the kind gesture, before gently taking it, walking alongside him—Jace on his left—and into the beautiful stone castle Lord Cregan calls home.
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The servants rush to properly ready a room befitting a Princess, even if you had tried to assure them there was no need, until Cregan had said that he would only have the best lodgings provided for his royal guests.
So, you had been given a room next to his own, which he assured you—due to the hot water that runs through the piping in the walls, which comes from the natural hot spring located under the castle—would be plenty warm. But, if you required further comfort, you had plenty of thicket blankets and fluffy pillows piled upon your large, canopied bed by the servants. 
He’d left you then—but not before giving you a brief, albeit lingering look—so you could settle in, telling you that he was right next door if you needed something—anything.
You had been grateful to the servants for unpacking your things—filling the dresser and wardrobe provided—for you were plenty weary from your long and stressful journey. In truth, all you wanted was a steaming hot bath, a change into a soft gown, a filling dinner, and then a long rest.
You slip off your boots, placing them before the roaring fire at the front of your room—which is piled high with logs—and pad over to the bedroom door, slowly opening it and glancing to your left, down the hall, hoping to spot someone to request plenty of hot water to fill your tub.
“Something you need, Princess?”
You jump, heart hammering in your chest, which you then come to gently rest your hand over before turning to the right, greeted by Lord Stark watching you, one hand hanging limply by his side, the other’s wrist resting upon the pommel of his sword. 
His lip twitches. “Forgive me, I did not mean to take you by surprise.”
You shake your head. “It’s alright. I was just looking for a servant so I might have my tub filled. I’m afraid I nearly turned into an icicle on the way here.”
He grins. “That would have been most unfortunate.”
He then glances down the hall. “Alia,” he calls to a young maid around your same age.
She turns to the both of you. 
“Please fetch plenty of hot water for our guests, so they may each bathe after their long journey.”
She nods, scurrying away.
He turns back to you. “I shall leave you to it, then. To thaw,” he states, lip twitching.
“Thank you.” You smile, going to close the door, until he speaks again. 
“Will you sup with us? Prince Jacaerys and I have much to discuss, but you will be plenty welcome to join.” He is hopeful that you will agree.
You shift from one foot to the other.
In truth, the last thing you want is to squeeze yourself into a gown and have pins shoved uncomfortably into your hair while you force your eyes to stay open over your…whatever it is that they have in the North for dinner. A bowl of stew with a side of bread sounds nice.
You can’t be rude, however. Jace and you—even if they have already pledged their loyalty—need to do whatever it takes to have the full might of the Northern realm backing your mother’s claim to the throne. 
“I would like that very much.”
He nods with a smile. “I will see you in an hour, then?”
You nod in return, closing the door.
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You nearly drift off in the large wooden tub. The water had been steaming—an inviting sight—which had had you stepping into it near-instantly, sinking down, your muscles finally relaxing after you'd spent so long being in-flight. 
You’d washed thoroughly, scrubbing every inch of your tired body, before simply sitting and soaking, your heavy lids eventually drooping before you had shaken yourself back awake, refusing to die by drowning in a bathtub. 
You’d reluctantly stepped out then, drying yourself, then dressing on your own. You did not wish for help tonight. The less company the better with how tired you feel. 
You slip on a simple, soft blue gown, which has sheer, loose material for the arms and sways around your feet, which you then slide into a pair of slippers. You opt for simply brushing out your damp curls, leaving your hair loose and free of any extravagances for tonight.
You only wear a long silver necklace, which has a small charm of the symbol of House Targaryen hanging from it as any form of extra detail to your person this evening. You remember your septa once telling you that Northerners are a rather simple people, opting for the comforts of home and family and their beloved kingdom over lavishness.
You had admired that. 
Finally, you emerge from your room, nervously making your way downstairs, following the sound of soft music playing from the Great Hall, leading you to your host for the night—the next few, in fact.
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They indeed were serving stew. As well as roast chicken, hard bread, cooked vegetables, and more. 
You take your time with your dinner, listening silently as Lord Cregan and your twin talk about their newly-formed alliance; telling stories of his and your forebears. Every now and again, you smile or nod idly if one of them glances in your direction—Cregan doing it far more often than Jace, which you think quite kind of him; trying to keep you involved in the conversation, even if all you can think of is sleep.
Eventually, you feel a large foot brush against your own under the table, and it’s only then that you notice you had closed your eyes, and were currently dozing off over a bowl of fresh berries and tarts.
They slowly open, feeling heavy as anvils as you look to Lord Stark, flushing in shame at your poor manners.
He smiles softly. “You are exhausted, Princess. Please, allow me to escort you back to your chambers.”
You cover your mouth with your hand, yawning tiredly. “Forgive me, My Lord.” You stand then. “Thank you, but I will be f—”
He stands as well then, coming round to you before you can finish telling him that he should stay and keep company with your brother instead; you do not wish to interrupt. But, perhaps him leading you back is for the best when you realize that you’re not entirely sure which way your room had been now. In your fatigued state, you were liable to wander into anyone’s bedchamber tonight.
What a nightmare that would be.
You take his arm then, wrapping both of yours around his own, walking silently beside him as he leads you back upstairs. 
It’s only once you are standing before your door, which he opens for you, that you realize you had laid your head against his shoulder at some point. Gods, what he must think about your unladylike conduct tonight.
He is regretful when you lift it, however.
“Your room, Princess,” he says to you, quietly.
You blink up at him with tired eyes, your cheeks flushed, a small smile on your lips at his kindness. You always did feel far more affectionate when sleepy.
“Thank you, Lord Cregan, for your hospitality.” You pause for only a moment before stepping closer, looking up at him. 
He leans down toward you, interested in whatever is about to transpire.
“You may call me by my given name, if you like. ‘Princess’ is so formal. I hate it, actually.”
He’s taken aback by your frankness. Not off-put, however. Just pleasantly surprised. 
“Whatever you wish, My Prin—” He grins. “Pardons. Y/N.”
You nod once, smiling. “Much better.”
He likes you like this far better than the you from earlier, which had been clearly full of nerves and hesitancy—uncertainty of yourself. He wishes for you to feel comfortable here—at-home. Even if your stay will, most like, be rather curt. He wishes otherwise, for reasons he cannot yet explain.
You turn to head into your room, until he reaches out, taking your hand gently within his own.
You turn back to him, and he stills at his sudden act of forwardness. Gods, what was he thinking, touching you like that? 
You do not pull away, however.
“Yes?” You ask softly, still smiling at him.
He leans down, brushing a kiss over the back of your hand before straightening once more. “I bid you goodnight, Y/N. I will see you on the morrow.”
You flush, then squeeze his hand in return—you have half-a-mind to hug him; you would if he were one of your brothers; Lucerys always does whine whenever you give him a big kiss on the cheek before bed—before finally slipping your palm from his grasp, gently shutting your door behind you.
“Gods be good, what are you doing, man?” Cregan whispers to himself before finally stepping away from your room, heading back down to keep company with your twin for the rest of the evening in an attempt to distract himself from thoughts of tangling his fingers in long auburn curls and staring into brown eyes over candlelight. 
Meanwhile, you step out of your shoes, kicking them to the side, then slip out of your dress, leaving only your shift on as you slip beneath clean blankets that smell of pine and jasmine, quickly drifting into a dreamless sleep as the fire in your hearth softly crackles against the silent night.
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joelslastofus · 5 months ago
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[SUMMARY: Joel deals with his jealousy as Tommy and you get more serious.]
PART TWO to my last reblog!!
Smut, drama, infidelity, angst
“Did he make you cum?” His sudden question catching you off guard. His eyes darkened as he waited for your response.
Sarah’s mother showed up the next morning to take Sarah to school since Joel had to leave early with Tommy. When she arrived she noticed Joel acting stranger than usual, he was quiet not making eye contact with anyone, he seemed like he was in a bad mood.
“Woke up on the wrong side of the bed?” She whispered leaning toward him making him look up.
“Just gettin’ ready for work”
Tommy showed up and poured himself coffee yawning as he greeted Sarah’s mother.
“Well you missed the show last night, these two gettin’ locked in the basement”
“Who?”
“My brother and my girl” Tommy raised his brows as her mother quickly turned to Joel who kept himself with his back to both of them drinking his coffee.
“Oh really?” She raised a brow.
“Mhm, but it wasn’t for long” he continued.
“You ready to go or ya gonna keep yappin’” Joel uttered before taking another sip from his mug.
“I’m ready, let’s go” Tommy grabbed his bag as Joel walked out yelling out to his daughter that he would see her that night and not saying a word to her mother.
“I wanted my dad to take me to school” Sarah came out the room as she grabbed her backpack.
“Well we all can’t get what we want, can we?” her mother snapped at her before walking to the bathroom and slamming the door shut. Sarah didn’t understand why her mother had returned if she acted like she couldn’t stand being a mother.
As usual, Tommy would see you in the morning on the porch while Joel got the truck ready. Packing his stuff in the back he watched Tommy greet you with a kiss. He failed miserably at trying to keep his eyes off you, his eyes blazing with envy as he watched your lips touch his once more before Tommy walked back to the truck. Joel looked away before he could notice, walking to the front of the truck he looked up and locked eyes with you for just a moment before you quickly turned and walked inside.
Joel drove in silence, his expression rather serious as he kept his eyes on the road.
“You got back in late” he suddenly spoke, thinking about how his brother left with you and didn’t return till nearly three in the morning.
“What are you monitoring me now, dad?” Tommy chuckled but Joel quickly became lost in his thoughts thinking about what you two were doing so late together. Thinking about what you had said the night before in the basement.
His brother fucking you.
The thought making him breathless with anger before realizing Tommy was calling his name.
“Joel! You listening?!”
“What?” He snapped looking over at him, the look in his eyes weirding out Tommy. It was rare when he saw his brother angry to this extent, yet he didn’t understand what was triggering it.
“Nothin’” Tommy uttered before turning back to the road as Joel pressed his foot on the gas and continued driving.
Little did he know, you and Tommy hadn’t slept with each other that night. Instead you cuddled watching a movie and ended up falling asleep in his arms. The guilt still eating at you as you continued to think over and over what Joel admitted to you the night before.
After all this time.
After all this fucking time.
Now when you were giving his brother a chance, now when you were getting to know the sweet charming man his brother was, Joel admitted something to you that you would’ve killed to know earlier.
It didn’t matter, it didn’t change anything. Joel forgot about any history the two of you had when Sarah’s mother showed up. He forgot how much the two of you had in common, how twice for Sarah’s birthday you baked her a cake when Joel called that he would be running late from work. Hell, how you baked him a cake and helped Sarah surprise him with a gift. He forgot about it all…
“It’s Friday night brother, how about a double date with your lady and mine at the bar?” Tommy hesitantly approached his brother at work hoping he’d be in a better mood.
“No, uh, I don’t want Sarah alone and-“
“I’ll call the sitter and set it all up, come on, it’ll be fun. Cheer up a bit” Joel remained silent giving in to the plan.
That night you wore a brown milkmaid dress with a pair of heels you forgot you even owned. You were excited to spend time with Tommy while also secretly excited to get a rise out of Joel. Maybe you were being immature but the more you thought of how he treated you that very day he cut ties, it all made sense to you.
Meeting them at the front of their house you walked out of your door looking out to see if they were there. Joel being the first one to look up spotted you walking in their direction, his eyes drifting down to your body, noticing just how well the dress complimented you.
“Jesus-“ he whispered to himself before quickly looking away. How the fuck was he suppose to ignore you all night?
“Tommy” you poked a finger at his back making him quickly turn and immediately get taken back by how you looked.
“Look at you, you look gorgeous, baby” you smiled before all four of you got in the truck.
Sitting in the back with Tommy, Joel was given the perfect view of you through his rear view mirror. You could feel his eyes on you while Tommy looked out the window, Sarah’s mother complaining about things she had to do for her daughter, Joel was over it ignoring her. Tommy unexpectedly turned around and kissed you making you smile, Joel bit the inside of his cheek and looked away.
Once getting to the bar, Tommy was quick to order more drinks which you were more than excited to try to relieve the bit of anxiety you felt. The night continued and you found yourself drinking more than you had planned yet you felt just right.
“You wanna take another shot?” Tommy leaned over to you with the drink in his hand.
“Sure” you laughed before the two of you took the shot together.
“Oh that one was strong” you made a sour face as Joel watched with furrowed brows. Joel had never seen you drink that much before. Apart of him wondering if you were doing it on purpose just to get under his skin. Whatever you were doing, it was working.
“We should dance” you excitedly turned to Tommy who bit his lip with excitement and got up with you to the dance floor.
“What the hell are we even doing here?”
Sarah’s mother complained while Joels eyes subtly followed you.
“I came to have a drink” He responded without turning to her.
“And you have to figure out something with your daughter cause I’m not gonna be taking her to school everyday” Joel raised a brow as she sucked her teeth. She wanted nothing to do with being a mother. All he heard her do was complain about any little thing she had to do for Sarah.
“Did you hear me, Joel?”
“You can leave if you want, what the hell was the point of you comin’ back?” he responded bluntly before chugging his drink not caring the way Sarah’s mother felt.
He had enough. He knew she wasn’t for him, he knew too late in time that she wasn’t right for Sarah. Angrily she got up and grabbed her bag leaving the bar. Joel watched as you danced with Tommy, your arms wrapped around him, his hands running down your waist. Joel brushed his hand over his lips and looked away, the sight was too much to bare. After a few minutes he could hear the sound of your laughter coming closer before he looked up.
“That was fun” you sighed as you slid into the booth.
“Hey where’s your lady?” Tommy asked as he sat beside you. Joel simply shrugged and took another sip of his drink.
“That’s done” his words making you look up at him. For some reason hearing he was no longer with Sarah’s mother bought you some kind of happiness.
“Well forget her, I never liked her for you anyway” Tommy responded before he took a shot. Just as he did you and Joel looked at each other for a moment before you quickly looked away.
“Im gonna go get us some more drinks, I’ll be right back” Tommy leaned in towards you, before you could say anything he left you and Joel alone together. Uncomfortably you swallowed looking away as Joel stared you down, the jealousy in him rising the more he thought about what his brother had told him earlier. You staying the night with him the night before, Joel hated the thought of it.
“We should get going soon” you spoke casually trying to find something to speak of.
“Wouldn’t wanna keep you from another night with Tommy” he responded with sarcasm.
“What was that?” You raised a brow as he leaned forward.
“You and Tommy…ya know I ain’t surprised you already slept with him, that’s just what girls like you do. I guess Sarah’s mother was right about you after all” Joel letting his anger and drinking take over, allowing himself to insult you in a way he never had.
“Excuse me? Girls like me?” Was he calling you a whore? Before you could respond Tommy showed up beside you making you quickly look away.
“One more drink before we go” Tommy smiled looking down at you.
“Yes…but I need to use the restroom” you quickly stood up almost stumbling as Tommy caught you by your waist.
“You alright?”
Joel almost stood up for a split second to help you before catching himself. Even through the anger he couldn’t help his immediate response.
“Yes….I’ll be right back” you quickly made your way to the bathroom as Joel glanced at you with the corner of his eye watching as you hid your face.
“I hope she invites me back to her place again tonight” Tommy grinned.
“Im sure you’ll get lucky again, don’t worry” Joel uttered low.
“I didn’t get lucky last night,-“ Joel quickly looked up not expecting what he was told.
“She doesn’t move like that, it ain’t what I’m used to but I like it. It’ll happen when it’s suppose to”
A part of him relieved to know nothing had ever happened while the other half of him feeling like a dick for what he said to you. He knew he fucked up, his jealousy getting the best of him, he regretted what he had said. You stepped out of the restroom looking at Joel from where you were. You couldn’t believe the audacity he had to speak to you in such a way, you knew you didn’t deserve it.
“We should get going” you showed up to the table making both men look up.
“What’s a matter, don’t want your drink first?” Tommy pushed the shot towards you.
“No…I’ve had enough” Tommy shrugged and took the shot before he stood up and walked out with you with Joel right behind. Joel’s eyes following Tommy’s hand move lower and lower down your back.
He couldn’t fucking stand it.
The three of you too intoxicated to drive you took a cab as Tommy assured his brother he’d pick up the truck in the morning.
Sitting in the back of the cab next to Tommy you looked out the window thinking about what Joel had said to you until Tommy’s voice distracted you.
“You wanna stay with me tonight?” Tommy’s question making his brother look up into the rear view mirror from the passenger seat. The thought of seeing any more of Joel in that moment only irritated you but you knew him seeing you with Tommy would bother him more and so you agreed to stay over.
Once you all walked inside you quietly sat on the couch with Tommy and watched some tv. Joel ate in the kitchen attempting to sober himself up and slowly he did. Silently watching you two as you both were distracted with the tv when the phone rang making you look up.
“I gotta pick up Sarah!” Joel called out as he hung up the phone.
“Ain’t she sleepin’ over her friends?” Tommy asked.
“That’s what I thought- I’ll be right back” you watched as he walked out and slammed the door as you stood quietly until Tommy turned to you.
“You feel ok?” He asked caressing the side of your face. You nodded just as he grabbed your face and began to kiss you. Yet, somehow you still managed to think of what Joel had said to you. It didn’t sound like him at all. The anger towards him driving you to wrap your arms around Tommy eagerly . His hands touching every part of you he could grab as he kissed your neck and began to undress you.
Joel drove tensely not liking that he left you two alone, not liking that he hadn’t apologized for what he said. His mind racing when Sarah once again called him and told him she didn’t need to be picked up. With a sigh he turned back around and headed home.
By the time Joel returned he noticed the lights were out and no one was in the living room. He walked towards the kitchen when the sound of your sudden moan made him stop in his tracks. Joel froze in place as another moan echoed from down the hall. It wasn’t the first time he overheard his brother sleeping with a woman but this time it wasn’t just any woman…it was you. Angrily he grabbed the bottle of whiskey off the counter and began to drink it. A rage he never felt before settling within him when there was a sudden silence.
Tommy gave you a pair of shorts and a t shirt of his as you stood aside watching him put on a shirt. You couldn’t believe you just had sex with him, having sex with him out of pure anger against Joel. It didn’t feel right.
“I’m gonna go use the restroom” you spoke low as he finished cleaning up before you quietly walked out.
Just as you closed the door behind you, you looked up to find Joel standing by the kitchen. You gasped in shock as he took a step forward, you noticed a half empty bottle of whiskey in his hand.
“I…I didn’t know you were here” you whispered as he looked down at you. The sight of you wearing his brothers t shirt, your bare legs in his view. He didn’t say a word but the silence was very loud. Pure pain in his eyes he took another chug of his drink, the sounds of your moans still echoing in his mind before he abruptly walked away and slammed the door loudly making you jump. Anxiously, you ran to the bathroom with tears in your eyes. You didn’t understand why you felt this way, you were suppose to be angry with him, he was the one who did wrong, not you.
“I’m so fucking stupid” you whispered to yourself just as you heard Tommy come out of the room. Trying to compose yourself you washed your face and freshened yourself up before walking back out. Not wanting to run into him again you quickly went back to the room and lay in bed.
The next morning you dreaded leaving the room, afraid to find Joel in the living room. Tommy nudged you playfully as you got dressed before kissing your cheek.
“What’s wrong?” He asked pulling you against him.
“Nothing, just tired”
“Yeah, we got in pretty late. Come on, let’s go” he took you by the hand as you took a deep breath and followed him out.
There was Joel sitting at the head of the table having breakfast when he looked up at you both, adjusting himself in his seat.
“Where’s Sarah?” Tommy asked.
“Gonna pick her up in the evening” Joel uttered low without looking at his brother. He couldn’t bare to look him in the eye, not yet.
“Ain’t you late for work” Joel took a sip from his cup as Tommy raised a brow.
“It’s Sunday- oh shit!” Tommy went running through the living room grabbing his bag.
“I forgot I told those two guys I’d meet with them today, and I gotta get the truck- fuck!” You watched as he paced around the house before grabbing his keys and going for the door.
“Tommy?” You screamed out confused.
“I’m sorry baby, it’s a big contract, have some breakfast I’ll call you as soon as I’m done”
“But Tommy-“ the door slammed leaving you and Joel alone together. Awkwardly you stood as he looked down at his paper, his broad shoulders rose high with each deep breath. He looked pissed, you didn’t know what to say.
His knee jumping under the table the more he thought about it before you finally decided to say something.
“You know, it’s not fair for you to act this way” you hesitantly spoke as he suddenly stood up grabbing his plate without looking your way and walked to the kitchen.
The loud sound of his the dishes hitting the sink making you jump before he turned to you.
“It’s not fair?” He spoke low as he walked towards you making you step back.
“I had to hear my brother fucking you last night in my own house, your moans so god damn loud I heard it the second I walked through the door” he continued walking towards you until he backed you against the wall.
“Well-“ you took a deep breath not expecting him to have been so blunt.
“You did say it was easily expected of me…you know girls like me?” Joel regretted saying that to you knowing damn well he didn’t feel that way about you.
“I know he never slept with you before last night, he told me”
“Oh great, so now that he did I guess he will report that to you and brag about it-“
“Did he make you cum?” His sudden question catching you off guard. His eyes darkened as he waited for your response.
“Joel-“
“Did he? Did he give you what you were lookin’ for?” You were speechless, your lips parting yet you couldn’t make a sound. Joel didnt take his eyes off you, his heart pounding hard in his chest.
“I’m not having this conversation with you-“
“Tell me, or are you afraid-“
“What the hell would I be afraid of?!” You yelled back just as he roughly pulled you against him and kissed you muffling your shocked whimper. His hand brushing up the back of your head grabbing a hand full of hair, pulling at it as you smacked his chest before he pulled his lips away. Still, he held you close forcing you to look up at him as he tugged at your hair. As much as you looked like you were trying to stop him, you wanted him to do anything but stop.
“What are you doing?” You whispered as he looked down at you. Joel knew right there he needed to have you, he needed to feel you with whatever time he had alone with you. Carrying you on top of the closest thing near by, he sat you on the edge of his desk and quickly began unbuttoning his pants with one hand. You didn’t stop him, wanting it just as much as him you pulled your dress up above your thighs watching as he pulled out his hard member.
He was ready for you, panting you quickly pulled down your underwear and let it fall to the floor. Joel placed himself between your legs and spit in his hand, his eyes looking into yours as you felt his fingers touch you and make sure you were ready for him. Placing his cock at your entrance he slid himself in you as you both breathed into each other’s lips. He wasted no time in moving at a steady pace pushing himself as deep as you’d take him. Grabbing onto him you kissed him passionately, moaning against his lips wanting to feel every part of him. Throwing your head back you moaned as a wave of pleasure burst within you. He kissed your neck moving his mouth slowly up against your ear.
