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darkbluekies · 27 days ago

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Til death do us part

Yandere!mafia oc x reader

Summary: A summer romance turns dark as Silas can't accept that you've married someone else

Warnings: kidnapping, murder, blackmail, threats, Silas belittling darling, violence, isolation, jealousy, possessiveness

Word count: 5k

He’s everything you could have ever wanted. He’s sweet, caring and works at a bank. He can provide for you. He’s from a good family. Everything about him is perfect, everything you could ever have dreamt of. You could never have imagined that you would find a man like him after what happened last summer.

You had met a man on the way home from dinner with a friend, someone that had helped you after the grocery bag you had bought food in on the way home. He had introduced himself as ‘Silas’ and had walked you home, carrying the groceries for you. You had thanked him. Silas had asked if you wanted to meet for coffee sometime, and you had agreed, innocently thinking nothing of it. You had gone out with him multiple times. Never actually becoming a couple, but acting like it. It was harmless, you thought. You kissed, went on dates and you knew that if things continued like this, you’d fall for him.

But you noticed that something was weird about him, and it made you feel cautious in his presence. He never told you anything about his life and when you asked, you noticed that something shifted in his dark eyes. As if he tried to come up with a lie. It creeped you out somehow, because why couldn’t he tell you? Maybe you shouldn’t have trusted a man who tried to cover up his tattoos.

You finally got to know the truth at the end of the summer. A friend who had seen the two of you together had recognised him from a newspaper. He was a criminal, a leader of a mob, who was more dangerous than you could have anticipated. You had cut contact with him and moved away so that he wouldn’t be able to find you again.

But he did. Somehow, he did.

Letters have been piling up in your mailbox during these last few weeks, addressed to you and written in red ink. Your heart had stopped when you read the first one.

“Y/N, I’ve missed you. I’ve missed you so terribly much. My heart bleeds and aches for you. You left me because you were scared. I get that. I get that very well, this is a world you should be afraid of, but I will protect you. I will take care of you better than that man ever could. Yeah, I know that you’ve found someone new. I know that you’re planning to get married. Quite quick, don’t you think? You haven’t known him that long, and now you’re getting married? Silly Y/N, you’re so cute. Do you really think you love him? Are you trying to reassure yourself that I’m a part of your past that will never return? Or are you trying to make everyone around you believe that you’ve gotten over me and moved on? I know you still think of me. I know you want me. And I want you too. I have never wanted someone other than you. You and me are meant for each other. Don’t marry him. Come back to me. It’s you and me til the end.”

You hadn’t shown your fiance, but he had noticed that something had been wrong with you. You had become silent and distant. Letter after letter came to your mailbox and he realized that something serious had happened. You had no choice but to tell him about Silas and your past with him, the present he doesn’t want to let go of, and the future he demands. Your fiance had promised that he wouldn’t get to you, and that he was only trying to scare you.

You had been expecting to see Silas at your wedding, but he wasn’t there—or at least you didn’t catch a glimpse of him. Maybe your husband was right? Maybe he was just trying to scare you?

The start of the honeymoon is set to be on the SS Anastasia, a proud liner with three yellow funnels, a solid superstructure and a great reputation. It is set to take the two of you to Spain, where you have decided to have the rest of your honeymoon, away from all eyes and to be with no one but each other.

A steward welcomes you on board. You thank him and give him a smile. He lets you know that your luggage, which you left down at the terminal, will be delivered straight to your cabin, a suite in first class. Only the best for the newlywed couple.

“I’m so excited to see the room”, you admit as the two of you navigate the ship to find the mani staircase.

“The agent said that it would be nice”, your husband replies and chuckles. “Now, if we only could find it …”

You laugh. It takes you nearly ten minutes to find the right door among mazes of identical white doors. The suite is divided into three rooms: a bedroom, a sitting room and a bathroom, all decorated with expensive materials and fashionable colors. Polished dark wood and electric lights.

“This is so nice”, your husband smiles, letting his eyes wander around. “I think we’ll have a good time here.”

You hug him and he chuckles, hugging you back.

“I can’t believe I married you”, he says.

Me neither, you think.

Your mind drifts back to Silas and you feel your heart sink down to your stomach. You won’t be able to relax until you know that the ship has left harbour. There’s a constant, heavy feeling in your chest that you can’t explain. But you tell yourself that it’s just that; a feeling. Nothing more than old worries that haven’t been able to come up to the surface before now. You squeeze the man tighter, sighing out. You’re going to be okay. You’re going to be safe.

You have been promised a fantastic dinner, and the food delivers to your expectations. Everything is tasting like gold, served on a silverplatter. Sitting in the first class dining hall has given you an excuse to dress up. Everyone around is wearing their best clothes, and it is a silent competition in who looks the best. You look around, discreetly admiring everyone else’s attention to detail. You wonder how many of them have spent the entire day in their cabin, doing everything to look their absolutely best. The first night is usually relaxed, but a first time impression will always be remembered.

“What would you like to do after?” your husband asks and sips on his wine.

“I think I need to take a walk”, you joke.

“Oh, yes, the night sky must be so beautiful out on deck. I reckon that you’ll be able to see the stars much easier out here. No city pollution.”

You walk hand in hand down the promenade, looking up at the starry night sky, pointing at familiar shapes.

The next morning, after breakfast, the two of you walk to the lounge, deciding to take a calm day. Well deserved after planning a wedding and executing it. The lounge is cozy, reminding you of a simple living room rather than a first class room on an oceanliner. Maybe to make the passengers feel more at home.

Your husband takes the opportunity to indulge in a newspaper, finally having the time to sit down and actually read it.

You let your eyes wander around the large lounge, enjoying to admire the small details that give the room it’s cozy feel. But the feeling is quickly switched once your eyes land on someone. A man sitting in an armchair on the other side of the lounge, dark eyes feasted onto you, a small smirk playing at his lips when he notices you noticing him. You can feel your body go numb, feel yourself sink through your armchair, through the floor and through the ship’s metal. Feel yourself sink down to the bottom of the pitch black ocean. You forget how to breathe, head going blank.

He found you.

You glance towards your husband who’s still invested in today’s news. Silas raises his eyebrows testingly as you look back at him, as if to say “yes, I’ve noticed him, you think he compares to me?”.

Suddenly the air in the lounge seem to lose all oxygen. You need air, or else you will faint.

“I-I have to get some fresh air”, you hear yourself mumble.

“Are you okay?” your husband asks and looks up from his newspaper, eyes full of worry.

“Yes—”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“N-No, I’ll be fine, I’ll be back soon.”

You need to get away.

You hurry out of the lounge and out onto the enclosed promenade. The fresh air hits your face harshly. You grab onto the wall to support yourself while trying to find a way to breathe that doesn’t feel like needles poking through your throat.

“You thought I wouldn’t find you?”

You feel your heart stop. Quickly, you spin around, seeing his face way too close to yours. He tilts it, almost mockingly. You back away, stumbling over your feet and hitting your shoulder against the wall. Silas corners you, stopping you from escaping.

“What do you want?” you breathe out shakingly.

“Didn’t you get my letters?” he asks. “Or did you simply not read them?”

“Leave me alone. I-I’m married now.”

He smirks, tilting his head back and putting his hands into the back pockets of his suit pants.

“Indeed, you are”, he says and sighs out. “But do you really think that’s real?”

“What do you mean?” you almost stutter.

Silas meets your eyes. He’s smiling.

“Don’t you think I could have taken you whenever I wanted?” he asks. “The only reason you were able to marry that boring son of a bitch is because I let you. But, in the end, you belong to me. Isn’t that right?”

You don’t answer. You turn your head away, look out over the endless sea, and feel your eyes fill with tears. He wipes your tears with his thumb and you push his hand away.

“I don’t”, you say, wondering where you have gotten the sudden bravery from. “I don’t belong to you. I belong to him.”

You show him the ring on your finger. Silas clenches his jaw and grabs a hold of that hand, forcing it closer. He pulls of the golden ring, scoffs at it and throws it overboard. You gasp and try to run forward, hoping to catch it before it falls too far, but he pushes you back against the wall.

“Don’t ever say that again”, he warns you. “You don’t belong to him, how could you? I met you first. I claimed you first. He will have my seconds. Everything you do to him, you’ve done to me first. And he will never do anything as good as I did.”

“I left you because of this!” you hiss, reminding him.

“No, you left me because you were scared. You don’t understand that you are in more danger if you aren’t with me. I’m the only one that can protect you. I didn’t want you to know about it because I know you’d be scared, but—”, he cups your cheeks, forcing you to look at him, “—but I won’t hurt you. You’re so special to me. I love you so much. You did read my letters, I can see it in your eyes. You know how much I love you.”

“Let me go”, you plead.

“No. It’s you and I til the end, don’t you remember? I’m not letting you go again. I’ve been letting you have your fun for too long now. It’s about time I take you back. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Don’t hurt him either.”

You can see his eyes darken, his jaw clench. “You decide if it’s going to be violent or not.”

You freeze in his hold.

“You can choose to come back to me, quietly and easy”, Silas starts and caresses your cheek. “We will be happy and your boy will be left alone.” He traces your jaw with his finger. “Or … you reject me and I take out my competition and take you with me once we reach Spain. No one will see you again.”

He seems to tell that you’ve stopped breathing, because he sits you down on one of the sun chairs and massage your throat. Your eyes are stuck onto nothing, empty.

“I will give you until nine”, he whispers in your ear. “If you’re not outside my cabin at nine, A-30, knocking on my door, I will kill him.”

“You’re a liar”, you breathe out, voice barely audible. “You’ll kill him either way …”

Silas shrugs simply. “Maybe, but don’t you want to take your chances? You might save him.”

Silas stands up. You sit frozen.

“Oh, and Y/N?” he says as if remembering something and looks down at you. “If I were you I wouldn’t tell anyone. You know, for obvious reasons.”

He gives you a small, teasing smile before walking back inside. You sit still, not daring to move. Worried that if you move you’ll break down and realise what’s going on. You can feel your heart pound in your ears. No. No, this can’t be happening.

“What are you doing out here?” you hear a familiar voice ask. “You’re going to get sick!”

You feel your husband hang his blazer over your shoulders. The warmth, the familiar scent from him makes your heart hang heavy in your chest. You can’t help but feel like you’ve betrayed him, as if you’ve cheated your relationship, thanks to Silas’s threat. But if you cheat on it, you might save the love of your life. Can you cancel out a bad thing with a bad thing? Is it really a bad thing then? Can you be excused?

You can’t tell him about it, but if you did, would he understand you?

“You don’t look well, actually”, he says and helps you stand. “You’ve probably already gotten sick. You should go lay down and rest.”

He helps you, slow and steady, to your suite. You lay down in bed and he tucks you in.

“Should we ring for a steward?” he asks worriedly. “Ask for some tea and some medicine?”

“No, I’m fine”, you reassure him dimly. “I just need to be alone.”

“I’m worried about you. Something happened to you. I can help you.”

