#(except /maybe/ rhea?)

[radiantmists]

binged both chalice of the gods and the hidden oracle in the last few days and tbh i don't care if zeus would blast me to bits, if he were real it would be on sight

[oopsallmabari]

also OOOH if the inquisitor's fate is inevitably death i am. rubbing my hands together like an evil scientist

[damiansgoodgirll]

IM SAT FOR DONT BREAK MY HEART PART 5 🖤💖

part one, part two, part three, part four

damian priest x reader (platonic), rhea ripley x reader (platonic), the judgment day x reader (platonic), drew mcintyre x reader

‼️angst, crying, nightmares, flashbacks, panic attack, rhea gets violent, family issues, domestic violence, verbal violence, fear of abandonment, fear of loneliness, reader being self conscious, a little longer than usual, SORRY IT’S ANGST DON’T READ IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE‼️

likes, comments and reblogs are always welcomed!

don’t break my heart - part 5

“stop that nonsense y/n” your mom laughed in the background while you were talking about your future with your father “you’re gonna be a doctor or a lawyer, maybe a teacher too, you’re gonna have a good education and find a job, you’re gonna find a good husband and you’re gonna give him the future he deserves for providing for you”

“what about the future i deserve? what about my plans? my dreams?” you screamed for the millionth time that day.

“the world isn’t made of dreams y/n. the world is made of fact and it pains me that you can’t get that into your silly brain” she laughed off “being a wrestler means not having a stable place to say, means travelling around the world and being always broke and your father and i can’t support you till you’re dead” she said, sitting in front of you at the kitchen table where you and your father were talking before.

“i don’t want you to support me forever! i’m not asking you to do that! i’m just asking you to be supportive of my dreams and-…”

“i said stop that fucking nonsense! you’re not going to be a wrestler! i don’t know who put that idea into your head but it’s never going to happen!” she screamed, slamming her hands on the table, making you flinch.

“dad please…” you didn’t want to sound weak, but your father took your side most of the times. except, not this one.

“your mom is right y/n, you need to open your eyes about the world we live in. it’s not made of rainbows and dreams. the faster you learn this, the sooner you’ll apply for college and get a degree and then a job, the happier everyone will be” he tried to be more gentle with you but still, he was siding with your mom and you couldn’t accept that.

“so what do you want me to do? settle for a life that i don’t want?” you asked, tears in your eyes.

“you wanna be a wrestler? then start training because those chocolate bars you hide in your room aren’t doing you any favour” she laughed making you look up at yourself in the mirror in front of the table “oh don’t be so focused on that y/n, you look good but you will look even more fabulous once you’ve got your first belt” she laughed, poking at you, making fun of you.

“mom!” you almost screamed “why are you being so mean?”

“i’m not being mean y/n. i’m just telling you the truth! imagine going out to the country club and telling our friends that our daughter is a wrestler” she joked with your dad, making him laugh “it’s gonna be so embarrassing”

“so this is what is about?” you couldn’t believe your ears “you’re embarrassed! you think i’m gonna make you look good because if i become a wrestler you couldn’t brag about how your daughter it’s better than your friends daughters! because everyone of them have their destiny written and they can’t say no! it’s because you couldn’t handle me choosing what makes me feel good because you didn’t have a choice!” you raised your voice, making both of your parents angry “you didn’t have a choice mom! but that doesn’t mean i can’t have mine!”

“y/n don’t fucking raise your voice at your mother!” your father screamed. you didn’t like when he screamed. he always turned to be violent at some point.

“i made my choice! i wanted to stay at home and being a housewife because that was what was better for this family! for us!” she spat back.

“no, you chose to be a housewife because you got knocked up” but before you could even say anything else, a loud slap echoed through the room. your father’s hand still too close on your face while your mother stood back.

“that’s enough! i told you millions of times that you don’t have to scream at me, or at your mother. now, you either apologise to us or you’re gonna be in big troubles” your father said but you were tired of being controlled by your parents. you were tired of being their toy. so you simply left and hid into your bedroom.

both of your parents follow you up on the stairs, trying to open your door “get this door open or i’m gonna break it y/n!” your dad screamed.

“i’m tired!” you screamed from the other side of the room “i’m so tired of you not listening to me! i’m so tired of you choosing for me! it’s my life and i wanna make my choices, i wanna make my mistakes and learn from them! you are my parents and you should be supporting me not pushing me down! this is my life and i wanna live it the way i want it! being a wrestler is all i want and you can’t keep this from me!” you were crying at this point, your voice cracking everytime you spoke.

your dad broke the door down, entering your room with your mom and start searching for something. when he found a backpack, he gave it to you “fill this with some clothes”

“what?” you asked in disbelief.

“don’t make me repeat things twice. fill this with your clothes, brushes, books, anything you might need, and do it quickly!” he screamed again making you jump “you wanna be a wrestler and yet you’re scared of people arguing” he laughed.

you did as he told you, not even caring what you were packing. once he was satisfied enough with how full your backpack was, he dragged you down the stairs and into the living room, your mom following behind “you wanna be a wrestler?” he asked, waiting for your response.

“more than anything in this world…”

he dragged you to the front door, opening and letting some of the rain wash the entry carpet “then go! go live your dream and don’t come back” he was pushing you out and you were trying your best to resist him but he was bigger and stronger so it took you no time to push you out and leave you in the pouring rain “you wanna be a wrestler? go! but don’t expect us to welcome you back once you miserably fail…”

“what? mom…mom, you can’t kick me out! this is my home…i…what am i supposed to…where am i supposed to go? mom please” you were crying, begging but they wouldn’t have mercy on you.

“i’m sorry y/n but you made your choice, we are letting you go as you wanted…” she wasn’t even upset about the whole situation.

“mom…dad, you can’t kick me out, please…it’s dark and cold and…and it’s raining and i don’t know where to go…”

“no wrestler, no failure will live under this roof” your father said, before closing the door right in front of your face.

you were left there, under the rain, with only a small backpack and big dreams in your hands.

your screams could be heard in the every room of the hotel but you couldn’t help them, not when you were dreaming, not when your dreams turned into flashback of the past, making you live a real nightmare all over again.

damian’s room was opposite to yours and rhea’s was just as next so it took them one second to run out of their rooms when they heard you screaming.

rhea opened your hotel room with a kick while damian turned on the lights. it was clear to them that you were still asleep and they didn’t want to scare you awake.

“what do we do?” rhea whispered to damian, who was clearly as worried as the woman.

“i don’t know…we should wake her up, gently…” he said. his heart broke when he saw your eyes closed as much as you could, like you were crying.

damian slowly walked towards your bed, his hand resting on your shoulder, gently moving it as he was whispering your name to wake you up “y/n…please hermosa, wake up” he whispered sitting next to you.

rhea sat on the edge of the bed. in case she needed to held you back. you had nightmares in your past and it wasn’t new to them but you never had nightmares this strong.

“y/n…” damian whispered again.

you felt him touching your shoulder, in your mind he was someone who wanted to hurt you so you woke up with a loud scream, trying to shove damian’s hand away.

“hey hey…it’s me y/n, it’s damian…” he talked softly, his voice low.

“please…please don’t hurt me, i promise i’ll be good, i’ll go to college but please don’t hit me again…” your held up your hands, shielding your face. you were visibly crying, still confused as you didn’t recognise that you were in a hotel room and not your house, that you were with damian and rhea and not your parents.

“hey mariposa…no one is going to hurt you…” damian soft voice spoke to you, bringing you back to reality. you slowly slowed your hands down, opening your eyes and meeting damian and rhea.

they both had a scared look on their faces. they didn’t know what to do.

“it’s me…it’s damian…” he wanted to wipe some of your tears away but when his hand tried to touch you, you flinched away, making him stop his movements.

“hey love…” rhea spoke to you, tears in her eyes “no one is going to hurt you, i promise you, no one’s here…”

“it felt real…” your broken voice spoke “like it was happening again…”

“can i touch you?” damian gently asked you and you nodded. he slowly opened his arms to let you rest on his chest, helping you calm down “deep breaths…deep breaths y/n…”

you tried to calm down as he instructed you to do, and after a few minutes your breathing became natural. tears were flowing down your face, you couldn’t stop them.

“i’m sorry if i woke you up” you apologised, feeling guilty.

“it’s okay love…” rhea softly smiled at you. they both were genuinely concerned.

“what happened y/n?” damian asked gently , not wanting to make you uncomfortable.

“i’ve had this flashback…of when, you know, they kicked me out…and this time it felt so real, like they were here again…like everything it was happening all over again just because she reminded me…” you still cried in damian’s arms.

“who reminded you? who’s she?” rhea asked, looking up at damian.

“liv…i saw her last night, in the reception hall and she said how much of a burden i’ve always been to the judgment day…she said that finn told her everything about my past, about me still being in therapy, about how finn was tired of me complaining and crying…she said awful things that made my flashbacks click in i guess…why would finn told her everything about my past? was i really a burden to him? to you?” you asked, looking up at damian with sad eyes.

“no, no, absolutely no. i told you y/n that you would never be a burden for us…i care about you so much and everything you went through is awful…but i promise you that we will always be here for you…” he delicately wiped your tears away and kissed your forehead.

rhea was fuming.

she couldn’t believe that finn would say something so delicate and private to liv. finn knew everything you went through and he was always there to support you and help you. finn was the one who insisted on you going to therapy and he was the one who would accompany you to the sessions every week. he would wait in the car for hours, but he would wait just to make sure you were okay. he never once left you going alone.

so rhea couldn’t understand why finn used everything about your past against you when he was the first person to come to the rescue when you were in a bad place with your mind.

“rhea?” damian called her when he saw her looking at the door.

“liv is dead. and finn’s too…” she said before moving out your room.

she started looking for the pair’s room. looking for liv first, she started banging on her door, not caring if it was three in the morning.

finn, who was on the next room, woke up when he heard the noise coming from outside “what is going on? what is this noise?”

rhea turned to face him, walking toward him.

“rhea what’s going on?” he asked but before he could continue, she punched him right in the face.

“you’re a fucking bastard!” she screamed, punching him again.

liv came out of the room, trying to separate rhea from liv.

“get your fucking hands off of me! you’re not better that him” she pushed liv away.

“rhea what’s going on?” finn asked, a little concerned from the whole situation.

“why would you tell her? y/n didn’t deserve that…finn, she cared about you, she cares about you, she admires you…why would you do that to her?” rhea kept screaming.

“rhea what?” finn then remembered telling liv about y/n’s past. he didn’t want to, he never meant to tell her but he was upset when you joined damian and rhea instead of joining him. so, that night, he told everything to liv, full of rage and anger, he never imagined liv would use this against you “rhea what happened?” he asked, a worried look on his face.

“she’s not feeling good, thanks to you…” rhea looked at both liv and finn “liv, you’re mad at me, you’re mad at the world, i get it, but don’t use someone’s past against them…you have no idea what she’s going through…” rhea said tired “you’re a woman, be more than this…”

in the meantime, you were sure your screamed woke everyone in the hotel. but rhea was making it worse, you could hear her from your room.

“damian…should we do something?” you asked, your head still resting on his shoulder..

“no, rhea will take care of this…i’ll stay here with you, close your eyes mariposa…you should rest a little” he whispered softly.

you nodded, too tired of answering. you were exhausted and waking up in the middle of the night after a big evening of working took a toll on you.

damian felt for you.

you didn’t deserve all of this. he knew that finn was mad with rhea and him so he couldn’t understand why would finn put you into this.

“is y/n okay?” finn asked to rhea, visibly worried.

“no she’s not, thanks to you…” she couldn’t even watch him in the eyes.

“rhea i - let me talk to her…” finn almost begged while liv watched from the side, realising that she might have overstepped and gone too far.

“absolutely not! you are no longer welcomed around her, not after you just put her through…she woke up crying, begging for us to stop hurt her…i don’t know what you told liv, but y/n is hurting right now and it’s all on you!” rhea said before leaving.

finn stood there, too stunned to speak.

dom heard everything from the other side of the door. he knew that if he got out he would cause more damage cause he also said some things about you to liv. and right now, he was feeling like shit.

finn was battling with himself. hating himself for hurting you.

“let’s go inside finn…” liv whispered but he shoved her away, wanting to escape from that moment.

rhea came back to damian and softly smiled when she saw you sleeping against his chest “should we stay here?” rhea asked, watching your figure as it was peacefully sleeping.

“i don’t think i can move rhea, she fell asleep on me” damian chuckled “you can go back to sleep rhea, i’ll stay here in case something happens” rhea nodded and left the room. she knew you were in good hands.

“what are you doing here?” you shockingly asked when you opened the door of your new florida home.

“it’s nice to see you too” your mom joked “won’t you let us in?”

“no…no i won’t, now get lost” you said trying to close the door but your father stopped you.

“that’s not nice y/n…we taught you better than this” he said and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“really? you fucking abandoned me!”

“we know” your mother said “and we came here to apologise”

“no, i don’t believe you” you scoffed “ there has to be another reason if you came here today. is it because of money? you need money? what do you need from me?”

“we…” your mother couldn’t lie “we have been watching you since you joined wwe” she said smiling, suddenly feeling like a proud mother “and we are so proud of what you accomplished”

“what do you want from me?” you asked again, getting irritated.

“listen we had some problems and we had to sell my car…” your mom said, quite ashamed of that “and we told everyone that we were actually fixing it but money are quite low and…”

“and? and you expect me to give you money because of? it’s gonna make you look bad at the country club or are you that broke that you are not even allowed at the club anymore?” you asked, already knowing the answer the moment neither of your parents answered you “like i thought…” you chuckled “listen to me you either go away or i’ll call the cops”

“are you threatening us, young girl?” your father asked looking angry as always, but this time you were a little less scared.

“no, this is a warning. i don’t wanna see you ever again or next time i’m filing for a restraining order…” you said closing the door right in front of their face just like they did with you.

you woke up again that night, the thoughts of your parents never leaving you.

damian sensed that you were awake but it was only 6 am, he knew you could sleep a couple of more hours so immediately he went on alert.

he looked down at you trying to see if you were crying, but he saw you were looking at the ceiling probably thinking of something or someone “hey…you okay?” he asked softly.

“uhm…yes…” you didn’t know what to answer.

“talk to me…” he whispered.

“they are still here somehow, i still feel their presence and i hate it…i hate them, and…and everything they put me through…but i feel them everywhere i go, everywhere i look, i can hear my mom saying how disappointed she is or my dad saying that if i don’t do well or if i fail i’m gonna be in big trouble…and i can’t do this anymore, i felt like i was doing good with therapy…i felt like i was starting to live again and then…then this shit with the team happens and i feel like i’m getting kicked out all over again…losing finn and dom hurts, i cared so much about them…” you didn’t want to cry again but you couldn’t stop a few tears that fell from your eyes.

“hey…just wanted to remind you that it’s okay to feel sadness, it's a natural part of life but please remember, you are not alone in this, i’m here for you, rhea too…you’re not alone in this journey, you are stronger than you think, and better days are just around the corner…i know this will pass, healing takes time, and i will always admire you for reaching out for help…and you are so brave and strong, i promise you we are with you all the way through this…we are so proud of you ” he told you, making you reach for that comfort you lost many years ago. it was the comforting voice of an adult, of someone who cared for you. it was the comforting words, the words that you begged your parents to say but never said.

and that comfort you found it again in damian’s embrace.