“This is mine, you hear me?” He spoke breathlessly as he continued to fuck you. His cock filling you up more than his brothers had, stretching you with each thrust. Unexpectedly he carried you off the table, taking you to the couch. He sat down with his hands on your hips as you took over and began to ride him.
“Oh shit baby…just like that” he squeezed your ass as you moaned bouncing on him when you suddenly heard the truck pull up in the driveway.
“Oh my God Joel-“ you froze.
“No don’t stop” he slouched down on the couch and began thrusting upward.
“Joel- he’s there-“ you panted but Joel wouldn’t stop. His eyes squeezing shut as he bounced you on his cock and came inside you. Joel cried out deeply, holding you in place as his pelvis jerked beneath you.
“Oh my god” you whispered looking down at Joel, your hands on his chest balancing yourself when you heard the car door open.
“He’s coming!” Quickly jumping off Joel you ran to the bathroom as he struggled to get up catching his breath.
“Tell him I left!” You screamed from the bathroom hoping Tommy would leave fast. Joel quickly dressed himself wiping himself wit paper towels noticing how drenched in sweat he was.
“Shit” he whispered before noticing your underwear still on the floor. Quickly Joel picked it up and put it in his pocket just as the door unlocked and Tommy walked in.
“I forgot the damn paperwork” he rushed inside not even taking a look at Joel. Rushing past him, Tommy grabbed the folders off the very desk he had just finished fucking you on.
Tommy so distracted with being late to the meeting it slipped his mind to ask about where you were and he simply left. Joel waited for the truck to pull out and called for you.
“He’s gone!”
Hesitantly you came out of the bathroom still in shock with what had just happened.
“I have to go” you awkwardly tried to walk past him until he caught you by your arm slowly pulling you to him.
“Ya don’t have to-“
“No” you pushed him away.
“Why the hell did we just do that?! Tommy doesn’t deserve that”
Joel looked down at you not knowing what to say as he knew you were right.
“I guess you were right after all” you chuckled sarcastically.
“About what?” He looked down at you confused.
“Girls like me right, now I really am a whore-“
“Don’t say that” he pulled you against him hard.
“You know damn well I ain’t mean it when I said that” he whispered.
“Doesn’t matter, cause it’s true. And…and-“
“What?”
“I have to get a morning after pill now”
“I’ll get it for ya”
“No! Just leave it. Look I gotta go” you pulled your arm back and quickly ran out to your home next door.
Your thoughts running a mile a minute you rushed inside and locked your door. Heading straight for the shower you let your dress fall to the floor as you began to cry in guilt…in confusion. Never had you felt like such a shitty human being.
That same day you ran some errands and noticed Tommy had left you a couple messages. Of course, talking about the night before, telling you how he wanted you even more. His messages making you sick to your stomach you didn’t respond.
Out at the pharmacy you picked up a plan B rushing home hoping you wouldn’t run into Tommy or Joel. With your luck, just as you pulled up Tommy was right outside.
“Hey babe,” he walked up to you as you got out of the car.
“You alright? I called you a few times”
“Yeah sorry I just-“ you dropped your bag on the floor making the after pill come out of the bag. Tommy furrowed his brows as he picked it up from the ground and suddenly chuckled.
“Baby, we were careful. We used a condom, I don’t think you need to take this” your skin hot from anxiety you awkwardly took back the pill.
“Yeah…I just…I’m sometimes paranoid and I-“
“Alright, it’s ok. I understand” Tommy smiled making you feel ever shittier. Why would he expect you were taking the pill because his brother had just came in you. You smiled and began to walk to your door as he followed.
“Why don’t you come join us for dinner-“
“I don’t think I can” you responded anxiously trying to unlock your door as fast as you could.
“Please baby, I really enjoy spending time with you” he left you speechless. What the hell else could you possibly say?
“Sure” you whispered. Tommy happily leaned in and kissed you before walking back to his house.
Tommy walked in to his brother fixing something beneath the sink for the third time that week.
“I tell ya, I’ve grown tired of fixing this damn thing” Joel lay on the floor as Tommy laughed.
“Well maybe you’re not even fixing it, that’s why it’s always broken” Tommy teased.
“Haha. Hey do me a favor, the laundry’s been sitting in the washer for twenty minutes now, mind puttin’ em in the dryer for me?”
“Yeah sure” Tommy went on to walk to the laundry room as he informed his brother that you would be coming for dinner.
“You ok with y/n comin’ for dinner again right?” Joel froze and cleared his throat.
“She’s comin’?” He asked surprised that you didn’t find an excuse to not show up.
“Yeah,” Tommy began moving the wet clothes into the dryer when he noticed something sticking out of his brother’s pocket.
“Well, alright but I ain’t cookin’” Joel responded as Tommy grabbed Joel’s pants and pulled out the black material that was sticking out only to see it was the same underwear you had on the night before.
Tommy didn’t move, in disbelief he stared down at the underwear not knowing what to even think.
It couldn’t have been…at least he hoped not.
But what other explanation would there be for this?
“Tommy you hear me?” He suddenly realized his brother was still talking in the background and quickly put the underwear away in his pocket.
“Yeah, yeah I hear you” he called back out to him. Tommy had no idea how he was going to deal with the situation but he decided to first move in silence and see how the evening was going to go with you around Joel…you had no idea what was in store….
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visenyaism · 7 months ago
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Heyy!! What are your thoughts on Jaeherys and Alysanne's daughters?
well when your father looks at you and only sees an incarnation of his own sister-wife because you were put on this earth for him to groom into a future child bride for his sons or summarily disposed of it is a bit of a crazymaking situation.
I think the reason Jaehaerys acted inexplicably genuinely shocked every single time one of his teenage daughters got to marrying age and someone suggested that they get married was because he thought that he was going to be the only man in their lives forever because there is something deeply wrong with him. and then their mom is arranging these crazyass matches with older men to live vicariously through them because she never got to choose a partner, so it really is just a complete and total psychosexual codependency enmeshment nightmare.
-think something had to be extremely wrong with valyrian tradwife never allowed to develop an independent identity Alyssa below the surface. because being named the golden child by responding positively to the grooming telling you to peg your brother and wanting to birth him an entire army of sons before dying at 23 definitely speaks to….something. where else do daemon‘s mommy issues come from
-Daella exists to be a victim and dies giving birth to her daughter who also exists to be a victim. sacrificial lamb parthenogenesis.
-Maegelle got out of everything else simply by being conceived with the explicit intention of being a living tithe. somehow the least crazy situation on this list. 
-I don’t know whether or not it is intentional that Saera is written exhibiting so many of the behaviors indicative of being a CSA victim. hypersexual alcoholic dysregulated fifteen year-old being held down and forced to watch her father chop her boyfriend in half by her mom‘s codependent female bodyguard is an experience you could throw the entire works of Sigmund Freud at and come up lacking. i hope lys was nice.
-Viserra being exiled for absorbing too much of the Targaryen grooming background radiation and getting falling down drunk at 15 before making a move on her brother. this just keeps happening to them. I’m sure it’s a coincidence. insane that Alysanne really felt like she was competing with her own daughter here because I know she was a #boymom with baelon and aemon.
-I think it’s interesting how no one mentions Gael ever again after she kills herself and no one seems to think of her at all given the fact that she’s daemon’s age and presumably would’ve interacted with any of the grandkids. I know it’s because textually she’s just an afterthought, but I think it would be interesting if her yellow wallpaper ass existence and the fact that she is basically a pet for her mother her entire life just sort of renders her posthumously unspeakable. no one wants to talk about what happened to her.
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chuunai · 10 months ago
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Henlo I have something to add to the 100 followers event if that’s cool
Dazai with scenario 2 and prompt 16. Idk how these things traditionally go but…. Your stuff seems good so far and I’m excited to see what you do with this
Thank you thank you, Anon. Also sorry for how long this took everyone I swear I’m combing through the requests 3_3
✧˚ · . dad first, detective second - dazai osamu
who would’ve imagined the demon prodigy having a hellion of his own?
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summary ⋆ ★ comfort, fluff, established relationship (marriage with reader), SFW → baby baby baby, Dazai really likes your boobs, etc.
It’s a perfect night, really.
Your warm body resting against his, limbs lazily tossed over each other as you snuggled and acted like lovesick fools. Moonlight poured in from the cracks of the curtains, casting small slivers on your face. Dazai couldn’t help but think of an angel when it came to you. A heavenly being that granted him a new life and forgave him for his past.
Nudging at your cheek with his nose, his voice came out in a sleepy tone.
“You should sleep, [name].”
His hand reached up to cup your face, playfully using his thumbs to gently close your eyelids like one would do with a body. He’d seen many people in the Mafia do that—try and make the deaths they caused seem more peaceful rather than a brutal end. Dazai himself never did that. No need in beautifying a simple concept of its finality and simplicity.
“Can’t. I know she’s about to wake up. It’s nearly eleven, and we put her to sleep at seven. I can tell.”
You shook your head stubbornly, looking at the baby monitor nearby where static noise and the occasional mix of a tiny snore and coo came from.
His little hellion.
Really, he had no clue how he got so lucky. First with the fact that he impregnated you and you carried his baby. Second with the fact that he had his own family now. And third with the fact she looked so much like him. Thick brown curls of hair on her head, big curious eyes that looked at him so adoringly. The tiny freckles and birthmarks scattered across her skin. She had some of your features, yes, but they were more subtle than his features.
Coupled with the fact that she was a bundle of energy and sass like him.
“I insist, pretty. Shinju needs her daddy too.”
He knew how much she made you tired with her habit for refusing to nap for more than an hour or two coupled with breastfeeding and the general responsibility and time that being a mom took. Dazai wanted to spend time with his daughter too and relieve your stress. You’d get sleep, he’d get to see Shinju. Win-win, in all accounts.
Hell, he even gave you puppy eyes in the darkness of your room.
“I…fine. But don’t wake me up if you screw up.”
Dramatically, he sighed and frowned, placing a hand on his heart.
“Does my ‘bella really think I’m an incompetent father? How heartbreaking and cruel of her!”
Much to his relief, you playfully groaned, pinching his sides lightly.
“I didn’t say that, dummy. God, I swear Shinju is more mature than you.”
Jesus, you were so insulting tonight. How was the baby that tried to put anything she could in her mouth more mature than him? Sure, he was a bit funny and childish, but he wasn’t a baby. Well, if he had his face buried in your boobs he’d be a baby. Still, it’s not his fault that they’re just so big and warm and squishy and seem to beg for his attention.
Which is what he soon did, resting his head on your chest while cupping them softly. You were wearing one of his shirts and a nursing bra underneath. He wished you weren’t wearing anything at all, but it wasn’t fair to ask for that when you recently gave birth just a mere two months ago. His libido lowered itself only for you. And when you did have sex—quickies when Shinju would nap—, he was so much nicer and loving than usual. The mother of his child didn’t deserve rough mean sex, no, she deserved gentle treatment under the sheets of their futon.
You deserved everything that he could possibly give you.
So when the small baby demon eventually began to wake up and whimper, he pressed a kiss onto your cheek and slowly got up, whistling a small tune under his breath before waking to the makeshift nursery nearby.
Opening the door slowly, he made his way to the crib and picked up his sniffling newborn, shushing her comfortingly.
“Shhh, it’s okay. Daddy’s here. We don’t want to wake up mama, okay?”
Her tiny hands balled up into fists, weakly moving around and occasionally hitting his chest. Sitting down on the rocking chair nearby, he fumbled around for one of her stuffed animals, grabbing the familiar bunny as he placed it in her arms.
“Look there, Shinju. It’s your bunny!”
From an authoritative Mafia executive to a tired loving father. Lord, Chuuya would be laughing his ass off. Or have that stupid face of confusion while he’d berate Dazai with questions about what unlucky woman had to bear his spawn. But what could that short alcoholic of a ginger say? No woman wanted to birth his babies.
He was quickly snapped out of his thoughts when Shinju’s tiny fingers began to grab at his chest, thinking he could feed her too. He could, just not straight from the source unlike you. Standing up, he went over to the mini-fridge nearby which contained bottles of your milk. It wasn’t too chilly, and so he carried it and the cooing baby to the kitchen where he warmed it up in the microwave.
After it warmed up, he carefully began to feed her, leaning back against the counter as he did so.
It still felt so odd to him. Caring and loving someone he helped to create. His self from ten years ago would never believe it—that they’d find love and even have a baby after escaping the Mafia. He had you to thank for that. The one who picked up the discarded pieces of his soul and welded it into the man he is today—a father first, and a detective second.
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Kinda rushed the end but I couldn’t think of anything more :(
Tags: @twst-om-lover, @sinfulthoughtsposts, @xxcandlelightxx
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houserautha · 7 months ago
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These Destined Ends
Part 8
Summary: Jessica fulfilled the wishes of the Bene Gesserits to produce a daughter. You’re now burdened with the task of not only marrying the na-Baron, but also bearing his child — the Kwisatz Haderach. Will you take your fate into your own hands? Or will it always belong to those who control you?
Pairings: Feyd-Rautha x F!Reader
Word Count: 6.2k
Warnings: oral sex f receiving, the Reverend Mother is a bitch, you get your period, incest, mentions of child abuse and pedophilia, depictions of violence and gore, cannibalism (the harpies), he chases you, strangling, dubious consent, p in v, no foreplay, fingering, inappropriate use of a ring, rough sex, no protection, creampie
A/N: Nothing like a visit from your evil grandmother to snap you out of your dick trance. And a nice…jaunt…through the woods to put you right back into it
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“You should stay.”
Feyd gazes up at you from between your thighs, mouth glistening and slick. His pupils are blown, plush lips swollen from the attention he’s been giving your cunt. His fingers dig into the supple flesh of your ass.
“Is now really the time to discuss this?”
You consider. This seemed like as good of a time as any, especially since you had him essentially trapped: you kneeling over him, knees bracketing his head, holding onto the headboard while Feyd laid beneath you, hands keeping you from squirming too far away from his eager mouth.
“I thought it might bolster my argument,” you finally admit.
Feyd hums in response, using a finger to spread your wetness. You shudder involuntarily.
Feyd.
When had you started calling him that? Probably sometime in the course of the last few days, in which neither of you seldom left the bed. No matter how many times he had touched you, each one led you to the brink of ecstasy.
“I do have a hard time refusing you when you’re like this,” Feyd rasps, inserting a single digit inside you. “But I’m afraid I have no choice.”
You wiggle your hips, hoping to both coax him into staying and incite him to move his deft fingers. “Please.”
Spending the last few days is exactly what you’re arguing about — Feyd is insistent that that he must return to his duties as na-Baron. Other duties, it turns out, then securing an heir.
“I said no,” he tells you briskly.
A whine builds in your throat.
Three months ago, you would’ve been appalled at this. Hell, a few days ago, you would’ve been appalled at this. But that was before Feyd had spent nearly every second of every day lavishing you with his tongue and his mouth, fingers alighting on your skin and cock keeping you full with his seed. Without him inside you, you would feel despicably empty.
“Be a good wife and I will come back and reward you for your patience.”
“How will you do that?”
And he shows you: lapping at your cunt until you can hardly bear to kneel anymore, then taking you from behind. His hips snap mercilessly against your ass as he tells you all of the ways he’ll pleasure you when he returns. It’s really not fair — especially when he fucks you so thoroughly that you barely have any protest left in you by the time he slips out the door.
Later in the day when you’re moping, sufficiently disgusted with yourself, a servant appears to summon you from your dick-induced misery. They stand hesitantly in your doorway.
“na-Baroness.”
“Hm?” You aim for casual indifference, hoping the servant can’t smell the evidence of your rampant fucking. You had turned away any of the cleaning servants, halfway clutching onto the hope that Feyd would come back. He didn’t.
Asshole.
“You have a visitor, come to congratulate you on your wedding.”
“Oh?” You can’t think of anyone who wasn’t already in attendance that would want to meet with you. “Who is this visitor?”
“She claimed that you would know her.”
You narrow your eyes. “You believed her?”
“She-She refused to tell me her name.” The servant sheepishly shifts their weight. “The next thing I knew, I was here, na-Baroness.”
Ah, The Voice, no doubt.
There could only be one person who would want to see you and be strong enough to inflict such a power. The reality of the situation sobers you. “Tell her that I will be right with her.”
Quickly you dress, your thoughts turning from the prowess of your husband to more pressing matters. Disappointment stabs at you when you realize that your suspicions were right — Reverend Mother Gaius Helen Mohiam perches elegantly on a chaise in the room where you typically receive guests.
She’s swathed in gauzy black fabric, the only indication of her gaze being the slightest trembling of her decorative chains as she turns to appraise you. Rather critically, if you were to guess.
“Lady Y/N. Or should I say na-Baroness Y/N?”
“That is my title now,” you reply coolly, “you should know, considering that you were the one to ensure it happened.”
“I did not come here to trade barbs with our tongues.”
“Shame,” you say.
The Reverend Mother says haughtily, “I came here to congratulate you. And remind you of your responsibility. I trust that Jessica delivered the fertility necklace?”
“She did,” you grind out.
“It is paramount that you conceive a child with Feyd-Rautha as soon as possible.”
“How do you know that I haven’t already?”
“I know you haven’t,” she hisses, “otherwise I would smell it on you. Your blood will come soon.”
This creates a knot of anguish in you that you try not to examine too closely.
The Reverend Mother continues, “You have failed. We cannot dally, child, when it comes to the matter of the Kwisatz Haderach.”
“It’s not for lack of trying. He’s been fucking me regularly to ensure a heir,” you snarl at her, hoping to blindside her with your crassness just as she did with news of your upcoming blood. “Maybe you should’ve gotten a Bene Gesserit witch to do your bidding.”
The Reverend Mother scoffs. “Jessica failed to educate you in our ways just as you’ve failed to conceive. I would’ve chosen anyone else if it wasn’t for ten thousand years of careful breeding. But, alas, it seems you are my only option.”
“Right,” you retort.
“Now we must do whatever it takes to ensure that the Kwisatz Haderach is conceived,” says the Reverend Mother. Her tone takes on that of self-importance. “I will conduct a visit every month until then.”
You twirl your finger in a celebratory manner.
“You mock me, but you are just fortunate enough to be here. The mother to the Kwisatz Haderach — no greater title could be bestowed upon an individual. You will bear the fruit of our tedious labor, the one destined to shape the future of our world. And you do not even appreciate this blessing.”
“Oh yes, a blessing upon my unborn child that will inevitably seat him as your puppet.” Your hand flickers to your belly, above your empty womb as if you can protect the life that has yet to take root there. “What kind of mother am I to impose that?”
The Reverend Mother stands. “An obedient one.”
You storm furiously from the receiving room without saying goodbye — formalities be damned. You’re surprised she doesn’t beckon you back with The Voice. Perhaps she knows that you’ll be forced to take audience with her next month. The thought carries you through the fortress halls without any predilection of where you’re going, replaying the conversation in your mind and growing angrier by the minute.
So lost in your anger that you scarcely recognize the rasping growl of your husband’s voice, clearly attempting for a whisper but failing spectacularly.
“—those times are over,” you catch him saying.
You peer into a room, the Baron’s own personal quarters. You’d been here only once before, when Asha gave you a tour of the grounds. How did you even get here?
“Even so, you are still my charge,” the Baron replies. “I am your keeper.”
Folding yourself into a corner adjacent to the Baron’s quarters, you watch your husband stalk back and forth like a caged predator. “I am a grown man, Uncle, you have no more use for me as you once did.”
“Even still, I remember the day you would come crawling at my every order —”
“I told you. Those days are over. They have been for quite some time.”
You can’t see the Baron as well as Feyd, just sense his enormous presence, a storm cloud encroaching a sunny day. “Perhaps it is the matters with your new wife that make me long for the days of the past.”
There’s a sickening intimacy in his words.
“Don’t speak of her,” Feyd snaps, but you get the impression that this admittance has rattled him.
“I have given you everything,” the Baron continues, nonplussed, “your title, your fame, even this wife that you’re so quick to defend. In return I ask just for you to —”
“No. Never again.”
The Baron’s softness hardens, crystallizes. “I know that it’s you who chases away my boys. And yet you won’t even offer your own services to me.”
“I chase them away to keep them from your clutches,” Feyd fires back, incensed. “Not from jealousy as you so selfishly presume.”
“What am I to do then, nephew?”
Feyd stops his pacing. “Rot. I ought to just drown you in that tub.”
“I know you don’t mean that. Come here.”
Feyd hesitates. Your pulse hammers uncertainly, if the implications of this conversation are —
You watch your husband — your proud, inviolable husband — slowly make his way to the side of the Baron’s tub. You risk moving from your hiding spot to see him kneel beside it, his features neutral and dark gaze lowered. The Baron raises a fat arm, black liquid sluicing from it, and cups the side of Feyd’s face.
“My darling nephew. You will always be my favorite.”
Feyd stills as the Baron nears him, presses a chaste kiss to Feyd’s lips — the lips that only hours ago had been between your legs, on your breasts. As far as you can tell Feyd does not reciprocate the gesture, but willingly allows it to happen anyway. Your stomach twists.
You can’t watch this anymore.
You turn and flee back from where you came, sickened and confused and utterly perplexed.
The next morning, there’s blood on the sheets. You tear them off in frustration, more so that the Reverend Mother’s prediction was correct than the fact of its presence. Feyd never returned as he promised, and you spent the night tossing and turning, your nightmares torn between images of your doomed child and the Baron in his tub, reaching out with thick fingers to drown you.
That being said, you’re exhausted. You draw a bath for yourself and have just sunken into the warmth depths when you hear a commotion in the other room. Feyd steps in the bathroom.
His gaze goes to you, roaming over your naked figure before landing on your face. “What happened?”
“I got my blood.” You dip lower into the tub, submerging yourself. “I don’t want to talk about it. What happened to you?”
He traipses inside. “What do you mean?”
“You were supposed to come back last night,” you say. You don’t want to seem sadden by his absence, however, so you busy yourself with lathering soap on your arms and legs.
“I’m here now.” He perches on the side of the tub.
It’s eerily similar to the scene you saw yesterday. You involuntarily shy away from him. “Don’t.”
“Don’t?” His voice pitches with disbelief.
“I-I need to talk to you,” you tell him.
Feyd’s smooth brow furrows. “If this is about your blood, it doesn’t —”
“I saw you. Yesterday. With the Baron.”
You expect him to flinch, to recoil. But there’s not even the slightest change in his expression. You swear you see a flicker of recognition in his eyes, but it disappears so fast that you’re not even sure you saw it. “You don’t know what you saw.”