No, you can’t.

“Do you want to be left alone?” he asks.

What if he gets killed?

“No, stay in here”, you wish.

He nods. You hold his hand as you lay with your eyes closed, trying to think of what to do. He was clear; whatever you do, you’ll end up with Silas. The only thing you can choose—maybe—is to save the man holding your hand and whispering reassurance to you. The nicest you can do, in this situation, is to give in and beg Silas to leave him alone. You can’t be prideful and let him kill him.

You find yourself outside cabin A-30 with your head spinning. You don’t want to do this, but what choice do you have? Your first is heavy when you lift it to knock, the sound of your knuckles hitting the polished wood seeming to echo throughout the entire ship. You can hear his footsteps on the other side and see him tower over you when he opens the door. His smirk sends a wave of nausea over you.

“So, you came in the end”, he says cockily. “Good girl/boy.”

You lower your eyes to the floor. Silas steps aside and gestures for you to walk in. You do, on heavy, unresponsive legs. He closes the door behind you, locking it. You gulp. He lingers around you like a snake and you wait for him to put his fangs into your neck and shoot his venom into you.

“You should rest”, Silas says softly and wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. “Let’s go to sleep.”

He leads you to the bed and lays you down, lying down behind you. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t do anything that could scare you. You try to keep it in, but your body fails you. Sobs, quiet at first, leave your body. Tears run down your face. You hold your hand over your mouth, but Silas is close enough to hear you. He hugs you carefully and you can feel him rest his face into your shoulder.

“There’s no need to worry”, he whispers. “You're back where you belong.”

It only makes you worry more.

“Your crying makes me so sad”, Silas whispers. “Everything will be okay, little thing. You're back now.”

You don't fall asleep that night, and you're sure Silas doesn't either. His grip on you remains tight and controlling, showing no sign of drowsiness.

The sun rises outside the porthole, and you're as wide awake as ever. Silas gets out of bed and starts to dress for the day. You remain in bed, feeling too empty to move. Your eyes fall onto the tattoos on his back and arms, wondering where he got them and what they represented. But something in you tells you that you don’t want to know.

“My darling”, Silas sighs and crouches down in front of the bed, caressing your face. “You don’t need to look so sad. You and me will have fun. We can do more than you ever could with that boy of yours could. My credit card never declines.”

“What are you talking about?” you ask, frowning.

“Oh? You didn't know?” His cocky face is getting on your nerves. “My men did some digging into him, and it seems like he spent a fortune on this honeymoon of yours. Barely anything left in his bank account. Poor thing was really trying to impress you, but the illusion would be all gone once you came back home. I, on the other hand, have all the money in the world.”

“Your money’s dirty.”

“Money’s money. I could launder it, and it’d be clean, but you wouldn’t accept it anyway. Which is why you’ll never get money from me. You’ll get jewelry, food, clothes—anything you want—and all you need to do in return is submit yourself to me.”

You sigh and look away.

“We don’t have to talk about this now”, Silas says and stands up. “But you will submit to me, I know you will. Get dressed now, my love, we’re going to eat breakfast.”

Food is the last thing you want right now.

“I’m not hungry”, you say.

“Do you want to stay in?” he asks. “I can go get you breakfast that you can eat later.”

You nod, whatever will make him leave you alone for a while. Silas gives you a comforting smile and pets your head before leaving the cabin. You take the time to cry, when you know that he can’t see you, planning to stop before he returns, but failing.

“Crying when you think I won’t notice?” he asks and scoffs, just a little bit amused. “Do you think I wouldn’t notice?”

He sets down a tray on the table in the room and walks over to the bed, crouching down and wiping your tears.

“You’re mine”, he says. “Crying about that boy won’t change that fact.”

You don’t answer.

“Will I have to stay in here the entire time?” you ask coldly.

“No”, he says. “Not all the time, but if you want to leave the cabin, you will be by my side. If I were you, I wouldn't try to run away from me or try to tell anyone, because the ship is filled with my men. You don’t know who they are, and they won’t bother you if you behave, but the second I tell them to keep an eye out for you, they will.”

You glare at him.

“But you wouldn’t do that, would you?” Silas asks.

“And then what?” you counter. “When we're in Spain?”

“Oh, we're not staying there. I'm not allowed there. My second in command is waiting for us there and will take us back to America as soon as we arrive.”

Oh …

“I don’t want to go back. Not with you.”

“Well, life's not fair, little thing. You should eat now. I got you all the things you told me that you liked.”

He takes you to the table in the cabin and starts to feed you the bread, the coffee and fruit. You eat, just you comply, too tired to fight with him. Fighting with a wall would be easier. A wall wouldn't talk back. A wall wouldn't threaten you.

“See how much easier it is when you obey?” Silas says.

You give him a quick gaze. He traces your cheek with his fingers.

“I look so much forward to having you all to myself”, he mumbled.

His words send icy shivers down your back.

You stay in the cabin the coming day. You wonder what your real husband is thinking of your disappearance. Sure that Silas has already done something to make him stay away … or worse.

“You're so down, baby”, Silas says. “How about we do something, hm? We have a whole ship to our amusement. There is a game room, a pool, a library, and a squash court. How about that? Why don't we play some squash?”

You nod, just to get out of the cabin. Maybe you can figure something out. Maybe you can hide.

“That's my boy/girl”, Silas says and takes your hand. “Let's go.”

Walking out with him, hand in hand, made you feel horrible. He looked so proud, so cocky.

He took you down to the squash court. He picked up a racquet and bounced a few balls.

“I hope you know the rules”, Silas said with a chuckle. “Or else I will win.”

A man came into the squash court. Silas gave the man a quick, stern look before glancing towards you, and then back at him. This is one of his men, you figure.

“Give me a second, darling”, he says and takes the man aside.

They turn their backs to you, whispering. You glance towards the door. As they mumble about something incoherent, you sneak towards the door, opening it silently and sneaking out. You run, but only get a few meters before a hand rips you back.

“Where do you think you're going?” Silas hisses in your ear.

He slams a hand over your mouth to prevent you from making any sounds and almost you back to the squash court.

“I apologize”, he mutters to his man. “Seems like my baby here can't behave.”

He holds your back firmly against his chest, hand resting securely over your mouth. “They'll learn soon enough, once they learn the consequences.”

You fight against him, but he doesn't budge.

“Stop fighting”, Silas hisses and turns to his man. “I'm sure it won't happen again, ill make sure it won't, but can you tell the others to keep an eye out for this disobedient little shit? If you ever see them wander around alone, you get me immediately. Leave us now, I need to lecture them.”

The man nods, bows slightly and leaves the squash court. Silas lets you go and you back away from him, but he's quick to corner you.

“You don't get it, do you?” he asks, and sounds a tad bit amused. “You can't escape me. And, come on, trying to do that on a ship? I really thought you were smarter than that. Where would you go? The only place you could flee would be to jump overboard. But you're stupid, not suicidal. And now, all my men keep an eye out. Just accept that your place is here, with me.”

“I want my fucking husband!” you scream. “You aren't my husband, you're a low life criminal!”

Silas’s eyes darken.

“Okay then”, he says, slowly. “If you want him so badly, go look for him. Go find him. If you do, I'll let you go with him. If not, you're mine.”

“Your men will take me back to you.”

“I'll tell them to leave you as long as you don't talk to anyone. Search everywhere. Go to the lower classes, for all I care.”

“What have you done to him?”

He smiles slightly, but it's not one out of genuine happiness, but of mockery. “Do you really want to know?”

You turn around and leave. He follows you. You barely have time to walk down the corridor before a man takes a hold of your arm. A different man from before.

“You're not supposed to walk around”, he says.

“It's okay”, Silas says a few steps behind you.

He wears his chin high, a smirk on his face and his hands in his front pockets. You rip your arm from the strange man's hold.

“My baby is using their brain”, Silas says and reaches the two of you. “We'll see where that gets them. Keep an eye so that they don't talk to anyone. We don't want to encourage talking to strangers, now do we, little thing?”

You glare at him.

“Go, then”, Silas says. “What are you waiting for?”

You don't like how he's changed. Just five minutes earlier he was set on making sure you wouldn't wander … and now he encourages it. Something has happened to your husband and you want to find him as quickly as possible.

You walk away, leaving Silas and his man in the corridor outside the squash court. You're not sure where to start. As soon as you get out of their sight, you stop and sink down alongside the wall. Needing to just catch your breath.

But you don't linger too long. Before you change your mind, you stand up and start to walk. You end up walking back and forth for hours, sure that every eye that lands on you is a member of Silas’s organization, someone being paid to make sure you obey.

You search every little corner on the ship, but your husband is nowhere to be seen. Your suite is empty, but there are signs of struggle. A glass lying on the floor, more than one person's shoe marks on the carpet. You walk over to his suitcase and take out one of his shirts. Crying as you hold it.

“Any luck?” you suddenly hear him say.

Your blurry eyes dart to the open door, seeing him lean against the frame with his arms crossed over his chest. He looks so nonchalant, so careless. How can he?

“There are words for people like you”, you sniffle with a voice draped in hate. “Did you know that?”

“What word?”

“Inhuman.”

Silas scoffs out a small smile. “If only you were as smart with thinking as you were with words, you’d have figured it out by now.”

“What?”

“You haven’t found him anywhere on the ship, and you’ve been looking for hours.”

He doesn’t have to remind you. Your aching feet is enough to make you feel your loss.

“What did you do to him?” you ask weakly.

“I have already told you, if you listened to me, you’d figured it out earlier. I said that there is only one way to escape me.”

Your eyes widen as you dart your eyes to the round porthole.

“Atta girl/boy”, Silas says, voice smooth as honey as he walks over to you.

“Y-You … y-you …”

“Don’t look at me. I didn’t do it.”

“You ordered it.”

“Are we back to the ‘dirty money’ thing again? Does it matter if I gave the instructions or not? It happened, and even if I said I gave the instructions, you wouldn’t take it.”

You hang your head heavy in your hands, crying. Silas hugs you and you try to fight back, but he doesn’t let you go. He holds you tightly, his rough hands keeping you against his body.

“Now that he’s gone, you have no other choice than to accept me whole heartedly”, he whispers in your ear. “You have no one else. Only me. Until the end of time, til death do us part.”

You sob in his hold, wanting nothing more than to escape. You manage to glance towards the porthole.

Silas holds your hand in a tight, painful grip as you walk off the ship, surrounded by a few of his men. People on the dock cheer and welcome their loved ones, but you’re pulled right through the crowd. You can’t hear any of them, your own sorrow drowning out all sounds of happiness. Silas takes you over to a car. A black haired man leans against it, but stands straight when he sees Silas. His second in command.

“Boss, there you are”, he says with a small smile. “Did you have a good voyage?”

Silas lifts your tightly intertwined hands with a smirk on his face. “What do you think?”

The second in command looks at you up and down and smirks. “Congratulations.”

“I wish we could stay here but if the cops get me I’ll be in trouble”, Silas says and pulls you close. “Let’s go to the yacht before we’re noticed.”