“go back to sleep y/n…you can sleep a couple of more hours and i promise you that i’ll be here once you wake up” he smiled, making a promise he wasn’t going to break.

the voices about a fight between the members of the judgment day flew quickly through the hotel walls. everyone woke up with the news of rhea attacking finn and liv but no one knew why. somehow they knew you were involved but they didn’t know why.

drew got worried when he didn’t see you in the gym. it was like an habituè, every hotel you were in, you were always hitting gym in the morning so he couldn’t understand why you weren’t there.

“shayna” he called when he saw the dark haired woman entering the gym “do you know where is y/n? or damian? or anyone from the judgment day ?”

“oh…you didn’t know?” she asked.

“know what?” he asked, a little worried.

“there was a fight between rhea and finn tonight, i think about y/n not feeling good or something, i really don’t know but punk said there was a lot of noise, especially from rhea screaming” she informed drew before starting her training.

drew was left there, speechless.

you were hurt?

he flew out of the gym and went towards your bedroom.

damian and rhea were both there, you were already awake but too tired to do anything. crying took a big toll on you. your eyes were heavy and red, your head was pounding heavily and you were tired.

you all heard a knock on your door and damian went in protective mode, fearing it would be finn as rhea went to open the door. she was met with a worry drew.

“drew” she whispered.

“is she okay? i’ve heard she wasn’t feeling good…” he asked, looking at the man who was shielding you.

“she is…but it’s not the right moment” rhea wasn’t stupid. she knew there was something between you two and even if she didn’t like it a little bit, she couldn’t help but be grateful that someone like drew was worrying about you.

“rhea who’s at the door?” you stood up, walking alongside with damian “oh…hi drew” you tiredly smiled at him.

“hey…” he smiled, observing your face. you were tired and it was clear to anyone that you had a rough night “can i please talk to you?” he asked and you nodded, smiling at him.

“guys…it’s fine i promise, i’ll let you know if it isn’t” you said, trying to let them go.

rhea nodded and damian smiled at you “we are one door away” you thanked them as they left.

you sat on your bed and drew followed you, his eyes never leaving your face. he was trying to see if there was something, anything that could tell him what was going on but he couldn’t find any sign.

“is everything okay? how’s your back?” you asked him. his heart melted, loving how caring you were even when it was clear that you were the one in pain.

“i’m okay…my back is okay, thank you” he smiled at you “what about you? you don’t look fine y/n” he said but you couldn’t find any words to explain what was going on.

after what happened with finn you didn’t know if you could trust him with something so delicate as your past. you knew he wasn’t finn but you’ve always valued the irish man like family, like someone who you could count on but after last night you didn’t know who to trust.

“talk to me…please” his eyes almost begging. he saw the redness around them, he knew you cried but he didn’t know why.

“it’s a long story and i’m sure you have more interesting things to do…” you smiled at him.

“i have all the time in the world for you, i wanna make sure you are okay, and clearly you’re hurting right now…” his clear eyes never leaving yours.

so you told him everything.

you told him about your family. how your dad was abusive and violent. how your mom used to make fun of you. how they never supported you. how they kicked you out when you were only a teen. how they threatened you and came back once you got famous. how you had to file a restraining order against them because they wouldn’t leave you alone. how, thanks to them, you’ve been doing therapy sessions for years. how you thought you found a new family in the judgment day. how broken you were when the team split up because to you was like living all that happened with your family all over again. how you trusted finn with your secrets and how he went and told everything to liv. how liv used it against you last night causing you the worst breakdown you’ve had in a long time.

drew was speechless. he couldn’t understand how your own family could turn their backs on you. you were their daughter and they were supposed to protect you. so he couldn’t really understand how some parents were capable of damaging their kid so much.

“and that’s it” you said, avoiding his eyes “pretty fucked up, isn’t it?” you tried to laugh but it was more of a sarcastic laugh.

“i’m so fucking sorry you had to go through all of this…there are no words to express how sorry i am, i can’t imagine what you had to deal with and i can’t imagine how painful it must have been and i swear finn is a dead man” drew said making you laugh, a genuine laugh.

“i think rhea took care of him already” you smiled.

“yeah, i heard” he laughed “but i want you to know that i’ll be here for you, what i said last night, i meant it…y/n i like you, i like all of you” he slowly reached your cheek with his hand, making sure he wasn’t overstepping “i like you when you go out in the ring and kick asses, i like you when you are just you, the normal you, i like you when you’re sad or happy, i like when you shy away from a compliment…i like you and i wanna be here for you, if you’ll let me”

and again, you weren’t good with words so you replicated the actions from last night. you moved closer to his body, your hands both around his neck while you moved closer to him. your lips meeting his in a delicate and gentle kiss, almost like saying “thank you”.

he smiled into the kiss, his hand resting on your cheek “thank you for trusting me with this y/n” he whispered before meeting your lips again.

there was an awkward silence for a few seconds. where you just tried to avoid drew’s eyes while his eyes couldn’t leave your face. he understood that you were a delicate person, who’s been through hell and more. and he promised to himself to never hurt you like your family did in the past. he wanted to see you smile every day, he wanted to be the reason for you to be happy, he wanted to be there for you so he made a promise to himself, he wouldn’t let anyone hurt you again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

PART 6

part 6 will be out after monday night raw cause i need ideas, let me know in the comments if you have any idea you would like me to add!

[slutforfictionalwomen]

Together

Kinktober day 24

Rhea Ripley x Fem Reader

Main kinks: Anal play, daddy kink.

Word count: 1,3K

Summary: It's the perfect autumn day in Florida with a pretty high temperature, perfect day for a swim, or maybe a nice bang....

Warnings: Smut, butt plug, strap on, coming without attention to clit, cunnilingus, doggy style, slight dom/sub dynamic.

(Please tell me if I forgot anything.)

"And your winner is Rhea Ripley!" Rhea looks around the crowd posing, showing them who she is. You're standing at the front row, watching your girlfriend's win, cheering the loudest of all. The champion takes a moment to look at you sending you a wink. You hear the girls next to you going wild, thinking it was for them. Only you know the truth.

You like being her secret. Only a small group of people knows about your relationship, so it's hidden for the public. Then there are other things only the two of you know. How you scream 'daddy' when her fingers are deep inside you, but also how she cleans you up after.

Rhea's opponent is getting up. The woman really had something to survive. They both leave the ring, and you make your way through the people with your secret backstage pass, on your way to see the woman who stole your heart.

~

"There is my pretty girl, come here." Rhea is taking off her makeup in her locker room, which is empty except for the two of you. You make your way over to your woman. You got together when you were eightteen, and she was twenty-three. It's a bit of an age gap, but not that bad. You really love each other.

Rhea pats her lap, so you straddle her. Your lips meet with hers. There's a tint of salty sweat, but you don't care at all. Her big hands run over your waist and hips, the crop top you're wearing gives easy access to your skin. You groan a bit into her mouth, your hands in her short, messy black hair.

Just when the situation starts to escalate, the wrestler breaks away from the kiss. You sigh and pout in frustration. After seeing that vigorous match, you needed her hands on you everywhere. Reminding you that only you could be hers.

Rhea notices your attitude, quickly cutting it off by carefully grabbing your jaw. "Oh baby, I know you want me. Tomorrow, okay? I promise to make it worth the wait. Daddy needs to relax." The way she calls herself daddy will always do it for you, but you obediently get off her lap and sit on the chair next to her to discuss the match whilst she cleans herself up.

~

The water of the outdoor pool is chilly when you jump into it. Rhea always just slides into it casually, but she likes your young naivety as you always jump in it with the water splashing over all. It's the midst of October, but around this time, it's usually between 25°C and 30°C where she lives in Florida. Today, it's a bit warmer, perfect temperature for a swim.

It's beautiful here. Dogs lying by the pool, cat casually walking around, gorgeous girlfriend by your side in the pool. You love living like this, the life you could never have imagined.

You spend some time swimming, talking about yesterday's match, and having fun. You always love to hear Rhea explain how she got to her win or the mistakes she made that ended with her losing.

"I'm done swimming, baby. Want to play a little?" Rhea asks after a while. You always know what it means when she uses those words. Excitement starts bubbling up in your stomach, so you nod heavily. "No, gorgeous. Use your words." She kisses the tip of your nose.

"Yes, daddy." The words come out strong, but you know your voice won't be as capable swen she has her hands on you. Rhea chuckles and gets out of the pool. "Dry yourself up and get on the couch, I'm going to get some toys."

~

"Good girl, waiting for me so patiently. I got some of your favourites, you'll love what I have in mind for you." Rhea puts down a small, silken bag. You have seen this bag often, it's used when your girlfriend is going somewhere and wants to take toys to that place.

You're ripped out of thoughts by her pushing you down from where you sat on the couch. Next up, she grabs your hair and kisses you, pulling a whine from your mouth. The toys are long forgotten, and so are your thoughts. You're acting on need and muscle memory now.

Rhea softly kneads your breast. The easy access through the bikini top has a pull on her. Just when Rhea kisses down your neck, you feel some slick dripping down your thigh. You hope she won't be mad for wetting the couch with your arousal.

"This is what I'm gonna do to you." She grabs the bag and empties it. "I'm going to fuck you from behind with that cute little plug in your ass." You stare at the black rose ended, bigger butt plug on the couch. She knows it is your favourite. The strap is midsized and double-ended, black with a few bumps that will rub nicely against your insides.

"Bikini off and on the couch with your ass up," the black haired wrestler orders. You do as she says, but you know you're going to get some problems with stamina in this position. When you're done, Rhea has inserted the inner end of the strap into herself and tightened the clasps on her waist and legs.

Rhea gets behind you, you hear how she pumps lube on her hand and puts it on the metal butt plug. The puts the remainder on your hole, slowly pushing a finger in. You whine at the familiar feeling, many people don't like it but it's one of your favourite things. She takes her finger out and pushes the cold plug into your ass.

"I won't need lube for the strap, you so soaked, little thing." Rhea reaches over to play with your nipples before pushing the strap into you with a groan. She immediately sets up a nice pace, pulling loud moans out of you.

Your girlfriend has a nice view at the plug in your ass. She presses it a few times to tease, each time you whine from the unexpectedness. Rhea herself is having the best time. The end on the inside of the harness pushes into her with each thrust and the fabric of the harness rubs her clit.

"Do you think you can cum without me rubbing your clit?" Rhea alightly adjusts her position, now thrusting right into your sweet spot. She tries to get the pace up a bit without getting sloppy, still pushing deep into you.

"I think so, daddy," you answer with a weak voice. The woman behind you grabs your ass, fondling it. The feeling sends a shiver down your spine.

Rhea feels how close she is getting. She clings onto the strap so she doesn't ruin her own plans. "We're going to cum together, okay? Are you ready?"

You feel your own orgasm building up. "Yes, daddy," you respond shakily when you're on the edge. Now you're both keeping in your orgasms, waiting for each other.

"Cum." Rhea's voice is strong. She thrusts harder into you, pulling an orgasm from both you and herself. Your moans and whines mix up, so audible you can't hear who they come from. You feel arms hugging you from behind and crash down on the couch.

Rhea gives you both a second to catch breath before pulling out and setting all toys aside to clean up later. She then turns you around to lick all the excess wetness off your pussy. You tremble when her tongue touches your sensitive clit. She takes care of you, as always, licking to the last drop.

"You did so good for me." Together, you stay cuddling on the couch for much longer, dozing off into a peaceful slumber.

[lovl3igh]

"they made greens worse in show to push blacks agenda" "they made blacks worse in show to push green agenda" truth is they made daemon and viserys worse and greens are now arouse sympathy and rhaenyra is made more soft and all that destroys mostly female characters and is for more drama and to push whole tg vs tb thing for bigger marketing while saying that's not what we supposed to do (season 1)

and yes, greens are worse in the books, making alicent innocent in the beginning and stating murder of luke as accident was to make them look better. and yes daemon was more "grey" character in the book, while in show almost every scene who was supposed to make him look like good father, husband or just vulnarable guy was cut out or belittled, his relationships make him look like bad guy - killing rhea, admitting to not fully loving laena, abusing nyra - instead of book!daemon who is against everyone but his family (except of green side), there's show!daemon who goes against his family or ignore its' members. and yes there are things when the greens are shown worse than in the books and black better than they were written

but changing ages of characters harms team black only. and since there's many changes of those and that's of many important characters it DOES make team black look worse and makes team green victims

1. alicent instead of being adult woman going against little girl (alicent 18yo and rhaenyra only 9) is now teenager sexually abused by viserys who is even older than her in the show than in f&b. being rhaenyra's peer - and her former friend - also changes the dynamic because now people claim rhaenyra caused break up of their friendship as if she wasn't just suffering 14yo. no, alicent is no more adult woman climbing for power and acting against child, it's a teenager abondoned by her best friend after being force into relationship with much older guy

2. jace, luke and dragon twins aged up - now in book it was 10yo aemond who attacked 3yo joffrey and then fought 4yo luke and 5yo jace*. in the show 11yo (according to s2 timeline) aemond is fighting four kids in the age from 8 to 10. so he doesn't attacks children at least 2x younger than him but is jumped by almost his peers. poor aemond, right?

*before someone say "jace was 6 and luke 5" - jace was born in late 114 AC and luke in late 115, meanwhile laena died at the beggining of 120 AC, which makes them 5 and 4 years old respectively

3. we don't have actual age of twins but looking at actors' ages, jaehaerys and jaehaera were 4, maybe 5 years old, tho in s1 they looked like toddlers. now it's not a big book to show change, 6 to 4yo, but it still look kinda worse to murder boy who barely stopped being a toddler than 6yo

4. daemon fell in love with laena when she was 22 (!!!). she wasn't a teenager. she wasn't also 12yo when offered by her parents to viserys. making her younger in the show made daemon, corlys and rhaenys look worse than in f&b (the only person who looked "better" - there's no good word for that i'm afraid - in that situation was viserys, who decided to marry 15yo and not 12yo. good for you, pedo?)

5. joffrey being 6yo with baby dragon makes rhaenyra look worse and like an oathbreaker. sending baby dragons to the vale instead of dragon who can at very least carry his rider doesn't look cool even though was funny for a second, because she technically didn't break her word, she DID send a dragon, even two, but that was a loophole

6. not exactly the same but - fabien frankel and matt smith' casting. i'm not saying they don't play their characters well or anything. that's not the point. the point is that fabien was born in 1994, matt smith in 1982 and milly alcock in 2000. there's 12 years age difference between fabien and matt but between cole and daemon is supposed to be only a year. now daemon is still called a groomer and cole is not because he is played by a guy only 6 years older than milly. and there are also people who now call him a victim and not rhaenyra

so yeah, i don't really wanna see anymore how much blacks look better in the show than in the book and greens worse... because that's not true. yeah, there are things done that make tb look a bit better but the show started with making the greens victims they weren't at all in the book and a lot of that has to do with ages changing

[cherryheairt]

Hi :)

I’ve had this headcanon for a while where thranduil, upon falling in love again, makes it quite obvious he feels strongly about reader but won’t push physical limits of affection quite yet. Due to him having been married before he wants to be sure the Gods approve of him falling in love/marrying again as to not cause ill intend to fall upon reader because of him not being in control of his carnal desires. Reader is oblivious to this and pushes/teases him relentlessly.

Might end in smut upon him knowing reader is safe and he may pursue them fully or just him saying fuck it I see no god but me down here lol

Or just might end in him teasing back big time n leaving reader high and dry (but maybe with an explanation lol we love some open communication ✨)

Thank you! And feel free to mix it up and or change ending I’d just love to see a take on this 🙂‍↕️

hello! I'm so sorry that its been forever since you submitted this. thranduil is a character that we only ever got to see in super serious king mode, and had little screentime at that so I wanted to think through his personality a lot. might be ooc

I personally don't know how to write smut, so I didn't include it. I hope that's okay.