“Explain what I did then.”
“I cannot.”
“The Baron —”
“I took care of it,” Feyd says.
His tone suggests that the conversation is over. You drag a hand through the water, swirling with soapy residue. “He hurt you.”
“He didn’t do anything I didn’t want him to do.”
“You were a child.”
“I haven’t been a child for a very long time,” Feyd says quietly.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
You finally meet his gaze. He’s watching you carefully, studying you like you’re something he’s never seen before. Your heart aches for him. While it’s impossible to imagine him so young, you know that at one point he was just a boy. Thin limbs and missing teeth. Dimples on his hands.
You touch his hands how they are now, scarred and calloused, fingers slightly bent from repeated breaks. He lets you.
“You’re starting to wrinkle.”
He snatches your hand, gazing in wonderment at your palms. You can’t help but laugh, though it’s pained, his admission fresh on your mind. “That’s what happens if I’m in water too long. Don’t look at me like that — do you not wrinkle?”
“Harkonnens don’t spend copious amounts of time in water.”
“Then what happens?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing? I don’t believe you.”
Feyd’s lips twitch. Before you know it, he’s removing his clothes and dropping into the bath behind you. He has to contort his long limbs but manages to settle in, pulling you back against him.
You tilt your head back to rest against his chest.
“I’m sorry —”
“I told you not to be.”
You close your eyes, throat working. “Not-Not about that. That I’m not pregnant.”
“I don’t care.”
“You don’t?”
He picks up your hand, runs his thumb over your wrinkled palm and the pads of your fingers. “No.”
Somewhat hesitantly, you tell him about your visit with the Reverend Mother. He listens, but with your back flush to his chest you can’t gauge his reaction.
“She said she’s going to conduct monthly visits,” you add sourly.
A rumble sounds in his chest. “Do you want this?”
“No, I don’t want it,” you retort. “If I had my way I would never see her again.”
“Then consider it done.”
You turn halfway, bracing yourself on the edge of the tub so you can face him. “You can’t just do that.”
“Do what?”
“The Reverend Mother always gets her way,” you tell him. “She won’t listen to you. And it’s not worth concurring her wrath.”
“Then we’ll have to ensure she won’t need to visit for a second time.”
You blow out a stream of air. “I wish it were that simple. Even if I do get pregnant, they’re going to be hovering over us until our last breath.”
Feyd doesn’t answer.
All you can hear is the sound of his heartbeat in your ear. It’s slower than yours. Due to the thickness of his blood, his heart doesn’t have to work as hard to get it through his body. At least, that’s how he explained it. You were still learning about each other.
You examine his hand. It’s as smooth as before.
“Strange,” you mutter.
He counters, “You’re the one that wrinkles.”
Later, when you’ve toweled dry, Feyd approaches you from behind. He cuts a menacing figure in the mirror, a charcoal sketch of blacks and whites. Pale skin, dark eyes. A phantom that presses his lips into the curve of your shoulder.
“I want to show you something.”
You frown. “What?”
“Come away with me. Tomorrow.”
“I will if you say where we’re going,” you reply. You spin around and he traps you against the vanity, hands at your waist.
“Just tell me you’ll go.”
You pause, although mentally you’ve already agreed. You’re desperate to leave the fortress. “Are you going to ask nicely?”
“No.”
“Then no.”
Feyd nudges open the panels of your robe, revealing a triangle of skin. “Very well. The girls will be disappointed.”
“What girls?” You close your robe.
“My concubines,” he says with a ghost of a smile. He knows exactly how to flay you, how to press his finger into the wound to make it hurt. “They will be going.”
“Then so will I.”
“I thought you wanted me to ask nicely.” His smooth brow raises.
“And I thought you were done with them.”
He skims his hands over your sides. “You have no need to be jealous, wife. They are nothing to me.” Feyd grins secretively. “This trip will satisfy a different hunger of theirs.”
“Dare I ask?”
“You’ll see soon enough.”
The thopter crouches ominously in the distance. You trail after Feyd in disbelief. “You know how to pilot that?”
“Don’t you?”
You scowl. “No. I don’t like heights.”
Yesterday, after Feyd delivered his previous promise of rewarding your patience, he explained that you would be traveling to the far side of Giedi Prime. He wouldn’t give you many more details than that, but you were too curious to care. Anyways, as much as you loathed to admit it, and no matter how much you denied it, you were jealous of his concubines. If you were forced to marry him, then he should be forced to endure you solely without the benefit of other women.
Fortunately, they would be traveling separately from you, in what Feyd swore would be a relatively short ride. He helps you onto the thopter then climbs in after you.
The machine shudders as the insect-like wings snap to life. You grip the armrests of your co-pilot’s seat as Feyd guides the thopter into the air and away from the fortress, piloting it with the refined way he does all other things, with little worry or fear of failure. You wish you could exercise such confidence — especially now, as the thopter clears the smog scarfing the planet, and can you really tell how far up you are.
“Tell me something,” you say, eyes closed. “I need a distraction.”
Even though you can’t see him, you can only too clearly picture him grinning at you. “Anything?”
“Anything,” you grit out.
Feyd is quiet for quite some time. When he finally speaks, his rasping lilt obtains a softness that you’re unfamiliar with. “The Baron still…requests…the company of young boys. I do my best to intervene but I don’t always succeed.”
You peel open one eye. “It’s his disgusting problem. You can’t blame yourself.”
“But when I do,” he forges ahead, almost as if you never said anything, “I like to make sure that they won’t need to worry about him again. And that their captors will never see the light of day again.”
“Is that what we’re doing?”
“Or something,” he says vaguely.
Feyd goes on to say that, with their military schools segregated into males and females, it’s only too easy for captors to select boys that will please the Baron. The longer he talks, the tighter his grip on the controls are, until you fear that he might snap them in half and plunge you back down to the earth.
“You didn’t have to do anything about it,” you say finally, quietly. “But you do.”
Feyd’s dark eyes glint. “The Baron needs to die.”
“Why haven’t you done anything?” It seems wrong to casually inquire why he hasn’t killed his uncle — his abuser — but he doesn’t seem to mind.
Feyd shrugs. “I’m afraid that the baronship will be stripped from me if I kill him. And I can’t allow Rabban to take over.” He glances at you. “By the way, I didn’t know you were so close to my brother.”
“I’m not,” you grumble.
“Then why did he want to dance with you?”
“He wanted to warn me. There seems to be something happening that I could’ve prevented had I—” you trail off.
Were you really going to tell him? You didn’t know how he would react. The only reason you hadn’t said anything yet was because you didn’t want to anger him for no reason. You had no proof Rabban was actually planning anything but fodder to try and convince you to side with him.
Feyd must sense your unease. “Had you what?”
“He wanted me for himself.”
You swear you feel the thopter jolt slightly as Feyd works to regain his control. “Why didn’t you tell me this?”
“I didn’t think it meant anything,” you explain. “I thought he was just…jealous. Do you know what he’s talking about?”
“No.” Feyd’s jaw clenches.
“So then maybe it’s nothing,” you say flippantly, though you’re no longer convinced.
“He can’t just corner you and —”
“I handled it,” you interrupt.
Feyd glances at you. “He doesn’t need to concern himself with you. You are mine.”
You might’ve rolled your eyes if he hadn’t chosen that moment to start your descent. You reclaim your grip on the armrests and don’t bother opening your eyes again until you feel the thopter safely grounded.
“I’ll speak with him,” Feyd tells you. Dust settles as the thopter’s wings fold in.
You frown. “You don’t have to. I don’t want him thinking that I need you to fight my battles.”
“I don’t want him thinking that he can just manipulate you.”
“Who said he was succeeding?”
Feyd smiles slightly. “No one.”
You both step from the thopter. The first thing you notice is the lack of factories. A band of barren land encircles you and, a few hundred yards away, the start of a forest. You squint at the trees — you hadn’t seen that many in one place since your time on Caladan. It’s a comforting sight, despite the eerie sight of the neon green leaves rustling in the stiff breeze. The black sun has begun to sink below the horizon, returning color to the land, but only in small amounts.
“Come, wife.” Feyd strides for the treeline.
“Where are we going?”
Your question is answered, however, when you spot the second thopter. Your muscles tense as you recognize the forms of his concubines, three women, standing against the machine along with four other huddled forms.
As you near, the shapes of the huddled forms come into detail — four men, hooded like the prisoners from your wedding, covered in grime. The concubines each hold one man, the fourth bleeding profusely from a wound; his entire right arm is gone. You feel bile rise in your throat.
“Did you start without me?” Feyd asks his concubines sharply, eyes flicking to the fourth man.
“No,” one of the concubines says, “he did that himself.”
“Y/N, these are the men who facilitate my uncle’s…bad habits.” Feyd steps up to the first one. The man trembles.
He removes his hood and then retrieves a dagger from his belt, pressing the blade into the man’s throat but only enough to draw a thin line of blood. In response, the concubines shift in anticipation. He’s bleeding them so that they’re easy to track.
You watch, wide eyed, as he repeats the process with the other men. You can hardly find any pity for them, these horrible, horrible men, but the ratcheting tension in the air sets you on edge. Your mouth feels dry.
“And now they will know what it’s like to be hunted.” Feyd steps back to admire his work. Then, speaking to the concubines, “These men shall make fine meals for you.”
Your stomach drops. A meal? Did that mean —
The concubine closest to you flicks the fork of her tongue over her black teeth.
Feyd grabs the chin of one of the men. His voice is sickly sweet, almost a purr. “It will be dark soon. You better run fast.”
The concubines release the men. The four of them linger, uncertain, afraid, before the tallest of the concubines lunge for them — the men scurry away, glancing periodically over their shoulders as they run for the treeline. The concubine giggles.
“I’m sorry it’s been so long,” Feyd says. “I know you must be hungry. But not for much longer.”
The women flock to him, kissing his neck, the stretch of skin exposed by his armor. But he holds his hand out to you, and you take it.
“Feyd —” you begin.
“This is what I wanted you to see,” he says. “I told you that I took care of it. My uncle will never touch another child again.”
You swallow. Your gaze sweeps outward, to the forest, where the men have already disappeared. There’s a trail of black blood on the ground from the man with only one arm. How would he survive in the wilderness?
“You didn’t tell me that they…” you glance at the concubines.
Feyd smirks. “They crave flesh. It only seems fitting that I can satisfy them while fulfilling justification of my own.” He tilts his head back, marveling at the darkening sky. “Plus, I so enjoy the thrill of the hunt.”
You don’t know how to reply, so you don’t. Just observe as the concubines grow more anxious until, finally, Feyd gives them the signal. It’s so dark that you can scarcely see, but the dome of their smooth heads glint in the remaining light, and a shiver dances up your spine as the forest swallows them completely.
“They deserve it,” Feyd says to you.
You turn to him. “I know it.”
“Then why do you look bewildered?”
“I didn’t know that Harkonnens enjoyed…flesh,” you admit, repeating his words from before.
“Not all of us do.”
“Do you?”
Feyd’s grin does something to you — runs a finger of desire up your thighs and to your core. He cups the side of your face. “I have my needs, just as everyone else. Why? Are you hungry, wife?”
“No, I’m not,” you answer, nose wrinkling.
“Hm. I am.” Feyd brings his mouth to yours but doesn’t touch it, his lower lip grazing your top. “I want to devour you. I want to feel your heart pulsing, taste it in your blood. I want to consume you.”
Heat pools in your belly. You raise your chin, body bowing to him as if pulled by invisible strings.
Your voice is low. “What are you suggesting?”
“Let’s play our own game,” he says, “I chase you, you keep away from me until the sun rises and avoid the others. Or not.”
“And if you catch me?” You ask, breathless.
“I will satisfy my own hunger.” The hand cupping your face brushes down your neck, your shoulder, over your breast.
“Is that supposed to be a punishment?”
“We’ll see.” A wicked delight smolders in his eyes.
Gone is the man who held you in the tub, who traced the wrinkles in your palm like he wanted to commit them to memory. And in his place is the man you know best, who terrified and enthralled you and had you questioning your sanity; every day drawing you further into his infuriating orbit.
And you ran from him.
You pump your arms as fast as they will go, legs cycling, the promise of him on your heels. This was the epitome of your game, the ultimate test, and you were determined not to fail.
You’d learned survival from your father and Gurney. And even though you had not taken to it as you should’ve, you had been taught the Bene Gesserit way of cataloguing every single movement and flash of light, every detail in perfect memory. And so you ran. And ran.
And you kept running until you stumbled upon your first body.
It was the man who had lost an arm in an attempt to escape from his imprisonment — at least, you thought. He was badly mutilated. Blood covered the ground and pervaded your senses, to the point that the combination of it and his shredded entrails made you nauseous. You were no medical expert but you were almost certain that he was missing organs.
That someone had feasted upon him.
You unwittingly absorb his torn flesh and the evidence of teeth marks. The white of his bone.
You fight down your repulsion. If you vomited, it would give Feyd and the concubines a hint at your presence, the latter who undoubtedly hunted down this man and ripped the flesh from him. So instead you turn and run in the opposite direction, hoping that you won’t meet anyone else.
The slightest of breezes has you flinching, certain that someone will descend upon you and ravish you — one way or another. The thought spurs you on, keeps you from lingering too long in one place. The ideal decision would be to stay still and wait until morning. But you know that Feyd will be as proficient of a hunter as he is a warrior, a lover, and this keeps you going.
Branches tear at your arms and legs, the pilingitam trees seemingly intent on ensnaring you and keeping you hostage. You wish you had a knife or a shield or something. You were left despairingly empty-handed and defenseless. The only weapon you had was your strength, your endurance, the cunning of your mind, which seemed insufficient in comparison to the next man you come across, who is unequivocally alive.
It’s an accident — both of you running in the dark and finally colliding in a burst of pain. You fall backwards on your ass. The man gazes at you in fear until he takes in your clothes, your hair.
“My, my, the na-Baroness,” he says, chuckling at his good fortune. “The na-Baron turned you loose, too?”
“He thought his harpies might need the help,” you sneer back, suppressing a wince as you stand to your feet.
“You don’t have their bloodlust,” the man observes. He looms closer to you. “You might not be the Baron’s typical type, but it must be awfully distracting to have you in the fortress with him. How lucky the na-Baron is.”
His voice is taunting. He’s sure that he’s got you trapped. “And how lucky am I to have found you first.”
The man launches at you. You twist to avoid him but his hand catches your side, spinning you and taking him down with you. His body lands on you, heavy and foul-smelling. Desperately you try to wriggle free from him but his actions are unpredictable. You jab aimlessly at him, hoping to find a weak spot — finally you bring your knee up into his crotch, and it’s enough for you to roll to the side and away. He glares at you.
The dark hinders your senses, but only slightly, trading blows with the man in rapid succession.
He grabs a rock from the undergrowth and raises his hand, intending to smash it down on your head, but there’s a sudden spray of hot liquid on your face. The man screams and falls to the side. You scramble away just in time to witness a blur of pale skin, a concubine with her teeth buried in his shoulder. It’s not long before his screams turn to whimpers as she bites and tears, pointed nails driving into his chest and stilling his heart.
“Thank-Thank you,” you gasp. You’re too stunned to move, unable to move your gaze from the man’s bloodied body.
“I didn’t do it to save you,” the concubine hisses.
Blood is slathered across her face and the front of her shift. Suddenly, you’re not so sure that you prefer her over the man.
“I —”
“You took him from us,” the concubine continues, taking staggering steps toward you. “No longer does he call on us in the middle of the night, mutters our names as we coax his orgasm from him. Now his lips only say your name.”
“I am his wife,” you counter, regaining the control on your racing thoughts, adrenaline subsiding. “I will secure him an heir, rule by his side. All you have to offer is your services.”
The concubine rushes you. It appears that you can’t catch a break. But this time you’re prepared for your opponent, dealing a swift jab to her jaw before she can even lay a hand on you. She reels. You take the opportunity to kick at her knee. She falls to one side. Maybe she knows how to wring pleasure from your husband but she’s forgotten that you, too, are a warrior.
You don’t want to strike her down, just as you didn’t want to kill Ze’ev. But circumstance has left you no choice. You will carve your place on Giedi Prime out of violence and bloodshed if that’s what it takes because that’s how you were taught.
You snap her neck. Her death doesn’t satisfy you, though, as Ze’ev’s did. You take a step back.
A branch breaks.
The harbinger of death melts from the shadows. “Not only have I found you, jewel, but I’ve found you with the blood of my concubine on your hands.” Feyd nudges the limp body with his foot. “They aren’t easy to train.”
“She attacked me.”
“I know.”
You grit your teeth. You’re covered in dirt and blood, both yours and not, sweat matting your hair to your skin. “You watched and you didn’t intervene?”
“No.” Feyd crosses to you. “And I didn’t need to, did I?”
“Would you have let her kill me?”
Feyd gazes upon your face, studying you closely. “Do you think I would’ve?”
“No. I don’t.”
He seizes you suddenly — grabs you by the throat and nearly lifts you off your feet. “If anyone kills you, it will be me. Do you understand? Only my hands can touch your body, steal your blood from it. Watch the light go from your eyes.”
Feyd releases his grip enough to steer you backwards, one hand bracing on the base of the tree and the other still at your throat.
“You are mine,” he growls.
Usually, a declaration of such a nature would ignite a flurry of anger within you. But coming from him, it’s nearly a love song. Possessive. Domineering. Fraught with dark devotion. His fingers on your throat a gift sweeter than any necklace of gold or silver.
Feyd pushes your pants down your thighs, then returns his hand beside your head. He captures your mouth with his. There’s no delicacy there, only fervent need, teeth scraping yours, your lips, tongue combating yours. And you kiss him just as hungrily. You lied earlier — you were hungry. You needed his touch. Needed the swipe of his tongue on your skin to subdue the darkness persistently lurking inside you, the one that he put there, the only person able to extinguish its flame.
He spreads your legs and spears you with his cock. His size, the lack of your readiness, causes frissons of pain to erupt through you and you cry out. Feyd grunts as he thrusts into you, tree bark scraping your palms as you clamor for a hold. He ruts into you with wild abandon, hips bucking, muscles tense as he foists his pleasure on your body.
You mumble your protest when he withdraws from you, just as you’ve stretched out to accommodate him. Feyd strokes himself, slick with your moisture, pre-cum gleaming on the tip of his head. He makes a fist and then presses his knuckles to your entrance, the cool metal of his ring bearing down on your clit. You yelp.
“Quiet, wife,” he rasps, “you’ll draw more unwanted attention. And I’m not done with you.”
He bites down on your lip, drawing blood. If he hopes to silence you, this does the opposite, and you moan into his mouth. Unperturbed, Feyd presses his knuckles against your entrance, the surface of his ring flattening on your clit, a wicked source of pressure — of pleasure — driving you to orgasm.
The coolness of the ring contrasts the heat flooding through you.
This time when he touches you, he twists the ring up his finger, and then, both into your cunt. It adds an extra ridge to his fingers, one that pitches your orgasm again as it slips in and out of you, each thrust of his hand causing you to jolt.
You come and your pleasure cleaves you, into what feels like nearly in half, splitting you down the middle. Feyd returns the ring to your clit until your orgasm subsides, then plucks it off. He offers it to you, pushing it into your mouth, and you eagerly suck it clean.
It tastes of metal, of your monthly blood.
Feyd hums his approval, then presses a kiss to the ring before slipping it back on.
You writhe. You need friction. You need his cock buried in you, his unrelenting pummeling.
Feyd fists the hair at the base of your skull and uses the grip on you to throw you to the ground, naked and quivering. He drops to his knees behind you. You gasp out as Feyd notches his cock at your entrance, grabs your hips to keep you firmly in place. Blood soaks your hands, your knees, the fresh smell of death enveloping you. You try to wiggle away from it but he secures you there with his cock, snapping his hips against your ass and himself snugly inside your cunt.
“Stay here,” he growls. “I want you bloody and spent, here where they can watch.”
You fight back a sob, a combination of desire and disbelief. The concubine and the man lie only a few feet from you, watching you with their glassy gaze, their blood coating your hands.
“They tried to take you from me.” Feyd’s voice is incensed, not entirely for you rather than for himself to hear. “My wife, my jewel. And now they can watch me fuck you amongst their bodies.”
Feyd increases the speed of his thrusts. You can feel him swell with his impending orgasm, fill you even further, deeper. A cry looses from you as he finally spills himself inside you, grinding into you as he finishes and his cock starts to soften. Feyd nudges open your thighs, ensures that none of his seed escapes.
He adjusts himself and leaves you to scramble to your own feet, filthy and, frankly, swimming in the fog of your post-orgasm.
Feyd examines you. “You look wonderful.”
You bark out a laugh, your throat bruised and sore, the sound scraping out of you. “Liar.”
“Of course, you always do, filled with my cum.” He turns you to him, picks a branch that’s woven into your hair. “My beautiful, full wife.”
He grabs your hand and tugs you into the surrounding darkness.
“Should-Should we wait for the others?” You ask.
“No.” Feyd glances behind you. “They won’t be pleased when they find out you killed their sister.”
Part 9
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cameronspecial · 7 months ago
Text
A New Kind Of Normal (Part 2)
Pairing: Dad!Rafe Cameron x Reader
Warnings: Cocaine Hangover and Attending Sobriety Resources
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 2.4K
Summary: Rafe wakes up the next day remembering his mistakes and realizes he needs to change.
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The massive headache he has from the cocaine he did last night makes him question why he does it in the first place. Jaw pain is not unusual for him thanks to the substance, but it still doesn’t mean it can’t hurt. He rubs the sleep from his eyes and it helps him clearly see the sweat stain on his pillow. The deep breath he takes brings clarity to last night's events; panic starts to weave through his mind. Y/N is never going to forgive him for going to her house while high and saying what he said. The fury she held is definitely not one he want to meet in court, especially since he built a case against himself. This stress needs to leave him and he knows one substance that would help him relax. It’s the same thing he turns to every time he argues with his dad. He sniffles in an attempt to bring moisture back to his nose, but it doesn’t work. His hand shakes as he tries to open the ziplock bag filled with the white substance. 
And then he thinks about those small blue eyes that match his eyes. The excitement in her voice as she saw her mother. The way her beautiful hair blew in the wind as she ran around the counter. It stops his fingers from going any further. If he keeps turning toward drugs, he will never get to see her again. She’ll never get to know that he is her daddy and that he cares for her even if she doesn’t him. She’ll never get to tell him about her favourite TV shows or food. He wonders if she needs a night light to go to sleep and how many stories she likes to read before bedtime. He doesn’t even know his own daughter’s name. 