He helps you into the automobile and you’re off, on the way to the ship that will take you back to America. Tears run down your face silently. You shut them, trying to imagine yourself in another place, somewhere far away from Silas and his evil entourage. Somewhere where you had never crossed paths with him. Somewhere where things had turned out different. A bump in the road forces your eyes open again and you’re pulled back into the car that will take you straight to your own personalized hell, with a man who is ready to kill for you. You wish you had never allowed him to carry your groceries.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere oc x you #yandere mafia #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc

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beansprouts · 1 year ago

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My WIP is a fantasy erotica whose main character is a cleric of the goddess of orgasm, so, uh........... pretty screwed indeed

you are personally and directly hit by a bus¹ and isekai-ed, via resurrection, into the body of the main character your most recent WIP

reblog and tell me: on a scale of 1–10, how screwed are you right now?

¹ this is, transparently, a plot device, so if you are about to tell me "joke's on you, I never leave my fifteenth floor apartment!" then you may rest assured it will have tremendous comedic value when the bus is launched into the sky and crashes through your apartment wall to flatten you anyway

#queendom south #oc aster #I hit a temporary roadblock because I'm still kind of hesitant writing sex scenes especially between women #but boy does that story demand to be written more than any I've dreamed up before

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theereina · 5 months ago

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Big Mama Pt. 1

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Plus Size Fem Black!OC

Wordcount: 1,462

Warnings: MDNI (18+) mature content, such as cursing, teasing, no smut (alluding to sexual situations), heavily dialogue-centered, use of Daddy, Mama, and other pet names (lil' mama, pretty girl, etc.)

A/N: I literally haven't written in years. I'm open to critiques. I am a little 🤏🏽 sensitive about my writing. Please, don't be too harsh.🥺 Feel free to bring my attention to any typos. Divider by @firefly-graphics. Also, this work is not to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than here on Tumblr). I do NOT give consent for any form of republishing or rewriting.

PART 2 => 🦋

"You look like you bite," I said looking at him directly in his eyes. They were a greenish-hazel color that resembled fallen leaves. Nothing about this man's appearance was hard on the eyes. His face, his eyes, his lips, his body, and even his smile were driving me silently insane. His presence was intimidating yet inviting. An aura surrounded this man that demanded attention and took up space.

He stared back at me with a challenge brewing in his eyes. "I do, but only if you want me to. I promise," he said not even hiding his smirk. All I could do was stare at this smug bastard. I knew that he knew the effect he was having on me. If he couldn't see it on my face, the heat from my body was evidence enough. I was getting hotter by the second.

"Mhmm," I said while turning away. I honestly just wanted to see what he would do. I couldn't let this man see me fold this quickly. I wasn't retreating; it's just that I needed a moment to promptly gather myself. I was fucking losing it. We hadn't even spoken three sentences, and I was already struggling to think. I was normally a quick-witted smartass with a lot to say. Everything about this man was short-circuiting my brain, and I didn't like one bit of it.

"Where you going? C'mere, lil' mama," he teased. The way that man's voice had me in a chokehold. It was thick, heavy, and warm like raw honey. All I could do was smile. I paused and turned back to face him. "Why would I come to you when I'm the meal? If you want it, come get it," I said motioning for him to come here. Now, why the fuck did I do that?

"Meal? I'd prefer it if you were dessert. Daddy's got a sweet tooth," he said striding towards me. He was closing in on the space that I was using for comfort. I felt like I was melting in the spot I stood in. I had to think about my next move. I had to do something. I took a breath and relaxed as much as I could before speaking. The last thing I wanted to do was show this man that I was a nervous fucking wreck. "Well, I guess it's a good thing Mama's a baker," I said while winking up at him. At this point, there was no space between us. We were chest to chest, and I could feel every rise and fall between us.

There was no turning back now. The smile that this man wore from what I said had me blushing. I couldn't cover it up even if I tried. Clearly, I had lost this battle, but I would try my fucking hardest to win the war.

We were way past the point of this being friendly or casual banter. The sexual tension was heavy between us, and I had some shit to prove. He reached up and gently caressed my chin. Breaking me from my trance as he spoke, "Focus, mama. Where your head at, pretty girl?" His smile was now even more intense and sinister. It was as if he was feeding off of my nervousness. Was he getting off on watching me react like this? A devil, I tell you.

At this point, all I could say to myself was "fight back, bitch".

"Just thinking," I said looking up at him. I was struggling to keep my composure. I bit my lip to hide the anxious smile I was fighting. He said nothing as his eyes dropped to watch my movements. His eyes flowed from my lip to my body and back up to my eyes again.

Antsy and nervous, I began to rock on my heels shyly. My facade was beginning to break, and I was crumbling by the second. "Uh oh. Is all that big girl energy fading away?" he asked slowly using his thumb to stroke my cheek. "Big girl energy? I'm a grown woman." I snapped back. I instantly dropped my eyes in regret. "Oouu, there she goes," he said raising one of his eyebrows. This man was taking me for a joke, and my dumbass was letting him.

I raised my head to meet his eyes again. "You don't take shit I say seriously. Do you,... Um... Wait, I never got your name," I stated while watching him and waiting for a response. "Yes, you did. I told you what it was. You don't remember? Huh, pretty girl?" he questioned gathering my hand in his. He held my hand while I struggled to remember if this man ever said his name. I couldn't recall him ever saying a name at all. I, for sure, would have remembered replying with mine if he did. Was I that dumbstruck by this man? Did he have me forgetting portions of this conversation?

Then, it hit me. He said a name, but there was no way in hell that he wanted me to call him that. Right? Did he really want me to call him "DADDY"? I couldn't call a man that, especially a man that I just met. This had to be a joke. I was pulled from my thoughts by feeling his hand cupping my chin. He raised my face upwards to meet his gaze. Those striking eyes were piercing down into mine, and I could almost swear his eyes had darkened to bronze.

The growing intensity of his gaze and the faint grip he held on my chin indicated that he was awaiting an answer. "Something tells me you know exactly what my name is. You just don't want to say it. It's okay. I'll get it out of you one way or another, lil' mama," he said laughing. "And how are you going to do that?" I asked raising my hands to play with the lower hem of his plain t-shirt. "Don't worry. It doesn't matter if I got chu yellin' it, screamin' it, whisperin' it, crying' it. As long as I got chu sayin' it, I did my job," he said leaning in closer.

I could feel the warmth of every breath he took on my neck. The heat from that alone was like a smoke signal. I refused to fall prey to my own desperation, but my brain and pussy were now working against each other. I desired to feel every part of this man in EVERY capacity. I needed a closer connection, so I used the hem of his shirt to softly pull him in closer. I wouldn't dare fold that fucking easily. Not like this.

*FIGHT BACK!*

The wheels were now turning in my head, and my brain was in overdrive. I had to finish what I started. He was right about one thing. I WAS A "BIG GIRL". A woman whose thighs destroyed jeans on the regular and who could talk a lot of shit but wasn't going to take much of it. I had to get him while he was close enough to feel it.

"And what job might that be? Huh,....Daddy?" I asked while trailing my hand up his chest to rest on his shoulder. "Mmmm..." he said taking a deep breath. GOT HIM! He removed his hand that was resting on my chin and rubbed the back of his neck. "What? Did I say something wrong?" I asked sheepishly. I was proudly smirking at this point. "Nah. You said everything right," he said smiling back at me.

I decided to take it up a notch. What was the harm in having a little fun? We were only talking after all. I couldn't believe I was feeding into this, but fuck it. "So, does that make me a good girl?" I asked stroking my hand along the back of his neck awaiting an answer.

I could feel the shift in his energy. Desire overtook his eyes. His playfulness had turned primal. "Are you?" he asked tilting his head while watching me. "What's the fun in tellin' you when I could just show you?" I replied as I stilled my hand to rest on his neck. He caught my hand and brought it to rest at his lips. He placed small kisses on the back of my hand. His eyes never left mine. "I guess that settles it, lil' mama. You busy tonight? I think I might have something fun for us to do," he asked smugly.

I knew exactly what this man meant, and I was going to enjoy every minute of it. I just hope he can keep up because...

"Big Mama don't fold, and Big Mama don't quit. If you stay awhile, she'll show you some shit."

Taglist: @avoidthings @brattyfics @5headsupremacist @creartivefairy

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mauvecherie-writes · 3 months ago

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be mine this christmas: l.hamilton.

pairing: lewis hamilton x back oc!xenia richards

trope: grumpy billionaire x personal assistant au

ru’s 💌 : Please keep in mind that the Lewis in this story is not the IRL Lewis or the Lewis I typically write about. He’s a bit more of an asshole, he’s a bit more controlling. You’ll love him the same. This story is fast paced because it takes place in just about one night.

chapter: ONE

chapter warning: n/a

chapter w.c: 3.44K

𝐎𝐍𝐄:𝐗𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐀

Lewis Hamilton was an arsehole.

No, arsehole was not strong enough of a word to describe the depths of her hatred. She utterly loathed the man and there were not enough words in the a thesaurus that could describe the thoughts that plagued her mind. The thought of him on fire and she still wouldn’t throw water on him to save him. In fact, Xenia would throw the continuous stack of files that sat on her desk into the fire to stock the flames.

There was so much more that she could say but there was not enough space within her mind to keep thinking about that man.

Ugh, that man.

Xenia rolled her eyes at the phrase. Lewis Hamilton was the definition of being ‘the man’. To the modern man, he was the quintessential ‘alpha’ as they called them these days. A term that equally irked her.

An egotistical twat is what she felt was better suited for the type of man that Lewis Hamilton actually was. The type of man that made an obscene amount of money just by breathing and made it known that he had no qualms flaunting it. ’Who the fuck has a designer customised pen?!’

He was the type of man who walked with his head held high, shoulders square - demanding the attention through the sea of desks to the elevator that was constructed for his private use. The peasants were to use the smaller elevator further down the corridor.

Lewis Hamilton was considered a god to the board as his legacy in motorsport alone brought the investors, begging to give the company their money. Every man wanted to be him, willing to accept being his doormat if he allowed it. Every woman wanted to be in his bed if he spared them a glance. Equally pathetic.

Xenia wanted him to disappear. Then she would know peace.

She never understood how people could see the sun that seemed to be shining out of his arsehole. He had no redeeming qualities that she could think of and she’d been his personal assistant for three years.

He was a dominating whirlwind of force that blew everything that stood in his way and he would never look back to witness the havoc that he wreaked.

Xenia was not blind - she knew that he was an attractive man. It was in her face every day, confronted by it and that drove her hatred even deeper. He had her occupying the building that held her captive for sixty hours a week.

Yes, SIXTY!

In heels on top of it! Something about looking professional at all times that was written within the office’s code of conduct. Why she could not answer the emails at home (she was already doing that anyway) as she ran around the city of London doing errands off the clock was beyond her.

There were a lot of things that Hamilton did that would qualify enough as a form of harassment for a lawsuit.