The character will be named Myria (meer-rhea), but have no skin color, body shape, hair color, etc description. She is eleven though, if that matters.

👑

The Gods had long since forsaken Thranduil. After he lost his wife, Legolas' mother, the world seemed to darken along with his own attitude. He changed, and everyone in Middle Earth knew it. Legolas never grew up to know the kind and magnanimous person his father was before his late wife's death.

To him, and the world, Thranduil was a stoic and unforgiving King.

To all, perhaps, except Myria. Myria had been born not too long after Thranduil—in Rivendell. Though the two never met until well into adulthood, Myria liked to say that they hit it off well. Thranduil would never admit the same out loud.

Myria moved from Rivendell to Mirkwood for her studies, thanks to her friend Elrond's advisory, and had since lived there for thousands of years. Youthful as ever, Myria made it her unofficial duty to occupy the King of Murkwood's free time.

She had even befriended his only son, Legolas, despite their age gap. The young elf was approaching 3000 years old soon, and he swore that he was more mature than the she-elf that graced their halls.

Myria didn't mind the head shakes or comments from royal advisors, telling her to mind herself around their King. Thranduil had long grown used to it, anyway.

Myria made her way to his royal chambers, uncaring about her unpropriety with visiting without being called upon. This was their daily routine. Thranduil had his meetings before breakfast, then went back to his chambers to dine alone. Or, he would, if Myria wasn't always waiting right there at his table for him.

"What is for breakfast today, My King?" Myria asked jovially, perched upon one of his carved wooden chairs. Originally, there had only been one for himself, but he ordered a matching one to me made after the woman's incessant visits. Before there was a seat, she simply stood at the table. The thought bothered him, a tinging in the back of his mind telling him that she must be on the same level as him, at all times.

Thranduil's long flowing sleeves and cloaks followed behind him as he entered the room. "You ask this every day, Myr. And what is my answer every day?" He asks, though there is no bite to his words.

"That you 'do not know'. Quite amusing, the all-knowing King not knowing something so simple." She mused, scrunching her nose up at his tall frame.

He fought an amused eye roll, sitting in front of her. He poured himself a chalice of sweet red wine, sipping on it as he replied. "Simple, or trivial? I do not concern myself with such affairs, the food is brought to me and I eat it."

"Careful, Thranduil. That may one day get you poisoned." She mirrored his movements, having waited for him to start drinking.

"By whom? Yourself?" He chuckled darkly, amused at the prospect of such a thing. Mirkwood elves' loyalties ran deep, the chances of him dying suddenly from a cold where higher than dying of poison. "You are the only outsider residing here."

Myria 'hmphed' vehemently, lifting her nose at the accusation. "I hardly can be called an outsider these days. How long have I lived here? Four...five thousand years?"

"Five thousand, two hundred and thirty." He answered for her.

Shocked, she stared at him, mouth agape. "You know the exact year?"

"How could I not? That is the year when my life started to get ten times harder."

She snorted, shaking her head. "I disagree. I think it only got better."

Two servants entered the chambers, one plate in hand each. Platters were lifted to reveal the neatly presented food, a light breakfast of fruit and toasted bread.

Myria and Thranduil dug into it, a pleasent chatter filling the room. "What are your plans for today?" She asked him.

"Same as usual, final preparations for the Feast of Starlight. Though, there is a task I wanted to assign you–" Thranduil was interrupted by a guard rushing into the room. He lifted an unimpressed brow, staring the guard down for his brash action.

"Your majesty, a party of rogue Dwarves have been apprehended in the Mirkwood forest!" To this, Thranduil immediately stood and strided past the guard out of the chambers. Myria, struck by the news, eagerly followed in suite.

"You are not supposed to sit in on prisoners being interrogated, Myria." Thranduil told her sternly, knowing the sound of her light steps trailed behind his own heavy ones.

"When has that stopped me before?" She laughed. It had been a nearly a hundred years since she'd seen a dwarf, and much longer than that since one had been in the depths of the Elvenking's Halls. She was excited to see what brave adventurers had come, and survived the dark forest's curse.

Thranduil seated himself at the head of his lifted throne, elegant giant antlers rooting themselves out from behind the throne like a crown. The one perched on his head mirrored that, thick branches striking in contrast to his pure white hair. Myria took a moment to admire him from her spot at the base of the stairs. The guard next to her didn't even blink at her intrusion, knowing the relationship between the ward and the King was a complex one that even the elders didn't bother to deduce.

Myria stayed silent during the precedings, not moving an inch except to lean her head forward and inspect the Dwarves. The party was quite large, a whole gaggle of Dwarves were bravely setting off to reclaim Erebor's keep and defeat the dragon nested under it. The leader, Thorin, was quite handsome for a Dwarf, not that Myria would say so aloud. For all her teasings, that would surely be the tip of the iceburg for Thranduil's patience.

As the majority of the Dwarves were escorted to the dungeons, only Thorin was left in Thranduil's audience. She listened as Thranduil made his offer, then got rejected harshly by the Dwarven King. Screamed at, being told off by a life form deemed lesser than an Elf, Thranduil had enough. He sent the man away with a flick of his wrist.

As he slowly desended the steps after the dwarf 'king' was escorted away, Thranduil placed a hand on Myrias shoulder.

The cold rings on his hand raised goosebumps on the back of her neck and arms, shivering at the feeling. She cursed herself for wearing an off-shoulder dress, dressing herself for the nice weather that morning. If he noticed, Thranduil didn't say anything. But the tiny lift to the corners of his mouth said plenty. "Do not fraternize with the filth that dirties our halls."

Our halls. The brief words pleasently rung in the back of Myria's mind. She nodded. He knew her well, guessing that she would try to sneak into the dungeons during the feast to try to speak with the curious Dwarves.

He moved his hand down, resting it gently on the small of her back. "Let us go, the feast will not oversee itself."

👑

Myria and Thranduil lounged in his chambers, simply biding time until the Feast of Starlight had begun. Admist muted chuckles and jests, mostly from Myria, Tauriel entered the room. "You called for me, My King?" She bowed shortly. "I have come to report to you." Tauriel glanced briefly towards Myria, nodding when she lifted a goblet towards her silvan friend.

"I thought I ordered that nest to be destroyed." Thranduil said, voice taut with frustration. The spiders had been plaguing their forest for years now, unrelenting.

"We cleared the forest as ordered, my Lord." The woman insisted. "But more spiders keep coming from nests in the South. If we could kill them at their source–"

"That fortress lies beyond our borders. Your orders are to keep our lands clear of those foul creatures. That is your task."

"And when we drive them off, what then? Will they not spread to other lands?" Ever the bleeding heart, Tauriel worried for other people.

"Other lands are not my concern." Thranduil said coldly. "The fortunes of this land will rise and fall. But here in this kingdom, we will endure." As had been the way for thousands of years. Thranduil insisted that Mirkwood keep to themselves, not needing or offering help from any others.

Tauriel nodded stiffly, excusing herself from the King's presence. Before she left, however, he spoke again. "Legolas said you fought well today. He has grown...fond of you."

She paused, thinking his words over carefully. "I assure you my Lord, Legolas thinks of me as no more than captain of the guard.

"Perhaps he did once. Now, I'm not so sure." Thranduil pushed.

"I did not think that you would allow your son to pledge himself toward a lowly silvan elf." She responded, voice slightly hopeful.

Myria leaned forward, too, curious of his answer. Would he allow his heir to love an elf with no royale blood?

"You are right, I would not." Thranduil chuckled humorlessly at the thought of it. Myria bit her tongue, hurt by the comment indirectly. She was no common-born Elf, sure, but had no royal blood to speak of either. She deflated in her seat, drinking down the rest of her wine. "Do not give him hope where there is none."

Is that what Thranduil had been doing for Myria, merely giving her hope? Slivers of special attention, with no intentions of truly loving her. She stood from her seat, leaving the chambers without a word.

Tauriel, too, left quickly after that.

Thranduil stood alone in his chambers, looking at the spot where Myria had once been.

👑

The feast came and passed quickly, Myria in no mood to sing or dance like she usual did at such events. She attended for the sake of politeness, leaving when she had greeted enough people for the night.

She spend the rest of it wallowing in her chambers.

Word got out that the entire party of Dwarves escaped, and Myria silently applauded them for their boldness. She hoped, for their sake, that they were successful in freeing their home.

Days passed, and news of Smaug's death had spread to every corner of Middle Earth. Thranduil was quick to organize his army to march toward Erebor, wasting no time to retrieve his precious gems. Myria had come along on her own white elk mount, following behind Thranduil silently, if only to satiate her curiosity. Last time they had come, Thranduil had rejected the Dwarves' desperate plea for help. This time, he came to declare war if they refused to return his gems.

The damned gems. Always on his mind. True, they were a physical reminder of his late wife and Queen. But it seemed as though he dwelled on them more than he cherished her memory. He did not speak of her, ever. Even to his own son, his wife was but a ghost haunting the halls.

Myria couldn't begin to understand the loss of a spouse, but she did understand that he was too caught up in himself.

Even though she had little intention of fighting the Dwarves, Myria still brought a dagger and bow on the march. Could never be too careful, Thranduil always reminded her. She guided her elk to stand behind his, watching him greet the human leader stiffly. It was almost laughable how mad his manners were, his kingly presence deemed to good for polite small talk.

Myria had been given a temporary quarter near Thranduil's, their tents close as they usually were. He had been too busy to notice her absence lately, both to her joy and displeasure. She missed his daily warmth around her, but knew it was best to distance himself from him. Just this last journey, then she sould go back to Rivendell to live out the rest of her long and lonesome life.

Thranduil plotted with the human leader, Bard, and a wizard by the name of Gandalf. Myria wandered the decrepit town while they did, having no place in war council, nor did she wish to.

By the time she had returned, night had fallen and all the humans of the town were asleep. Myria ducked into her tent, desperate for some solid rest before a potential battle on the morrow. She was surprised to see Thranduil sitting awkwardyl on her cot.

"Thranduil? What are you doing here, you should be resting." Myria insisted, brow furrowed.He stood at her entrance, possibly being left waiting for quite a while.

"I wished to see you before we go to Erebor's gates in the morning. I suspect that the Dwarf will have something up his tiny sleeve. I know you are a capable fighter, but I want you to stay in town tomorrow just in case."

She protested sharply, "I am just as much a fighter as any elf in your army. I will not sit around and wait for you to return–"

"Please, Myria." He rested both of his hands on her shoulders, looking down at her with his deep blue eyes "I could not focus if I knew you were behind me somewhere. If I know you are safe, I can retrieve the jewels easier." Always about the jewels. He should have married them, she thought bitterly.

"Is that an order?"

"It is a request. From a friend." Thranduil said softly.

Myria bit her cheek, crossing her arms. "Fine. I will stay here on the morrow. But, if any fighting breaks out, I will join."

He seemed content with her answer, knowing its as far as he'll get with her stubbornness. "Very well, I'll see you when this is over." He planted a tender kiss to the top of her head before he left to his own tent.

👑

Myria could only watch from afar as negotiations with the Dwarves had clearly gone to shit. More dwarves had shown up, an entire army to match the Elves' golden one. Myria rushed back to grab her bow, bursting out of her tent to the sound of screams in the town. Surely the Dwarves wouldn't target the women and children who had stayed behind?

She was right. It was orcs who had invaded the town, cutting off exits as they slashed through defenseless crowds of people. Myria rushed to help whoever she could, shooting down orcs' fat heads whenever they got too close to a fleeing human. With her dagger, she slashed through whoever she could reach to retrieve each of her arrows.

This arduous process repeated for some time, Myria panting with effort as she continued. The sounds of screams toned done as golden-armored soldiers flooded into the cobble streets and started to push back at the beastly creatins. Myria breathed a sigh of relief, engaging another orc. It was larger than most, with armor protecting its head and chest. She slashed at his with a sword she had taken from dead enemy, yelping when he stabbed into her abdomen with his own weapon. She gasped, trying to keep her composure as he approached above her menacingly. As he lifted his sword above his head again, ready to strike down the Elf, his head was detached from his body in a spray of hot blood.

Myria flinched at the feeling on her skin, feeling disgusted more than she already was with the sweat and dirt covering her. Thranduil came from behind the orc, who was now dead on the floor. He crouched down in front of her, a frantic look in his eye that betrayed his regal appearance. "Myria, look at me!" He shouted, her blurry vision shakily focusing on him. He held her face in his hands, watching her try to keep them open. "It's okay, I'll get you help." Thranduil promised her, gingerly lifting her up princess style. He flinched when she protested in pain, clutching at her stomach to stop the blood from gushing out.

"It's okay, you'll be alright, sweet." He told her, repeating himself multiple times as if to convince himself, too.

He brought her outside of the town, where Elven medics had set up a discreet few tents disguised to the orc's vision by Elven magic. The King layed her gently on a stiff cot, petting her hair comfortingly as she screamed in pain at the medic disinfecting and stitching her wound up. He glared at the Elf assigned to help her, making the poor young fellow sweat in fear of messing uo in front of his King.

Eventually, the sounds outside died out. Thranduil regretted taking his forces to this pit of death. He had lost more Elves today than had ever been lost at one time since the Great War. Elves did not die easily. This was a massacre of great damage to their ranks, to their people. Thranduil mourned the deaths of his kin dearly.

Myria had calmed, pain dulling when given some numbing herbs. She focused her attention on Thranduil, "you came for me." She said, voice barely a whisper.

"Of course, I did. Why wouldn't I?" He asked, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles.

"Your gems...they're still locked away in the keep, aren't they?" She asked.

"The gems are not my priority. They are merely objects, remembrances. You are alive, I need you."

Myria felt tears blurr her vision, clamping her throat shut. "But–I am not from any important bloodline. I am not a Princess, nor—"

"I do not care. You are Myria. The woman who has been by my side for five thousand years. The only lady worthy of being Queen by my side is you."

Thranduil took her into his arms as she cried. He shushed her gently, hands locked into her hair as she clung to him.

"I love you, Thranduil. I have for a long, long time."

"And I, you, my dearest Myr."

[livsbrutalitys-blog]

Homecoming ✔️

a/n: This is my first time writing so please be kind and keep that in mind 🙏🏻. If you have any tips or helpful advice PLEASE let me know i am open to any kind of advice or help. Enjoy!!

warnings: none except some suggestive language

➰-smut ✔️- fluff ➿- angst

It had been a few days since Rhea had left for Raw. You wished you could’ve been there but you were injured and she had to go by herself. You and Rhea were an inseparable duo… behind the scenes. To the fans you couldn’t have wanted to be farther away from each other as you two were enemies and if you had been in the audience you would have no idea that you guys couldn’t stand not being with in arms length of each other.

She called you around 10:30 that night just as the show was about to go off in about 30 minutes. You answered

*facetime*

R: Hey baby! How’s everything going?

Y: It’s going good just watching my girl on tv. *you flip the camera towards the tv screen and then flip it back to face you* lookin’ good babe!

R: *she lets out a brief chuckle* I’d look even better with you out there with me.