He needs to change because he wants to find all that stuff out. He told Y/N that he would’ve changed if he knew about their daughter and he is going to prove that he truly meant it. The first thing he needs to do is get a therapist and get clean. That’s his new goal. All he wants as of now is to be the best father he can be to the little girl. 
——
“I’m Rafe and I am an addict.” The other members of the meeting all retort with the typical anonymous meeting greeting. He didn’t think he had a problem, but his therapist begged to differ. She says that if he really wants to be in his daughter’s life, he has to show Y/N that drugs aren’t more important than their daughter. “I started using it when I was in my senior year of high school,” he starts to explain. “Most parents say they don’t have a favourite when their kids ask, but my dad was different. It was always clear to me that my younger sister was his favourite. No matter what I did, Sarah was the perfect one and I was the worthless one. Coke was the only thing that made his tiny voice in my head stop.” The group gives him sympathetic nods. They wait for him to continue, “I think that’s all I’m going to share for today. That’s all I need to get off of my chest right now.”
“Thank you for sharing,” Diana thanks. The meeting goes on and Rafe listens intently to the others’ stories. Listening to their journeys, he couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen the signs of his own addiction before. The clacking of chairs folding finds his ears as he helps clean up. He doesn’t hear Diana’s footsteps as she approaches him, “So what made you decide to get sober if you don’t mind me asking?” He looks at her and finishes putting the chair he is holding away. “No, I don’t mind. Um… I recently found out that I have a daughter. I didn’t react so great when I found out that she was kept a secret from me, so I realized I needed to get better for her.” 
“It’s good that you realized you needed help. What’s your little girl’s name?”
“I actually don’t know. I was too high to ask. Another reason why I need to get sober is so I can get to know her.” 
“I see. Well, if you need a sponsor, I would be more than happy to help. I’ve been sober for three years. I know how difficult it can be to try to change.”
“That would be great. I’ve been sober for a day and I’m already struggling with it a little bit.” 
They exchange numbers before Rafe goes on his way to his next meeting of the day. 
——
Anger management right after a narcotics anonymous meeting may not have been the best idea on Rafe’s part. He really did want to get better, but with therapy, he has been doing a lot of talking about his feelings and it is exhausting to him. “And what do you think your anger triggers are, Rafe?” Corey asks, leaning forward in his chair. Rafe feels irritation fill him, “If I knew, then why would I be in anger management?” The look Corey gives him makes Rafe feel like he is receiving a warning from a parent. 
He cowers a little under the look. “Okay, I’m sorry for being snippy. But I’m hoping that I can figure this out. I want to figure out what makes me angry and how I can express that anger in a healthy manner,” he reasons. Corey agrees with his statement, “That’s exactly why I am here to help. Why don’t we talk about times you were angry?”
“The last time I was angry was when I found out that someone I slept with five years ago had my baby and didn’t tell me for five years.” 
“Right and were you more angry about the lie or the fact that you had a kid?”
“I am more upset by the lying. I told myself that I would be a better parent to my child and she didn’t give me a chance to do that.”
Rafe feels nervous with Corey’s eyes on him; today is the most he has been vulnerable since the night he met Y/N. “That is very angering. Now, how do you think you could’ve managed your anger?” Corey pushes, moving one leg over the other. Rafe takes a second to think, “I should not have gotten high that day. Instead, I should’ve opened communications with her. She tried to talk to me before I ran off, but I didn’t give her a chance.” “That’s right, Rafe. This is a very good start for your first session,” Corey applauds. 
——
The blast of music can be heard from outside the front door. Rafe has to laugh at the off-key and incorrect lyrics that are sung about five seconds too late. His daughter might look like his twin, but she seems to have inherited her mother’s musical abilities. He pauses as his fist lifts to knock on the door. The two girls in the house have their own lives. They already know how they fit into each other’s lives and he could off-balance their equilibrium by worming himself into it. He can’t mess up being a father if he isn’t in her life. But then he also couldn’t be a great father if he just left without trying to make things right with Y/N. 
He shakes off his anxiety and knocks on the door. The singing stops and the music dims. He can hear her footsteps approaching the door. Vanilla. It seems to haunt him whenever he is around her. He is glad fear doesn’t flash through her eyes when she sees him. He wouldn’t be able to handle knowing he caused her to feel that way. 
Her hair falls over her shoulder as she looks over at their daughter behind her. “Stella. Why don’t you go play in your room, Baby?” Y/N suggests, blocking Rafe from the little girl’s sight. Stella shoots up from the couch, “Okay, Mommy.” Her little running legs slowly down at the calling out from her mother to walk. With Stella out of earshot, Y/N finally gives him her full attention. “So her name is Stella. It means star, doesn’t it?” he thinks out loud. She slowly nods her head, “Yeah, I thought of it when I was stargazing while I was pregnant. Plus, my grandmother’s name was Luna so I thought it was a good homage to her. Rafe, I thought I made it clear that I didn’t want to see you again unless you were suing me.” His hand moves his watch face back and forward on his wrist. He doesn’t want to look her in the eyes. 
“It’s a beautiful name. And you did make it clear. I want to apologize first. I shouldn’t have shown up to your house high. I probably scared you and Stella, which I never meant to do. 
“Apologizing won’t fix the fact that you came over high while my daughter was in the room.”
“I know, I’m sorry. But seeing our little girl, Y/N. I never thought that I could feel so much love for a person I didn’t know before. It made me realize that I need to change. So I started going to NA, anger management and therapy. I want to be mentally healthy. For Stella.” 
He can see the way she is processing his words and it gives him hope that he has a chance. “Rafe, I’m glad you are trying to get better. I really am, but I don’t know if I can trust you. You haven’t shown me that you are responsible enough to be Stella’s father,” Y/N explains and she doesn’t want to admit that the sad look on his face causes her some pain. He finally has the courage to look at her, “I understand. I wouldn’t trust me either. All I’m asking is that you give me a chance to show you that I am serious about being there for her. I’m hoping that if I stay sober for a month, you might consider letting me meet Stella as her father.” The silence that comes from Y/N absolutely kills Rafe and he feels like time is dragging on. “Okay. Stay sober for a month and Stella can meet you. But I want to meet you every week to get to know you more to make sure you are someone who can be around her,” she offers.
Rafe’s smile fixes the pain she felt before. He throws his arms around her to give her a hug, “Thank you so much, Buttercup! Can you do dinner tomorrow night?” That nickname. God, she didn’t think she could feel this many butterflies in her stomach at a simple name. She remembers why they are having this conversation and removes herself from his arms. “Dinner feels too romantic. How about lunch?” she counters. He gives her a thumbs up as he walks backwards toward his truck, “I can do lunch, great. I’ll pick you up at twelve. See you tomorrow.” 
He gets in his car and starts it. As he does so, he feels a pang shoot through his heart. She didn’t like the idea of going on a date with him, which tomorrow wasn’t going to be. He doesn’t know why he feels that way about it. He shakes off the feeling and focuses on the road.
——
Given that they are here because of Rafe, he offered to pay for lunch. They had decided on a small cafe near her house. “Were you able to find a babysitter? I can pay them for you if you need,” he states, playing with the food on his plate. She shakes her head at his offer, “My brother is watching her, so you don’t need to pay anybody. I certainly don’t need you paying for anything else either. I’ve been able to provide for her just fine so far.” “Right, right. I’m not saying that you can’t take care of her. I just want to make up for not being there for the first few years of her life,” he clears up. She takes a bite out of her sandwich, “You don’t need to make up for not being there. I knew where to find you and it was my choice not to tell you.” 
“Right…So you have a brother?” 
“I do. I have two actually. An older one and a younger one. How about you? You have a sister, if I remember correctly.”
His heart flutters at the fact that she remembers him talking about Sarah. He looks up to see that her attention is fully on him, “Yeah. I have two younger ones. Sarah and Wheezie.” “Wheezie. That’s an interesting name,” Y/N tries to pretend it isn’t strange. Rafe chuckles at the look on her face, “It’s a nickname, Buttercup. Don’t worry.” “Of course, I’m glad your parents had enough reason not to make that her legal name,” she jokes. Her beautiful smile that Rafe loves has returned, “Me too.” “How are you feeling about being sober so far? Any withdrawal symptoms?” she worries. He feels a twitch in his hand at the mention of his sobriety, “I’m not going to lie. It’s hard. I’m always tired, I’m more hungry than normal and I feel an unpleasant itch throughout my whole body. Not to mention the need for the drug is driving me crazy. But then I think about Stella and remember what I am doing this for.” 
The corner of her lips turns upwards at the thought of Stella helping Rafe stay strong. He must truly feel a love for Stella if she is helping anchor him during these trying times. “That’s good,” she says. “Button, I know I said I didn’t want to see you again, but if you ever feel the need to talk to someone, you can come to me. I know that addictions can be hard to overcome and I can see you really are trying. I want to help so Stella can meet her father.” The genuine care in her voice brings tears to his eyes. He barely knows her, yet she has shown more belief in Rafe’s abilities than Ward has in the twenty-six years that Rafe has been his son. Plus, using the nickname she gave him all those years ago must be a good sign that they are on the right track. “Thank you, Buttercup. It really means a lot to me that I have your support.” 
Taglist: @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @drewstarkeyswifehoe @kisstaya @magicalyoura @mp-littlebit @loverfu55ii
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nmakii · 7 months ago
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Omg ! I didn't think you'd actually respond !! We're gonna fly away from here is easily one of the best ones in the series!! It's so Twisted and disturbing but almost domestic... (Also tysm for including my name idea in your story, Idk where it came from, I just liked it and I appreciate you!) I digress. I've returned with a concept. Al almost always has a plan when he does something. I don't know where you want to go with the second child but this won't be too focused on that one...for now. I really liked how you interpreted Alastor being a weasel and weaseling his way back into the families life and was thinking about how many I wonder about if he has a plan right now, like not a long term one, obviously, but a very specific one for a 'short term'. Women back then, especially in the south weren't allowed to have bank accounts so finicial trapping works well in this case. Also just kinda the ability to turn their kids against her would be enough to terify me. People talk about the 1950's housewife, but oh my god, 1920's housewives were a new kind of depressed. I, personally, don't think Alastor is the type of physically abuse women. No, he's far too classy for that. Instead, like I said, I think he'd either use his status in their house to trap his wife. We were able to run away while we were pregnant and alone, but we have a child now...and would we be willing to leave our child with him? No, I don't think I would, personally. This was just me rambling. K, love u, currently hyperfixated on this au. Byeee !!!! _ Cherry Anon!
DON’T REALLY WANT NO TRUST FUND BABY
[before reading this, read the rest of the story!]
— seems as if alastor found out your little secret
— UR TOO SWEET I SC THIS ON MY IG STORY AND YAPPED TO MY BOY BSF FOR AN HOUR AB IT IM BLUSHING SO HARDDDD!! ABUSE WAS LIT MY LAST SOCIAL STUDIES LESSON FOR THE SCHOOL YEAR MY TCH YAPPED AB FINANCE SO HARD 🤭🤭
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being married to alastor, the radio show host is quite the sensation in your town. but, behind the closed curtains, alastor did things that would’ve made lucifer shake in his boots.
no, he didn’t hit you. his mother would kill him if he hit his wife. but, just because alastor never hit you, didn’t mean he didn’t abuse you.
he tormented you in the worst way possible, through noah. and now, emilia.
it’s been 3 years. your little emilia lives up to her name, a cute little girl who’s eager to win. and, little noah is now a big boy, double digits and all.
and, since you’ve returned back to his house, alastor has done nothing but twist your babies’ minds. ‘once upon a time, mama wanted to run away from daddy… so, she ran away and took big brother with her. daddy was sooo worried for mama and big brother though… daddy was able to track mama down, and took her home!’ he cooed to your daughter, bouncing her in his arms— with you right beside him!
you wanted to yell; scream. of course, emilia was too young to understand what alastor was saying. but, still— the fact that he was trying to tell your children that he was some sort of white knight who saved you from yourself. you wanted nothing less, but to snap that neck of his like a twig.
you really shouldn’t act so brashly though. to outsmart alastor, you have to think like him. think of what’s smarter in long run.
alastor was ‘kind’ enough to give you an allowance. $200 every week for groceries and whatever you may need. he’s even so kind as to let you have some ‘private bonding’ with noah and emilia as they accompany you to the farmer’s market.
thankfully, you had a father who wanted to make his little girl survived even without a husband. and so, you had to hear all of his ramblings about finance. saving about 45% each week for 3 years… was about $14,000!
if you saved just a little more, you’d be semi-financially independent until you can get a proper job to take care of your children. it was run-away money, so to speak.
you hid the money in noah’s room. after all, who would expect money there? especially $14,000? and, it worked, for a while. every monday, while you tucked him into bed, you brought the money with you and hid it behind his dresser.
until, what had seemed like a normal tuesday. you came home from the tailor’s, getting back a dress that noah accidentally tore. when you came home, it was only two hours after noon. and despite that, alastor was home.
“a-alastor..! what are you doing home so early? you have a broadcast in 2 hours…” you narrowed your eyes at alastor, on the floor with your children, many new toys surrounding them. “ah, darling! i decided to pick up our children early, and we may have splurged on our little shopping spree…” he smugly grinned. “oh..? where’d you get the money?” you raised your eyebrow, closing the door and laying your bearings on the dining table.
“funniest story ever, my love! there was a random stash of money in noah’s room! seems as if the tooth fairy came early!” he laughed. random stash of money in noah’s room..? “oh. i see.” your breath stopped for a minute, thinking of what kind of consequences could come from it.
“do you have any idea how that money landed there?” he side-eyed you, expecting a lie. “perhaps it was from the old owners? you know this house, there’s so many secrets in here.” you said. “i see… i suppose you are right, darling!” he giggled.
you were back on square one. financially dependent on your husband, if you could even call him ‘husband’. as you climbed up the stairs, you heard alastor whisper to your son. “you see that? momma lied. she got less talkative when papa asked her a question.”
this is what alastor’s been teaching your son. as much as you want to protest, you did lie.
oh, how much you wished for much more simpler times. playing with your baby boy in the kitchen as you make little treats together for his snack at school. and now, the boy alastor’s turning him into— a cunning sociopath, the lord only knows what he will teach your daughter.
this is just a minor setback, it has to be.
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nanawritesit · 1 year ago
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sugar-daddy!BM headcanons (NSFW section at the end)
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SFW trigger warnings: fem!reader, he ends up being more like a rich boyfriend than an official sugar daddy, you call him daddy, he calls you honey and baby, light cursing, mentions of a sick family member
NSFW trigger warnings: p in v intercourse, oral sex, hair pulling, scratching, marking up, soft dom x obedient sub dynamic, spanking, handcuffs, lingerie, daddy kink, size kink, car sex, balcony sex, he calls you princess and baby
how you met:
you met matthew at the mall. you were working at a jewelry store trying to make some extra money, selling things you could never afford for yourself.
he came in one day to buy a new chain, and you were immediately taken aback at how gorgeous he was
he was tall, built, and had a smile that could make any girl melt. and the way he wasn’t fazed at all by the high prices of the jewelry meant that he had MAD money. in short, he was your dream man. but you knew there was no way he’d go for someone like you. guys like him only went after heiresses and swimsuit models, right?
still, you were super kind and helpful, as you were with all your customers who weren’t assholes. he greatly appreciated how interested you were in finding the perfect chain for him :)
you knew he was flirting with you… i mean, what man unbuttons his shirt and asks if you think his chain hangs low enough to show off his sternum? he knew how much he was flustering you, and he loved it.
once he had picked a suitable chain, you rang him up and packaged it better than you’d ever done before. you made sure to throw in some extra goodies for him too, just because he was just so damn fine 🤭
as expected, nothing came of your first interaction. he just thanked you again for all your help and told you he hoped you had a wonderful day, then walked off, presumably to another high end store
he thought you were gorgeous, sure, but he sees gorgeous women all the time. what really made him fall for you was when he saw you a few hours later.
he had in fact gone to a couple other stores, buying himself some designer clothing and fine accessories. as he was about to leave the mall with his shopping bags, his attention was drawn back to the jewelry store
a little girl had just ran up to the counter, tears streaming down her cheeks
“miss, please help me! i can’t find my mother!”
he was about to go help, but stopped once he saw you react
you immediately walked around the counter and crouched down to her level, putting your hands on her shoulders.
“it’s okay sweetie, don’t cry!” you reassured her with a warm smile. “we’ll get you back to your mother, okay?”
once she had calmed down, you asked her for her name and called security to ask them to make an announcement for her mother to come get her from the jewelry store.
“would you like to look at some pretty jewelry while we wait sweetie?” you asked her. she of course agreed, quickly forgetting her sadness as you showed her all the sparkly pieces in the case.
eventually her mother did come get her, thanking you over and over for helping her daughter find her. you told her it was no problem and to have a wonderful night!
matthew couldn’t help the little smile that crept its way onto his face. it was so sweet of you to take such good care of that kid. anyone else would’ve just dumped her off at the lost and found. suddenly, you became the most attractive girl in the world in his eyes. a beautiful girl is certainly enough to turn his head, but kindness is always what wins him over. 🥰
you were too good for this world. he wanted to take you away from this place, show you some of the happiness you always gave to others. you deserved everything, and he wanted to give it to you. 💞
becoming a sugar baby:
when he approached you and asked you out, you were honestly too shocked to even give him an answer. you thought you had seen the last of him after he bought his chain, but here he was, asking you to get dinner with him after your shift.
after collecting yourself, you told him you’d love to, but you didn’t think you were properly dressed. the white blouse, pencil skirt, and ballet flats you were wearing didn’t seem posh enough for the place he had in mind 😀
“don’t worry about it, we can stop somewhere to get you something. i think there’s a chanel around the corner, does that work for you?”
you blinked at how he said it so casually. “i think the only thing i could afford there is a luggage tag.” you laughed nervously.
“i would pay for it obviously.” he replied nonchalantly. “as well as anything else you’d like along the way.”
you wanted to protest, but everything just seemed to happen so fast. next thing you knew, he was opening the passenger door of his benz for you, and then you were in a chanel dressing room, zipping up a dress that costed more than your rent 😭
“look at you, you’re absolutely stunning!” he told you, smiling brightly with wide eyes as he looked you over. you were suddenly so bashful under his gaze, chuckling nervously and smiling at the ground
“i’m serious, you look perfect.” he told you again, taking your hands in his so you were inclined to look up at him. “you’re a total vision, own it.”
as an assistant was removing the tags so you could wear it out of the store, he pointed out that there was a pair of shoes in the display window that would go perfectly with your dress 👀
and, that you might was well pick out a bag to complete the outfit :)
“matthew, you really don’t have to do th-“
“i’ve got it, honey. i asked you out, remember? it’s no trouble.”
you usually hated it when men called you honey, but for some reason, it felt good coming from him 😳
at dinner, you had an amazing time. he was so funny and interesting, you guys just clicked immediately. for a while, you actually forgot you were in a designer dress at a posh restaurant. it was just the two of you having a nice meal together.
over dessert, he asked if you’d want to keep seeing him. you weren’t too sure if you wanted a relationship just yet… partly because you still weren’t sure why he was so interested in you, and also because you had some major trust issues from your past. men tended to swoop into your life and promise you the world, only to leave once you acted like a human being instead of a pretty porcelain doll they could carry under their arm and show off.
“that’s fine honey. if you don’t want any labels, i’m cool with that. i just want to spend time with you.” he confessed, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand.
you smiled at his understanding, thinking to yourself for a moment. finally, you gave him your answer.
“what about the label ‘sugar baby?’”
he smirked, obviously pleased at your suggestion. “i can definitely be your sugar daddy, if that’s what you want.”
you nodded, and the agreement was final 💋
falling for him:
adjusting to the sugar baby life was a bit difficult at first, but it wasn’t rocket science. matthew would take you out a couple times a week and give you a base allowance, and pay for everything while you guys were out. this included food, gifts, transportation, lodging, drinks… he didn’t want you spending a single penny.
“girl put your card away, daddy’s got it.” 😤
at first you kind of felt like a financial burden, but after a while you learned that he thoroughly enjoyed spending so much money on you. it was just how he chose to show his affection! he would honestly get just as happy as you did when he bought you something you really wanted 🥰
you were too shy to just go in and buy whatever you wanted, so he would usually just give you a spending limit whenever you got to a store
he took you to the jewelry store you used to work at and bought you the necklace you had always drooled over but could never hope to afford 🥹
and of course all your old coworkers congratulated you on finding a hot sugar daddy 💀
speaking of work, it was a bit awkward to explain to your family why you weren’t working at the jewelry store anymore. but they eventually came to accept it, as long as you were safe and comfortable with this new arrangement :)
he just randomly shows up at your house and tells you to pack your bags because he just booked you guys a foreign vacation
he’ll ask you where you’ve always wanted to go and then just spontaneously buy plane tickets 😭
he likes bringing you to work events as his arm candy, making all his colleagues jealous with his beautiful baby 💋
until they stare a little bit too long, and he gets possessive 👀 he tightens his grip on your waist and grits his teeth a bit, staring at them with cold, dark eyes until they look away from you
“i just had to have the prettiest girl in the world, didn’t i? now everyone wants my girl.” he’d huff, and you’d just lean into his side, whispering little flirty comments in his ear that would settle him down
“let them stare at me, you’re the only one who gets to be my daddy.” you smirked, biting his earlobe before pulling away ❤️
he liked that a lot lmao
he also likes bringing you into the studio with him! he loves showing you his work and getting your opinion on it :)
if he ever sees you even remotely struggling with anything, he immediately offers to help, both financially and emotionally
“why are you upset baby? do you need money? hugs? both?”
what truly made you fall for him was what he did when one of your family members was sick. he walked into your apartment with a gift for you, only to see you sprawled out on the floor sobbing :(
he of course immediately ran up to you to crouch down and ask you what was wrong. you explained that your relative was sick and that you had to travel quite a long way to go to them, but you didn’t have enough money for it
he didn’t even bring up the money at first. his main focus was calming you down. he cradled you in his arms and soothingly rubbed your back, shushing you slightly and telling you everything would be okay until you stopped crying
“shh it’s okay i’ve got you, everything will be okay honey, i promise.”
once you had settled down and wiped your tears, he then reached into his pocket and just handed you his card, which he had never done before.
“i want you to take this and just go to them. don’t worry about expenses, don’t worry about me, just go see your family. i’ll be here whenever you can come back.”
you could swear a cupid’s arrow hit your heart at that exact moment. this was when you knew he cared about you as much more than just a sugar baby 💞
when you got back home, you jumped into his arms without a word and kissed him harder than you’ve ever kissed anyone in your entire life. he chuckled as you pulled back, but froze once he heard what you said next.