But she was still here. Why?

Well, for one, her salary was amazing and helped her afford her obsession with fashion. It also helped that the VP of Sales, Rebecca Bailey was a sweetheart who loved asking her fashion tips. Xenia had cultivated a special relationship over the years with the older woman. They got along so well most likely due to the fact that she was one of the very few women in the building who did not want to cut off Xenia’s head because of her proximity to the boss.

Another reason why Xenia loved Rebecca was because of her encouragement for her to delve deeper into her fashion interest. Which was something Xenia was craving to do. She had gone so far as to create a website that she had intended to be her homage to fashion. Granted the only thing on the homepage was a white screen with the words ‘under construction’ flashing on the page. But it was a starting point.

“What are you so focused on?” The resident gossip, Lola Braun, stood at the edge of Xenia’s desk as she eyed the article that she had been working on. Xenia quickly shut her laptop screen down before Lola could read any further. She scrunched up her recently sculpted nose up when Xenia quietly pulled her screen close.

“It’s none of your business what I’m focused on actually.” Xenia replied . If she had to be honest with herself, she was not the biggest fan of Lola, matter of fact, she hated Lola at about the same level that she hated Lewis. Lola was the personal assistant of Rebecca which angered her even more due to how close they were forced to work with each other.

Lola loved herself in a way that was deplorable. Her high arched and pulled back eyebrows , hazel green eyes and a body every model aspired to have. With hair and flawless toffee-toned skin, magazines would say that you can get from rosemary water and witch hazel. However, because of this perceived perfection, Lola had made it her mission to force everyone around her to be miserable. She despised any food that contained more than 300 calories around her. God forbid, Xenia ate a lemon and poppyseed muffin with her caramel latte.

Everyone (mostly the women) wanted to look like Lola and they all seemed to hate the way Xenia looked. She was 5’9”, body full of curves, kinky coils that defied gravity with skin tone deep and rich as the juices of blackberries. Xenia loved the way that she looked. Lola could shove a chocolate chip cookie down her throat if she didn’t.

Xenia also hated the fact that she was a blubber mouth. You only ever told her anything when you wanted the entire office building to know. Xenia learned that little tidbit the hard way when she confided in her that she thought that the boss was a dick during her first month of employment. It was a very awkward staff general meeting when Lewis reprimanded ‘staff’ for inappropriate comments about higher administration.

Yes, Xenia hated Lola a great deal.

Lola cleared her throat, as if to remind her of her presence. Like Xenia could forget that she was standing there, not when her pungent fragrance was itching her nose.

“What do you want, Lola?”Xenia asked. She then dropped a stack of files onto her desk.

“Well, from the looks of it, it seems that you don’t have much work to do so here are the sales quarter files that Mr Hamilton asked for. Should keep you occupied until late. I can bet that you don’t even have an outfit for the Christmas party tonight.”

Xenia finally glared up at her. Meeting the woman’s snarky expression through her lashes.

“You’re right.” Xenia offered her a fake smile. “How about I start on these whilst you go and get those nails filled in. They look overdue.” Lola gasped as she pulled her emerald green manicured nails towards her chest before she moved to inspect them. Before Xenia could bask in the afterglow of Lola's stunned silence, a large and tasted hand dropped a note onto the stack of files in front of Xenia.

“Okay, this sparring round is over ladies.” Her eyes rolled before they landed on Miles. Miles Chamley-Watson was the Chief Marketing Officer of Hamilton Enterprises and also Lewis’s best friend. Only four years younger than the boss, Miles still knew him the longest and was there at the inception of the company - playing a massive role in its growth with his sharp eye on marketing the brand to a more generation.

Miles was also someone Xenia considered a friend and an ally. Their first meeting happened when he had walked in as she was getting a verbal lashing from the boss man. All she had done was pour oat milk into his coffee instead of almond. As the tears brimmed in her eyes, Miles was able to de-escalate the situation and since then, he had been a shoulder to lean on when the brunt force that was Lewis Hamilton was too much for her to bear.

“I just wanted to make sure that she got the files that were being asked for, Mr Chamley. We all know she seems to let her little fashion hobby get in the way of her actual job here.” Lola smirked as she tucked her bleached strands behind her ear with a smirk.

Xenia chewed the inside of her cheek to simmer the twitch of her palm to reach over and slap her. There were a lot of things to be said about Xenia and the disdain of her current job occupation but to try and imply that she was any less but good at her job was deeply insulting. Lola, pruny and loudly made it known that it should have been her in the position that Xenia was in. And if she could switch their places, she would. But Mr Hamilton had made it clear that he only wanted Xenia, even though they seemed to have each other.

Miles sighed as he awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. “I’m sure that Miss Richards is more than capable of her job and has everything under control. Thank you, Lola.”

Lola huffed as she brushed her bleached strands from her shoulder and scattered away from Xenia’s desk. A sigh of relief left her lungs.

“Thank you, Miles.”

“Don’t thank me yet. What was that I heard about you not having a dress for tonight?”

A noise that sounded like a disgruntled groan left her mouth. She knew what he was going to say as she conjured up her excuse.

“I’m not going.”

“Come on Nia! You always say that!” Miles exclaimed with a hint of annoyance. His animated expression almost caused a smile to break out on her face.

”Listen. I’m always here as it is and I don’t want to stay here any longer than I need to. The party is in this building where I already feel suffocated and I won’t even be comfortable enough to drink. My enemies are everywhere and a drunken Xenia would be like food for fodder to the people.” Her last statement caused Miles to chuckle.

“I would much rather spend my night at home, take a nice and long bath then watch both versions of Black Christmas.” Her preferred plans sounded boring but they were honest. Xenia would rather enjoy her solitude than be surrounded by people who did not like her.

The annual Christmas party was the one thing that Xenia never had to set up; however, it was still her who ordered the decorations, figured out the catering and then the entertainment. Xenia was the unofficial party planner - another title under her hat that she was not getting paid for.

She was exhausted beyond belief.

Besides, she had too much to figure out before they broke for Christmas - Xenia wouldn’t be missed at the party.

“You can’t not go Nia.”

“Miles -.”

“Of course, she’s going. Why wouldn’t my assistant and the planner of the party be there?”

The deep voice of Satan bellowed through the air and almost forced Xenia to flee for her life. She had not seen him all day and now as she turned in her chair, she came face to face with her boss.

Lewis Hamilton. A brooding, muscled machine covered in a tailored suit and a million dollar Richard Mille watch on his wrist. Her eyes trailed down the thickness of his tattooed neck, broad shoulders and back up to his sharp jawline covered by his beard. Then her eyes settled on his soft and full lips that were tinted a soft pink. She hated to admit it but she loved his hair. He kept it in either braids or twisted plaits tied in a low bun. This time, two braided strands hung on either side of his face with the rest tied back which seemed to bring a softness to him that he did not deserve.

He was too handsome and ugly souls like him should not be handsome.

“I’m pretty tired sir. With everything that you’re having me do, I’m pretty worn out. I think I’ll sit this one out. Maybe next year?” Xenia let the sarcasm drip into her words and revelled in the way that he rolled his eyes.

“Not this time, Miss Richards.” Lewis spoke as he placed his hands into his pockets. The side of his face twitched in a way that showed that her tone had bothered him. He looked at Miles for a brief moment before turning his attention back to Xenia.

“Have you completed the list Mr Chamley gave you?”

Xenia frowned in confusion and slight annoyance. “You mean the list that he just gave me two seconds ago?”

“Watch that tone with me Richards. Get it done and then figure out your outfit situation for tonight.” His eyes dropped down the length of her frame, the heat of his stare forced her back straighter. “I’m sure because of your little hobby, you’ll be able to figure out something in such short notice.’

Without another word, he indicated for Miles to follow him before he turned and disappeared back into his office. That was it, a demand that he expected to be followed. No please. No thank you.

Dickhead.

Miles offered her an apologetic smile before he followed behind Lewis towards the office. Then she looked down at the list that had been placed in front of her.

Lunch from Bubala: Tuna Nicoise on toasted focaccia with the soup of the day.

Coffee order from Blank Street.

Dry cleaning from Nova’s (Need the shirt for tonight.)

She stared at the list, seemingly remembering the words from her interview. How she was supposed to his right hand and right hand only. Now she was doing that and somehow also finding the time to pick up his fucking laundry. Xenia looked around her surroundings before her moving eyes settled on the falling snow through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

The slow and steadiness at which the snowflakes seemed to fall was a drastic contrast to the fast pace that her mind was running. Maybe if she was lucky, Santa’s reindeer’s would run her over with his dry cleaning getting trampled on.

Xenia was surrounded by the settling blankets of picture perfect snow as she walked down the Main Street in her FENDI vintage boots. Christmas lights decorated the buildings with wreaths hanging on each lamp post. Everything around her was perfect and yet, Xenia still felt like the Grinch but who’s Christmas was being stolen from her.

Everything about the festive holiday that should give her all the joy was not giving her the warm and fuzzy feeling that it used to. This had been the feeling that had been sentiment since the first year at Hamilton Enterprises. Lewis seemed to have sucked the life out of her. However, Xenia had to take a deep breath and remind herself that she won't be a personal assistant forever.

Her fashion content was rising in popularity and it was only a matter of time before the vitality would turn into constant income then she would be able to leave. For good.

She sighed to herself once more as she hauled the dry cleaning over her shoulder as she entered into Bubala. The low lights, exposed brick and the flush of the Christmas colours added to the things that she adored about the shop. The queue to the counter was atrocious but it didn’t bother Xenia at all. It only prolonged her time away from the office. The smell of freshly baked goods, warm soup and the sounds of cheery, festive music was far more appealing to her than the four corners of her small cubicle.

As she waited in line, she scrolled through her emails, grinning at a report from Rebecca. She had already sorted through the first predicted quarter of the merchandise branch. She was a stickler for deadlines, often completing the work before the imposed time. How Rebecca was able to find the time to do it all? Xenia would never know.

“That smile will always outshine the brightest star.” A soft voice cut through the chatter of the restaurant and nestled within her ears. Her shoulder relaxed as she peered at the owner of the voice.

Nathan Fieldman.

Modality manager of the radiology department at the Great Ormond Street Children’s Hospital. A Marvel enthusiast and the owner of the cutest golden daschund she’d ever seen.

Also, her ex-boyfriend.

Xenia offered him a platonic embrace, his Sauvage cologne causing her eye to water. She almost wanted to sneeze in repulsion. As they pulled apart, upon instinct, he reached out to touch her standing Afro. Yes, he was one of those men. But that wasn’t the reason that they had broken up. (even though in the long-run, it should have been a reason.)

No, they broke up because the leader of the Legion army of hell demanded so much of her time that it cut into the spending time that she had with Nathan. Their schedules did not align any more and she felt sorry for always leaving him hanging and cancelling plans last minute.