Y: Oh really! Yelling at me on live tv!? *you said with a smile and a small laugh*

R: Oh cmon baby you know I don’t mean any of it, hell I don’t even write it! *she said with a smile as well knowing you were joking*

Y: I know , I know! But seriously, when are you gonna be home? I miss you so much! * you said with a small pout *

R: I know babes I miss you more than anything. I should be home later tomorrow, maybe around 6 ish? * she said with an uncertain look on her face *

Y: That’s to long in my opinion. * you said with a bratty attitude *

R: Oh don’t start being a brat on me now baby. You remember what happened last time you did that? * she raised an eyebrow *

You did indeed remember being splayed on your shared bed with her between your plush thighs, licking up your previous orgasm. You’re hands tangled in her black strands, trying to escape but, she was locked on and not stopping anytime soon.

Y: Ah yes I do remember. But I don’t think it was too bad you could’ve done a lot worse in my opinion. * shrugging your shoulders hoping that would instigate the situation *

R: Careful baby your on very thin ice. * She held her fingers up to the camera doing the small motion*

Y: Well we’ll see about that when you get home Mami. * you knew the nickname turned her on when you said it so suggestively and with that little smirk of yours that only made her go feral *

R: Ok you better be ready because you did it to yourself, my love. I’m going to go back to work I have to be on in 5. You better be watching. I love you, babes. * she said with a wink and a little kiss towards the camera before hanging up*

You sat there in the same place for a minute, ads playing while you try to mentally collect yourself. You turn towards the TV once again doing as you were told. Raw came back from commercial break.

Her music hit and you locked your eyes on the tv once more. She had a match tonight against Natalya. You love Natalya she was like a maternal figure and friend at the same time. But you really hoped that Rhea would win.

She comes into frame as the camera gets closer to her. She looks in the camera with her little smirk. You had a feeling that one was for you. She makes her way down the ramp with a steady and confident pace holding her title with pride.

She gets on the apron and does her signature pose. Looking into the camera with extreme confidence. And here’s the part she wanted you to see. She sticks her tongues out and flicks it back into her mouth then swipes her tongue over her pearly white teeth. This mf know what she’s doing.

You giggle at the action and text her.

Y: I was watching, saw what you did. Now YOU better be ready ;)

delivered

You knew she wasn’t going to respond anytime soon so, you sat back and enjoyed the show. She was in the main event so you knew this was the last match of the night. But, you were so tired and eventually fell asleep right after her match and didn’t see when she replied.

The next morning

You woke up on the couch. Searching for your phone that had been lost somewhere in the couch over night. You gave up on liking for it for now. You got up and strolled to the kitchen to make something to eat. As you were getting your smoothie ready to blend you heard a faint sound coming from the front door. It was the sound of the lock turning.

You got a little bit scared and quietly tip toed over to have a look at the door but not to close in case it was an actual threat. When it finally opened your mood completely took a turn and you ran, jumping into your girlfriends warm arms.

R: Hey baby! *she said as she kissed your forehead *

Y; Hi babe! * your smile beamed up at her as you kissed her soft lips*

Y: Wait I thought you said you’d be home later today? * you said with a slightly confused look but not upset she’s home sooner *

R: Well I was able to get an earlier flight back so I took it. * she said using her free hand to caress your cheek*

Y: I’m so happy your home early I don’t know how much longer I could’ve gone with out being with you. * you said sliding down back the floor*

R: I missed you too babes. But I saw your text last night. Did you think you’d get away with that? * she said using a finger to lift your chin to look up at her*

Shit you forgot you sent that

Y: Oh shit. * you giggle and start to back away trying to get out of the situation*

R: Nuh-uh not so fast baby girl. * she said grabbing you by the backs of your thighs signaling you to jump* Your not going anywhere.

She walks the two of you to the bedroom and to say the least you hope every homecoming ends like this one.

THE END

a/n: I hope you enjoyed this again please be kind this is my first writing so leave any helpful tips or advice it is much appreciated. If you want to be tagged in my future posts just lmk !!

[pandorasfavorite]

Filthy smut? I gotchu, here's a couple

(I'm good with prompts I just can't write lol)

Rhea and dom x reader but dom is like super submissive

One were the reader is a fellow wrestler and gets super nervous whenever dom is near because of his height and he notices and teases her abt it before, ya know

Maybe one were dom and the reader have been married for a bit and reader tells dom that she wants a baby and he goes to whatever means to uh, ✨make that happen ✨

If you don't like any of these that's totally understandable, love you tho ♡♡

6'1

AN: It's not a lot but it's something...Is it bad that I want him to take advantage of me????

5'6 isn't short. And in your defense even if it was short at least you aren't dunking under walkways or having to look down at anyone. Now with that, you don't let tall people intimidate you, you could beat them up just as easily as you could if you were 6'6. Scientifically that makes no sense, but you'll rock with it. Despite your stubborn admission to not let them intimidate you, Dominik Mysterio was the exception. And God did he love using it to his advantage.

You didn't even see him that often but he always managed to show up at the worst moment he could. INTENTIONALLY, you'd like to add. He towered over you each time he talked or smiled that adorable smile he had. Today he stood in front of you with his hair dripping from water and his skin shiny with sweat from his previous match. His gear was a little ripped and his chest was showing through, his arms were always out just how you like it. Sometimes you thought you imagined him flexing his muscles when you were watching. Like right now while you were standing in front of him.

You watched it flex for another minute while Dominik was talking, his arms were a distraction from your heart beating 100 miles per hour. He made you so nervous and his sheer height was no help. Your eyes were so glued to him that Dominik thought he’d have to move away completely to get your attention. He waves his hand in front of your face now, “What you looking at there Mami?”. Dominik spoke so smoothly it glided off the tongue. You practically deflated, like became so embarrassed at being caught you put your hands over your face. “m, so sorry”, you said behind your hands though it was slightly muffled.

You felt Dominik lay a hand on your shoulder and your chest only constricted more. He was only making it harder for you to get a grip. “There’s nothing to be sorry for, I liked it”, he replied with a smirk that showed his pearly teeth. Not that you could see, or register what he said. You still hid behind your hand and shook your head, “ I’m so embarrassed”.

Dominik now smiled slightly and grabbed your wrists to move your hands out of your face. “Don’t be, I told you I liked it. I like you”., You part your fingers to peek at him, "You do?". He nods and grabs your wrists to pull your hands off of your face. You puff out an anxious breath when the thought comes racing into your mind. You thought about how you would have to get on your tippy toes just to kiss him. But Dominik could make it easier, he could swoop you into his arms and pin you against the wall. He'd run a hand through your hair and mess it up, but regardless his lips would be on yours. 'I want to kiss him' you thought.

"Then do it"

You snap your attention right back to Dominik and somehow he has only gotten closer and he's backing you up against the wall. "What?", you stutter out with a bright red face. He laughs and touches your hair while being cocky, "You said 'I want to kiss him', I heard you sweetheart". You looked like you just got stung by a bee because your face was screwed up in embarrassment again. You try to cover your face again, but there isn't enough room between you and Dominik to lift your arms up. Instead, you lay your forehead on his chest, "It was supposed to be in my head". You feel one of his hands on the back of your head, threading his fingers through your hair. The air seems thick around you both, the desire was there, but you lacked initiative. Even though Dominik said he liked you, just maybe that wasn't enough. You lifted your head to meet his intense and serious eyes like he was plotting something. He cupped the side of your face, and for a split second, you were determined to be the person to make the first move. But when Dominik had a sweet small smile and glimmering eyes at the mere sight of your lips...the honor was all his.

So he pulled your face in, lips sliding together and noses just barely bumping against each other with the solidifying kiss. You both don't move, letting the one kiss linger between you both. But when you do pull back, you go right in for another. It was quicker, stronger, feverish; as if his lips were a cure to your madness. Every kiss has a distinct sound and the atmosphere only compelled you to tug at the loops of his pants to pull him that much closer. His other hand left your hair and slid down the side of your body, all the way down to the back of your thigh to lift up. He lifted up your leg and positioned it on his thigh, holding you there. When he pulled back his lips were a bit swollen and your hair a tousled mess. Dominik moves his hand off of your face only for you to grab it.

You slid his hand down the front of your body, always down to where you felt you needed him most.

His tattooed hand cups your covered pussy and your mouth parts with excitement. Only for Dominik to turn away and leave you pressed against the wall. Remember how you never let someone taller than you, take advantage? Well, you stomped towards Dominik, hot on his trail. You grab him by the back of his arm and you pull him around to face you. Normally you would be struck with silence because of his tall figure and devilishly handsome grin, but not now. You point at him and jam your finger into his chest, “Don’t start that with me”, you now cross your arms across your chest. He looks down at you and his hair barely covers his playful look, “Start what?”. Both you hands rear back to smack his chest, but Dominik didn’t budge let alone wince; “And don’t play dumb either!”.

Your quiet demeanor went back to the fiery one Dominik loved and remembered all so well. "There's my girl", he commented and ran a hand through his air. You look up at him with an angry look that to him looks like you are pouting. You sigh in annoyance, "What are you talking about now?". Dominik inhales deeply before he goes on a whole speech about you.

"My girl is shy when I'm around, not quiet. I know you get nervous because I'm so tall, but I also know how much it turns you on. I've seen the way your thighs rub together every time you look up at me. I like when you get mad-", he leans down just a bit to antagonize you and he grabs your wrist lightly, bringing it to touch his hard cock. "Feel that baby?", he rasps and rubs the inside of your wrist with his thumb.

-------------------------------------------

You had dragged Dominik into your personal dressing room, pushing him to sit on the couch. He made moves to sit up completely but you sunk to your knees and pushed him back by the chest to relax. Your hands fumble with his belt and Dominik is already swallowing in anticipation. "You don't have to do this", he rasps out but his adam's apple is bobbing with every swallow of a breathy sigh. You yanked down his pants completely and pressed a firm kiss to his clothed cock, listening to the way Dominik sighed and embedded his fingers into your hair. Then finally you pulled his cock out and stuck your tongue out to graze the tip, his fingers tightened and he cussed. Another kitten licks and Dominik groans, "Fuck mami come on', you gonna tease me?".

With that you take him into your mouth, his cock sliding against your tongue and down your throat. You gag each time the tip of his cock goes too far back and each time Dominik tries to pull out of your mouth. Only for you to grab him by the base of his cock and shove him further into your mouth. "Baby, take a break", he pants and rubs his thumb against the temple of your forehead. You pull back, and a string of saliva connects your lips to his cock, "For me or for you?" you grin. His lips twitch up into a smile and his cock jumps at the sight of you. Flushed, swollen, and wet lips, crazy hair with your tanktop falling off of your shoulders. He doesn't say anything back, he is stuck in the trance of mesmerizing you. But that is quickly over when your hand wraps firmly around the middle of his cock.

You slide your hand up and down, spitting on his cock just to make it feel better. Dominik clearly appreciates the gesture because his hips flick up and his head tilts back against the cushion. "Mm that's it mami, don't fucking stop. My good little girl", he grunts and groans with every swipe of your hand.

[allmyn1ghts]

Can I pls have Dominik Mysterio x Fem reader where they confess their feelings for each other in the rain with the prompts "I didn't know people like you existed" + "I wasn't expecting you to change my life... but you did"? Make it fluffy!

confessions in the rain ༘⋆✿

Dominik Mysterio x fem!reader

synopsis: you and dom finally confess those hidden feelings :)

warnings: none! just fluff and some cursing

wc: 871

a/n: thank you for this super cute request, I hope I did it justice! enjoy, love! <3

Dominik was your best friend and the man you've been swooning over the past year. 

A year ago you couldn't stand the thought of him or the rest of The Judgement Day. You felt that their presence every Monday night was just… annoying to say the least. But, After many many many attempts at getting you to join, you finally gave in. Rhea was the one who convinced you. 

“C'mon y/n think about all the opportunities we could get you! You could be the next Women’s Champion. I've seen how hard you've been working for that opportunity. Let JD help you.” 

"Fine, but if you guys screw me over, it's not gonna be pretty"

"Now why would we do that y/n?" she says with her signature smirk

So here you are now, the women's Champion, with the four people you now consider family. Shortly after joining, you realized that they weren't that terrible after all. And that's also when you stopped seeing Dom as a nuisance and saw him as the sweet and caring person he truly is. Out of everyone, you and Dom were the closest. The two you just clicked, always together, whether it be ringside supporting each other or just chilling, y'all were inseparable. Your little crush on Dom didn't go unnoticed either. The group often teased you when Dom wasn't around.  

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

“Shut up Preist, I wasn't even looking at him”

“Sure”

or

“Finn, have you seen Dom? I gotta talk to him before his match”

“Nope, I haven't seen your little boyfriend, I'm surprised you don't know where he is.”

“Ha ha very funny, thanks for your help.”

“Anytime love!”

-

Each day your feelings for him grew and you only hoped he felt the same. Telling him the truth was always on your mind. Could it possibly ruin the friendship you have with him? Maybe. but, you never know unless you try… right? Yeah, that wasn't an option at the moment. 

After an eventful Raw, it was time for everyone to get back to the hotel. Everyone seemed to have left already except for you and Dom. It was weird, the five of you guys usually always left together. “You whipped some major ass out there!’ you complimented Dom as the two of yall packed up. “You think so? Felt like I didn't give my best tonight.” he shrugs. “Dom you always give a good show, dont doubt it.” He smiles at your comment. “Now cmon, I think the cab is here” You wrap an arm around his neck and head towards the exit. What you didn't know is that one, it was raining, and two, once you exit, you can't get back in. 

“Oh shit! I didn't know it was gonna be pouring out here,” you said running toward the door. You attempted to open the door. “What the…” you tried again. “Dom I think we're stuck out here…” You begin to anxiously laugh at the situation. “You know this is your fault right” You look at Dom like he has two heads. “My fault?! How was I supposed to know it was gonna be pouring out and-” “Relax y/n, I'm just fucking with you” he laughs at your mini outburst. 

“You're an asshole, you know that right?” the uncomfortable feeling of being wet starting to sink in.

“An asshole you looove”

“Yeah right, in your dreams” 

The two of you laugh and settle into a comfortable silence.

Dom notices you start to shiver. “Here take my jacket” He handed it to you and you put it on quickly. “Thanks” you smile to yourself. Little acts like this is what made you fall in love with him, if only you could tell him that. Minutes pass by still waiting for transportation, and the two of you switch between looking at your phones or watching the rain fall peacefully. Dom decides to break that comfortable silence. 

“Y/n can I tell you something?”

“Of course, what's up”

He turns to look down at you. “I don't know why I have this sudden urge to tell you this but fuck it,” you look at him confused. “Y/N I like you, a lot." Oh? Oh. "Even before you joined JD, when you hated my guts. You're- you're just so perfect, and funny, and beautiful and I can't explain what you do to me, but I love it. I didn't know people like you existed. You mean a lot to me and I don't even know if you feel the same b-” You cut him off, putting your hand on his wet cheek, and smile. “Dom, I've had the biggest crush on you for months now. I'm surprised you didn't notice! He stares at you baffled. "You're lying" "I swear!" Laughs come from both of you, he leans in, kissing you softly. He's the one to break the kiss. “I wasn't expecting you to change my life... but you did" You give him the biggest smile, and as you begin to respond to him, you are interrupted by the sound of a car horn. It's Rhea, Finn, and Damien all smiling at the two of you from the car.