“can i be your girlfriend matthew? like your real one?”
he just stared at you blankly for a minute, then his face broke out into the brightest smile ever. “of course you can baby. i’ve been waiting to make this official since the day we first went out.” ❤️
NSFW: (18+/MDNI)
him fucking you while you’re wearing nothing but the diamond choker he got you
he loooooves when you tug on his hair or dig your nails into his back. he’s not a masochist by any means, but a little bit of pain always gets him going 💋
he’s a soft dom 100%, but he wouldn’t mind being on the bottom if you wanted to ride him 💞 he’ll just most likely still take on a dominant role tho
(imagine his big ass hands gripping your hips and guiding you along his cock OMG)
i honestly see him being more into obedient subs than brats, but he can handle a little bit of attitude. he wouldn’t mind throwing you over his knee and spanking you if you’ve been purposefully making him jealous
oof actually he’s not always a soft dom… every once in a while he’ll put you in cuffs and make you beg for him to touch you ⛓️
will NOT let you hide your face when you finish, he needs to see you and hear you. it’s honestly what gets him off the most, knowing that he can make you feel so good ❤️
he’s possessive af so he LOVES marking you up. he’ll shamelessly leave hickeys all over your neck and chest, and ENCOURAGE you to wear low cut tops to show them off to people 💀
looooots of car sex is his benz… the windows will be fogged up and the whole car will be shaking 👀
him buying you expensive lingerie sets and leaving them on the bed before he leaves for work, then sending you a text telling you to put it on right before he gets home 🥰
now i KNOW everyone thinks matthew is a boob guy bc he’s always talking ab man titties, but i honestly thinks he likes EVERYTHING equally 😤 boobs, waist, hips, thighs, butt… he worships ALL of it!
MASSIVE daddy kink, which pairs well with his EQUALLY MASSIVE size kink. he adores pinning your wrists down with his large hands and just hovering over you, observing how small you look underneath him
i also know this man is PACKING
“awh my poor baby, is daddy too big for you? i know my princess can take it.”
“look at you, taking daddy’s cock so well… you deserve a reward, baby. i’ll give you whatever you want, since you’re being such a good girl.”
will literally stop fucking you if you call him any name other than daddy during sex 😭 (as long as he knows you like saying it, obviously)
“come on princess, you know better than that. what’s my name? yeah, say it again. louder.”
mans is a certified munch 😛 he loves receiving oral as well, but he derives a certain type of pleasure from having his tongue on your clit
him fucking you over the balcony when you guys are on vacation in a fancy hotel (don’t try this guys it’s very dangerous LOL)
overall, he’s not into anything super crazy. he’s just a dominant guy with a lot of passion. he can go rough or mellow depending on the day. he’s not super into punishing or denying, like i said, he just wants to make you feel divine. and he wants you to know that you’re his baby, always 🥰
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lilacs-stars · 3 months ago
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the rise of red ending we deserved…
okay so hear me out, I was thinking of an alternate ending to rise of red, since the one we got was highly questionable (at best)
so red and chloe go back in time, stop bridget from turning evil, all that stuff right. and then once they come back to the opening ceremony, the queen of hearts does her little card trick and up to this point, everything’s the same.
then red approaches her, happy that their mission worked, and she’s like “mom?” and the queen of hearts turns around to face her, crinkles her brow and goes “oh, I’m sorry, have we met before?”
at the same time, chloe sees her mother’s still alive so she runs up to her to give her a hug. but cinderella turns around, confused, and says, “excuse me? do I know you?” chloe is like “wait what do you mean, I’m your daughter.” and cinderella is obviously shocked, and she’s like “I don’t have a daughter.”
AND THEN the queen of hearts walks over to cinderella, holds her hand, and says, “darling, do you know these two?” to which cinderella shakes her head no.
so basicallyy, since the prank never happened, bridget and ella went to castlecoming as planned and everything. I mean sure, ella danced with charming, but because bridget didn’t get cold and angry and never pushed ella away after that night, like she would have in the original timeline, ella and bridget remained close friends. they relied on each other, with bridget helping ella through her tough family life and ella protecting bridget from uliana.
so they grew up super close and finally, when they’re adults, got married. the movie ends with the realization that now that the prank never happened, neither red nor chloe were ever born.
and then this perfectly sets up the next movie, because red and chloe have to decide what to do. I mean they don’t even exist in this timeline anymore, their own mothers don’t remember them. but the only other option would be to go back in time and make sure bridget becomes evil, but then would it be worth sentencing her to a miserable life of hatred and loneliness, when she has everything she wants now with ella?
guys disney should have done this if they WERENT COWARDS, I mean c’mon it would’ve set up the perfect plot for d5. anyways this is just a silly little headcannon of mine hehe :))
(can you tell I absolutely love this ship? like glasshearts is good, but bridget x ella [is there a ship name for them? if there is please tell me I need to know] will forever be my otp in this fandom. like they would’ve been so good together, ella would have given bridget the world 😭 I actually NEED a scene of the queen of hearts and cinderella singing and dancing to “so this is love” like ella and charming did in the beginning of the movie. disney PLEASE IM BEGGING YOU—)
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rhettabbotts · 1 year ago
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"you've made me the happiest I've ever been" with DILF!Rhett it just screams him once he's found love again 🥹🥹
the moment i knew - dilf!rhett abbott x babysitter!reader
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pairing: dilf!rhett abbott x babysitter!reader
summary: the one where rhett finds himself falling in love again.
warnings: none. just some good ole fluff with our favorite old man.
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It was the perfect autumn day. The sun was high in the sky. There was a slight breeze through the air but your hands were warm from the hot apple cider in the paper cup you were carrying around the pumpkin patch. Grace and Ellie were walking, nearly running, ahead of you and Rhett in the corn maze. They insisted they knew which way to go and Rhett couldn’t hold back his grin every time you ran into a dead end.
“Remind me to never go anywhere with them when they start driving,” you joked, not paying attention to the way you inserted yourself into Rhett’s future. It was still new, this thing between you and him. You had not established what you were yet and here you were planning on being there when his daughters reached driving age.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-”
“Don’t apologize. I’ll be glad to have someone around to help me teach them because god knows they’ll probably give me a heart attack,” Rhett joked, his rough - much larger hand - intertwined with yours. “I haven’t seen them smile like this in a long time. They really only smile like that when you’re around.”
“Oh, I don’t think- I mean corn mazes make everyone happy. Except for the haunted ones. I could never go through a haunted one. I would probably cry-” you stopped talking when you saw Rhett’s smile. “I’m rambling again, aren’t I?”
“I love it,” he grinned, tightening his grip on your hand.
Grace was calling your name from just a few feet in front of you and she was so excited to show you the ear of purple corn she just found. You walked with her and Ellie, leaving Rhett to trail behind several paces. He couldn’t stop the way his heart fluttered watching you joke and laugh with his daughters. He thought it would’ve been impossible to find love again, especially after his nasty divorce from the girls’ mother.
You made it easy. Your smile could like up any room you walked into and you took everything with stride. You accepted him with wounded heart and the life he had built before you. And you loved his girls. That was more than he could ever ask for.
He inhaled deeply as the thought crossed his mind. It hit him like a runaway freight train. Swift and hard. He loved you. He was in love with you and he could see himself being with you for a very long time.
Rhett kept the thought to himself as you found your way out of the maze and the girls took off to the bounce house they had set up. You walked beside one another, pinkies locking and arms swinging as you made your way to a vacant hay bale.
“They’re going to be asleep the second we leave here,” you observed, smiling softly to yourself as you watched them play.
“Hey,” Rhett spoke, voice a little shaky.
“Hmm?”
“I just- I wanted to tell you that- you’ve really made such an impact on the girls. They adore you.”
“They’re the best,” you said.
“And you’ve made an impact on me, too. I haven’t felt this way in a very long time. You’ve made me the happiest I’ve ever been. I wanted you to know that. This- what we’re doing- it’s not me messing around. I’m in this.”
You fought back the tears that pricked at the corners of your eyes and you bit your wobbling lip. Heart soaring, you wrapped your arms tight around his neck. And he pulled you in closer. A hug that felt like a promise. A promise that you’d never let go of one another.
“I love you, Rhett. I’m sorry. I- I couldn’t hold that in any longer.”
“I love you too, sweetheart. Now, let’s go wrangle those turkeys.”
And as you walked back to the truck, Ellie on one hip and Grace holding your other hand, Rhett found his new beginning. With no one else other than his favorite girls in the entire world.
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tsukasalvr · 1 year ago
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Hi I would like to make a request! (idk if this is where you submit it im new to tumbler lol)
I was wondering if you could do demon slayer headcannons about what nicknames the hashira would give their children! (ex. munchkin, sweetheart, hun)
I was thinking Sanemi, Kyojuro, Uzui, Mitsuri and Shinobu if you're ok with that.
Thanks <3
AN: THIS IS SO CUTE MY HEART AHH
nicknames they would give their kids
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𝗔𝗻𝗶𝗺𝗲/𝗳𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗼𝗺: 𝗗𝗲𝗺𝗼𝗻 𝘀𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗲𝗿
Characters: Sanemi Shinazugawa, Kyojuro Rengoku, Uzui Tengen, Mitsuri Kanroji, Shinobu Kocho
Warnings: I don’t proofread, veryyy short
A/n:I hate the picture limit
Demon Slayer masterlist | Main masterlist
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Sanemi Shinazugawa
First of all, he would’ve never thought that he would have ever settle down with someone and have kids but he’s happy that he did
If it’s a boy called them little man and if it’s a girl calls her little woman just to tease them
“It’s not my fault I couldn’t just say no this little woman!” He said to you as he once again, spoiled his daughter
Never really calls them cute nicknames unless you cosider silly ones cute— such as calling them monkeys, booger, brat, and squirt
“Come on squirt, eat your vegetables and then you can have desert” he tries to bribe the child into eating the veggies
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Kyojuro Rengoku
Loves to play with his kids and calls them his little firecrackers and his little bees
“Come on firecracker, up we go!” He very loudly says as he picks up his two kids at once, one on one arm and other on his other arm, and walks over to you
Loves playing with them and loves to call them munchkins and take turns in throwing them up in the air and catching them just to see them laugh
He lives his kids dearly and sometimes calls them his little sunshine’s, especially considering that they will most likely take after his bright hair
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Uzui Tengen
Loves to play around with his kids and is very much considered a fun dad who likes to let them have as much freedom as possible
Because of his very tall and big muscular stature, he loves to let them hang of his arms and let them climb him likes he’s a tree which in turn, he calls them monkeys and koalas
Since he’s the sound hashira, he thought it was such a flamboyant idea to call them little songbirds and he thinks it’s the most genius idea he’s ever had and thinks he’s some comedic genius
“Sleep well now little songbirds, and maybe tomorrow we can go out and bother uncle Kyojuro” it’s not a maybe, it’s a definitely
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Mitsuri Kanroji
Adores her kids and thinks they’re the most cutest most lovable kids ever
Will forever baby them no matter how old they are and will definitely call them her little baby/babies and sweetheart(s)
Will coddle them forever and tries to think of the cutest names ever like doodlebug, little doves, duckies/ducklings, baby-face, babykins
The names get cheesier and cheesier and there’s no stopping her. She’s very motherly and is almost like a bear with her cubs (and there’s a new name to call them)
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Shinobu Kocho
Is super gentle with her kids and is like a mother hen watching over her chicks, and even called them chicks just to tease them
Since she’s the insect pillar, she thinks calling them doodlebug and ladybugs are the absolute cutest—but she only ever calls them this when she wants to tease them
Normally, calling them munchkins, sweetie and sweethearts are the usual and will protect them at all costs
She’s prepared for everything, a very small scrape on the knee? She has to go take care of her munchkin right away!
“You have to be careful next time sweetie!” She gently scolded her kid as she bandaged their finger even though it was only a paper cut
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sincerelyverena · 6 months ago
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Can you write for sub!Oliver? I'm so desperate seeing him squirming and whining😮‍💨
⟡⁺ RUN, BUNNY, RUN
oh hi guys its been a while ! never thought id manage to get this out but here it is, n i hope u all enjoy. ive missed each n every one of u (sorta) (joking). anyways im planning to lean in on the more multifandom aspect of my account, so youll be seeing a few different fandoms scattered around. nevertheless, give it a read! mybe itll be ur thing :] ty anon for this request, much love <3
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. . . OLIVER QUICK X FEM!READER ‘beautiful, violent, vulgar.’ @ajs-222 @michael-loves-chickens @surazim @soocore @fedyascoffin
inbox is always open to requests!
in whichꕀ
✦ ﹒oliver got what he wanted at a price.
tagsꕀ
✦ ﹒smut ﹐sub!oliver﹐dom!reader ﹐y/n catton﹐reader is a cougar ﹐oliver just cant get enough﹐reader is implied to be a shorty ﹐elspeth is a hoe﹐cunnilingus ﹐degradation﹐orgasm denial﹐marking kink ﹐lowkey blackmail ﹐farleighs there too!
ON THE HUNT FOR BETA READERS! MSG ME <3
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He reminded you of a bunny, an animal.
Oliver Quick was reticent compared to the hearty, high conversation around the table that night. He was stuck out like a sore thumb in contrast to the Cattons, a family line of the prestigious. High on the grace of themselves and each other. Blissfully unaware of anyone or anything past what they offer to their inflated egos. And who were you, to make such unprincipled claims against family? Against blood?
Mother  – Elspeth, as she insists all the children call her – had always made snide, discreet digs at you. Shielded with a manipulative curl of the whoreish pinks of her lipstick. Underneath those sly comments is a white-hot grudge, directed toward her only daughter of blood and the Catton heiress everybody just seemed to have forgotten about.
‘You only think of yourself.’ She says. 
‘You only believe you’re superior because you abandoned the only people who’ll ever care for you.’
But they never cared for you. Not in the slightest.
You were the only descendant of the new-age family line that didn’t reside under the roof of Saltburn, causing waves in the circles of old money when you took your trust fund (and dignity) in a single palm and vanished to New Mexico. 
Nevertheless, to maintain access to the trust fund, you have been spending the entirety of every summer with your bloodline you inherently disowned. Money was the bottom line, the bottom line of every transaction you make with your parents. Which wasn’t a problem in the slightest, considering in their eyes, how much you were worth was the only thing cardinal about you.
You had stayed summers long enough to recognize the twisted, Catton-branded pattern your brother, Felix, had fallen into. In your eyes, he wasn’t fit to be claimed the bloodline heir. His blood is unsavory and debilitated. During the presidency of his birth, Elspeth had been participating in affairs with men who would’ve directly tainted both the reputation of the family name. As well as the bloodline.
The crimson redness of your dagger-shaped nails clinks along the side of the thin wineglass in your palm. Those morals of clean blood had been hammered into your head for decades, no matter how much your mother preached her modernized values.
Elspeth was still the same harlot she was all those years prior. 
The exact reason why instead of disturbance, thinly veiled amusement is masked between your hues as you witnessed Elspeth’s conversation with Oliver. The wrinkle of her eye crinkled furthermore with maliciousness, masked with honeyed words. Oliver reacts in a manner especially foreign to you. The apples of his cheeks pinken as Elspeth momentarily offers a palm toward the muscle of his arm, a singular touch as Oliver’s lips clamped together. Unable to respond for a beat of a moment. The cogs behind Oliver’s eyes turn and work soundlessly, having to be coorused by Elspeth herself to respond. 
Oliver was a stark difference from Felix’s past pets, brought to the household each summer for the entertainment of all. You observe him thoroughly, without shame. Nobody would question you anyway, especially the Catton children. The food chain of the bloodline stands unquestioned with Felix toppling all competition. But you were there first, and the force of that power still stands. 
All that you knew was that Oliver would be at the very bottom. A stark, white rabbit amongst the lions and wolves. The sheep's clothing they wear? Deteriorated. 
And you’d die for a chance to snap your jaws around his neck.
Even though you were barely a decade older compared to the other descendants of the Catton name, your tastes in sexuality had simmered. You have had your fair share of flings, basking in sensual attention like how your younger relatives are receiving nowadays. 
You’ve made the stark assumption that only a few strains of men and woman could cause that familiar warmth to unfurl within the depths of her core. But you were solely mistaken, as the cobalt hues of Oliver Quick met yours. They withheld the sweetest traces of caramel that caused something to stir. Something that caused the top of your bare thighs to squeeze together absentmindedly.
Oliver’s once-pinkened cheeks redden once again. He was the first to look away.
Run, bunny, run. The words bounce around your skull aimlessly, as if the density of your head were hollow. Your only set intention was the young man across the cherry-wood table, and how your lips curl upward at the thought. 
An unmistakable atmosphere of tension ridged itself between the two. Unmistakeable enough for Oliver to virtually scramble from his chair with a lowly hinged creak as soon as the black-tie dinner was to be dismissed, disappearing into the estate’s foyer without another word. In the process, silencing the remainder of the table as they escape the metaphorical weight of their chairs.
‘Someone had to go.’ Farleigh snarks, expression feigning boredom.
Elspeth offers a scoff in turn, though the weariness of her hues twinkle with stuffed amusement. ‘Don’t be silly, Farleigh.’
On the other hand, Felix’s brow wrinkles. You tune out the roar of masculine voices and a battle of ego as the two relatives bicker over the treatment of their guests. The hypocritical bounds and leaps of their voices were enough for your meal of fancy, fickle steak and fluffy, mashed potatoes to churn in your stomach.
As much as Felix preaches for his adoration of Oliver Quick, the entire household – even the thinness of the estate walls – knows that he’s only a temporary fix to his hunger for the disadvantaged. Viewing himself as a saint, veiling the sin that reverberated inside. Even Felix is willing to slip unsavory words about Oliver’s history before their friendship, especially his mother’s drug addiction. 
You shortly realized you were the only one who hadn’t uttered a single word about Oliver. Yet, at least.  You were the only person under the Catton's roof. You’ve maintained formality, and politeness in the scarce cases of passing the salt along the length of the table. But there was nothing polite in the way the relentless azure of his eyes bored into your own, obstructing every value and moral you’ve ever known.
They always said curiosity would eventually kill the cat. The claws of your nails threaten to dig into the hitch of your thigh, deep to the point of drawn blood.
You needed to know about him.
The soles of your crimson-sheathed heels click against the top of the blemishless floorings. The space between your shoulder blades bur without missing a beat, bound to be from the hawk-eyes of Elspeth Catton and her descendants that followed. Nevertheless, you push past the judgment and persevere forward toward the same foyer Oliver had vanished into.
The double-storied entrance room was as grand as the rest of the estate. Dark 
strains of oak are the main attraction, revealing the old-money origins of Saltburn. Jars of incense sticks decorate the occasional corner, the passionate white musk filling the atmosphere, tickling the back of your throat as you inhale.
The peace-brimming silence is sliced with a stressed rummaging from the door placed offside, shielded behind the wood-trimmed stairway. You prided yourself on minding your own business, but you couldn’t help but shuffle a tad closer. Enough to catch a glimpse of a singular bead of light, trickling out of the gap the door had made.
You cursed the thrum of your heels as you ventured closer. Hand strained against the top of the engraved door, sending strained words to the universe as you threaten to inch it wider and wider open.
All that secrecy disappeared from your body at the sight of Oliver Quick. It took you a few, prolonged seconds to recognize the young man amid the shadows. The sight of his scruffy, pale knees pressed against the ground. A crown of wavy, brunette locks shielded the focused curve of his eye as he rummaged through something. You couldn’t help it, fingers curling to widen the door a little more.
Creak.
Nothing could prepare you for what you witnessed before you. Even the panicked alarm that flares in the cobalt of Oliver’s hues goes ignored as he virtually snaps his head toward you. Amid his hands, various Catton heirlooms have gone untouched. Useless to some, priceless to others, and you guessed Oliver had made his mark on that.
‘What in the world are you doing with Aunty Start’s Apollo earrings?’
The words escaped you in a rush. Who knew that that your snow-white, innocent bunny had nefarious means within the Catton family? You exaggerate aunty’s last name, a slight teetering edge of glee trickling into you at the sight of grieving recognition that filled Oliver’s eyes.
 You stepped fully into the doorway.
‘I wonder what Farleigh would think about that.’
Oliver didn’t take the threat lightly, notable by the slight shake in his voice. “You wouldn’t.” He insisted. His hands scrambled, and the box propped between his fingers slipped and clattered across the oak of the storage room’s grounding.
The sole of your heel slams against the bottom of the door, widening it entirely. You entered the room with a click of the underside of your shoes, reverberating throughout the suddenly too-cold, too-hollow room you found yourself in. The only sense of illumination is the light from the foyer, trickling into the suddenly too-compact expanse.
You crouched down. Knees hitting the base of the flooring similarly to Oliver’s own, barely a foot or two away. You could hear the tameness of his breaths. The sharp, panicked gasps and swallows that only made your lips twist upward. The threat was there, looming over Oliver’s head, choking him by the throat.
‘Maybe I will. Maybe I won’t. You decide, Ollie.’
‘How–’
The length of your fingers curled around the curve of his cheeks, pressed into the slight hollowness that would follow. Silencing him in turn. The splinters of illumination from the doorway behind them manage to offer an iridescent glow toward the plumpness of Oliver’s lips as you squeeze half of his alluring face. 
You hadn’t expected the first, proper interactions with Oliver Quick to wind up in his manner. But you have no intention to stop. The fashion in which his eyes bore into your own, gaze hawk-like as he stared down at you. Eyelashes fluttering. Pupils dilated.
A wave of awareness rolled through you at the sight. Those same splinters of warmth unfurled in the base of your abdomen.
‘What are you doing here, Oliver?’
Your digits eased around the sides of his face to allow him to speak. The cheeks you once grappled somewhat pinkened once more, face glowing under your undivided attention.
Oliver’s breaths grew slower and slower. As if your touch drunken him.
‘Felix invited me,’ his words were borderlining a whine, scrambling to explain himself. ‘For the summer.’
The base of your eyebrows drew together darkly. The amusement reverberating in your eyes dissolved into a slight annoyance. Your fingers traveled toward the curve of his chin, taking it into your possession in a rough matter it sends Oliver’s eyes to rounden in response. He was a sick, sick liar.
He corrected himself, in seconds. ‘For revenge.’
‘Revenge?’
Despite your concentration, you hadn’t realized the lack of distance placed between you and Oliver. The proximity is intoxicating. To the point in which you felt the soft exhale of his breath fan across the form of your painted lips. His scent disturbed the twist of white musk and dust in the air, catching you off guard.