The guilt was heavy within her as she often left him to fend for himself. When she had suggested however, to quit her job and focus on being a fashion content creator, he thought that it wasn’t wise nor a sustainable career. That had been the last wedge in the relationship. So by the time that Xenia had asked for the break up, Nathan did not put up any type of fight. He was complacent in almost everything including the bedroom.

Now that she thought about it, there were a lot of things outside of her job that had resulted in the termination of their relationship.

“So what has you smiling like that Nini?” The cringey nickname made her want to vomit. Xenia did not miss that at all.

“Nothing in particular. I was just reading a report.” She kept her answer vague. Nathan’s eyes narrowed, pulling the rich brown skin at the corners of his eyes together.

“You still haven’t found your footing huh?”

“Not quite.” She answered with a smile that did not touch her eyes. She tried to ignore the rising insecurity within her at the tone of condescension in his words. He didn’t need to know that her lack of growth in the field of her passion was a soft spot for her and constantly had her worried that she would fail. The last person that she needed to confine in was her ex-boyfriend.

Clearing her throat as she shuffled forward in the queue. “So how is everything with you?”

Nathan’s eyes beamed, the skin of his cheeks spreading his five o’clock fuzz as he delved into the details of his past year in about the twenty minutes as they waited. She learned about all of the unique patients that he had come across and the department drama amongst his plans to expand into teaching university students. Along his retelling, he had mentioned that he had started dating again.

“So how’s everything with you? How are things for you these days?” Nathan finally asked Xenia as the both of them paid the cashier for their individual orders.

She shrugged her shoulders. What was there to say? Nothing had changed in the last year she had spoken to him. She was still stuck in the same job that she hated, doing things for a man she’d rather watch eat shit for pay as she struggled to produce any consistent content for her website.

“Nothing much. Just learning from the best around me, really.”

“That’s good to hear. Did you finally give up on the fashion stuff then?”

It took all of her strength to not tell him that it took an entire weekend in the Cotswolds to find the vintage Tory Burch blazer that she was wearing but the ping of her phone stopped her. As Xenia was about to offer an apology, Nathan placed a kiss on her cheek and picked his order from the counter.

“Duty calls, I know. It was nice seeing you, Nini. Take care.” A deep breath exhaled through her nose as she nodded. Xenia then grabbed her own bag from the counter as she looked down at her phone.

Arsehole: Coffee from MonMouth instead. Get one for yourself - I can’t have you sleeping before your duties are done. And sushi from Atelier for Mile.

Where were those fucking reindeers? She thought.

reading list: @queenshikongo3 @dhlfastestlap @saintslewis @serpenttines-library @saturnville @hopefulromantic1 @lettersofgold @cocobutterqwueen @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @sapphireheaven @olyvoyl @lewisroscoelove @lh44adore @hellomadamebutterfly @scorpiobleue @laneywrld @qveenmelanink @tremendousstarlighttragedy @bekindbecoolbeyou @greedyjudge2 @itsapurrfectstorm @createdbylivingclocks @omgsuperstarg @peyiswriting @miyuhpapayuh @blowmymbackout @purplelewlew @henneseyhoe @perfecttrashface @alianovnaromanovanatalia @leilaxaliel @hotfudgeslug @iamryanl @pickingupmymercedes @eleetalks @ambs-06 @annisassintchaska @boujiestpoet @nayaesworld @nat-lh-44 @mochachocolatteyaya @melaninpov @kindan3rdy951 @elyseesarchive @sl33p-deprived-princess @soiguessimtheshit @acidlv @trinitoldyouso @gwenda-fav @f1-football-fiend

#mauvecherie writes #be mine this christmas:short story #lewis hamilton x xenia richards #lewis hamilton au #lewis hamilton short story #lewis hamilton x black oc #lewis hamilton x black reader #lewis hamilton x black!reader #lewis hamilton fanfiction #lewis hamilton fanfics #lewis hamilton fic #lewis hamilton #lh #sir lewis hamilton

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meganmeyers · 2 months ago

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POMEGRANATES & WINES

ACT ONE: DRIFTMARK

jacaerys velaryon x aunt!targtower oc

word count: 4k

masterlist: intro

act two: driftwood throne

warnings/includes: bastardphobia, blood, fighting, death(mentioned), lost of innocence(?)

Summary: Princess Averillia Targaryen was the 5th born child of Viserys Targaryen and Alicent Hightower in 117 A.C. Close in age to her nephew Jacaerys Velaryon a close friendship formed in between the two vicious families.

Note: Hello everyone! Just a warning! I haven’t written a fan fiction in a VERY long time. Like it’s been YEARS! So, I may be very rusty in the writing department. Another note: This will be a three-part story. It would be too long to make into a one shot. Also, this part deals with a lot of character building/ setting up the story.

The second princess to King Viserys Targaryen and Queen Consort Alicent Hightower was born just a bit more than a year after her brother Daeron Targaryen. The babe was shown to the courts in long and frivolous christening gowns and wrapped in the beautiful, embroidered blankets, a true look of a royal princess. The only thing not matching on the babe was her constant screams and crying when she was dressed in such gowns and wrapped in the blankets. Ear piercing screams were heard in the court rooms. A restless child truly, the restless of the five babes Alicent Hightower birthed.

As the princess grew, she began to grow a thick head of restless curly honey like blonde hair. A good resemblance to the late Queen Alysanne Targaryen and the early ancestors of the Hightower bloodline. The princess would have been mistaken for a Hightower if she didn’t bear the old Valyrian facial features and the lilac irises of the Targaryens. A stark difference to all 5 of her other siblings and her own father. Her restless hair only grew as restless as her for the continuation of tantrums she had. The toddler would argue in childish gibberish when she had on the fancier court dresses and when she was forced to attend the nursery with all her siblings and nephews. The child was content with being alone and in simple nightgowns day and night.

As a child she behaved in proper fashion, but the courts heard about the princesses' distastes in certain dresses, hairstyles, and colors. The dresses were all of simple styles and simple embroidered designs. The dresses were in shades of blues, purples, and creams. The biggest tantrums she had thrown were over the queen’s insistence in the color green. Oh, how the princess detested the color green. An entire collection of dresses was made for the princess in simple cuts and designs in all shades of green. The small girl had taken them all to the dragon pit and tried to have her elder sister's dragon, Syrax burn them. The princess Rhaenyra had quickly intervened when she found out the girl's intentions and had commissioned her to have new dresses made in shades of blues, purples, and creams. The Queen Alicent had finally given up the losing battle she was fighting with the Princess.

The courts had dubbed the young princess, “The Simple Princess” just as they had dubbed the Princess Rhaenyra, “The Realms Delight”.

When the princess reached the age of six, she demanded her father take her to Dragonstone to claim her own dragon after her nephew Prince Jacaerys, had bonded with his own dragon Vermax and told the little princess about it. The king Viserys had told the girl that she was too young to claim a dragon of that size that were living on Dragonstone. The princess let out cries after cries about how she’s not too young and that she should be able to have a dragon. The king, tired of the princesses' tantrums, decided that the entire family will spend some time on Dragonstone. The king was also hopeful that his son Aemond, would also have a chance to claim a dragon being the only other one of his children to not have a dragon.

While on Dragonstone it had taken no less than 5 hours after arrival for the Princess Averillia to go missing, also included the Prince Jacaerys to go missing as well. Everyone had searched for the Princess and Prince till after nightfall. A dragon keeper had found them deep in the dragon pit sleeping shoulder to shoulder under the wing of a relaxed Silverwing. Trying to retrieve the children was a hard challenge. Silverwing had been awoken by the royal family and dragon keepers entering her area of the pit. As if the children were eggs, she’d almost burnt a dragon keeper alive when she went to retrieve the children. The children remained there all night under Silverwing’s wing and the watch of three dragon keepers. Once the children had awoken, they were stinking of dragon and also gotten the most serious scolding from Rhaenyra on how dangerous and reckless they were. A family holiday wasn’t as thrilling being kept under watchful eyes the entire time.

Back in King Landing the Simple Princess quickly fell into the habit of being found constantly in the dragon pit with her dragon mount. The keepers constantly found her practicing her needlework, working on her High Valyrian, or working on her studies. Soon Prince Jacaerys became her partner in crime. Where Averillia was, Jacaerys would follow. Vermax also became familiar with Silverwing being his rider was constantly in close proximity with her rider. Being the ill-tempered beast he was he had thrown his own dragon tantrum and Silverwing had burnt a small bit of his tail scaring the young dragon. The children had broken into fits of giggles and laughter during the event.

The princess Rhaenyra had soon given birth to Prince Joffrey Velaryon. The young princess remembers seeing maids clean up blood along the halls from that day but didn’t know the reason. She also hadn’t known the reason for her friend to be leaving her. The little princess was distraught by the news of Jace and his family leaving. The little princess had puffy eyes during the departure of her sister's family, fearing she’d wouldn’t ever see them again.

The funeral hadn't been as gloomy as she thought they were supposed to be. She wasn't upset by the death of Laena Velaryon but also, she didn't know her. Averillia had only known her as her uncle Daemon's wife, also Jace and Luke's aunt though their father, Laenor. Many people from court also attended the funeral, they didn't seem to upset by the death of Laena Velaryon either. Averillia had found it a bis distasteful. If you didn't care for the one in the coffin, then why attended the funeral? The little princess had hoped that when the stranger comes for her that she'll be laid to rest by only her close relatives. Not made a spectacle about because she's from a powerful family.

She shouldn't worry about that now, since that's still many, many, many years away. Even if Lady Laena did pass away in childbirth meeting her end faster than when it was probably planned out for her. Averillia did have the fear of that being her fate, or more so her sisters. Helaena wasn't too much older than her and their mother had already started the planning on marrying her to Aegon. She found out after overhearing Aegon and Aemond's bickering over Helaena and her.

“Our silly sister, she confines herself to the womanly arts of needle work and etiquette then with anyone else. She’s a foolish girl, should have been sent to Oldtown with Daeron. She would have been made of better use there than here."

Hearing those words did hurt her feelings, she had known her brothers didn't favor her, but she wasn't useless. She had quickly left the funeral afterwards telling her mother she was feeling awfully ill. Which indeed she did start having an awful feeling in her belly, but she was confined to her bed for the rest of the evening or just left staring out the window of her room looking out at the landscape of Driftmark.

Once the sun had fallen behind the waves, she had decided she was done being couped up in her bedroom. She grabbed the bottom of her robe and nightdress and slowly made her way outside.

She walked along the stone paths to the beaches along the island. The air was indeed cold on the island, maybe a robe with sleeves would have been a better choice of clothing for this adventure. The princess had found her spot on the stretch of beach by the water. She picked at the small pieces of rocks and shells in the sand while taking in the colder air and salty smell.

"Illia?". The princesses head snapped around to find Jace standing by the edge of the line where the grass meets the sand. "Jace?", she answered. confused by him being outside. He was still dressed in his funeral clothes. "I didn't get to see you at the funeral today?", "I wasn't feeling well after we arrived, I guess I got seasick.". Jace had made his way up towards the princess as she answered him on her disappearance. "My brother gets seasick as well, and he had the shorter boat ride out of us." He sat down, next to the princess and she had gotten a good look at him and saw the puffy redness around his eyes.