“About damn time!” Damien says. 

i hope you all enjoyed! pls comment and reblog! <3

request - masterlist - about me - who I write for

[demeterdefence]

been thinking a lot about how lore olympus really just could not fathom the concept of found family, it absolutely HAD to have a traditional blood-related family for the ending which is just ... so rachel honestly lmao we really should have known.

there were a lot of instances in the series where it almost seemed like rachel went out of her way to paint biological families as inherently dysfunctional, or at least not all they're cracked up to be - aphrodite is disdained by ares' family, zeus and hera are constantly arguing / zeus is constantly unfaithful, rhea and ouranos are an abusive marriage that begets three wildly traumatized sons, etc and so forth. that's not to say all families were bad or flawed (whether that was a choice or rachel spent so little time on them it just didn't come up) but the end result is that there were a lot of broken biological families in the series.

i think rachel wanted to demonstrate that you do not have to stick with an abusive family if they hurt you - that blood is not the defining aspect of family and bonds, that you can make your own and build your own family. i think rachel thought she was writing that, with how hades hates his dad and how persephone distances herself from demeter (who did nothing wrong but anyways.) the problem is, she absolutely does not follow through with it. at the end of the day, rachel is going to prioritize blood bonds and biological children over found family, because to her, that's the only family that counts.

like, hades raised thanatos from childhood and abuses the fuck out of him, completely traumatizes the god of death to the point thanatos is genuinely afraid of hades. thanatos is mocked, derided, scorned, and scoffed at by hades, constantly. thanatos did not have a CHOICE in who raised him, his mother abandoned him into hades' care. and hades does not for a single moment let up on how resentful he is about it. when thanatos finally admits that he only had hades as a parental figure (or ANY kind of family, tbh), hades turns it into how that affects him, how it makes him feel. after, we get two jokes about how hades is thanatos' dad now, and the last scene we ever get of thanatos is that "sometimes hades talks to him." thanatos never shows up in hades' daydreams of a family, he never shows up as a person who is important to hades. for centuries, hades was in charge of raising thanatos, not once does he ever appear in any of hades' dreams or wants regarding family. not biological family, so fuck off.

more to the point, the narrative makes it explicit to us that hades can't have children - it's brought up three times specifically, to drive the point home that hades wants children, he's definitely tried to have children, and it just won't happen. melinoe was seen as a way around that, and i won't lie, compared to rachel's usual hamfisted approaches, it wasn't the worst idea to have. but by the end of the series, it's shown that oh, nope, hades can have children (only with persephone though) and also they look like him, because biological bonds are everything. you know who doesn't count? dionysus, who was kidnapped from his dad and raised as a pet project for persephone. the kid helps her conquer winter or whatever the fuck that plot point was, but because he's not their biological child, hades and persephone ditch him after the final battle and throw him his old mom back to get rid of him.

biological children aren't a bad thing and it's not a bad thing to want or have them, but it's so fucking telling that hades and persephone have multiple people in their lives who should be considered family, and are picked up and discarded summarily once their use is over. dionysus was their proxy kid, and we literally do not see hades interact with him except maybe twice. thanatos gets absolutely trounced and i'll never not be angry about that. i don't even know what's going on with persephone's half brother, but he shows up for a single panel in the finale and then disappears.

wouldn't it have been so powerful if hades, an abuse victim, decided to be the father thanatos deserved? wouldn't it have been more in line with the supposed message of the story if hades and persephone opened their homes to people who once felt like them, abandoned and unwanted? at the very least, couldn't they have shown love to the people in their lives who sacrificed so much and put up with so much from them? what exactly is the measure of a family in lore olympus? we can't control who births us, but we can control the hurt we ourselves give, and the love we share, and that would have been an infinitely better ending for the two most selfish characters to show their growth. another disappointing pin in an already massively disappointing ending.

[exitpursuedbyavulcan]

The Silver Dragon (2)

Youth

Lady Arianwyn and Prince Aemond grow up side-by-side.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x OC (Daemon and Rhea's daughter)

Warnings: none

Author's Note: This chapter is entirely new! The old chapter 2 will be back later as chapter 3. Also, I have not been around babies or toddlers or even kids under 10 since I was that age myself, so if I got any childhood development facts wrong, just pretend that I didn't!

Series Masterlist - Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

Only four days after Prince Aemond Targaryen saw his eleventh moon, he took his first steps. It was a matter of necessity. His nursemaid had set him on the nursery floor too far from Aria – all the way on the other side of the rug!

He did not really know who Aria was.

He did not know that her full name was ‘Arianwyn,’ for everyone only called her Aria – except for the large men in bronze suits, who called her ‘Lady,’ or sometimes “Little Lady.” He did not know that she was his cousin, as he did not know what a cousin was. He did not know that she had not always been with him or that she was younger than him, for he had no memories without her there.

All he knew was that Aria was always there, and he was always with her.

But in that moment, she was too far away. He took one look at Aria’s sad and confused face, and he knew he needed to get to her. If he didn’t do it soon, she would start to cry. He hated it when she cried. It made him want to cry.

So, he started crawling toward her. Slowly, he was moving too slowly. She looked more and more like she was going to cry, and Aemond decided there wouldn’t be anything worse in the world.

He pushed his arms against the floor, bracing himself as he raised up onto his legs, as the bigger people did. When he lifted his arms again, he saw Aria staring at him, no longer looking like she was about to cry. While he was glad, he still wanted to go to her.

“Hurry, get the queen!”

Aemond remembered that last word, ‘queen.’ He heard it a lot when his second-favorite person was around. Was she here, too?

He turned his head to look at the part of the wall where people came through but didn’t see anyone. The turn cost him, though. His legs grew wobbly, and he had a sinking feeling in his stomach that he was going to fall. He couldn’t prevent the fall, but maybe he could control it.

His arms flailing, Aemond leaned forward and took three steps closer to Aria before he fell on his face.

Three steps were enough, though. Aria had crawled forward to meet him in the middle of the rug, a wide smile on her face as she squealed with delight. Tears had already sprung to Aemond’s eyes from his fall, but when he looked at Aria, he forgot why he had wanted to cry.

“Aria!”

“Aymmmmmuh!”

Aemond knew words now – several of them. It infuriated Arianwyn. Especially when his favorite word was her name, and she could not say his back.

She knew his name. Whenever someone said “Aemond,” she knew they were talking about him. She just couldn’t get the word out. The first part, the “ay” sound, she usually got right, but it always fell apart from there.

The worst part was seeing his frustration when she failed, yet again, to say his name. She wanted Aemond to like her – needed him to like her.

He wasn’t like Aegon, who was too big and played in ways she couldn’t, or Helaena, who barely liked to play at all. They weren’t even there most of the time. They were big enough to leave the nursery and go to different places like “garden” or “great hall.”

But Aemond was perfect. He played exactly how she liked, and though he was bigger than her, he never played too roughly. When Aunt – who Aemond called “mama” – took Aegon and Helaena out of the nursery, he stayed with her. He always stayed with her. Even when they were in their cradles, she could still see him from across the room.

“Aymmnuh,” she tried again. And failed again.

Aemond frowned and shook his head. “No.”

Another favorite word of his – Aegon taught it to him. Arianwyn huffed, the sound echoed by the hatchling dragon sunning itself in the window.

Some weeks prior, she had woken in the hour of the wolf to find that the egg that had lain in her cradle had shattered. Shards of black speckled with storm gray and ice blue were strewn across her blanket, and the comforting heat she had grown accustomed to warming herself against was gone. As she began to cry, she noticed a shape looming over her, perched on the edge of her cradle.

The night nurses screamed, shouting at the guards outside the door. Both the man in red and black and the man in bronze looked at her and the dark shape at her feet with wide eyes before running down the corridor so fast their clanging armor sounded like a thunderstorm.

The noise woke Aemond, who looked from Arianwyn to the shape that had leaned down to peer at her. “Dwa- dwagon!”

Arianwyn watched as it jumped down from its perch. She could barely make out the shape in the darkness and against the deep brown of her fur blankets. It did look like the toys they played with that the others called “dragon.” Two membranous wings, a thin, flicking tail, a long neck covered with small spines, and eyes like living ice.

It moved cautiously as it approached her until she could see the faint lines of gray and white within its blue eyes—a dragon. Her dragon.

As she now frowned at Aemond, her dragon was sprawled on the stone of the windowsill, wings spread lazily as it echoed her frustration without even opening its eyes.

“Dragon!” Aemond exclaimed.

“Muhmuhnd!” She was so close, she knew it. She had all the pieces. She just needed to put them together. “Ay!”

Aemond stared at her, a hint of a smile on his face from knowing she was about to try again.

“Ay!” Her face was scrunched in determination as she shouted. The nurses paused their work and looked at her as well.

“Ay-muh!”

Aemond started clapping. One of the nurses whispered to another before slipping out the door.

“Ay-muhn!”

In the window, Arianwyn’s dragon sat up, small clouds of smoke puffing from his nostrils as it began to climb down from the window.

“Ay-muhn-duh! Aemond!”

One of the nurses pressed a hand to her chest and said a word Arianwyn didn’t know. The others started rushing around. But Arianwyn didn’t care. She was looking at Aemond, who clapped and smiled wider than she had ever seen.

“Aemond!” She shouted again, delighting in his responding laugh.

He pointed at her. “Aria!”

“Aemond!”

“Aria!”

“Aemond!”

There was a new baby in the nursery—two, actually, but Daeron had already been there for four moons, so his novelty had worn off.

Aemond and Arianwyn sat together on one end of the room, watching as he was held by his mother, Rhaenyra, who was also Aemond’s sister. That made him Aemond’s nephew, the nurses had explained.

They had also explained what he was to Aria, but he didn’t quite understand it, as it was somehow much more complicated. Aegon said he understood, and Helaena had nodded, which meant she probably understood, too. She didn’t talk much, and when she did, it never made much sense.

Aegon also explained that the new babe, whose name was “Jacaerys,” but everyone just called “Jace,” was something called a bastard. It meant that Jace’s father wasn’t his father; some other man was. But that didn’t make sense. Rhaenyra was married to Laenor, which meant Laenor was Jace’s father, for the Mother only gave babes to people who were married and very much in love.

When Aemond had asked more about it, Aegon rolled his eyes and said, “You’ll understand when you’re older.”

It was something that was often said to Aemond and Arian, and they did not like it very much. They would have to wait a long time to be older, and they didn’t want to wait.

They also did not like that they were not allowed to play with Jace as they did with Daeron. Rhaenyra said they were “too big.” But when they asked Rhaenyra if she would play with them while Jace was sleeping, she also said no, even though she was definitely big enough. She only ever came to the nursery when Jace was awake and left the moment he fell asleep.

Aemond decided he did not like Rhaenyra.

She had never come to see him, or Aegon, or Helaena, or Aria before Jace was born. Now that she had finally come, she all but ignored them. When they tried to talk to her, she seemed annoyed. Worst of all, he had seen her giving Aria a mean look several times.

His mother did not get along with Rhaenyra very well, so he assumed it was fine not to like her.

However, his father loved Rhaenyra. He came to visit her and her babe often, which would annoy Aemond if it didn’t also mean he got to see his father more.

Since his father was the king, he was very busy and didn’t always have time to see his children in the nursery. But now that the nursery was very full with six children, he made the time, Aemond’s grandsire, who was also the Hand of the King, said.

The king spent most of his time with Jace, but that was probably because Jace was the newest. He still held Daeron, played with Arianwyn and her dragon, complimented Helaena’s insects, admired Aemond's drawings, ruffled Aegon’s hair, and read them all stories from Old Valyria – the fantastical empire where their ancestors were from.

Aemond loved those stories. So did Aria. They tried to memorize them so they could tell them to each other whenever the king wasn’t there. Sometimes, they even acted out some of the stories, with Helaena, Daeron, and several of Aria’s attendants–including her lady’s maid, Brynna, and any number of her twelve guards–as their audience.

Her attendants also told them stories about Aria’s other ancestors, the Bronze Kings. Before there were any Targaryens or Dragons in Westeros, the Bronze Kings ruled over Runestone. One day, Aria would, too.

They didn’t know what Aemond would do. He was a prince, but he wasn’t the heir. There weren’t many stories about second sons. Whenever they asked, they were again told, “You’ll understand when you’re older.” But they never worried for long. There were lots of other exciting things to think about, like when Aemond’s dragon egg would hatch.

Arianwyn looked around the large room with wide eyes. She had never been to this room before, even though she had now been to many different rooms in the Red Keep. At least Aemond was there, so she wasn’t alone. Still, she wished she had been allowed to bring her dragon – which she had named ‘Emrys’ after a recent visit from her cousin, Ser Gerold.

Brynna was also there, but she sat in a chair by the door sewing something, so she couldn’t hold Arianwyn’s hand. Aemond did so happily. She was pretty sure he was also nervous. His eyes were moving all around the room, too. But his face didn’t look afraid.

Aegon was also there, but Arianwyn didn’t find comfort in his presence. Ever since Aegon left the nursery, he became mean. He was never very nice, but Arianwyn never thought he had been mean. He liked to make jokes that were not very funny, but he laughed anyway.

Most of the jokes were about Aemond and how his egg hadn’t hatched. It didn’t make much sense to Arianwyn, as Aegon’s egg hadn’t hatched either. But he had just returned from a trip to Dragonstone – their family’s other castle – with a hatchling from a different egg. He named it Sunfyre, because it was gold and pink and shiny.

Helaena also went, and though she did not find a dragon from Dragonstone, when she went with their father and Aegon to show Sunfyre the Dragonpit, she met Dreamfyre, who was once ridden by Princess Rhaena, their grandfather’s sister. Helaena and Dreamfyre bonded almost instantly, and the king was very happy.

Aemond and Arianwyn hadn’t been allowed to go along to Dragonstone at all. Arianwyn, because she was too little and already had a dragon, and Aemond, just because he was too little. He had been sad since then, and nothing Arianwyn did seemed to cheer him up for very long.

She squeezed his hand a little, causing him to look at her, his face still empty. “Are you excited?"

At the other end of the table, Aegon scoffed. “There’s nothing to be excited about, trust me.”

Arianwyn rolled her eyes. The first time she did it, it annoyed Aegon, so now she did it whenever possible. “I’m excited. I want to learn everything!”

The corner of Aemond’s mouth quirked up as if he would smile. But it fell back when Aegon started talking again. “You want to learn ‘everything?’ Perhaps you should become a maester, then.”

His tone was mocking, but Arianwyn considered the possibility. The maesters had the biggest library at the Citadel in Oldtown. Perhaps she should be a master; then, she could read all the stories she wanted. But that would require her to be in Oldtown, which was very far away from Runestone.

“Can I be a maester and Lady of Runestone?” she asked.

It went completely silent. Then, Brynna sighed sadly in the corner, and Aegon started laughing.

Arianwyn’s stomach sank. Had she said something wrong? She looked around, hoping someone else would tell her why Aegon was laughing. But Brynna just looked tired, and her guard for the day, Ser Warren, looked like he was hurting, or maybe had smelled something bad. Either way, his face was all scrunched up.

“Shut up!” Aemond shouted, startling her enough that she clapped her hands over her ears. He glared at his brother, his face reddened and angry. “Don’t laugh at her!”

Aegon kept laughing. Aemond kept shouting. Ser Christor looked like he was about to panic. Brynna abandoned her sewing and ran to calm everyone down, but it didn’t work. Tears started to sting behind Arianwyn’s eyes, so she shut them tight, ducked her chin, and shook her head back and forth. That always made the nightmares go away. Maybe it would make this go away, too.

Suddenly, Aegon’s laughing and Aemond’s shouting stopped. She lifted her hands away from her ears and opened her eyes just enough to see Maester Orwyle entering the room.