You dipped your head further upward. A single breath away from his own. 
Oliver’s words scrambled from his parted lips, each syllable trembling. ‘Revenge.’ He confirmed with a singular breath.
That singular breath that was virtually snatched away from him as you captured those plump lips with your own. A warm hum of pleasure buzzes throughout your body, sensations setting your nerves on fire as your mouth brushes across his.
You retreated into yourself momentarily. Ears perked up as Oliver drew in a sharp intake of breath, eyes half-lidded and glazed over with a glimmer of euphoria. He inched forward. A small movement that confirmed the lust that sparks behind his hues. 
Honeyed heat circulated throughout your body as your lips locked with his own. Threads of that same heat were found within each movement of their mouths. Your cheeks burnt with stuffled anticipation. 
A soft, strangled noise reverberates toward the back of Oliver’s throat as your hands enter the proximity of his caramel-like locks. Soft to the touch, feathery. The pads of your fingers curled against his scalp. Curling. Tugging. Kisses growing with heat and passion, further and further until Oliver was a mess between your two palms.
Oliver virtually whined as you pulled away. The lipstick you had carefully applied the hour prior smeared across the edge of your oh-so-swollen lips.
The pad of your thumb ran across the form of your mouth, the crimson red dirting the length of her digit. She pulled a single finger along Oliver’s lips, smearing the remnants of the lipstick.
‘And what are you doing with my family’s heirlooms?’ You inquired, words soft with sensuality. Masking it with a casualty as you press onward. Thumb pressed immensely into the dimple of his cheek, ruddiness staining the ivory of his skin.
Oliver leaned into her touch. ‘I was just curious, that’s all.’
You knew that there was a nefarious nature in his intentions. You removed your hand entirely and raised to your feet on two heels. The sound of your soles meeting the oak floor echoes out, bouncing against the walls as you approach an ancient, traditional desk. Draped with a translucent cover. It was considered to be as old as the estate itself, yet you had no problem sitting all over it. 
Oliver watched in the process. Eyes rounded a remnant of a bashful doe. A spark of recognition appeared behind those eyes as you inclined a singular fingertip toward the space before you.
‘On your knees.’
You took a bound of pleasure watching as Oliver dropped before you. Those knees strained against the ground. Trickles of arousal unfolded in your abdomen, nerves set alight and anticipation fluid within you as he came eye-to-eye with the satin fabric that shielded your cunt. And it was hard to miss the stained wetness.
‘Y’know what? I don’t think Felix would be too happy if he–’
���You can suck off my brother later, but you’re serving me now. Or everyone will know whatever betrayal you’re planning against them.’
Oliver choked back any other remaining protests. Witnessing as your undergarments rolled down your hips, down the curve of your thighs, sliding along your calves, and dangling from the top of your ankle. Exposing your womanhood entirely to him, your legs widened a little further. 
At the sight, Oliver leaned forward. Willing to comply. A foreign, almost animalistic thirst reflects in the light of his hues. Only halted by a singular palm. Your fingers propped atop the strewn locks atop his head, restraining him from reaching the wetness he yearned for. 
‘I’m gonna ask you this again, and this time you’re telling me the truth, bunny.’
Your words were slow. Diligently pronounced and purposeful with each syllable.
‘What are you doing with the heirlooms?’
‘I just need–’ His words escaped in fluent gasps. Your skin prickled as Oliver’s trembling breaths fanned your womanhood. ‘I just needed some dirt on Farleigh.’
‘Oh yeah?’
The length of a singular leg of yours gradually intertwined around Oliver’s shoulders. Your hand eased up as you nudged him closer toward you. He willfully allows you to guide him, nose practically touching the top of your mound. 
His words continued with a shuddered puff, eyes virtually glazed over.
‘Something that’ll disappoint your parents.’ Oliver dwells upon his reasonings further.
‘And Felix?’
He nods.
‘You dirty,  dirty dog.’
Those words only fuelled Oliver further. And before you could even consider knowingly degrading him once more, the searing heat of his tongue is pressed against the slickness of your folds. He works his mouth against your cunt, movements growing sloppier and sloppier as he basks in the sexual validation he receives. The length of your fingers find themselves in his hair once more, fluffed, brunette strands coddled around your fist as you squeeze your legs around him.
The pleasure that you receive from his mouth alone is indescribable. Honeyed, warm ecstasy maneuvers throughout you. That familiar space between your thighs aches, even as Oliver’s lips latch onto them. Merely fuelling the fire that runs hot underneath your skin, alighting your nerves on fire.
“Fuck…” You can feel him grin around you.
A finger shortly accompanies the consumption of his tongue. And Oliver’s fingers are undeniably long, pale fleshed worked down to the knuckle with the force of a few pumps. He adds another. Then another. Stealing a moan or two from the depths of your throat, forcing you to clamp your lips shut. If anyone walked in. Your cheeks burn at the thought.
You bucked your hips into his fingers as Oliver worked you open, curling into you without faltering. Plunging his digits into you, again and again until you were breathless. Calves curled around him, guiding him further and further toward your sensitivities. Welcoming his mouth back onto you once more.
Oliver’s lips latched longingly onto the little pearl lining your entrance. He murmurs sweet nothings into you, fingers easing their pace until you can only hear the subtle quickness of your heaving breaths. And his whispers. Whispers of how wet you are, and how much he longs to quench that thirst. Again and again. On his knees, basked in his most vulnerable state.
Just for you. Oliver both in time, curls his fingers and squeezes your bud. Unleashing a wave of fire that takes you by the throat, walls squeezing around the length as you come undone. Shockwaves virtually gripping you. Tremors guide you back from your high as both grunts and moans of approval escape you.
Oliver glows under the attention. He peers up at you, through the intensity of his thick lashes. Doe eyes blinking occasionally, innocently, as he pops those fingers into his mouth where he once tasted you. Suckling. Tongue flittering around the pad of his digits.
‘You’ve done that before, haven’t you?’ Your words were more of a statement than an assumption. The pulsing of your newfound arousal doesn’t show in the slightest, only glimmering behind the intensity of your eyes.  You weren’t done with your bunny, not yet anyway.
Oliver’s fingers escape his lips with a reverberating pop. ‘Yes, ma’am.’
You reach downward briefly. Taking the lace of your panties with a single hand, guiding the garment around the base of your heels. Abandoning them on the dust-soaked floor. Those same heels meet that same grounding.
‘I didn’t take you for a fuckboy, bunny.” You practically spit, taking pride in how his eyes wobble slightly at the force of your filthy, filthy words. A short snap fills the room as you indicate your hand towards the oak tiles. 
‘On the floor.’
Oliver doesn’t say anything less, finding his body sprawled out before you. Essentially submitting himself to you in the process, something that ignites that oh-so-familiar heat in the pit of your belly. You stand over him, relinquishing in how he stares up at you, willing for you to do anything to him.
‘Pants off.’ Your words are snappy and insistent. You almost feel like that spoiled little one you used to be as a child, one who would get anything you would desire. ‘You don’t need them.’
Oliver’s fingers work to untangle his belt, loosening the dark fabric of his pants.  The material rolls down his hips, his hardness is immensely visible through the thinness of his boxers. The bulge accompanying the arousal that burns throughout your entire body, abdomen unfurling with that oh-so-familiar heat. 
You drop down toward him, legs clamped down on either side of Oliver’s thighs. You are squeezing them somewhat. The curve of your palm cups the fabriced nature of his manhood, causing a soft moan to escape him. 
‘[Y/N]...’ The broadness of Oliver’s hands grapple the frame of your hips, the warmth of his fingers curling around you. He virtually buckles up into you, against your bareness. A motion that causes your lips to curl up into a lazy smirk. 
‘Repeat my name, bunny.’ The pad of your fingers tease the rim of his boxers.
Oliver’s breath shudders. ‘I’m begging, [Y/N].’
A gradual, mocking roll of your eyes overtakes you nevertheless as you tug the thick material down. They roll and crinkle along the bottom of Oliver’s thighs, allowing for him to spring out for full reveality. For you and you alone. A low whistle fills the emptiness of the room as you observe his girth. Oliver is virtually trembling under the intensity of your gaze as you curl a fist around the length of his shaft, taking delight in how he buckled into you.
‘Be patient now.’ The words escape you with a scoff as you feign annoyance.
Oliver quietens in your demand. Alas, as you position yourself above him, you can still hear the raspiness of his breaths and the pleasure you take in the stink of desperation high in the air. He buries himself into you with a singular thrust, merely forcing a soft groan at the initial discomfort at he fills you. Stretches you out. Your hips slap against his own as you buckle up and down across his length, Oliver mimicking your movements to a tee.
You arch into him, soft noises of pleasure escaping you as he manages to claw ecstasy from you with every singular thrust. Your inner walls clutched around him, causing Oliver to drop his head back, gasping your name out as if it were a prayer. As if he were on the verge of life and death.
‘[Y/N]?’
‘Yes?’
It’s odd how the two of you presented the conversation as if you weren’t rutting your entire life and soul into him. Onto him. Oliver continues to writhe around some more, arching himself into you, again and again. The whiteness of his cheeks is notably flushed with arousal.
‘I’m about to –’
You slow down your pace until you’re merely mounting him, the lack of movement causing a groan of sexual frustration to claw from Oliver’s throat. The side of your thighs squeezes around his hips for extra exaggeration as you proceed to speak, merely unphased, even as you are reaching your release.
‘Jesus, Ollie, don’t be so fuckin’ greedy.’
You scold through hitched breath and hushed moans. His girth is warm inside you, and something about that is so utterly pleasing.
‘You aren’t to come unless you’ve pleased me enough.’
The demand causes Oliver’s head to loll back with esteemed annoyance, but he doesn’t say anything. It merely prompts the width of his hands to press into your hips, beginning to rock himself into you. It steals a moan out of your lips, but the sight of his desperation is a sight of see indeed. You arch further into him as he ruts against the exact spot that causes you to see stars.
The length of your hand folds around the back of his neck. ‘Right there, bunny, oh, you fuckin’ beast!’
Closer now. Closer now.
‘Say my name, [Y/N].’ Oliver heaves with strained breath, holding back on his orgasm has done numbers on him.
You wack him across the back of the head.
‘That’s my line, dickhead.’
Alas, the words barely escape your lips as the boiling and bubbling dam within you snaps and crashes. You dissolved into nothing but pure pleasure. Nevertheless, whatever you had said, Oliver’s name played on your lips in something that bordered screams. Tremors of ecstasy fill you as Oliver continues to pound into you, guiding you throughout your orgasm in your most vulnerable moment.
Aftershocks spark within you as you go limp, pulling yourself together with heaved breath and glazed eyes.
‘Have I pleased you enough, then?’
Oliver’s voice is hoarse, tearing you out of your orgasm-fuelled trance.
‘It’ll do, bunny.’
But before, Oliver can even consider his release. You rise from your previous position, his girth sliding out of you with ease, glistening with your slick. You tug the fabric of panties around your hips and back in place, glancing in a dust-covered mirror as you adjust your appearance. To make it seem as if you haven’t spent the past half hour having the life sucked out of you.
‘[Y/N] –’
Oliver’s protests rise in the air, falling upon deaf ears as you proceed to exit the room itself. The bottom of your heels thud against the wood-slicked tiles as you reenter the dining room, hope in hand. Your wordless wishes are fulfilled at once at the sight of Farleigh, who is window-watching, wine in hand.
‘Farleigh, thank God, I found you.’
Farleigh turns his head, bringing his glass to his lips.
‘What now?’ He’s waving away your presence entirely, it is clear.
As much as you despise this half of the family, you maintain a clear mind.
‘Oliver was rummaging through your mother’s heirlooms. I suggest you go, now. Heed my warning or not, I don’t care.’
A look of suspicion flashes across Farleigh’s face. His lips part momentarily in question before he thinks otherwise. Smart boy. Setting his wine down and immediately dashing past you. A yell or two sounds out a moment later, and your painted lips quirk upwards in pleasure.
You knew what Oliver was up to. It was clear from the first day you laid eyes upon the household’s guest. But no. It wasn’t up to Oliver to wipe out the Cattons from existence, even though he’d be doing the filthy work for you. It was admirable yes.
But it was your job. A job you strived to complete.
You slip your hand into the slight pocket in the fabric of your dress. Pulling out a small capsule. Your eyes narrow down on the glass of wine, vacant on the table. 
Starting with Farleigh. 
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WORD COUNT: 4K MASTERLIST REQ ME!
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79 notes · View notes
pynkhues · 2 years ago
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literally sooo fascinated by logan and caroline's marriage tbh. give us all your thoughts!! (if you want ahah)
Oh, man, I could talk about them all day, haha. I kinda feel like people can sometimes rob both Caroline and Logan of any nuance, because yeah, sure, they’re often the central antagonists of the series, and their abuse and neglect of their children permeates the series, but the show’s always also been careful to show that the cycle of violence never started with Logan, and Harriet Walter’s talked in interviews too about the cycle of neglect not starting with Caroline either. They’re victims and perpetrators in the same way that Kendall, Roman and Shiv are victims and perpetrators, and the fact that neither of them were able to break that cycle is the exact sort of tragedy that's at the broken heart of this series.
It makes it really fascinating to me in that sense that Caroline and Logan found each other at all, and I think really slots into what we know about his three marriages – namely, that he marries women who are in some ways as damaged by life’s cruelties as he is. We understand that explicitly with Marcia, who pretty much says out loud that their connection has been born out of the fact that they’re both survivors, but I think it’s implied in his relationships with both Caroline and Connor’s mother too. At least Marcia and Connor’s mother became somethink like partners for a while too – Marcia was a co-conspirator with Logan for the bulk of season 1, and the RECNY Ball episode I think also showed that Connor’s mother, for at least a while, was the sort of socialite who could lubricate and work politicians alongside Logan.
We don’t really know what role Caroline played in that sense, but she’s obviously intelligent and savvy enough to have worked to secure the kids real power in the divorce, something we see her give back to Logan in 3.09. We also know that her title gave Logan the class elevation that he wanted (even if its one he also seems to bitterly resent), and that his money gave her security, and in a lot of ways, that’s a strategic match that sees them both step forwards in power together.
I was actually listening to an old episode of Vanity Fair’s Succession podcast recently where they interviewed Dame Harriet Walter, and she talks quite a lot about Caroline’s backstory.
She says that Caroline was born into a neglectful aristocratic family, an only daughter who due to the social structures of British aristocracy, wouldn’t have inherited her father’s estate as a result of her gender. Instead, his estate would’ve gone to a distant male cousin, which ties into what Connor says in 1.09 to Willa about the house being the ancestral home Caroline didn't inherit.
She was disregarded by her family but encouraged to marry rich, and she sees Caroline as having gone through a bit of a wild child phase, that she partied, used drugs, tried to escape herself. That she was probably featured frequently in the social columns ‘in disgrace’, and then married young to a rich British man who bored her. She sees Caroline as having escaped to New York on a trip, and met Logan who dazzled her. Who was the opposite of the men she’d grown up with, the men who’d cut her out of her own inheritance, and that he was exciting and creating something and married too, and that they likely left their spouses for each other. That he married for a title, but he also married her because he found her fun and funny and different from the other women of her class and station.
I actually love that backstory a lot, and in particular I think it feeds into the themes of cycles on this show, both with Shiv, but also in Caroline being cut out by her own family, and then cut out by the one she tried to make for herself, and the damage that likely caused her. It also I think really beautifully depicts this idea of legacy and succession which is so crucial to the show – that Logan can spend a childhood brutalised by a man who’d give him just enough to build an empire on and that Caroline can spend a childhood in luxurious neglect with parents who will leave her with nothing.
What that meant for their relationship - - I think they did love each other, as much as they could love anyone, and I think that vulnerability between them was something that probably allowed them as true an intimacy as they’d ever have for a while. I also think that that vulnerability and that intimacy gave them power over one another that they’d use often and likely cruelly, and that the final years of their marriage were probably torturous for both of them.
After all, at the end of the day, Logan had the wealth Caroline could marry but never inherit, and Caroline had the title Logan could marry but never inherit, and what is that if not a reminder of the poisoned soil they sprung from?
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ophelieverse · 2 years ago
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Babes can you please write an imagine where instead of Aegon iii is Y/n,his older sister,Rhaenyra and Daemon daughter to sit on the throne in the end?Also it can be a Aemond x reader where he puts the crown on her and he’s more than happy to become the Queen consort?
❥Forever may she reign: “little dragon”
Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader
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I loved this request,i’ve decided to come back after the holidays with this so i hope y’all like it!💕💕I will make a part 2,cause i got a little carried away,sorry.Reader is a Targaryen so she will have their features,also incest(uncle x niece)if this makes you uncomfortable do not read,age gap and some spoilers.Thanks for requesting and let me know what you think💕
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Some children come to the world to change it forever,to leave their name behind in history others are simply born with tragedy in their veins.Madness and greatness are two sides of the same coin.Her mother always used to tell her:
«Every time a new Targaryen is born,the gods toss the coin in the air and the world holds its breath to see how it will land.»but every child knows that the Targaryens have always danced too close to madness.
Y/n had learned that in life there were things that she was looking for and others that come to look for her.She didn't choose them and she wouldn't want them either,but they came and at that point she was no longer the same.So now there was two solutions:either she run away trying to leave them behind or she would stop and face them.Whichever option she would choose would’ve changed her,whether for better or for worse depends on her,on how she would’ve reacted.
She wasn’t prepared for this,all the hours and days that she had spent studying wouldn’t made up for what she was named to face.It's was all about making a choice,choosing the right thing to do.It seems easy to say that,but,for her it was not at all.It involved taking full responsibility for the consequences generated by every single decision she would’ve made and accepting the risk.
In only three years everything she had knew and held dear to her heart,changed completely.But that’s how’s life was supposed to be wasn’t it?She changed herself and everything changed around her,sometimes faster sometimes more slowly,sometimes more obviously others in a more cautious,careful way, without realizing it.Every change was a kind of little death,she had found herself having to leave something,something that for her had become a reference to look at a future that seemed rosy to her.
In between madness and greatness,Y/n Targaryen was born nine months after the wedding between Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen,heir to the Iron Throne,and Prince Daemon Targaryen,the Rogue Prince,brother of the King.
The young princess was a beautiful girl,with dark purple eyes which looked almost black,and silver hair which was so pale that looked almost white.The gods gifted her with the beauty of a true Targaryen.She was born in King’s Landing,to grant the final wishes of her old grandfather the King,the first day of the Long Summer,giving her the name of “The realm sun”.
While everyone in the Capital were celebrating the birth of her only daughter,Rhaenyra had wrapped her in a dark cloth,keeping her warm and safe to her breast«Your brothers are sons of the realm»she had whispered,eyes foggy with tears and face hurting for the big smile on her lips,«but you,my Y/n,my beautiful daughter,shall be all mine.»words were not enough to express the unconditional love that existed between a mother and a daughter.
A mother’s treasure is her daughter and growing up from the sweet little girl that her mother had,so much,dreamed and wished for,Y/n knew that she was different.She was a bright girl and noticed thing rather quickly,while she had been born with the Valyrian silver hair, her three older brothers all had dark brown locks on their head.While Jacaerys and Lucerys,both betrothed to her older sisters Baela and Rhaena,were named heirs,to the throne and to Driftmark,Y/n was to be someone wife.
She wasn’t born to rule,to wear a crown on her head,to sit on some important chair and to hold an important position.She was born to be her mother’s daughter,the most precious thing that Rhaenyra had and always dreamt of.She had spent her days in the Red Keep,with her family,under the loving care of her mother who seemed to have eyes only for her,and when she wasn’t at the Dragonpit with her dragon Merax,she often found herself walking in the shadows of the throne room.
Her mother was named heir moons ago and after her the throne would’ve had passed to Jacaerys,then his children and so on.Y/n had just to look pretty,to be eloquent and kind to be married to a fine a suitable husband when her age would’ve come.
It was her duty,as the only daughter of the future Queen,she had knew that since she was just a child thanks to her mother tenderness,her father overprotection and for all the hours she had spent in her room with her Septa.She knew that,but he had ruined it all for her.
Aemond,her uncle,her mother younger half brother,a man who was much older than her,was the bane of her existence and the only object of her desires.She had thoughts about him that she couldn't control and he followed them all.Whatever she felt,whatever she wanted he followed her.And in that moment,all the things that she knew about herself disappeared.She acted like another person,yet she felt like she had never been so herself until then.
In the beginning she wasn’t actually in love with him,but she had always felt a kind of tender curiosity towards his dark a mysterious figure.Of his long pale hair,his sharp jaw,the shape of his beautiful,the way he stood there composed and quiet.
Her uncle had always been nothing but kind and tender towards her.In the long summer days he knew how to peal oranges neatly,her favorite fruits,the section came apart cleanly,perfectly in his hands.When Y/n,sitting next to him at the table,tried to peal her own oranges she would tears holes in it.Juice squirts in all directions,leaving her with a pout on her lips and teary eyes.
«Uncle»she would’ve cried«I don’t know how to do it!»
Aemond would’ve then gave her his oranges,completely without the peal,telling her that one day he would teach how to do it alone but she hoped he would never did.In the intimacy of little moments like that,she had soon realized that he was her favorite person.As a child she had always searched for the meaning of it all,the big “Why?”.Her father often told her that there was no big purpose,but that day she had the most delicious orange and kissed Aemond on the cheek for good night,being around him,she thought,was enough purpose for her.
The memory of the public rejection still rankled,even after all these years.Many a night she had watched prince Aemond in the halls,training with the sword and studying history and philosophy.Had any man ever been so beautiful?He was more than a man,though.Just like hers,his blood was the blood of old Valyria,the blood of dragons and gods.
When Y/n was just a little girl,her mother had promised her that she would marry Aemond. She could not have been more than four or five.«Never speak of it,my sweet girl.»her mother had told her,smiling her secret smile that only Y/n ever saw«Not until His Grace agrees to the betrothal.It must remain our secret for now.»And so it had,though once she had drawn a picture of herself flying behind Aemond on a dragon,her arms wrapped tight about his chest.When Jacaerys had discovered it she told him it was Queen Alysanne and King Jaehaerys.
She was seven when she felt it for the first time,the little vibrant spark in her chest,the sweaty hands,watching her prince in the flash again after her family moved from Dragon Stone back to the Red Keep.He was a handsome boy,almost a man with the most elegant demeanor she had ever the pleasure to witness.She had spent all her days in the Dragonpit with him,Y/n was still very young,just a little girl who eager to learn and to be able to fly to suppress Aegon cruel jokes about her not being a true dragon.