"Have you been crying, Jace?", her hand reached up to move the bangs from his eyes for a clearer view. He immediately jumped back away from her hand, "Gods Illia, you're freezing!". The prince had been quick to remove his cloak and wrap her up in it. The princess had taken the extra layer without a second thought but still wanted an answer to her question. "You didn't answer my question, Jace.". Jace tightened his into a thin line before speaking. "Should you grieve for someone who's not your family?". Illia was a bit taken back by the question, "I suppose if you'd care for them enough, but there isn't a reason why you shouldn't. What has happened, Jace?".

"Sir Harwin. He died after he left. I shouldn't care, he wasn't related to us but still I-", "You shouldn't feel ashamed for that, Jace. You cared for him, and he very obviously cared for you. Theres nothing wrong with that.". Jace had sighed at her words. He knew she meant well but knew she hadn't realized the darker secret in his words.

"I have missed your company, Illia." He had turned to look at her when he said that. She gave him a small smile, "I have missed yours as well, even more now than ever...". Her eyes casted down to the darker water. "You seem to be the only person I'm not foolish too.". Illia had rested her head into her arms on her knees, hoping to hide her saddened look from Jace. "What on earth are you speaking of Illia? Who thinks you're foolish?", He moved closer in hopes of hearing her words more clearly over the sound of the waves.

"Aegon and Aemond, I heard them speak about it today at the funeral. Aegon said I'm a foolish girl who should have been sent to Oldtown, just as Daeron has. That I am of no use to the family, just a waste of space. I'm afraid that he may be right, I'll just be a useless girl who'll be married off to some old lord miles and miles away to solve father's political issues, in turn then birth the awful man heirs until I meet the stranger in a childbed - Illia had tears in her eyes at the words she repeated and of the fears she shared - or worse, I'll have to marry Aemond or Daeron. Just as mother has done with Aegon and Helaena." The little princess hides deeper into her arms only to see her golden hair wrap around her shoulders and arms.

"Is that why you had left the funeral early? Because of your foolish brothers? You know my mother wouldn't allow that Illia; she loves you. I also don't think you're foolish. You're just a girl. Aegon is a drunk who picks upon his siblings because he can't ever even try to do anything right. You bonded with the good Queen Alysanne's dragon mount at the age of six years old just because you didn't have a dragon, without the help of the dragon keepers either. -- he shakes her shoulders a bit to make her look at him -- You're an extortionary girl, Illia. A simple but extortionary girl.".

Illia's eyes have long dried, and she had started to smile more. "I truly did have an upset stomach though. But I have also truly missed you Jace." As soon as the girl had ended her sentence the screech of a dragon had been heard overhead of the prince and princess. Both looked to the night sky and seen the dragon of the late rider taken to air. A small but vivid outline of a person on the back of Vhagar.

"Jace... Who's claimed her?"

Both the prince and princess had run to the dragon pit to find an answer. They walked slowly into the pit to find Vhagar has landed and her rider dismount. "Who are you?", Jace's voice demanded into the hall of shadowy darkness. Slowly the figure walked into the light and revealed himself. "Aemond..."

"It's him!"

Behind them Rhaena, Baela, and Lucerys had walked into the pit. "Vhagar was my mother's dragon!" Rhaena had exclaimed, a look of pure anger was on the girl's face. "Your mother is dead! Vhagar has a new rider now." "Aemond! How can you be so cruel?", Averillia asked. "She was mine to claim!". "Maybe your cousins can find you a pig to ride - the boy looked from each prince to look right at Rhaena - it would suit you.". "Aemond!", Averillia screamed as Rhaena went to shove the blonde prince. He had thrown her to the ground, before he could turn back, he was hit hard across the face by Baela to which he returned the harmful action.

Averillia knew she shouldn't get involved but her brother had gone too far. The princess was fast to come to the aide of the two female cousins and go at her brother. She had gone for her brother's shoulders in a successful push, but she hadn't expected the boy to get a handful of her skirt and cause a tear in the gown's fabric. The boy had dragged his sister to the dirt in the action and quickly climbed on top of her. He had swung a quick hit to her head before being thrown off by Jacaerys. The boys fell back in the dirt and had swing after swing at each other.

Aemond had been able to roll them so that Jacaerys had been on the bottom rather than the top. Averillia had scrambled herself to stand up to see the turnover. Little Lucerys had decided to catch a taste of the fight and jumped right onto Aemond's back wrapping his arms around his neck. The blonde prince had stood up and shook his body trying to get the little prince to release his grip, in turn walking back into the blonde princess stepping upon her gown and causing the three to fall to the ground. Hitting the wall being the last one in the pile and little Lucerys had screamed at the impact of being sandwiched between the blonde siblings.

Jacaerys had grabbed the blonde prince and thrown him back to the ground throwing punch after punch. The two girls joined in the punching or at least Averillia thought they had; all she could hear was grunts and the sounds of thumping. Hair clung to the girls' face blocking her view from the ground. She heard someone fall to the ground and some more wrestling before a scream had been heard.

"You will die screaming in flames just as your father did!"

"Bastards"

Averillia had started to lift herself up and move her hair to see the sight of Aemond holding little Lucerys by the neck with a rock above his head. "My father is still alive!", Lucerys had cried. Hardly eligible with the snot, blood, and tears the small boy had all over his face.

"He doesn't know, does he, - Aemond had turned to Jacaerys - Lord Strong?". A smirk spread across Aemond's face at his final sentence. "Aemond... stop-", "Shut up Averillia! You're useless!". Aemond had spit back at the girl. Aemond had thrown the young prince to the ground before going at the elder brother. Averillia heard swishes of a blade cutting through the air before a loud thump was heard. Jacaerys had fallen right next to her in the dirt, "Jace?".

A rock suddenly came into view as Aemond smashed Jacaerys across the forehead with it. "No!", Averillia yelled as she had thrown dirt into her brother's eyes before giving him a good shove back. She turned her attention quickly to her only friend and head his bleeding head against her chest in hope of some sort of protection.

She heard the screams from behind her. A blood curdling scream. She lifted her head to find Aemond clutching his face and Lucerys standing above him.

Blood, dark blood mixed with the dirt under the blonde prince.

The halls of nine was quite dark no matter how tall the fire was. The small sounds of Aemond's flesh being sewn together was the only consistence of noise in the large hall.

"How could you allow this to happen? I will have answers!"

"The princes and princesses were supposed to be abed-'

"Who was on watch?"

"The young prince was attacked by his own cousins and sister, Your Grace."

"Averillia?"

Across the floor Averillia sat on what seemed to be a cushioned footstool as Jacaerys sat next to her; being held against her chest and Lucerys was on the floor hiding behind her exposed leg as if her leg would stop anymore danger to come to him. Her forehead had a nasty gash in her forehead from Aemond's ring and the back of her hair felt sticky. Her white nightgown was in ruins by the dirt, sand, water, blood, and the extreme tear along the side exposing her entire leg. Jace's blood was the major reason her golden robe was turning a dark red color. If her stomach hadn't hurt today, it surely did now in this very moment with her father and mothers intense staring at her.

A loud sound of the doors opening was heard and running footsteps were heard soon after getting the attention off of her and to whoever had walked into the room. Now the bloody blonde princess and dark-haired princes sat alone in the room.

"Jace?"

"Luke!" Fast foots steps were heard as Rhaenyra rushed towards her sons. "Show me.", Luke had rushed towards his mother fast as she crouched down to the princes and princess's level. "Oh gods, Illia!". Rhaenyra rushed to examine Jace and Illia's heads and faces through the blood and dirt. "Who's done this?"

The room bursts into screams from accusations from each child. Illia wanted to cry from her sorehead as she felt the pain of it all now as the room got louder.

"Silence!"

"He called us bastards..."

"Averillia. I want the truth of what happened."

"What else is there to hear? Your son was maimed, and her sons and our daughter were responsible." "It was a regrettable accident."

"The prince brought a blade to the ambush! He meant to kill my son!"

"It was my sons and sister who were attacked and forced to defend themselves! Vile insults were levied against my sons."

"What?"

"He called them bastards, Father.". Attention had turned to the young bloody princess sitting holding the elder equally as bloody prince. Aemond's eye had a scowled look in it before Rhaenyra had stepped more in front of all three of children after the attention shifted.

"My sons are in line to inherit the Iron Throne, Your Grace. This is the highest of treasons."

"You tell me boy. Where had you heard such insults."

"Where's Sir Laenor?" "I don't know, I had gone out to walk because I couldn't find sleep. I had found Illia's shoes and Jace's cloak on the beach shore and thought something must have been wrong."

Eyes were again on the bloody prince and princess as they slowly stood behind Rhaenyra. "You tell me Aemond. Where did you hear such slander?"

"From the Prince Jacaerys himself, Your Grace. He had confessed to Averillia right on the beach."

Gasps were heard across the room, all eyes turned to the bloody pair. "That's not true! Mother that is not what happened!", "Illia. Did my son tell you this?". "No, he did not Sister. I swear upon the old gods and the new."

"Of course she'll defend him! I wouldn't be surprised considering the fact that she had given herself to him on the beach. Look at the blood down her legs!"

"You lie! Mother that didn't happen!" Rhaenyra looked down and saw the bright red blood trickling down her young sisters exposed leg pooling at the floor. "Illia?". The young princess let out an ear-piercing cry at the sight. "You foolish girl! You ran around and decided to just give your virtue to some boy! You ruin yourself for your future!".

"That's not true. I didn't do it. I didn't. I didn't. I didn't."

Alicent continued to scream at the little princess in front of the entire room. Rhaenyra had taken to comfort her young sister. It was far too much blood for it to be her virtue. The young princess had gotten her first course. "Father! You must cease this!", Rhaenyra cried to try and aide her younger sister. "It wasn't her virtue; it's her monthly course, father. Please cease this!"

The room has gotten silent except for the small princess's cries.

"This matter has finished. As your king I demand it. Whoever decides to spread such accusations of my grandson's parentage or my daughter's condition; shall have their tongue removed."

"Sir Criston, bring me the eye of Lucerys Velaryon. If the King decides to ignore the transgression the Queen will not. He can choose which eye to keep; a privilege that wasn't granted towards my son."

Illia was shoved behind her sister at the demand. Illia had never truly been scared of her mother until this moment. More yelling had been heard before the ear-piercing scream of Luke was sounding in her ear drum.

Alicent, her mother. Was charging right at them with her father's blade. Illia was then pushed back by someone before tripping over the footstool she had been sat on earlier. Falling back to hit the floor hard.

"Illia?" "Illia, wake up! Oh gods! Call the Maester. Now!"

Averillia woke up in a room that wasn't hers. "Illia?"