“Prince Aegon, perhaps it would be wise to keep your lessons separate from Prince Aemond and Lady Arianwyn’s.” His voice was just as gentle as when he came to the nursery when one of them was sick, but Aegon still scowled at him. “Unless you would prefer to repeat the fundamentals of the curriculum?”

Aegon pushed his chair away from the table so fast it fell over and gave a smile that made Arianwyn nervous. “I don’t give a fuck.”

Ser Christor’s eyes went wide. Brynna gasped and put a hand on her chest. Aegon didn’t acknowledge them before stomping out of the room.

After the door slammed shut, Orwyle sighed. He smiled at Aemond and Arianwyn, but it seemed fake. “I am very excited you two are beginning your lessons; you have always been curious.”

He sat at the table across from them and opened a large, messy book. “Before we begin, do you have any questions about how lessons work?”

Aemond said nothing, pouting, as he often did around Aegon, with his arms crossed.

Arianwyn raised her hand above her head. “Grand Maester, what is a ‘fuck?’”

“Just grab it!”

“It’s too high!”

Arianwyn huffed, crossing her arms as she looked up at Aemond, standing atop a chair trying to reach a large leather-bound book. “Do you want me to try?”

“No!” Aemond’s face reddened. “I can do it. Besides, you’re shorter than me – how could you reach it if I can’t?”

She thought for a moment. If Emrys lived in the Keep, she could have him pry the book out, but he was in the Dragonpit now. Even after three moons, she still woke, expecting to find him tucked against her chest, fast asleep.

But he’d gotten too big to stay in the castle, and Arianwyn had to take him to the Dragonpit. The king and Aemond went with her and helped her with her High Valyrian while she explained to Emrys that he had to stay there now. It didn’t stop him from flying back to the castle for the first fortnight, but he eventually learned to stay in his den.

“I don’t know,” she finally admitted. “Maybe I’ll have an idea if I get on the chair.”

Aemond shook his head, his brow set. “No, you could fall.” Before she could get her next argument out, he continued, “I can do it. Watch.”  

He braced one hand on the edge of the shelf while the other just skimmed the spine of the book they were trying to reach, then jumped. Arianwyn called his name, certain he would fall and hurt himself or even destroy the book.

But then, Aemond was again standing steady on the chair, the book in his hands and a happy grin.

“You did it!” The very moment he was off the chair, Arianwyn hugged him tightly. He could not hug her back with the heavy book in his hands, so he just dropped his head on her shoulder. “Come on, let’s go read!”

She dragged him back to the table in the small alcove, where they had already set out pen and paper. Once Aemond had set the book down and opened it to the first page, she picked up the pen and got ready to write.

“Before the Andu-Andals came to Westeros, and long before Aegon Targaryen con… conchu… um…”

Arianwyn pointed to the word he struggled with. “Conquered. Remember how he’s called ‘Aegon the Conqueror?’”

Aemond’s cheeks flushed. “Yeah, I know. Con-kerd. I was just…making sure I was saying it right.”

She didn’t quite believe him, but she didn’t want to correct him either, so she gave him a smile and nodded for him to continue.

“…before Aegon Targaryen conquered the Seven Kingdoms with his dragons, the lands were inhuh- inhah… inhabee...”

Arianwyn again pointed at the book. “‘In-hah-bih-ted.’ I’ve heard it before but can’t remember what it means. Do you?”

“I…” He slumped, looking pointedly away from her. “No, I don’t.”

They both looked at the book for a moment before Arianwyn handed the pen and paper to Aemond. “Write it down,” she instructed. “In our lessons with Orwyle tomorrow, we can ask him.”

Aemond looked from the book to the paper, then slid the book to her. It made more sense this way, Arianwyn thought. She was better at pronouncing big words, and he was better at writing things down so they would be ‘legible,’ a word Orwyle said but had never really explained.

“In-hah-bih-ted,” Aemond said as he wrote the word down. He whispered the pronunciation a few more times before looking back at Arianwyn. “I’m ready for more.”

She smiled broadly before looking at the page again. “The lands were inhabited by the First Men, who had built mighty kingdoms that…”

When he was younger, Aemond used to look at the Dragonpit from the seat at the nursery window. For hours, he would dream about one day walking through its mighty doors, mounting his own dragon, and finally claiming his birthright as a Targaryen prince.

Now, he had half a mind to tear down those doors himself.

The task would be far easier with the assistance of a dragon, however, which at the age of eight, Aemond still did not have.

Aegon and Helaena did. His bastard nephews did, somehow. Arianwyn did. But Aemond did not.

Still, he was forced to attend lessons with the Dragonkeepers, watching the others and only imagining doing the same with his own dragon. It wasn’t so bad when Aria was with him. Aegon made jokes, but stopped when she snapped back at him. After that, he would target their nephews. Aemond sometimes even laughed with him.

But then, during one lesson, Dreamfyre snapped at the younger dragons as they pranced around her. She did not cause any physical harm, but Vermax refused to leave his den for days, and Sunfyre would splay out on all fours the moment he saw the mighty she-dragon and stay that way until she left.

After that, the Dragonkeepers decided it prudent to separate Dreamfyre from the younger dragons. Not entirely, for she needed to learn to tolerate them before they could all fly together. She would continue to train with only one – Emrys.

It made sense. Emrys annoyed Dreamfyre the least. And when Aegon made Aria mad, the black dragon would often snap at Sunfyre.

So, Aemond was left to face the torment of being a Targaryen without a dragon alone.

Without Aria there to stop him, Aegon redoubled his teasing. Worse still, the bastards figured out that if they followed Aegon’s lead and made their own jokes at Aemond’s expense, he would not make jokes about them.

The Dragonpit, once a source of hope and inspiration, was now Aemond’s hell.

It started with small, simple japes or whispered comments about his lack of a dragon. But over time, it worsened.

The remarks became crueler and, sometimes, included a crudeness that rankled Aemond. “It’s still good practice for you,” Aegon said. “Even without a dragon, you’ll still need to know how to ride whatever beast mother sends you off to marry.”

The jokes evolved past mere verbal mockery. Once, Aegon and his bastard lackeys had an old saddle that one of their ancestors had used brought in. For Aemond to practice his riding stance, they said. But when he took the seat, he found himself sitting atop a pile of dragon dung they had placed in the saddle and concealed with a sheet of burlap.

He never should have trusted them. He knew it.

But he wanted to.

He wanted to practice his riding stance, to finally sit in a dragon’s saddle, even if it was on the ground rather than an actual dragon. He wanted to feel reins in his hand and imagine the wind flowing past him. And a part of him even wanted to be friends with his brother and nephews.

That small, weak part of him was soon thoroughly snuffed out.

Just after his ninth nameday, Aemond was approached by Aegon and their nephews. He’d long since vowed not to trust them, but his brother’s words shot through his defenses like Valyrian steel through armor.

“Let’s go get you a dragon, brother.”

“What?” Aemond’s heart stopped in his chest. Had one of the she-dragons laid a new clutch of eggs, or had one of the eggs in the warming chamber hatched? Perhaps a new wild dragon had been spotted?

“Look, you’ve just celebrated your nameday,” there was something genuine in Aegon’s voice, unbelievable as it was. He set a hand on Aemond’s shoulder, but it didn’t reassure him as much as it unsettled him. “You’re nearly a man. And you’ve been training with the Dragonkeepers for so long that you’re more than ready to try and claim a dragon. Unless you’re still waiting on that egg?”

That egg, once a deep blue swirling with purple, green, and silver wisps, had turned to stone years ago. It still waited by the hearth in his chambers, just in case of a miracle. He shook his head.

Aegon smiled and turned toward the dragon dens. “Come on then, let’s go.”

“Do the Dragonkeepers know?”

Lucerys ran up behind them, a half-toothless smile splitting his face. “No! We –”

“We didn’t want to tell them because… well,” Jacaerys stuttered momentarily, and Aemond’s faith wavered.

“They wouldn’t allow it if they knew.” Aegon didn’t look back as he led them down the sloping entrance to the dragon dens. “I can’t understand why. Surely, they know you’re more than ready.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Just imagine the look on their faces when they see you come into the arena on the back of a full-grown dragon!”

And Aria, Aemond thought. She would be thrilled for him. He could picture it perfectly, the gleam of utter glee in her eyes as she smiled as wide as she could. And she would be able to ride Emrys soon, she’d told him. If he claimed an adult dragon, they could fly together.

The fantasy ended the moment the last of the daylight disappeared. That rush of anticipation faded, leaving him with only reluctance and fear.

Not that he had time to act on it before Aegon seized his arm and pointed into the massive passages lit only by distant torches. “Terrax makes his den down there.”

Aemond nearly choked as he named the formidable dragon that had hatched during Aegon the Conqueror’s reign and remained unclaimed since. “You want me to claim Terrax?”

“Yes!” Aegon spoke as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Don’t you think you deserve one of the largest and most powerful dragons in the world?”

“I… I suppose so.”

Aegon patted Aemond’s shoulder, then pushed him forward a few steps, sand flying up around him. “Then get on!”

He made no move to follow. Neither did their bastard nephews.

“Are you not coming with me?” The thought of approaching Terrax was daunting enough. To do it alone was nearly unthinkable.

Lucerys opened his mouth, but Jacaerys thumped him before he could say anything. Aegon just held Aemond’s gaze. “We are but must follow behind, so we don’t spook Terrax. Too many unfamiliar scents will put him on edge.”

It made sense, according to everything he’d learned about dragons. Unbonded dragons were especially sensitive to unfamiliar people, it was why novice Dragonkeepers were always accompanied by an elder.

Still, this wasn’t something Aemond wanted to do alone. “But you will be behind me?”

“We will,” Aegon assured, a hint of annoyance entering his voice.

“You swear it?”

“I swear.”

Aemond searched his brother’s face for any hint of deception but found none. Either he had become a more proficient liar, or he was telling the truth. This was his brother, his future king. If he couldn’t trust Aegon, who could he trust?

He could trust Aria. Always. If only she were here, he would be far more confident. And braver – he wouldn’t let her see him afraid. If she were here, he’d march right into Terrax’s den and lay his claim. He remembered the image he’d pictured of her proud face when he told her he’d claimed a dragon and decided he would do anything to make it real.

One step forward. Two. Three.

It was not long before it was so dark that when he looked behind him, he could not see Aegon, Jacaerys, or Lucerys. But knowing they were there was still a comfort, even if he had to walk the shadowed distances between torches.

The dragon dens, at last, came into view. The first few – one on the left, two on the right – were empty. The next one on the left had a massive nest of straw, wood, and sand occupying nearly every crevice of the room.

A low growl echoed through the corridor. Perhaps it was simply a dragon snoring. Maybe one had already scented him. The only way to know for certain was to continue.

As he approached the next den on the right, the growl came again, louder this time. Aemond said a swift prayer before moving closer, as quietly as he could.

He pressed his back to the wall and crept forward, waiting for the den itself to come into view. Waiting to see what lay inside. He reached the threshold and slowly peeked into the den.

A large green eye met his.

Terrax whipped his massive head toward Aemond, letting out a piercing roar.

“Ly.. lykirī! Dohaerās!” Be calm. Serve.

Terrax did not. A glow began in his throat, and heat threatened to overwhelm Aemond.

He was going to burn him.

Aemond ran, stumbling in the sand. He had to get away, get out, escape.

“Aegon!” It was both plea and warning.

No answer came.

“Aegon!”

The heat was growing, growing, growing. A whooshing noise chased him.

“Aegon! Jacaerys! Lucerys! Help!”

The tunnel was bright as day now. Sweat rapidly formed and fell from his brow.

The fire was upon him.

He had one last prayer.

“Aria!”

Aria was waiting in the library when Aemond finally escaped the thorough scoldings he’d received from both Elder Dantis, the leader of the Dragonkeepers, and his mother. “Aemond! Come look what Ser Gerold sent from Runestone!”

He should have been thrilled, should have felt excitement rushing in his veins at the prospect of new books directly from Aria’s home. But he wasn’t. He wasn’t even heartened by the fact that she’d waited for him for so long. He felt… nothing.

“Aemond?” As he came closer, she seemed to finally notice his disheveled appearance. The ends of his hair had been burnt away, and soot and sand clung to his clothes. “What happened?”

“I…” He took his seat, keeping his gaze on the blank parchment before him. This was what they always did: sit together while Aria read, and he wrote down new words or questions they had. It was his favorite part of the day.

Why did the prospect now make him want to cry?

He shook his head.

Aria exchanged a glance with her guard – Ser Christor always seemed to be on duty while they were in the library. She moved her chair closer to his. “Lēkia?”

He squeezed his eyes shut. Her voice always soothed him and made him feel happy and safe. But right now, it seemed to echo Terrax's horrible roaring.

A small, gentle hand came to rest on his. The touch… felt good—soft, safe, and cool.

But then she spoke again. “Please, are you alright?”

Aemond managed a slight nod. Terrax’s fire went above him, so he managed to escape without any burns, but his clothes and pride were ravaged. As was his faith in his brothers and nephews.

“Why won’t you say anything?” Damn it all, she was about to cry. He could not stand to hear anyone speaking right now, not even her. Yet he could not stand making her cry, either.

He picked up the quill she’d laid out for him, dipping it carelessly into the inkwell. He wrote, “I am well, but I really badly don’t feel like talking.”

“Oh…” Aria frowned but nodded. Aemond knew not talking would be hard for her; she always had so much to say. But she was willing to be silent for him. He could have kissed her for it.

She moved the book between them and began to open it before shutting it again, reaching over it, and grabbing Aemond’s parchment. There was little ink left in the quill, but she just managed to squeeze out, “Tap my hand when you want to turn the page.”       

It felt like everyone in the whole world was looking at Arianwyn. It was certainly everyone in her world.

The king and queen. Aegon, Helaena, and Aemond. Princess Rhaenys and Lord Corlys. Ser Criston Cole. All her guards from Runestone. The Grand Maester and Orwyle. The other lords of the Small Council. Countless other lords and ladies that Arianwyn had met but did not remember well.

Ser Gerold had arrived only the day before with several lords and ladies from Runestone and their bannermen.

Even Rhaenyra was there, though she didn’t look very happy about it. Ser Laenor was next to her, Jace and Luke in front of them, their dark eyes wide as they looked at Arianwyn and Emrys. She tried not to look at their eyes for too long – it felt rude, considering those eyes were quite the source of gossip.

“Emrys umbā, āeksio.” Elder Dantis motioned toward her now-saddled dragon. “Īlos pradagon?” Emrys is ready, lady. Shall we begin?

“Issa,” Arianwyn replied. She wasn’t quite sure whether she was really ready or not, but she couldn’t disappoint all those who had come to watch her first flight. So, she approached Emrys, stroking the smooth black scales of his snout.

He had grown impressively, now nearly twice as large as the King’s wheelhouse. According to the Dragonkeepers, it was unusual for a dragon to grow this fast away from Dragonstone or Valyria. There was much speculation about why, but Arianwyn didn’t care. She would love him no matter his size, though it did help that he was already large enough to ride.

He grumbled slightly, his icy eyes glancing at the crowd and the scales and spikes along his spine flaring. In many respects, she thought, he was quite like a spoiled cat.

“Hae urnēbosy pōnte daor gaomās,” Arianwyn whispered. Try to act like they aren’t watching us.

His grumbling turned to whining.

“Sepār zūgan,” she admitted, “yn kesir kosti. Īlon kosti gīmin. Ao kostā gīmin.” I’m nervous too, but we can do it. I know we can. I know you can.”