Her dragon,Merax,a dark blue female dragon with big horns on her head,was still too young to for the princess to ride her.But that didn’t seem to stop her,to put her desire to be like everyone else in her family.One morning as she tried to sneaking out from the Red Keep,a dark red cloak on her shoulders,a heavy hand was placed on her head.
«Little dragon,don’t go too far.»the beautiful voice of her uncle ringed in her ear,as she stumbled to walk away from his grasp.
«Leave me alone,i’ll go wherever i wish to!»she protested,now in the middle of the city chaos.
«Y/N… Don’t be so childish and come back here.»he called after her again with a sight.
«I don’t-»she tried to say,walking slower and bumping into people.
Aemond was finally able to reach for her,to grab her by her arm and keep her close to his body«Little dragon.I don't like to repeat myself. You stay where I can protect you.»gods be goods,he wouldn’t even imagine what could’ve happened to a child,a princess,in the streets outside the castle if he wasn’t there.
Thinking that she was in trouble and that her uncle was mad at her,Y/n sniffled in his arms«I’m sorry,i just wanted to fly like you.»she had cried out,pressing her hands on her eyes.
He smiled,understanding a little too well the feeling that was causing her such discomfort and,unlike his parents,he really wanted to do something to put a smile back on her little face.
«I’ll take you flying.»Aemond told her,holding her hand trough the crowd«Vhagar can’t wait to see her favorite princess again.»he continued making her giggle.
«She’s been following you everywhere like a lost puppy.»she had heard the same night,the drunken laughing of Aegon,the uncle that she despised the most«It’s seems like you got yourself a wife finally!»he jokes again,stinking of wine and with the cheeks redden by the alcohol.
Aemond didn’t drink that night,he was sitting with his older brother just because his mother forced him to«Are you jealous,brother?»he asked with a low voice.
Aegon almost choked,putting his golden cup on the wooden table«Jealous?She’s an idiot.»he answered,like he wasn’t already making fool of himself by spilling the rest of the wine on his chest.
«Y/n is young,but she is the most intelligent person i’ve ever met.»Aemond correct him,a stern look on his face lit by the candle lights«Unlike you she knows when its to speak or to keep her mouth shut.»he continued.
«That’s mean you are really considering the idea to marry her?»Aegon ignored the offense,too drunk to care,while a servant was fetching him another cup.
Aemond stayed quiet for a bit,she was still a child and he was a grown boy,he was her uncle and he brother had took his eye but«I will if one day they decide to betroth us,fulfill my duty to keep our Valyrian blood pure.»but what made her heart race in her chest with a new exploding sensation was«I’d tear down the whole sky for her,if she asked me.»
When she was eleven she finally understood,the sweaty hands,the heart beating fast,the nervousness in her veins when he was close to her.Her uncle had been away for one of his travels for just three days,flying to Essos,and she missed him dearly.She understood when its hard saying goodbye to that person,even for a short time,when everything seems to revolve around him,all that she could ever think is him.From when she woke up,til that time she was about to sleep,when everything about him feels so good and right,when even the worst days becomes great just cause that person is there.One single smile,melted her heart,one frown,made her heart ache.When even the things she used to hate,instantly becomes her favorites.Her patience becomes longer,times with him,feels time flies so fast,but hours without him feels like months.
«I brought you something.»Aemond had told her,his tongue rolling around each word he spoke in Valyrian.
He only spoke it with her,he had personal offered himself to the Septa,to be his niece teacher and it made her feel special.
«You didn’t need to.»Y/n answered in Valyrian,her cheeks were as red as the beautiful long dress she was wearing and she thanked the gods that no one was around,in the empty and cold halls of the castle,to witness that moment.
Her uncle had came back later in the evening and as soon as she heard the news from her sister Rhaena,she fled from her presence and ran trough the corridors to find him.She wanted to be the first one to greet him and he had the same idea,bumping in each other on the stairs as they tried to be with the other.
Aemond suppressed a laugh in his chest«I know»he said nodding,then switching to the Westerosi language once again.«But this made me think of you.»from his pocket,a shiny necklace was dangling in between his long fingers.
Y/n hand reached in front of her,tracing with her fingers the cold metal«Valyrian steel.»she noticed out loud.
«A little dragon for my little dragon.»Aemond murmured high enough,only for her to hear,addressing her with the nickname he always used to call her.
«It’s beautiful.»she breathed out,her heart was beating fast and a warm sensation was spreading all over her chest,her back and her neck when she noticed the little dragon pendant with red rubies on it.
He smiled,nodding his head,happy to know that she liked his present even though that a small steel dragon was nothing compared on her glowing beauty«Turn around.»he ordered then,moving her long pale hair to the side and placing the necklace on her pure and delicate neck«So that whenever i’m away,you’ll find me right here with you.»he said with a calm voice that put her at ease once again.
Thirteen and new to womanhood,princess Y/n wore a beautiful azure dress with golden embroiderers on it.Long streamers of red and gold and orange silk had been braided in her hair like flames,during her Name Day a tournament was hosted and Aemond,who never cared of these sort of things,attended as a knight,wearing a dark green plate over golden ringmail when he cantered onto the lists.Her two older brothers,Jacaerys and Lucerys,fell before his lance,along with a dozen of the finest jousters of the realm.
Her mother had confided that truth to her before the tourney«You must be especially beautiful,»Rhaenyra had told her,fussing with her dress,«for at the final feast it shall be announced that you and Prince Aemond are betrothed.»in her mother she could hear and feel the desire to bring the family back together as one.
Y/n had been so happy that day,but her laughter died at the tourney end.
By night she was alone with him in the gardens,while he read out loud one his books.When she was in his presence,Y/n had almost drowned in the depths of his sad purple eyes.He has been wounded,she remembered even though she was just a small child when it happened,but she would mend his hurt when they will be wed.Next to Aemond,even her brothers had seemed no more than callow boys.Her uncle was going to be her husband, she had thought,giddy with excitement,and they were going to be very happy together.
There had been no final feast,no toasts to celebrate her betrothal to Aemond.Only cold silences and chilly looks between the Queen and her mother.Later,when the Queen and her son and all her gallant knights had departed,the girl had gone to her mother in tears,not understanding.
«I proposed the match,»Rhaenyra told her,«but your father and Alicent refused to hear of it.»she explained.
Her father,Daemon,would’ve rather die or feed his youngest daughter to his dragon than see her married to one of the Hightower kids.Queen Alicent had the same idea,the thought of her favorite child being promised to what came out from her once best friend and the rogue prince made her sick.
«Dry those tears,my sweet girl.»her mother held her lovingly in her safe embrace.«Have you ever seen a dragon weep?Your father and i will find another man for you,a better man than Aemond.»she reassured her,caressing her back.
Princess Y/n was sixteen now,only sixteen,a child-woman of surpassing loveliness when she had realized that her mother lied.That her father failed her and that Aemond was failing her now.Her parents did not found a better man,they wanted to give her Cregan Stark,son of Lord Rickon Stark and heir of Winterfell.She had never seen him in o person,only heard stories about the young wolf in the north,but that’s was enough for her to know that he couldn’t compare with Aemond in any way.
Y/n wanted to be loved,she was supposed to.She was the most beautiful girl in the whole Westeros,she was kind,intelligent,full of life and brought light whenever she went.But how selfish it was for her to crave someone in that way,like he was hers to love at all.She didn't wanted to go through that awkward phase of getting to know to someone.She just wanted to lay her head on Aemond lap and feel his fingers running through her hair.
«I don’t want to marry some Lord son»Y/n said,she was standing in her father presence,the same touch of fire in her tongue«I want to chose who to be promised to.»she informed him.
«Silly girl.»her father told her the same night he revealed her his plan for her betrothal«You think this is what you want,but you don’t understand how much it will hurt.»shaking his head,refusing to her the name of one of Alicent children coming from her mouth.
For Daemon,his youngest daughter was just a little girl with a stupid crush.But it wasn’t just a crush and it wasn’t even stupid,she knew what she felt for Aemond and it was too big and too important to be called that.
«You married my mother for love.»she remained him,her voice firm and strong.
«Have you ever been in love?»her father asked her suddenly,sitting in his chair in his chambers.
Before Y/n could speak,her father did it for her«Horrible isn't it?It makes you so vulnerable.It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up.»Daemon told her,sounding sour.
Not all love is gentle.Sometimes is gritty and dirty and possessive,sometimes is hurtful and rough.Other times it’s not supposed to be soft and carefully at all.Sometimes it feels like teeth,broken glasses and bloody knuckles.
But«I’m willing to pay the price if that mean i can love and be loved by who i want.»she said,swallowing the hard lump in her throat.
Her father scoffed«The problem with you is that you always want to be loved immediately.Cregan Stark will learn how to and you will give him the time to do so.»he firmly said.
Aemond had found her that same night,hidden in the library,sitting at their special place.Gone was the little girl that used to jump in her chair while he read for her,the whining princess whenever she couldn’t pronunce correctly a word in Valyrian.Princess Y/n was a young woman now,gifted by the gods with the most beautiful pair of rosy cheeks,the most bright smile and delicate and soft skin.
He wished he had both of his eyes,full vision to take in all of her beauty.He had witnessed her changing trough the years, “The realm sun”she is ever the beautiful one,as lovely as a flower and more vibrant than the sun.
«Are you enjoying the book i lend you?»his voice was warm and delicate,it surprised her when she felt him coming closer but she didn’t flinch,feeling safe around him.
Y/n was sitting in her chair,her back towards the door,a book in her hands«Not much.»she mumbled out,while her hand supported her head from falling on the table.
Aemond chuckled,taking a sit in front of her«It gets better i promise.»he reassured.
She huffed,only now he noticed,under the candle soft light,the way she was playing with her necklace.How her fingers traced carefully the cold steel,it made him feel warm on the inside and he knew it was wrong.He was her uncle,he was much older than her but even though he was ready to marry her if they had betrothed them,now he couldn’t.
Y/n was promised to Cregan Stark and he was promised to Cassandra Baratheon,the eldest daughter of Lord Borros Baratheon and one of the Four Storms of Storm End.
«I don’t think so.»Y/n said,turning another page«I’m almost at the end and they are still not together.»she informed him,her eyes not leaving her book.
«Sometimes,not matter how much we try,two people can’t just be together.»he admitted,his words were heavy just like the air in his lungs.
She shifted in her chair,her purple eyes were now on him and he felt himself lit on a flame.He was a dragon and dragons doesn’t burn,but she had bewitched him,body and soul,just a look was enough to start a fire in him,a touch to leave him in the ashes of what he was used to be before her.
«Don’t you find it sad?»Y/n was fidgeting with her fingers,her lips trembled a bit.
«What?»he asked,laying on the chair.
«That’s sometimes even love is not enough.»she stated,a melancholy veil covered her beautiful features.
«What its love for you?»he asked then suddenly,his fingers shook with the wish to know.
Y/n remained quiet for a few seconds,her eyes never once faltered away from his.She could fel her own heartbeat ringing in her ears,her throat dry and her lips glued to each other but before she could think,words came out from her mouth:
«Once i read in a history book about a woman who ran to pick up the severed head of her husband in her skirt.»she started to explain,pausing for a moment«When i was little it was too gruesome for me and i couldn’t understand,her husband was a horrible man who killed thousands of innocent people.»she remembered,watching the way her uncle was listening close,she continued«But now that I’m older I think that,yes,i would pick it up too.I have to pick it up,i can’t let it fall to the ground so i would’ve run to catch it with my skirt.»her words were full of tenderness and softness,it made her heart ache.
Aemond looked at her,amused and understanding completely her point of view but he had to ask«And why would you do that?»
«I think in the space that someone create in love,you can say and do anything and i will not abandon you.»she said«Tell me all the worst thing you have done and let me love you anyway.»she didn’t wanted to beg.She knew that Aemond could feel it,her longing,her need for love.She didn’t wanted to beg,but gods,couldn’t he just love her a little?
«What about you?»she asked when he didn’t said anything.
His idea of love was not as deep as hers,it was something simple,something daily that he experienced with her.While he was looking at her,sitting in front of her,he was thinking about back hugs,when someone comes up and hugs some else from behind,taking them by surprise.
The back is considered a weak point in the human body.It's unguarded,vulnerable,and there's a reason that a euphemism for betrayals is being stabbed in the back.
But then he imagined loving someone enough that when she hug him,enveloping him in her arms unawares,starting from the part of his body that is always dangerously exposed,and he was so comforted by the smell of her and the warmth of her and he felt so cherished and experience a sense of security so deep and so immense that even if he was in the world's most massive fortress nothing could make him feel safer than being in the arms of his lover.
«You.»he answered simply,without stuttering,without regret.
Y/n eyes became big like cups of tea,her mouth parted slightly and her cheeks were on fire just like the rest of her«Me?»she sounded surprised,making him winch a little.
«Yes.»he nodded,his voice just a mere whisper as he stood up walking towards her.
But love had always been something heavy for him.Something that he had to carry. However,his soul was so shaken that he never told his love,he never revealed how absolutely that girl,his niece,had taken possession of his soul.
Aemond cupped her cheek,stroking the soft and warm texture of her skin with his fingers.His thumb hovering on her bottom lip,he knew he had no right to touch her,crave her like air,but he did both.And when he put his mouth on hers,he recognized the taste of her,like she’s been made just for him.
«When we are together,life just seems so right..you know?»he breathed against her lips,his eye closed just like hers«Is it the same for you?I hope it is.»he felt her nod aggressively,placing her hands on his and pulling him against her for another kiss.
It started many months ago,a unrequited and secret love story that was destined to end together with the long winter,when both Y/n and Aemond would’ve married to different people.Invisible to everyone else,intimate touches.Touches without a reasons.Simple extensions of his love.He doesn’t think about it. His hand on her back,his lips on her shoulders.Temporary,brief gestures.That´s how he communicates.By these touches only she knew existed.
The first day of the summer,a sunny and warm morning,where the air smelled of flowers and fruits and everything shined under the glowing sun,Y/n held a old vase in her hands.The same vase that Queen Alicent had gifted her mother and that the young princess and her uncle had broken once,stumbling in her room while kissing each other and without noticing where they were going.
«Why do you enjoy walking outside so much?»Aemond asked,he trailed after her,his boots marching on pavement with every step he took.
«It gives me time to think.»Y/n simply stated,on her beautiful face a little smile that reflected the sunlight on her rosy cheeks.
He nodded,keeping his eye on her smaller figure.Memorizing every detail of her,barefoot walking in the nature,of the way her long pale hair bounced in the warm air with every step,the little flowers embroidered on her pink dress,the way her hands were holding the little porcelain vase as if she was afraid to drop it once again.
«And why did you ask me to come with you?»his voice was firm,hiding under his tongue and in his chest,the spark he felt whenever she was close to him,whenever she wanted him to be in her presence.
«My thoughts are much nicer when you are with me.»she shyly admitted,her voice was soft and he almost didn’t heard her,but he noticed the way her shoulder shook and how she tucked her head down.
He laughed under his breath,just the night before she had kissed him and slept peacefully in his arms and now she felt embarrassed about her feelings.
The gardens were beautiful that time of the year,different flowers blossomed on the bushes,little birds chirped in the trees«It’s really a beautiful day.»he lied,he knew exactly why they were outside and what they were going to talk about.
«Everything is different with the sun.»she told him,placing the vase on the ground and starting to pick up some flowers for it.
«It’s warmer.»he sarcastically noticed,making her chuckle.
«And our armors will melt,revealing who we really are.That part of us that we keep in the shadows that search for light.»she quoted one of their favorite books,while holding two daisies and a orange rose in her hand.
«That’s mean that you are going to tell what’s been bothering you all morning?»Aemond said,crossing his arms behind his back and a serious expression on his face.
Y/n swallowed hard,she had breakfast with her mother only a few hours before.They were alone in the terrace,the round table filled with her favorite sweetnesses but she didn’t touched any.She and her mother understand each other but she doesn’t think that they want to.Rhaenyra sorrows and regrets,Y/n dreams and hopes,mirrored eachother like night and day but the mirror is cracked and god she wished she didn't see her mother face staring back from the mirror she tried to see herself.
«Before your father»her mother started with a calm voice«i was married for duty too and it was a happy and loving one.I’m sure that Cregan Stark will be an amazing husband one day.»she tried to reassure her with a loving smile and caressing her arm softly.
«But if you were really happy with Ser Laenor you wouldn’t needed Ser Harwin.»Y/n said,she felt terrible for aiming to that spot but it was the truth.
«Y/n!»her mother immediately scolded,looking around to make sure no one had heard.
The young princess took a deep breath«I apologize.»she said quietly«But loving someone,and being loved means so much to me.I always been like this,but isn’t everything we’re doing in life a way to be loved a little more?»she asked like as if her mother had the right answer.
«For you,it’s not just “loving someone and being loved by someone.»her mother made her noticed,«For you is to love him and being loved by him,trust me i’ve been there and i really wish i could change everything to see you happy.»Rhaenyra sounded like she was about to cry,nothing was more important for her than her daughter happiness«But i can’t,sweet girl,i’ve already tried.Cregan Stark will come here tonight to know you so that by the mid summer you can marry him.»both of their hearts breaking at her words.
Y/n was sitting on the warm grass,remembering her mother heavy words and feeling the tears coming to her eyes again.Of course her mother knew,she had knew her better than anyone else,she had been in her same situations years ago and kept her daughter secret close and dear to her.All the time that she would’ve look at her,sitting beside her younger brother,the lovesick expression on her face,the gleaming light in her eyes,it made her chest hurt to know that in just a little time that would’ve disappeared.
«The problem with me is that i always want to be loved.»she murmured out,keeping her eyes on the ground.
Repeating her father words,out loud and not just in her head like she did all the morning,made her heart ache in her chest and her lips tremble.
Aemond nodded,humming quietly as he took a place next her on the warm grass«Isn’t this what everyone wants?»he asked,not truly understanding his niece words.
She expected too much,from life,from Aemond,from her family,from everyone she knew.It was her curse,to want to be loved just as much as she did and having a sentimental view of life.
«Is it wrong to want to feel loved?»she asked,hugging her knees tightly to her chest as the steams of grass rubbed her bare legs.
«Not at all.»He replied,leaning back nonchalantly
She forced a smile on her lips«Then why does it feel like it is?»
He sighed,pondering the question for a moment before replying.«I think we all believe things that aren’t true to compensate for what we’ve been told to make it more believable.»he told her sincerely,the turned towards her,his gaze softening«It’s never wrong to want to be loved.»
She looked at him for a moment,a small smile spreading across her face.«I wish you were always this nice»she laughed quietly.
His gaze fell downwards as a smirk made its way to his mouth.«Only for you.»
And it was,all his comforting words,all the small gesture,the act of affirmation,the sweet way of making sure that she was always alright and safe in the room.All his heart was her.For him princess Y/n was a different matter.Aemond spent long hours in her company,enthralling her with tales of his journeys and reading for her.He gave her pearls and silks and books and a jade tiara said once to have belonged to the places he had visited,read poems to her,dined with her,hawked with her,sailed with her,entertained her by making mock of his brother drunken demeanor.He praised her beauty,declaring her to be the fairest maid in all the Seven Kingdoms.Uncle and niece began to fly together almost daily,racing Merax against Vhagar to Dragonstone and back.
He held her secretly,possessively,in his heart with such a strength of passion that at times it was hard to believe that she was a separate person with other concerns who will never knew about how he really felt.He had a secret in his heart that beats with her name and that agitation turns on his tongue like a thousand swallows eager for flight when laid his eye upon her. 
«Cregan Stark will come here today»she said suddenly,just like an harsh slap on his face,he jolted at her words.
«The flowers are for him?»was the only thing he managed to say,all the other words were stuck in his throat and burning his lips.
Y/n nodded,playing with the petal of a daisy«Father said i had look happy to meet him.»but her expression and her voice were far from it.
«Forgive me,princess,but you are not doing a great job.»he tried to sound like s jester,to crack a joke to light up her mood and to cancel the little pout on her pretty lips.
Y/n didn’t smiled,shaking her head«I know this is my duty.»everyone kept repeating that«but i’d rather serve the realm as a knight with a sword that marry someone that i don’t even know.»she said,keeping her eyes on the ground.
«I’ve trained you well enough»Aemond though out loud,a spark of pride in him«You can easily win a fight with a wooden sword.»he continued with a small smile.
This time she did it too,her perfectly white teeth shined under the sunlight remembering all the evenings that she had spent training with him in secret«I wish i could create a new order of things.My mother tried,but if i was to be the-»
Y/n stopped herself,her lips still parted,the next big word just on the tip of her tongue,her purple eyes widened at the thought she was about to reveal out loud for the first time.Ever since she was a small child her mother used to held her in her arms,walking in the halls of the castle till the throne room.There the young princess had heard stories,coming from her mother mouth,about all their ancestors.Kings and Queens that ruled Westeros before she was born,great warriors,black brides,death of children,legacies till her.She wasn’t born to be part of it,maybe her names would’ve been remembered to have been the daughter of the first female heir or because she would’ve become the Lady of the North.
She loved her older brother Jacaerys dearly,he was kind,dutifully,generous but sometimes she wished that she was born before him.She knew that like this her mother would’ve named her to inherit the throne after her and…but then Y/n remembered,that maybe it was just supposed to be like this.That was the order of things.
«Wearing a crown is a very lonely thing.»Aemond stated quietly«All thrones come at a cost.»he had the same desire once,hearing the whispers of his grandfather and his mother about his older brother when he,the perfect son,was there.
«Then why don’t we run away?»she asked him,her lips trembled and the tip of her nose was red,her hands caressing his.
Aemond force a smile on his handsome face,his heart hurts,clenching with every word that came out from her mouth«You know why,little dragon.Our parents-»but she didn’t let him finish.
Shaking her head«You are the only one keeping us from getting together.»she told him then,her voice sounded sour and her eyes were gleaming,holding back the little tears.
Y/n didn’t needed him to shout that he loved her to each of the four winds.She preferred the silent whisper voiced within his heart,reflected in his eyes.She didn’t needed to flaunt that she loved him and write it up in the sky;the stars have already granted her wish so she kept it hidden like a treasure within herself.What is held inside the world cannot taint.It is best for them to ignore what is a secret held only between their souls.But what she needed was to be free to love him without feeling guilty,without being afraid of being discovered,free to run to him and kiss him in front of everyone.
«It’s not like I don’t want to but you know-»Aemond tried to make her understand,the situation was bigger than both of them and maybe he shouldn’t moved towards her since the beginning but she had taunted his dreams every night in the last years.