Averillia opened her eyes more and saw her sister and nephews standing above her. Fabric had been shoved up Lukes's nose and Jace had his head wrapped in fabric as well. "Thank the Gods you have woken up Illia." Rhaenyra ran a hand over her head and held her chin after this. "You had taken a nasty fall last night, Sweet Girl."

Illia's eye just stared widely at Rhaenyra before getting increasingly glassy with tears. "Boys. Leave us at once. Go tell the Maester that she's awakened." A door closing had broken the small princess to fly into Rhaenyra's arms in chest wracking sobs. "Illia, sweet girl. What's the matter? What troubles you so badly?"

"I- I- I- n- n-noth- nothing hap- nothing happened between Jace and I sister! Pl- Please believe me!" The girl got out through hiccups and cries. Rhaenyra just sighed and cradled the girl closer to her, giving a gentle rocking as if she was a tiny babe. "I know that, Illia. The Maesters had confirmed last night that you did indeed start your womanly cycles, and also Jace told me what actually happened on the beach. I've raised Jace to be a more respectable man then that."

The little princess let out more cries, "I'm so-sorry, Rhae-", "Shh. Relax sweet girl. You've gotten nothing to be sorry about. Just try taking deep breathes. You're safe."

endnote: Thank you for reading! please let me know what you think of the story so far!

#jacaerys targaryen #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys x reader #hotd #hotd fanfic #hotd jacaerys #jace velaryon #jace velaryon x reader #jacaerys targaryen x reader #jacaerys velaryon x reader #house of the dragon #rhaenyra targaryen #alicent hightower #asoiaf #asoiaf x reader #hotd x reader

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msbigredmachine · 2 months ago

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☕Roman Reigns Menu☕

☕SIGNATURE DRINKS☕

Finding Angel (BRAND NEW)

In a world of bright lights, dark secrets, and sizzling chemistry, pro wrestling's biggest star finds his Angel. But as undeniable as their passion is, so are the obstacles threatening to tear them apart. [In progress]

The Boy Next Door

A sexy mysterious man is new in town…but mystery is not all he brings with him… (Co-written with @harmshake) AU romance/psychological thriller. [Completed]

Power Couple - The Series

They say, “Behind every great man stands a great woman”. But behind the Universal Champion and the Tribal Chief is a different breed of woman, a force of nature capable of bringing even the Head of the Table to his knees…and vice versa. [Completed]

Into The Deep End - The Saga

Sasha has always tried to play it safe, to keep her life as simple and risk-free as possible. Things change, however, when she garners the interest of a handsome, charming, younger man from a completely different world than hers. As she starts to question her own rules, is she ready to take the biggest chance of them all? Will she let herself take that dive? My very first Roman fic set circa 2014. [Completed]

Targets

Roman Reigns is an agent in the secret organization The Authority and one of the world’s deadliest assassins. When he crosses paths with a mysterious woman during an assignment, he makes a life-changing decision that switches his role from the hunter to the hunted. (AU Espionage Story) [Completed]

Roman & Jaida: The We Are Series

He’s not her most favorite person in the world, but she finds it in her heart to be there for him in his time of need. In return, he shows her just how much he appreciates it. Set around the events of the 2015 Royal Rumble and the Blizzard Raw the night after. [Completed]

You Consume Me

She was beautiful, tempting, carefree, and everything I thought I wanted in a woman. One taste and I was hooked, abandoning everything and everyone I cared about to be with her. What I failed to see was the other side of her; a side that was dark, dangerous…Deadly. [Completed]

Come What May

Today was supposed to be the happiest day of her life. So why did she feel like she was making the biggest mistake of her life? (Roman Reigns/OC/Tama Tonga) [Completed]

☕DOUBLE SHOTS☕

You Again

That awkward moment when the biggest star in pro wrestling happens to be your high school bully…and he’s in your office. A 2-part series [Completed]

Talking Body

Photoshoots, lingerie and a long overdue baecation are in store for Roman and Gia heading into their five-year(ish) anniversary. Let’s hope it all goes off without a hitch. [Completed]

☕SPECIALTY BREWS☕

Off The Record - When passion gets recorded, it becomes the hottest track of the year. Roman/Black Fem Rapper!OC

Midnight Sparks - On New Year’s Eve, the OTC retreats to a quiet bar, craving solitude. When a confident and captivating woman crosses his path, their connection ignites, turning a quiet night into something unforgettable.

Nothing Left - The tale of a marriage built on trust, torn apart by lies, and a woman’s breaking point that should never have been reached.

Handsy - When the OTC asks for help and you oblige him, he’s very happy to return the favor.

Behind The Mask - Sometimes love demands that you fight not for yourself—but for someone who can’t fight back.

Cheat Meal - The OTC is hungry for a whole lot more than just good food.

Butterscotch & Chocolate - What’s better than a hunky, rich and powerful Samoan boyfriend? Why, two, of course! (Roman Reigns/OC/The Rock)

Kitty Kat - After a lifetime of searching, the Tribal Chief may have finally found the woman of his dreams. Post-Summerslam 2024.

Black Sweatpants - Why did the Tribal Chief arrive late to the Pat McAfee Show? Based on Roman’s appearance on March 22 2024.

Checkmate - The new Smackdown GM reminds the Tribal Chief who’s boss, in more ways than one. The aftermath of the highly entertaining WrestleMania 40 Press Conference.

Santa Daddy🎄- All the Tribal Chief wants for Christmas is you.

Sugar & The Chief - Reader is a best-selling erotic author reflecting on the success of her newest novel, which is based on her secret affair with the man who became her muse.

Say Cheese - A steamy after-work rendezvous with the Tribal Chief and his princess is captured in 4K.

In Peace - When one of the Wiseman’s incessant phone calls comes at the wrong time 🙄.

Here With Me - As the Bloodline Civil War takes an unexpected turn of events, Reader comes up with the perfect pick-me-up for her Tribal Chief. Post-Summerslam 2023.

M.K.A.M. (My Kinda Morning) - Who says birthday sex has to end after the birthday?

Dirty Little Secret - They are each other’s escape, too good to let go of. Until they have to let go.

I Still Heart You - This year, Valentine’s Day takes an interesting turn for two exes.

Latch - The most meaningful conversations take place in the shower.

Daddy The Sub - The Tribal Chief comes home to receive his punishment.

Feedback - The Tribal Chief loves it when you tell show him how much you like his promos. Set after that epic unification contract signing segment of Feb 25, 2022

Sex On The Beach - Remember that “Running Around Naked” promo the Tribal Chief cut some months ago? Well, this is exactly what happened on the private island…in my mind at least.

Boss Lady - It’s always good to have a close working relationship with your boss. But what if you want to be closer? More importantly, what if the feeling is mutual? AU.

I Won’t Let You Fall -She was ready to give up on herself, but one man had to let her know he was not ready to lose her, even if it meant revealing a certain secret he’d kept to himself for years.

Gold Digger - Roman is having a hard time getting rid of his gold-digging ex-wife. What exactly does he have to do to get her out of his life permanently? AU.

Believe - Still hurting from a nasty breakup, Livia is convinced that love does not exist. But Roman decides to prove her wrong…in the most romantic way possible.

The One That Got Away - On the biggest night of her career, Hollywood movie star Beverley Tyler looks back on what might have been. There are things more important than fame and fortune. Beverley learned that the hard way.

The Mechanic - An impromptu trip to a service station leads to an encounter with a sexy mechanic. Her car isn’t the only thing he works on. AU.

☕ESPRESSO SHOTS☕

Kiss Me (200 Words in May Challenge)

All banners made by me.

Credit to all the owners of the pictures and gifs.

Divider by @thecutestgrotto

Please don't steal my content. Thank you!

#roman reigns #roman reigns fanfic #wwe #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns smut #roman reigns x black oc #roman reigns imagine #roman reigns x black reader #msbigredmachine writes #the tribal chief #the otc #otc #the bloodline

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dark-moonlust · 6 months ago

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The Summoning of Vassago

Commission for anonymous Patreon friend for August 2024! Enjoy! Slots are open!

Pairing: demon oc: Vassago x witch oc: Kestrel

Summary: Kestrel, a white witch, struggles to sleep because of a spell book filled with dark magic. After having a vivid dream about a mysterious man with brilliant orange eyes, she discovers the book on her bed, despite leaving it in her office. Unable to resist, she casts the spell, summoning Vassago, a strong demon who promises to grant her deepest wishes.

Warnings: minors don't interact, NSFW, explicit smut, oral (fem receiving), p in v sex, size kink and big 🍆, lots of 💦, mating bite.

Kestrel tossed and grumbled as visions, powerful and unsettling consumed her sleep. A man chased her in her dreams, tall and handsome, his presence so strong it made her feel heated throughout. It felt so real. He caught her, trapping her in his embrace. He had dark hair and eyes that burned with an orange glow. A grin on his handsome lips, he held an ancient spell book and pointed to a specific page and cryptic symbols. His captivating eyes prompted her to look closer, and she did.

Eyes snapping open, she jolted awake, her forehead sweaty, her heart racing. A strange heat burned deep inside her. Magic, pure and primal flew through her, crackling beneath her skin. Her breath caught in her throat as she turned and saw the spell book on the bed beside her. She stared at it in disbelief. She could swear she had left it in her office, locked away.

Yet there it was, sitting innocently, open on the same page as the stranger had shown her in her dream.

Chills spread throughout her skin.

The night was strangely silent, the air dense with a tension she couldn't shake.

She had not expected her dreams to be absorbed by the spell book she had brought home from the library. The book buzzed with black magic, and she intended to safeguard the innocent by bringing it home for safekeeping. She could withstand bad magic since she was a white witch, strong and surrounded by the bright light of good magic.

But now, after the dream and the unexpected movement of the book, she wasn't so sure.

Closing her eyes, she tried to calm herself, but as soon as her eyelashes slid shut, she saw him. He appeared again, towering and powerful, his eyes piercing through her like before. Kestrel’s eyes snapped open, her chest rising and falling with rapid breaths. She glanced at the book and the heat inside her grew stronger, almost unbearable. It was as if her own magic was boiling beneath her skin, demanding release.

Kestrel hesitated, biting her lip as energy sizzled from the book. It spoke her name in a deep voice that only she could hear and understand. Her fingers trembled as she reached out to touch the page of her dream. The symbols came from an ancient script she didn't identify, but she comprehended every word. Her heart thudded, her core clenched as she focused on the name written across the page:

Vassago.

When her fingertips touched the name, a burst of magic passed through her. She gasped and her body lit up with power, a raw and uncontrollable force rolling through her. She felt alive, more alive than she had ever felt.

Dangerous. It was dangerous. He was dangerous.

The demon Vassago, the demon of temptation, able to make one’s wildest fantasies and desires come true. He wasn't simply a demon, but a supreme being with enormous power, the kind witches like her were warned never to summon. According to legend, strong sorcerers sacrificed their lives to confine Vassago in the book for seeking a forbidden treasure.

But now, it was too late. The book was crumbling, its magic unleashed, the demon half-released.