Emrys huffed a warm breath onto Arianwyn, a gesture of affection and conceding, before nudging her toward his side and the ropes that led to the saddle.

He did not like the saddle. That much was evident from the claw marks nearly covering the worn leather and how he would roll over on his back whenever the Dragonkeepers tried to put it on. It always took Arianwyn herself to talk him into letting them. But he was getting better about it. Slightly.

The saddle was not hers. It had been passed down in the family for generations, meant for young dragons who were still growing rapidly. Still, as Arianwyn settled into the ancient, worn leather, she could not help but think it fit her perfectly.

She dared one more glance at the crowd. The king was beaming. The queen looked as though she were about to faint. Ser Gerold and her Runestone guards looked to be somewhere between the two. Rhaenyra wasn’t even looking, though her husband and sons were.

Arianwyn looked last at her cousins. Helaena wore the same dreamy expression she always did, though her lips seemed to be moving slightly. Aegon was harder to read. She had expected him to look at her disdainfully or mockingly, but he didn’t. He looked happy, though it didn’t make much sense.

And Aemond. Her heart ached to look at him. She knew he was happy for her – more than happy, even. But being here today must also cause him such pain, driving home the fact that he still had not claimed a dragon. Guilt stung in her chest. She should have told him she wouldn’t mind if he stayed behind at the Keep.

But then, he smiled. There was still longing in his eyes for his own mount, but he smiled so brightly that Arianwyn soon smiled back, suddenly anxious to show him what she could do. She straightened her posture and grasped the reins.

“Emrys! Sōvēs!”

By the time Emrys again landed in the courtyard of the Dragonpit, he had entirely shed his dislike of his saddle. As he flew over King’s Landing, he had trilled and hooted his delight for all to hear. Arianwyn had as well, shouting and hollering with every move – rising on an air current, diving so low Emrys’ wings skimmed the surface of Blackwater Bay, and pitching around the towers and spires of the Red Keep.

Neither had ever felt so alive. But it was time to return to the ground.

Arianwyn was swarmed the moment she dismounted.

The king reached her first, clapped her on the back, and told her how proud her father would be if he were there. It was meant to be a comfort, but she flinched at the words. If he were there. But he was never there. She was nearly ten years old, but she had never met Prince Daemon, or even received a message from him.

Fortunately, the queen noticed her discomfort and subtly pushed past her husband to embrace her. “You were brilliant, Aria,” Alicent said. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Not bad at all.” Aegon, to her surprise, had also approached. He smiled at her. “Might even call it good.”

Arianwyn rolled her eyes. “How generous of you.”

He smirked. “I’m known to be sincere on rare occasions.”

She didn’t have a chance to snap back at him before she was lifted into the air and spun around. Ser Gerold held her close to his chest, and she swore she heard tears in his voice. “A dragon riding Royce! Who could have ever guessed? Oh, if only your mother could see this.”

“Would she be happy?” Arianwyn was suddenly gripped with fear that her mother would disapprove of her riding Emrys. Perhaps it was too far from Royce tradition for the late Lady of Runestone to tolerate.

Gerold lifted her so she could look directly into his dark gray eyes. “If your mother saw you now…” He really was crying now, but he smiled. “She would be so happy, Aria. She would be so thrilled that she might even ask to ride Emrys herself.”

Never able to resist his smile, Arianwyn smiled back. “Emrys isn’t quite large enough for two right now. But I would take her the moment he was.”

He finally set her down, his eyes flicking away for a moment. “I’m so proud of you, Aria. But I think there’s someone who also wants to say so.” With his hands on her shoulders, he turned her around.

Aemond was standing precisely where he was when Emrys had taken flight. He held his hands behind his back and looked away when Arianwyn met his gaze.

She had to push through more admirers – her guards, the Small Council, and other adults she couldn’t recall the names of. But they didn’t matter right now.

Yet when she stopped in front of Aemond, she didn’t know what to say. Talking about her flight might make him feel bad, but she so badly wanted to share her joy with him. Impulsively, she threw her arms over his shoulders and hugged him.

After a moment, he hugged her back.

“You’re amazing, Aria,” he whispered.

She sighed and rested her head on his shoulders. “You are, too.”

Aemond laughed almost disdainfully. Arianwyn held him tighter. “It’s true! One day, you will have a dragon, and I know you will be the fiercest rider our family has ever seen. Then, we can fly together, you and me.”

He let out a shaking breath but held her tighter, too. She could hear the faint smile in his voice. “You and me, Aria. Forever.”

“Forever.”

Taglist: @heartb8k2 @queenofshinigamis @leptitlu @xxxkat3xxx @malfoycassimalfoy @lokiofasgard12

[burning-academia-if]

I love your characters so much, they are all perfect blends of angsty and soft and attractive. 😭

How would the ROs feel about hearing an MC who is usually a sweet ball of tender sunshine get feisty with someone badmouthing the RO? Cuz sometimes our protectors need to be protected. 🥺

Not me coming back to asks because I gave up coding for the night-

Rook: He's...conflicted. He's seen flashes of this side of you before, but seeing you defend him? He doesn't deserve, and in his mind, they're probably right in some way. There's no reason to bare your teeth for him, especially when you're not normally like this. And yet. It's hard to deny the way his heart squeezes. When has anyone but you bothered to protect him?

Beck: He's uncharacteristically quiet. When you take his hand and the two of you leave the situation, you barely catch the 'thank you.' His head feels a little fuzzy. He's no stranger to the things people say about him, but it's been a long time since there was someone by his side to get him through it. He wants to protect you, especially if you're going to protect him.

Rhea: "You don't need to waste your energy on them." Rhea hasn't even glanced their way. She's used to it all. She's frigid, she's distant, she's a rich bitch who got in because of her dad's influence. There's no reason to acknowledge it. But when she sees how much it upsets you, she wraps her hands around your own and squeezes them. "Thank you for standing up for me, though."

Zoe: They feel nothing at the insults. They've known these their whole life, just like any magician who can't use magic. It's the same old script, but to you, it must all be so new. They wrap their arms around you, hugging you from behind. Their voice is a whisper, "It's alright MC. I'm ok." Their heart beat is even against your back, arms beckoning you to leave. They don't want you to waste their breath. Not on those who will never change.

Lars: Surprisingly, he'd let you. If someone tried to say shit like "Oh, you're letting yourself be protected now--" He'd level them with a threat to finally drive them off. When they're gone, he takes your face in his hands, and you half suspect a scolding. He isn't sure what he's feeling, and ultimately, he only sighs frustrated before dropping his hands and walking away. It's a waste of energy to protect him, but he liked it when you showed teeth. You're always surprising him.

???: You except something. The usual teasing or them stepping in with their own harsh words. Instead, they stare at you. But it's not really at you, it's through you. Their thoughts are far away, trapped in the past within the body of a lonely child. When you call their name, they snap back and shake their head with a laugh, "I didn't know you could sound like that, little moon." They reach for you, taking your hand, and pulling you into a run, away from whoever was bothering the both of you. And maybe to give themselves time to return to themselves.

[obsolescent]

The Necessity of Saints - Part Two

Part One

Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x SingleMom!Reader

Author's Notes: Um. I went in LMFAO. I literally had to cut myself off from writing anymore for this. I hope you enjoy!

Content Warnings: Explicit sexual content, P in V sex, multiple orgasms, protected sex, fingering, squirting, nipple play, cumming from nipple play, Simon is a gentle lover and always aiming to please, reader is touched-starved.

Word Count: 3,241

You let Simon know your availability, agreeing on a time–a date–something you haven’t been on in years. You’re filled with excitement, giddy at the prospect of dressing up and going out with someone, thinking of what all you two could do. Dinner, of course, maybe a movie? Oh! Maybe that carnival that’s in town for the week. You laugh to yourself, so many possibilities. So much anticipation bubbling, it has spilled over into your interactions with everyone around you.

“You’re chipper than usual, have anything going on?” A coworker asks. “Mama, you’re literally glowing, it’s so cute,” Your daughter says with a giggle, delighted to see you with a pep in your step this whole week. Friday night arrives, your excitement now mingling with nervousness. ‘Need something to wear, should I dress casually or should I be bold? Something slutty? Ugh, I don’t think I even have those types of clothes anymore.’ You don’t, you really don’t have much except for comfortable clothing now, some flowy dresses and skirts, and flats and sandals.

You pick out your fanciest dress. A long sleeved, empire cut, burnt orange dress with a sweetheart neckline. The length reaches mid calf, and you pair it with some comfortable, strappy flats. You fix your hair and makeup, looking sophisticated yet casual. ‘Probably the best for a first date.’ You and Simon spoke some more in regards to plans for that night, settling on a restaurant downtown to begin with. You agreed to meet there, not wanting him to know where you live just yet.

Your hands are sweaty as hell. You continue to wipe them off, pacing the living room while the time gets closer for you to leave. “O-M-G mama, relax! It’ll be fine. Just take some deep breaths and sit down,” Rhea says, having watched your anxious movements for the past ten minutes. “Ugh, I just…Don’t know what to do with myself,” You say, finding your way to sit next to her. She pats your shoulder, “Are you worried he won’t like the way you look? You look great, mama, I think he would think you’re pretty even if you showed up in a trash bag.” You guffaw, grinning at your daughter. She is a light in your life that you’re so glad to have, thankful for her reassuring words.

The clock reads 6:45 PM, fifteen minutes before your arranged time. “Reckon I better get going,” You let out a shaky breath, standing up and grabbing your purse. “Have a good time and have fun, love ya and be careful!” Rhea shouts from the couch as you’re opening the front door, “Love you, too!” You shout back, closing and locking the door. You get inside your car, backing out of the driveway and heading to the restaurant.

You arrive with five minutes to spare, giving yourself a pep talk. “If he doesn't like you, he can stick it! Go off on your own and treat yourself,” You say out loud, looking at your reflection in the visor’s mirror, making last minute adjustments to your look. You cut the engine and step out, locking the doors. Walking towards the entrance, you notice Simon standing off to the side, a bouquet in his hands, the other in his pocket. You’re internally screaming, face turning red at just seeing him with the flowers, in a black button up with matching slacks. 

He notices you approaching, giving you a smile, “Hello, love. Glad I didn’t scare you off,” He greets you, handing the bouquet over. A bushel of ranunculus, all varieties of color. “Thank you so much, these are beautiful,” You inhale their scent. “Could say the same about you, you look wonderful,” He says, his gaze following the contours of your body. You give a meek ‘thank you’ blush reaching the tips of your ears. “Shall we?” He asks, extending his arm for you to take. You nod, grabbing onto it, feeling him flex his muscles. ‘Good Lord he’s ripped.’ You both head inside, where the host seats you at a table in the corner, Simon taking the seat that faces out into the restaurant.

Light conversation begins, learning about one another. You find out that Simon is retired from the British military, which prompts you to ask why he’s here, of all places. “I like the liquor,” He says, causing you to laugh. Conversation carries on into dinner, your nerves far away from your thoughts, the wine Simon ordered helping to ease them. You’re honestly happy to have Simon’s company. He insists on paying for your meal, you opposing the whole time. ‘Let him treat you, he seems to really like doing it,’ The thought swimming through your mind. You bite your tongue, smiling and giving your thanks.

After the bill is paid, he escorts you out, once more offering his arm to you, which you gladly hang on to this time. You walk out into the crisp night air, feeling light and full of happiness. “Anything else you’re up for?” He asks, glancing down at you. You mention what you had been thinking about earlier, about the visiting carnival or a movie. He chuckles at your suggestions, “A movie sounds nice, yeah?” You nod, him leading you to his car. A sleek, black, Chevrolet Silverado is what he brings you to. Looking at it in astonishment, big and hefty. ‘Just like him.’ 

He helps you practically climb into the passenger side, settling in and buckling your seatbelt. He joins you on the other side, turning the ignition on and pausing, seeming almost nervous about what he’s going to say next. “If you’re comfortable with it, would you be opposed to watching a movie at my flat?” He asks, shifting in his seat, using your wording from your first proposition. “No, no at all opposed,” You respond, replying with his past sentence. He looks over with a grin, “Alright, love,” Is said before he pulls out of the parking spot, in the direction of his apartment.

He gives his thanks, sitting down beside you. He picks up the remote and turns on his television, scrolling through the selections. You had mentioned liking the horror genre earlier, him also in agreement. He seemed to be checking out the movies in that category, noticing one you had been meaning to watch, but hadn’t gotten around to it. You express your interest in that film, before he selects it.

The movie begins, you settling against the cushions to immerse. Simon shifts a bit closer to you, before putting his arm on the back of the couch, the warmth radiating from him. You give a slight shiver, haven’t been this close to someone other than your daughter in a long time. He notices, grabbing a throw blanket near the end of the couch before draping it across your form. You turn red, not having the guts to tell him the real reason why you shivered. 

As the movie progresses, you steal glances at his profile. Blond hair effortlessly tousled, stubble adding a rugged look to him, his pronounced nose slightly crooked, likely due to it being broken before. He’s quite the looker, with a great personality to match. He looks over at you, catching you staring. Your gazes lock, looking deeply into his honeyed eyes. He smiles, before clearing his throat. “Would you like some bourbon?” You weren’t expecting that, but agree, him rising from his seat and making his way to a liquor cabinet, pouring you both a glass.

He hands you yours, taking a cautious sip. It goes down smoothly, warming your throat. You hum, thanking him, while he settles back into place. Immersing yourself once more, you don’t realize how much you’ve drank until the glass is empty. You set it down on the coffee table, the warmth now spreading throughout your body. He sets his down besides yours, having finished his own. His arm brushes your own as he sits back. You contemplate on asking him to cuddle, worrying your bottom lip. ‘It’s just cuddling,’ you think, inhaling through your nose, taking a deep breath. “Could we, uh, cuddle?” You ask, grimacing at how unsure it sounds. He raises an eyebrow, “Is that what you really want, love?” Your body buzzes at the pet name, but you squish it down, nodding your head. He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close.

Your body ignites at the sensation, nerve endings buzzing at his grip. ‘Bless your heart’ you say to yourself. It never occurred to you that you would be touch starved after all this time, but it’s made itself known. His cologne, the fabric of his shirt rubbing against you, his breath fanning out over your hair, small touches that feel so immense. You then notice the brush of his thumb, slightly rubbing at your waist. Heat surges downwards, like you’ve been set on fire. 

You don’t realize you’ve made a noise until you feel Simon tense up against you. “Everything alright? Do you want me to stop touching you?” He asks, beginning to pull away. “No!” You squeak out, face aflame. “It just…Feels really good? Ugh, sorry, you’re not even…I haven’t been touched in a long, long time. I didn’t know it would affect me like this,” You try to laugh it off, beginning to fidget under his gaze. He nods in understanding. “I’ve been like that as well, nothin’ to be bashful about,'' He says, shifting to face you, his firm grip steadfast.

“Y-yeah, I’m just more…Sensitive? Than I thought, I hope it isn’t bothering you,” You respond. His hand slides up to cup your jaw, large hands engulfing the side of your face. Your breath catches in your throat, frozen in place. “Not botherin’ me at all, love,” he mutters, studying your face. This close to him, you notice more details. Faint scars scattered across his face, likely due to his field of work. Feeling emboldened, you bring a hand to his face, tracing one that reaches from under one of his eyes to the top of his upper lip. He tenses again, watching your movements. 