«Don’t.»she shook her head,the flowers in her hands long forgotten on the grass«All those things,those excuses,they'll still be there tomorrow,next week and next year.Stop living in your head.Please.Let’s live.Live for us.For our dreams.Let's live our life.»she pleaded,she sounded ridiculous and pathetic but she didn’t care,that was her only demand.
Ever since he was a child,Aemond was very often full of rage and despair.He was always lonely.In spite of all that he was and is now in love with life.He made up stories and forgot about the cold and the dark.He knew these were ways of surviving,but maybe a refusal,any refusal,to be broken lets in enough light and air to keep believing in the world – the dream of escape.He wished he could catch this opportunity in his hands,to be with the person that he loved.
«I know how you feel,but you should marry him.»he said,his eyes was gleaming«i’ll always be here,you know that.»he reassured.
He tried to reach out for Y/n,to see the look in her eyes or to held her close to him.But she stood up,he saw her cleaning her dress and then her cheeks with the back of her hands,she had cried,he heard the little suffocated sniffing witnessed her shaking shoulders.
«I wish you never kissed me in the library.»she was hurt and he was hurting with her.
«Don’t say that.»he got up too,walking fast after her as she made her way to the fountain.
«Why?You said you know how i felt,well here’s another clue:I wish I never met you!»she choked out,not caring if some of the guards or someone else would’ve heard her.
Aemond grabbed her by the arm,spinning her around to face him again.Her nose was red,just like her watery eyes and a painful frown took place were her bright smile was used to be.It hurt him to see her like that,especially knowing he had caused it.
«Did you think I kissed you all these times because I was doing it for the shits and giggles?»he asked,raising a brow.
She scoffed,tried to free herself from his iron grip without success«You did have a lot of fun shoving your tongue down my throat in private.»she reminded him,her cheeks on fire at the thought.
Aemond had put his arms around her,she didn’t fought him this time,letting herself be drowned in his chest as he held her close lulling her to the rhythm of his heart«You know i love you.I’m never going to feel the same way for someone else but sometimes love is not enough.»he had whispered in her hair,a single tear falling from his eye.
That love wasn’t enough she had learned it at her own price.If it was enough to keep a family together,she wouldn’t be who she was now and she surely wouldn’t have to do all the horrible things that kept her up at night.
That day in the gardens was the last time that she saw Aemond and the last time that she seat down at a table with all her family reunited and alive.After her grandfather death,her uncle Aegon was proclaimed king in the Dragonpit,her mother Rhaenyra queen at Dragonstone.All attempts at reconciliation having failed,with the blood of innocent children the Dance of the Dragons actually began.
Y/n had fought nobly,gracefully and with greatness on top of her dragon along her siblings to defend her mother birthright.One by one she had watched all the people that she loved,fall to the ground like flies.After the death of her three older sons,Jace,Luke and Joffrey,the disappearance of her younger one Viserys,in King's Landing,each new betrayal left Queen Rhaenyra increasingly isolated with only her daughter and son,Aegon the Younger,to trust.
Helaena Targaryen,sister,wife and queen of King Aegon II as well as mother of his children,threw herself from a window of Maegor's Keep and died impaled on the iron rams along the surrounding dry moat.She was barely thirty.Queen Helaena had been murdered,it was whispered,and her children before her.Prince Daeron and his dragons would soon arrive at the city gates,and with them the end of Rhaenyra's reign.The elder Queen was hated for it,Queen Helaena was very loved and the people didn’t forget the cruel murder of Prince Jaehaerys by Blood and Cheese,and the terrible death of Prince Maelor.
The throne room was silent,dark and cold,Y/n was wearing her battle armor with her mother banner on it and a black cloak on her shoulders.Her once long hair were cut short and braided to not let them fall in front of her stoic face,her gleaming and loving eyes now distant and filled with all the moments of horrors that she had witnessed and committed.
«There is something that i need to tell you.It might be difficult for you to understand but you must hear it.»her mother was the ghost of what she once was,paler,thinner,her eyes always burning with tears as she spoke quietly.
«What is it,mother?»Y/n asked,her eyes still fixed upon the throne.
Rhaenyra was beside her,not sitting on that old chair anymore«Our histories,they tells us that Aegon the Conqueror looked across the Blackwater from Dragonstone and saw a rich land ripe for the capture.»she started to tell like an old fairytale that her father had told her once«But ambition alone is not what drove him and his sisters to conquest.It was a dream.»her mother swallowed,fidgeting with her fingers at each word.
«A dream?»the young princess echoed,she knew that her family was famous for having dreamers.
Her mother nodded quickly,tracing her eyes in the room to make sure that nobody was present to hear them«Just as Daenys foresaw the end of Valyria,Aegon foresaw the end of the world of men.’Tis to begin with a terrible winter,gusting out of the distant north.»she explained,taking her daughter hands in hers.
«Wh-hat?»Y/n didn’t even known what she wanted to say,stuttering words out as chilly shivers run down her spine.
«Aegon saw absolute darkness riding on those winds and whatever dwells within will destroy the world of the living.»her mother tried to mask the fear in her quivering voice with a serious expression on her face.
«How…how can we stop it?We are in the middle of a war!Mother,i don’t know-»Y/n brain was melting,in those long and cruel three years of civil war she couldn’t understand nothing anymore.
Rhaenyra shushed her immediately,caressing both of her arms with the same tenderness that she had never lost«When this Great Winter comes,Y/n,all of Westeros must stand against it.»she said,looking straight in her daughter eyes«And for the world of men to survive a Targaryen must seat on the Iron Throne.A King or a Queen,strong enough to reunite the realm against the cold and the dark.»revealing to her the secret the her own father had told her many years ago.
«Do you believe it?»Y/n asked her,letting go of her mother embrace to turn and look at throne once again.
«Of course i do and i’m telling you this,this secret passed down from Kings to heirs,because-»Rhaenyra words fell to deaf ears.
«You want me to your heir»Y/n breathed out in disbelief«You want to put this heavy burden on me.»she should’ve expected it,now that her older brothers were gone forever,she was the first in the line in her mother succession.
Even though Rhaenyra loved her daughter more than anything,only few months ago she started to see the woman she had become,the great “She Dragon”that fought in the war and every songs chanted about.She wished she could shield her for this truth,this life that she had found herself in but in times like that,the luxury of well being was something they couldn’t afford.
«Yes»her mother simply said,little tears forming in the corner of her eyes«You must promise me that you will carry it and protect it»she pleaded,but still holding the elegant demeanor of a true queen.
How can things change so fast?Not only three years ago she was supposed to be married off to the north,now,at nineteen,half daughter and half warrior,she was named heir to the throne.The sadness that was climbing through her,from her feet to the back of her neck,wasn’t only hers.It must been her mothers too,a sour farewell untold between the two of them.
Her mother always said sadness is meant to be felt,just as happiness is meant to be endured. She told her to inhale everything around her,every feeling like food to the hungry,every experience like she’s been starved for it all her life.It was her choice to make and she had to make the right one.
Swallowing the lump in her throat,Y/n reached out with shaky fingers,for her mother hand«I promise.»she firmly said.
Rhaenyra forced a smile on her face,enveloping her daughter in her arms,holding her close to her one last time«Take your brother and all the money you’ve found and go to find some peace.»she choked a silent sob in her hair.
Y/n shook her head,burning her face in her mother shoulder like she used to do when she was little and afraid of thunderstorms«I won’t have peace,i will be worried about you all the time.»she cried.
Her mother laughed through the tears«That’s just love.There’s nothing you can do about that.I’ve never loved anything the way i love you and i’ve never fretted on anything more.But this time…you can’t stay and i can’t go.Tell me you understand.»she whispered before kissing the side of her head lovingly.
«I don’t.»the young princess sobbed,clinging to her mother warmth.
«You will,trust me.»she reassured her.
That same night King's Landing rose up.
The bloody revolt began in the alleys and meanders of the Flea Bottom,where hundreds of men and women poured out of taverns, hovels and taverns.They were angry,drunk and scared.From the slums,insurgents swept through the city,calling for justice for the dead princes and their murdered mother Helaena.Wagons and carts were overturned, shops looted,homes looted and set on fire.
Y/n had fled the Capital with her younger brother Aegon,riding Merax,a dragon three times bigger and twice as faster than Syrax,that late evening to land in the Vale to their older sister Rhaena and Lady Jeyne Arryn who gave them refuge and protection.
The news of her mother death,burned and eaten alive by Sunfyre,her uncle dragon,came two weeks after.A month later,the real was now also mourning the death of King Aegon the Usurper,founded dead by his own mother,poisoned by the hand of his own brother.
The burden that her mother had placed upon her shoulders was a heavy one,especially since she had to be strong for her little brother.Every night Aegon,only nine years old,when she would’ve laid next to him in bed had asked her when their parents would come home.Y/n didn’t deserve know how does it feel to feel older before her time,wanting to say so many things and in the end never saying anything.To see things that others don't see,feeling alone in a room full of people she did't care about in a home that wasn’t hers.She didn’t deserves to know what that means admit what scared her without ever accepting it,hearing the voices of those next to her who told her how sorry they were and not listening to anything.Getting lost in her own life that is now filled with the ghosts of the people she once loved deeply.
She just have to accept that some people may be a part of her heart,but not her life.As time goes on,she’ll understand.What lasts,lasts;what doesn’t,doesn’t.Time solves most things.And what time can’t solve,she have to solve it herself and go through this life like they were all still there.
But right now she just wanted someone to come to het and embrace her into their warmth and say:«You did great,everything will be better soon.»and almost like a prayer,it happened.
Aemond came back for her one morning,in the beginning of another winter were the sky was dark and the air was cold.He was different,but at the same time it was still the person she had devoted her love to.When he came down from his horse,Y/n had excused herself from the company of her sister and Lady Arryn,reassuring both of them,and walking outside to him.Why had she pursued him?She had nothing to tell him.To have seen him was enough.He was a sign,a portent,a miracle.
He seemed taller,wrapped in a dark coat and leather pants.She noticed that he had difficulty to walk straight,his left leg seemed to pain him with every step he took.His pale hair were shorter and his sapphire eye free under the morning light.He was a bison,still the most beautiful man in the world.
«It’s you.»she breathed out,her lips trembled and her eyes started to get blurred.
«It’s me.»he nodded,his heart was beating so fast in his chest that he almost couldn’t breath.
From the base of her neck,the curve of waist,to the arch of her eyelashes her beauty made him a slave.Beauty slips inside her soul with every smile on her face,beauty must cram inside her heart cause she have a heart of gold,never fake,she have a touch of grace,and he had missed her with every breath he took.
«What are you doing here?»she sounded and looked like she was about to burst in tears,her body itching to be close to his.
«Come home with me.»he said,his voice was still velvety like she remembered.
The air was cold but in his presence she felt something lit up«Why would I do that?»she tried to sound convincing,when all the she wanted was to feel a familiar touch.
«We need someone to guide us,every one is chanting for the “She Dragon”to come back home.»he revealed,walking beside her in the Vale like they used to do in gardens on the Red Keep.
Y/n nodded,her lips forming a line«I will come home,because is my birthright.»she informed him«Even if i thought that by now you would’ve have the crown on your head.»her words were as harsh as the cold wind.
«You think that i would stole your birthright,little dragon?»he seemed hurt,but she had all the right to think so.
It had already happened and it was about to happen again.The Small Council was reunited that day,two Targaryens,a princess daughter of the Black Queen and a prince,brother of the Green King,were left to rule the real.And meanwhile Lord Corlys Velaryon and Cregan Stark demanded and supported Y/n claim,his mother and Tyland Lannister were suggesting to pass the throne to Aemond.
They even suggested a marrige,but Aemond refused to be wed to her only to share the crown.It belonged to her and he didn’t even wanted a touch of it,only her.It would have suited him to be anything,anything she needed to just be in her presence,by her side again.
«Tell me the truth.»she demanded,standing tall on the ground.
Aemond entire body shivered,his dark coat was shielding him from the wind but from the painful expression on his lover face«Some truths are hard to hear.Aegon was not a bad King,not a very good one but not a bad one either.He fought his own war,he was chivalrous,brave,he spared my life,and the lives of many others.»he talked quietly,his hands behind his back,swallowing every word.
Hearing him talking about his brother,the Usurper who killed her mother made her sick but she had let me carry on«Your mother lost herself in the way,her birthright was taken from her,many betrayed her and the safety of her children came first.I believe that she could’ve have made a good and diligent Queen,if things went differently.»Aemond confessed,looking at her filled with sorrow.
Y/n nodded immediately,her nose was burning like her throat,it was difficult to breathe when she just wanted to cry«She would have been,if your mother didn’t betrayed their friendship.»her voice cold and distant.
«For love»he said«we don’t always do the right thing.»it was clear,all over his handsome face,the painful look of regret.
«That’s why you poisoned you brother?»she asked,her chin was trembling just like her hands from the chilly weather.
Aemond went stiff for a second,this was certainly something he wasn’t proud of,something that will haunt him forever till the day of his death.He still remembered the way his brother genuinely smiled at him after he passed him the golden cup,the blood coming out from his mouth after he drank the wine and his mother heartbreaking screams.
«I did for us.»he answered,without thinking,speaking directly from his heart.
He knew Aegon plans after the war,to marry Rhaenyra daughter and make her life a living hell on earth.He couldn’t let his brother do that,not to his sweet Y/n that he loved more than anything.
«Because you want to be the King?»she suppressed a sour laugh,wiping her left cheek with her fingers where hot tears started to fall down.
«Because i want to be your husband.»he had said it with such a sincerity,that made her head spin.«I don’t want anything else.I want you»he whispered,his love for her shining in his eye.
Y/n had dreamed about hearing these words all her life,to have him proclaim his love for her and how could she become a stranger with someone who saw her soul.Aemond had poisoned her too,he made her weak for him. Not all poisons have an antidote.Some sneak into your soul,stun you with their smell,and have the most beautiful eyes you've ever seen.And there is no cure for them.None.
«It is my crown you lust over-»she had to make sure,he was asking her to choose if she still wanted him after all these years.
«No!»he immediately said,his voice echoing in the Vale«I’m just a man who poisoned his own brother to put an end at this war.It would take me years before i will be able to forgive myself and see me fit to rule.But,forgive me,my Queen,»hearing him calling her that made her belly tickle«you asked for truth,even as a child,you seemed more fit to sit upon the Iron Throne in ways that none of us ever did.»he took a step closer,now he was standing only a few inches away.
«You are saying-»Y/n started with a steady tone.
«That i don’t want the crown.»Aemond interrupted her«I want the person who will wear it on her head.»his hot breath was sending shivers down her neck,his sapphire never shined so bright.
Even after all these years apart,she couldn’t help but missed him.All in him for her was home,from his calmness,his never seen purple and sapphire eyes,the little frown on his forehead,their love for book,their chats.They were both horrible people forced to do horrible things,they killed people that the other cared about and stand in two different positions during the war.But now the war was over,the realm needed peace and someone to bring it.What piece of her heart would she choose?She can only live with one,because the other then inevitably dies.Which piece would she choose?She would have chosen him.
That is what love was,tell me all the horrible things you did and let me love you anyway.Unwrap the worst thing you have done,watch me hold them up to the light and never flinch.
Aemond opened his arms for her and she curled against him.He held her close and kissed her hair.She could feel his warmth.He loved her. He loved her a little too much.A love too calculated.Too thoughtful.A love a little too much.An awkward love that was meant to be natural.Like others.As impressive as others. More impressive.Too much.To captivate her.It takes a lot of giving to not be given up.It takes a lot of love.So he loved his little dragon as much as he could.And she felt cared for,safe in his arms and it was all that she ever needed.
«I was on my own…i was all on my own.»Y/n cried for the first time in weeks,in his embrace.
«Not anymore,we are going home together little dragon.»he promised her that.
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winter-soldier-101 · 6 months ago
Text
What have you done! Part 5
Summary: The dance has started blood will shed but who will survive the dance of dragons?
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(Y/N) lays in bed as Aemond and Rhaenyra hold the twins.
“I need help getting dressed” (Y/N) says as she sits up in bed.
“(Y/N) why do you need to get dressed my darling?” Rhaenyra asks (Y/N).
“I want grandfather to meet the twins' mother” (Y/N) says as she tries to get up again.
“I’ll get your grandfather for you my dear” Rhaenyra says to (Y/N) as she gives Alicent the baby girl she was holding.
Viserys walks in with the help of Daemon and Rhaenyra as he sits down near (Y/N).
“Grandfather I want you to meet Baelor and Aemma Targaryen.” (Y/N) tells Viserys.
“Oh look at these two beautiful babes I am proud of you (Y/N) and you my son Aemond I’m proud of you as well you will be wonderful parents. Viserys says to (Y/N) as he kisses her forehead and kisses each babe on the forehead.
“You named her Aemma?” Rhaenyra asks (Y/N).
“Yes, I've always wanted to name my daughter after my grandmother.” (Y/N) says to Rhaenyra and Viserys.
(Y/N) sat in her room as the maids help her dress for dinner with her whole family as (Y/N) walks in Viserys finished talking to everyone as (Y/N) makes way to sit next to Aemond as everyone begins to eat and laugh with each other.
The happiness did not last long as a roasted pig was placed in front of Aemond and (Y/N) as Luke let’s out a little laughter as it was placed down Aemond stood up and raised his cup.
“Final tribute to the health of my nephews Jace, Luke and Joffrey, each of them handsome, wise….. strong” Aemond says while looking at Luke and Jace.
“Aemond!” (Y/N) and Alicent yell.
“Come let us drain our cups to these three strong boys,” Aemond says, smiling at Jace and Luke.
“I dare you to say that again!” Jace says angrily at Aemond.
“Why twas only a compliment? Do you not think yourself strong?” Aemond asks Jace.
Jace walks up to Aemond and punches him hard but Aemond doesn’t move as he looks back at Jace and pushes him to the floor as Aegon holds Luke down as (Y/N) makes way over to Aegon and pulls him off of Luke and walks over to Aemond and slaps him in the face.
“You have no fucking right to call my brothers strong Aemond you understand me. Be thankful I am your wife or I would have slit your throat where you stand!” (Y/N) yells at Aemond as she leaves the dining hall and walks into the twins room and cries softly into her hands.
(Y/N) slept in the twins room as the maids helped set up a bed for (Y/N).
(Y/N) gets up and tries to open the door but finds it locked but soon the door is open as Alicent and Aemond walk in.
“What is going on? Why was the door locked?” (Y/N) asks Aemond and Alicent.
“(Y/N) my dear your grandfather passed in his sleep last night” Alicent tells (Y/N).
“What…. No that can’t be” (Y/N) says as the tears began falling down her cheeks.
“Before he passed I was with him and he told me he wants Aegon as heir” Alicent tells (Y/N).
“No…. He would never name that boy his heir.” (Y/N) says angrily.
“He did and Aegon will be crowned soon” Aemond tells (Y/N).
“No he would never in 20 plus years he would’ve never made Aegon his heir so I do not believe your mothers words” (Y/N) tells Aemond.
“Your whore of a mother does not belong on the Throne!” Aemond yells at (Y/N).
“My mother is my grandfather’s rightful heir not your whore fucking rapist brother!” (Y/N) yells at Aemond as he and Alicent leave the room and lock the door behind them.
The Letter
“Mother I am writing to you to tell you grandfather has passed and Alicent says he named Aegon his heir before his passing. I do not believe her or her words and they will crown him King soon. I will fly to Dragon Stone as soon as possible.
Your loyal daughter (Y/N).
The door is opened as Ser Steffon and Ser Arryk enter and tell (Y/N) to get dressed and get the twins ready to leave.
“No I can not leave, I must stay and heal, take this letter with you and give it to my mother as soon as you can Ser Arryk” (Y/N) tells him as he leaves the room.
“Princess as your sworn protector I will stay with you.” Ser Steffon tells (Y/N).
“Thank you Ser Steffon” (Y/N) says as he leaves the room and locks the door.
The door is pushed open roughly as Aemond walks in scaring (Y/N) and the twins.
“You're still here?” Aemond asks, sounding surprised.
“Yes I’m still here but not for long” (Y/N) tells Aemond.
“What do you mean not for long?” Aemond asks (Y/N).
“I mean Aemond that as soon as the maester says I can ride again I am taking my children to Dragon Stone to be with my mother. (Y/N) tells Aemond.
“No you will not leave me and you won’t take my children away from me (Y/N)!” Aemond yells at (Y/N).
“I can and I will Aemond and I will take my children with me no matter what you say!” (Y/N) yells back at him.
“Did you know?” Aemond asks (Y/N) calmly.
“Did I know what ?” (Y/N) asks Aemond.
“That Rhaenys would break through the dragon pit and kill innocent people during Aegon’s coronation” Aemond tells (Y/N).
“No I did not know she was going to escape and kill people but it would have happened if your fucking family had listened to what my grandfather always wanted my mother his first born daughter from the woman he truly ever loved” (Y/N) says to Aemond as he leaves the room.
One moon later
(Y/N) sat in the twins room playing with them as Aemond walks in drenched in water and looking very pale.
“Aemond….. Aemond what is the matter?” (Y/N) asks as she gets a blanket and wraps it around him.
“I…. I went to Storm's End to make a marriage proposal to Lord Baratheon for one of his daughters to marry Daeron and then Lucerys showed up and I fought with him that he owes me a debt and I through a dagger at his feet and told him to give me his eye and Lord Baratheon yelled at us to not fight and he was getting away so I chased after him and the dragons didn’t listen and I…. I” Aemond tells (Y/N).
“What Aemond…..is Lucerys okay?” (Y/N) asks Aemond.
“No my love I….. I killed him” Aemond says to (Y/N).
“What have you done! Why would you kill him?” (Y/N) asks Aemond.
“(Y/N) I did not mean for it to happen” Aemond says as (Y/N) walks up to him and slaps him in the face.
“Yes you did mean for it to happen you just couldn’t leave him be you are still that scared little boy who lost his eye even after all these years I thought you have grown but no you are nothing to me know do you understand me I hate and I never want to see your face again!” (Y/N) yells at Aemond as she hits him over and over.
“I tried to stop Vhagar-“ Aemond starts to say.
“Get out get out get out!” (Y/N) yells at him as she pushes him out of the room.
“Ser Steffon get Thila and tell her to get the twins and herself ready to fly to Dragon Stone” (Y/N) tells Ser Steffon.
“Yes Princess.” Ser Steffon says as he leaves to get the maid.
(Y/N) gets on top of Baelon and holds Baelor as Thila holds Aemma as Ser Steffon sits behind Thila and holds her as Baelon flies over King's Landing’s.
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