Reaching his lips, you let your thumb graze across them, a huff of breath leaving Simon’s mouth, warming your finger. “Somethin’ you want, is there?” He whispers, pulling you closer. Liquid courage coursing through you, you ask, “Never got to properly thank you for your help at the store. Could I…?” You trail off, hoping he picks up what you’re putting down. He does, but that open ended question isn’t the exact wording he’s looking for. “Could you what, love? You can ask for it, can’t you?” 

Needing words of consent, you take a deep breath. “May I kiss you?” He smirks. “There you are.” He allows you to close the distance. At first, you give a peck to his cheek, before pressing your lips against his. You tilt your head, deepening the kiss, clutching at his shirt. Simon threads his fingers through your hair, sighing against you. 

Oh God. You want him so badly, a profound yearning within your gut blooms throughout your body. Feeling desperate, your hands comb through his locks, a firm grip on them. He grunts, before tugging on yours, causing a rather loud moan to slip from your mouth. “P-Please, Simon. I want you,” You plead, breaking away to kiss along his jaw. He hums, “Good girl, using your words,” He pets your hair, his hand trailing from your hair down your back, fingertips light across your spine, sending a shiver through you.

His hand finds its destination, firmly grabbing your ass. You gasp out, arching against him. “Touch starved, are we?” He asks, chuckling. You whimper, grasping at his forearms, close to getting on your hands and knees to beg him to keep going, please please don’t stop. “Been needin’ someone to take care of you, yeah? Allow me, sweet girl.” You feel like igniting at his words, his sweet talk adding fuel to the ever growing heat inside your body.

His hands reach towards your upper back, locating the zipper on your dress. He hesitates, waiting for your approval which is given with a quick ‘yes yes yes’. Agonizingly slow, he pulls it down, before taking both hands and pulling at the sleeves to move the upper half away from your heated flesh.

Oh. You forgot you hadn’t worn a bra tonight, the dress having built in cups, you didn’t see the reason to, until now. Feeling bare under his burning gaze, you hunch over. “None of that now, love. S’just me,” He says, moving your arms away from your chest. Sitting upright again, you jut your chest out some, closing your eyes against his wandering stare, taking you in. “Gorgeous,” He whispers, fingers running along the slope of your left breast. 

Gasping, you stick your chest out more. You’re hoping he doesn’t need verbal approval, not trusting yourself to form cohesive thoughts at the moment. He continues, your reactions enough. His light touches are bordering on driving you feral, needing more. You squeeze his forearms, hoping he receives the message. He seems to understand, leaning down and taking a nipple into his mouth, his hand pinching the other. 

You cry out, sensation like lightning electrifying you. Your eyes roll back into your head, chanting, “Please please don’t stop, feel s’good, God, please keep going!” He obliges, sucking harder on your hardened nub while tugging on the other. You begin trembling. “W-wait, Simon, I think I’m–” A loud moan rushes out of you along with wetness, soaking your panties from suddenly squirting. A tug of your nipple between his teeth sent you careening over the edge into glory. Your orgasm spreads throughout your body, holding onto him for dear life.

Simon groans, pulling away. “Fucking hell. Cumming from me barely touching you.” He’s looking at you in wonder. He lays you back against the leather, pulling your dress off all the way. Left in just your soiled underwear, he soon pulls those down as well, moaning as he sees the mess you made. “Gonna be the death of me,” He mutters, pocketing the ruined panties. He quickly unbuttons his shirt, exposing his chest in all its grandeur. You bite your lip at the literal marble statue hovering over you, running your hands down his pecs and abs. 

You reach his slacks, tugging at his belt. He unbuckles said item, unzipping his pants and pulling them down. Now able to see his rather hefty cock straining against his underwear. You let out another whimper, legs automatically spreading open. “Goin’ to give you all you need, sweet girl. Being so good for me,” He says, running his hands up and down your legs, giving a reassuring squeeze to them. He kisses down your chest and stomach, touches soft and sweet. Reaching the apex of your thighs, his hands slot behind your knees, pushing your thighs against you, laid bare before him.

The passion in his eyes is so intense you have to look away, biting your lip. He tuts at you, “Want you to see this next part,” He says, directing your gaze back to him. He smiles, before suddenly a hot stripe of his tongue runs up, through your folds and to your clit. You toss your head back and yell, his chuckle vibrating against your pussy. Your legs are shaking even harder than before. Your words incoherent, you grasp at his hand, pulling him closer to your heat. ‘Good Lord, he’s a goddamn professional.’ Good to know your thoughts are still intact.

Your thoughts come to a standstill, Simon sliding a finger into your warmth. He swirls it around inside before adding another, crooking upwards while sucking on your clit. “Ah!” You’re thrown over that precipice again, legs clamping around his head. He pulls away, watching you shudder and convulse, wetness releasing from you once more. He grins, proud of his work. “Think you have one more in you, sweet girl,” He says, matter of factly, like he didn’t just remove your soul from your body twice in under ten minutes. 

He pushes your thighs further up this time, knees almost bracketing each side of your head. ‘Good God, this man is going to ruin me.’ You’re thankful your thoughts have returned for the moment, knowing your brain will be scattered again soon. He reaches down, pulling a condom from his wallet, slipping it on. “Ready for me?” He asks, lining himself up with your quivering hole, clenching around nothing for the moment. You nod. “Yes, yes, yes please,” you beg, shame be damned, needing Simon inside you now.

He slides in effortlessly, going achingly slow. The stretch is a lot, not surprising, though. It definitely matches in accordance with the rest of his body. He fully seats himself inside you, letting you adjust. “Please, move. Fuck me, Simon, need it so bad,” You’re able to form a coherent sentence, it rushing out of you near the end when Simon pulls out and glides back in. “Fuck, so tight, love. Feel so good, baby,” He moans out, picking up speed. Skin slapping against skin fills the quiet space, movie long over with. 

He’s hitting every single inch of you, rubbing just right. He leans over you, letting your legs drop. You take the opportunity to wrap them around his waist, pulling him flush against you. Simon brings you in for a searing kiss, rocking his hips into you, barely leaving you now. Your moans and panting are music to his ears, his own noises making you sing to the heavens. Reaching in between your bodies, he works your clit in unison with the grinding of his hips. “One more love, you can do it, there you go sweet girl, so good f’me,” He feels the rhythmic clenching around his cock and your squealing, reaching euphoria for the last time that night. He picks up the pace again, his thrusts soon stuttering as he reaches his own end, gasping and whimpering into your neck. 

He keeps himself propped up on his elbows while you both calm from the frenzied activity. As your breath evens out, he pecks your cheek, grinning. “Most proper thanks I’ve received,” He says, laughing at your widening eyes. “You–!” You swat at his chest, beginning to laugh yourself. He slides out, disposing of the condom before picking you up, carrying you to his bedroom. He sets you down on his silken black sheets, before laying next to you. You toss your leg over his before snuggling into his chest. He kisses the top of your head, feeling warm. You mumble a ‘Good night’ before drifting off, Simon not far behind you. Allowing himself to fall asleep cradling you in his arms. Feeling content and happy for the first time in a long while.

Tags: @dwkfan, spicy part two ♡

[syndrossi]

i wonder if Reverberate!Daemon considers how similar his allard-raised children were compared to his and Rhea’s boys raised by them from the beginning.

bc he feels guilt over them never having a proper childhood but then here’s Jon still waking up Rhaegar in the morning for an hour of sword lessons and an hour before bed.

there’s Rhaegar meticulously keeping tabs on dragons and Targaryen lore, reading well into the night and charming his way into doing it more often

like, does he finally consider, “huh, maybe they’re just built like that”

does he ever think “huh, maybe i owe allard an apolo— PFFFF HAAHAHAHAHA”

he continues to laugh for the next eight minutes.

Don't be silly, Jon's love of training is clearly a product of his excellent upbringing and superior work ethic, of course! Rhaegar's passion for reading and dragons is only to be expected for an exceptional Targaryen child, which clearly his sons both are. That's genetics, baby!

(Really, the big difference is that these boys do play, and laugh, and do silly things. They demand hugs and cuddles and always wake him if they can't sleep. And perhaps sometimes they do stare into the distance with a strange sorrow, but it passes soon enough.)

[horizon-verizon]

Not people jumping to blame DAEMON'S influence for Jace calling bastards "mongrels." When has Daemon EVER been bastardphobic? His attitudes towards Jace's parentage include some possible jealousy while he and Laena were both being good natured about it, seeming kind of proud of Rhaenyra when she admitted it, seeming pretty enthusiastic about wedding his daughters to "bastards", and literally killing a man for insulting Rhaenyra and her boys. I just simply don't get where this "Daemon is a blood supremacist" (more than any other noble is) comes from when he gives no fuck aside from jealousy about Rhaenyra "sullying" their Valyrian blood with Strong blood and putting her bastards on their precious dragons. Alicent is the most likely source of Jace's internalized insecurities (because that's what that was) so why do people keep pretending otherwise? Am I missing something?

I think that it's an opportunity to slam Targs, use the less-than-great reputation Daemon has amongst some fans--which includes his supposed "special" pride, and finally to incorporate Jacaerys into that to "prove" Targ-evil and unique amorality. That is pretty much all, aside from how Condal & co have written their version of a Jace to be less secure in himself and have less...I guess "family" as its truest phenomenon. Again, Daemon lived w/Rhaenyra her her co on Dragonstone for abt 1o or a little more with both Baela & Rhaena. Before that, it had been Harwin with occasional & then more frequent visits from Laenor. He more or less grew up away from the court Alicent presided even as he experienced some of the stigma of being even suspected as a bastard, esp from Alicent's supporters, here & there. But more so from his uncles: Aegon, Aemond, perhaps Daeron, too who'd follow his older brothers.

I also think it's bc Daemon has a lot of pride in his house that they are bound to think are white supremacists/colonizers and has disliked Rhea Royce from the beginning while being more amenable to Laena and Rhaenyra, who are both much more Valyrian-by-lineage than Rhea, who has none. Nobles are engrossed in making sure their marriages afford them the best possible access to resources and the prestige associated to whatever house so that they may have issue who can brings usch things into the "home" house or out to the house(s) chosen and favored. It's a way to organize wealth and power. Targs on Valyria and the rest of Valyria saw strength in their dragons, the pinnacle of such power matter of fact. So--as they too, maybe, didn't have that much knowledge about genetics work outside of the magic that in Planetos is more unpredictable than other magical systems--they decided that to preserve their power/dragon bonds, they must do as many other aristocracies did--marry closely and keep that line towards power amongst themselves. I said all of this before, but it bears repeating. Daemon & the Westerosi ruling Targs , however, has never gone out of their way to create a racist system except maybe Daeron I with Dorne if he had ever succeeded in conquering it (in which case, the Dornish are not nonwhite in GRRM's lore, so that racial system would not really mirror out own very well and be its own thing entirely).

Daemon has never even displayed true blood purity the way Alicent was closer to in 1x06 when she commented on how she called them "plain-featured" and groused abt how she couldn't understand how they could have hatched their dragons...while 3 of her kids had to wait till they were much older to bond with one. Daemon never called anyone anything that espoused he thought them as lesser in the exact degree or way that Lord Celtigar does in I think 2x06? 7? (I recently ___ epi 7 and watched w/ a few friends) when he protested against Alyn getting a dragon and even called it "theft". And we see in how he interacts with Alys how he was never actually blood purist with her...an actual unrelated bastard. Daemon just cares about whether you can be trusted to not supplant family, and the Targtowers are too mired in Seven/Faith influence to be "trustworthy".

It also stems from people not truly understanding what blood purity is & its elements or what it looks like when practiced and in the open, active. You hear people make the mistake of assuming the Targs are all blood purists bc they dislike how "keeping the blood pure" thru sibling marriage for dragonriding sounds to them like the Valyrians were ready for phrenology and eugenics and all that...If this were true, however, every single society (or at least most)--and that includes many non-white societies like the Egyptians, some Polynesians, East Asians, etc. as that particular kind of "blood purists". I list of these out bc you will find such "keeping blood pure" practices in nonwhite ancient societies as well. Often. Class=/= race, though it definitely laid the frames for race as we know it; racial systems have inherited ideas of racial difference from class assumptions of difference b/t aristocratic classes and the have-nots. To put it oversimply.

Still, they are not the same. Or we wouldn't have "white" people of real life AND Westeros also hate or abuse the other in their systems. If the Westerosi ruling Targs were that sort of "blood purists", they would have never allowed themselves to marry outside of their own family for fear of "dirtying" their "blood", or lineage. And they, more than the Starks, have had quite a diverse set of outer marriages through their entire dynasty.

I think Daemon just has a lot more expressed pride and arrogance that puts people off and leads them to make wrong, well-meaning conclusions. Oh, & of course HotD hasn't helped, with how they reduced his character at every turn possible.

[11queensupreme11]

imagine this scenario in baby Percy au:

Poseidon is still getting used to taking care of baby Percy, everything is still strange and new to him

for some reason he is baby percy they are invited to a get-together or a meeting of gods in the underworld, everything goes well until it is time to leave

Poseidon is still getting used to being a father, he literally spent billions of years without worrying about a life completely dependent on him so understandably he forgets that he was with baby Percy and leaves without her (in fact this is quite normal behavior among first-time parents)

he usually went straight home without even remembering that he was a father, he did his chores normally and only realized that he wasn't with his baby when feeding or bedtime arrived

For ONE minute everything would be completely silent for him and then the next moment would come TOTAL despair

Meanwhile baby Percy crawls across the floor without anyone noticing the gods are huge, why would someone six feet tall or taller walk around looking down? and she miraculously doesn't get stepped on by anyone

and then she meets the BEAST... the great CERBERUS

the percy alert is triggered and all the gods are running around like headless chickens looking for baby percy as if their lives depended on it and maybe they do, they get together and think about where was the last place baby percy was seen

and then they remember that it was in the underworld and the next moment several gods are running to the underworld as if they were running away from death from kratos, do you understand the reference?

they are turning everything over, there is not an untouched stone or room in the castle that hasn't been turned over, everything is in chaos until they noticed the strange behavior of the cerberus

Cerberus is lying face up, he doesn't move, he moves as little as possible despite the apparently uncomfortable position, his breathing is light and contained and shallow but despite this his tail is wagging

looking closer they realize why: baby percy is lying on top of Cerberus's chest, she is sleeping comfortably while holding a handful of fur in her little hand

the reason Cerberus is controlling her breathing is because he is trying to prevent the force of his breathing from throwing the baby out of his chest, he has been in an uncomfortable position for hours because he didn't want to risk knocking over or waking the little one but adorable recognition flea that clung to his fur while he took a brief nap

It's a lovely sight and many gods took photos to later pay a painter to paint the image on a painting, relief reigns in the place

except for Poseidon who received the BIGGEST SCORE from his mother and from his older brother, you can bet that during the whole scolding Adamas and Zeus were laughing and recording the whole situation with a state-of-the-art camera, Poseidon left his mother's house with several bumps on his head (like those bumps that appear on the heads of characters in anime after they get hit)

ADGFAGFVSDUFVY WHY DID I JUST IMAGINE POSEIDON AS THE MOM FROM HOME ALONE 😭😭😭😭

i love the thought poseidon just being perfectly calm, until it registers in his head that his baby is missing and he just blue-screens for a minute until:

but broooooooo poseidon would be IN SO MUCH FUCKING TROUBLE

he didn't just leave her in valhalla or midgard, he left her in fucking HELHEIM!!! that's the most dangerous of the three realms, his ass is LUCKY she didn't crawl out of hades palace!!!

granny rhea absolutely needs to banish him to the time-out island for that!!! 😤