The heat inside her intensified, leaving her feeling achingly empty. Her magic burned with the desire to be released, and the more she fought, the more it clawed at her insides, demanding that she cast the spell and let it go. Before she could stop herself, she was reciting the spell. The air in her small bedroom thickened as the magic around her swirled like a storm, gathering in intensity. The shadows deepened and only the light from the full moon cast shafts of light through the deepening darkness.

And then, he appeared.

Vassago emerged from a circle of shadows, his dark presence dominating the room and dwarfing her form. Dark hair fell on his shoulders, whisps cascading over his angular face, and those eyes—those exact flaming orange eyes from her dream—gazed at her with fierce intensity. And bloody hell, he was naked, his body sculpted like stone, every muscle defined and rippling under his dark skin.

Kestrel gulped, unable to take her gaze away from him, his bulging cock, and heavy balls. He was huge in every way and his bits were just as provocative. His dick was long, thick and throbbing, the girth of it covered in ridges. The great demon stood at the foot of her bed, his lips twisted into a knowing smile as if he'd been waiting for this moment.

“You called for me,” he said in a deep husky voice. “And I came."

Kestrel remained breathless, her magic humming beneath her skin as she met his gaze. She tried to resist, fight him, but his power and presence engulfed her, drawing her in and drowning her senses. She wasn’t afraid as she should have been but instead, she felt… excited. Thrilled. Aroused. In need.

Vassago crawled onto her bed, his weight causing the mattress to dip. “You summoned me, my treasure. And I shall fulfill your deepest desires,” he said in a low, seductive murmur. “Shall we begin?”

“No!” The very word hurt her soul. Kestrel denied the agony and grabbed the covers, trying to ignore the heat in his body. He was only inches away from her curled form. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean for this to happen,” she stammered. “Go away… please…”

Yet, even as she spoke the words, something inside her shifted, unleashing a knot of desire deep in her core. Her magic, wild and untamed, flared inside her, wetness pooling in her pussy. She had never before been so aroused, every inch of her body so achingly alive with need. And the delicious heat of him was overwhelming, it made her rub her thighs, unable to control herself.

“Your body says what your heart is reluctant to accept.” Vassago crawled to her, his big body caging her in. “You can’t deny what you truly want, Kestrel.”

Kestrel's pulse quickened, and she shook her head, but she did not react when he dragged away the covers. She only sighed pleasurably, desiring his touch on her. It felt so good to be touched by him. Vassago’s smile widened, his sharp fangs glinting as he trailed his fingertips over her clothed shoulders. She shivered and looked at him, her face flushed.

“I can feel it, Kestrel,” he whispered, his mouth poised over her lips. He didn’t touch her, but his breath scalded her. “You called for me—your soul, your body, your magic… they crave me.”

“I can’t…” she muttered, her hands shaking into fists at her sides. “I can’t let you in.”

“You don’t have to fight it. Let go, my treasure. Let me give you what we’ve both been denied. All you have to do is say yes.”

The moment he lowered his head and took her lips, a low, needy whimper escaped her. Kestrel’s heart and body betrayed her. He claimed her mouth, his tongue coaxing it open so that his tongue could slip inside. Kestrel moaned and clutched his chest, nails digging into the hard muscles as he fed her his tongue, thrusting it into her mouth. Their tongues danced and mated, her magic leaping to meet his and merging.

“Say yes?” he asked, peppering moist kisses on her neck.

“Yes…” Kestrel whispered, finally giving in. Her soul wanted him.

Her body trembled at his touch, a swirling tempest of desire and lust urging her onward. He took action, pushing his fingers into her hips as he lowered her down, his strong body covering hers. Skillful hands tugged at her clothes until she was fully exposed to his eyes. She shuddered, biting her lip as he took his fill of her, his gaze kissing her naked body.

“Kestrel…” he whispered, entranced.

His mate was a vision of soft, natural beauty; flushed and needy, her green eyes sparkling like emeralds, her honey-blonde hair fanning over the sheets. Lips soft and pink from his kisses. Breasts round and pert, nipples taut and begging to be suckled. Thighs soft and creamy and in between, the prettiest, most glistening pussy that seemed to glow with its own magic.

His lips crashed against hers and she melted under him, her legs opening, her arms wrapping around his neck. Big hands cupped her breasts, his fingers squeezing her nipples causing Kestrel to whine. Mouth leaving her mouth, he wetted one nipple then shifted to the other. He suckled them loudly while his free hand opened her thighs and draped them over his bulging thighs.

Trickles of arousal oozed out of her pussy and in a heartbeat, he was devouring it, head between her legs, his warm mouth fastened over her cunt. Kestrel squirmed but his hands held her in place. She could only whine as he swirled his wicked tongue, lapping up her essence. The demon feasted on her, then settled on her clit while thrusting a thick finger inside. She saw stars, she floated in a sky of pleasure and came with unbidden cries, her orgasm more explosive than anything she had ever felt before.

He didn’t stop.

One finger became two, two became three, spreading her hole wider. The pressure on her clit increased, sending shockwaves of ecstasy through her. It was too much but she arched into his touch, every fiber of her being desperate for him to fill her. Frantic, Kestrel reached down and grasped his hot cock with both palms. The demon growled appreciatively as she traced the thick girth of him. His shaft was very warm and velvety, the ridges everywhere, even on the round weeping head.

“Finally,” Vassago sighed, rising to his knees, while she held his cock like a rod in her small palms. “Put me inside you little pussy, mate.”

Shaking with need, Kestrel aligned his throbbing cock to her entrance. The head pulsed again her soaked folds, opened them and speared inside. Her spine curled as he rolled his hips and every inch of him filled her up. He was so thick and long but he didn’t hurt her, didn’t tear her flesh. Their combined magic protected her. His dick invaded her, buried itself deep within her.

Breathing fast, Kestrel kissed him. She felt him everywhere, around her, within her, his magic and soul one with her. He kissed her back, primal groans and moans leaving him as he claimed his soulmate, his treasure. His massive frame curved around her, protectively as he pounded into her. Kestrel accepted him completely; she was so wet that his cock slipped in and out of her with ease, the plap-plap of their bodies echoing through the room.

"You are mine now. My treasure has been found," he drawled, licking her nipples, propelling her higher and higher.

“Yours,” Kestrel said breathlessly, her tits bouncing with each powerful stroke. Eyes shutting tightly, she came again, pussy seizing around his shaft, her cries reverberating in the room.

Vassago drank in her melodic moans while fucking her, lifting her legs and opening her up fully. He marveled at her little slit being stretched by his cock, her wetness soaking his balls and thighs. He rubbed her cute clit, holding her hostage to his touch while she struggled and cried. A slave to pleasure.

His ridged cock caressed her sensitive walls, slamming back and forth with a force that pushed the air out of her lungs. Vision fading, Kestrel came again, her insides fluttering around his thrusting cock. A whimpering mess, she clutched him for dear life and accepted his fierce kiss.

He followed then, plunging to the hilt and flooding her. He spurted load after load of wet heat, filling her up for minutes on end. And when he was finished, he moved their bodies to the side, his muscled body fitting against her softness, and stayed buried deep inside, his cock pulsing up her belly.

“Yes,” he breathed softly against her ear. “My beautiful mate, in my arms, filled with my cock. They tried to take me away from you. They tried but you found me. You found me, my treasure.”

“Who did this? Who hurt you?” Kestrel asked. She knew he was telling the truth. She had been drawn to that book, to him, for a reason.

“Sorcerers of the light. They thought they could keep me trapped in that damned book,” he explained as his hands found hers, intertwining their fingers. “They feared what we would be together—the power we would wield. You, a witch of light, and me, a demon of darkness. You were a treasure I was never supposed to have. But none of that matters now. Because you found me.”

“I am your treasure? Truly?”

“Hmm… you are my treasure, Kestrel. The other half of my soul. My mate,” he drawled, his molten orange eyes burning with something more than just lust.

Everything made sense. Kestrel felt her magic ignite in answer, and her heart swelled with strength and love. The demon had claimed her, and all she wanted to do was give in. Angling her head, her lips found his in a blazing collision of hunger and need. Vassago groaned, his hard cock throbbing inside her, thrusting lazily. His body pressed harder against hers, his palms fondling her sensitive breasts. They moved together, slowly, enjoying every second of their union.

“Mine,” he whispered against her lips, his cock stealing away her breath. “My mate. My equal. My love. No magic, no force can keep me from you. And I am yours. Forever.”

Kestrel pulled back from the kiss just enough to meet his eyes. “I feel it too. The bond. The need. The love. I can’t bear the thought of being away from you. Vassago, you are my mate. I accept you fully.”

Growling, his lips moved lower, brushing against her neck, his fangs trailing the smooth skin. “We’ll never be apart. I will tear apart the realms to keep you by my side.

And then he bit, his fangs sinking into her skin and claiming her forever and irrevocably as his. The mate of Vassago. The demon’s treasure. Kestrel moaned in pain and bliss and convulsed around his thrusting cock. She succumbed to him and to the bond they shared. They were united by fate, love, and something far more than each of them could have imagined. And that was all that mattered.

THE END

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thef1diary · 7 months ago

Text

Royally Fucked | One

— Guarded Encounter

series masterlist

wc: 2.9k

here it is, my first ever oc and au story with my beloved ofc!! Let’s hop in to a world of royalty, romance, and restrictions. Thank you sm to @chilling-seavey for proofreading and letting me talk about Juliette and Daniel for hoursss, this story literally wouldn’t be written without your support <3

─────────── ♛ ───────────

The morning sun cast a golden glow over the secluded outdoor training grounds of the palace, filtering through the lush canopy of ancient oak trees, creating intricate patterns of light and shadow on the freshly mowed lawn. The spring air was crisp and fresh, carrying the faint scent of blooming jasmine and the distant murmur of the bubbling fountain that had rested in the courtyard for centuries.

Juliette stood alone in this tranquil space, a considerable distance from the bustling palace. The noise of the palace–where maids were likely preparing for the day and guards stood watchful at every corridor–was a stark contrast to the serene quietude of the training grounds. Here, in the calm early morning, she found a fleeting sense of peace before the grounds would be teeming with activity. The only sounds were the gentle rustling of the leaves in the breeze and the soft, rhythmic thud of her arrows hitting the target.

Juliette drew another arrow from her finely crafted quiver, its polished wood glinting in the sunlight. With practiced grace, she nocked the arrow and drew back the string of her elegant bow, the tension humming in her ears. She took a deep breath, the cool morning air filling her lungs, and focused intently on the distant target. The world around her seemed to fade away, leaving only the bow, the arrow, and her steady heartbeat.

As she released the arrow, it soared through the air with a faint whisper, striking the bullseye with a satisfying thud. Juliette allowed herself a small, triumphant smile, her eyes lingering on the target for a moment longer before she heard footsteps approaching from behind.

Drawing another arrow from her quiver, she spoke without turning around, her voice steady and tinged with mild annoyance. “You’re late.”

“Apologies, Your Royal Highness,” came an unfamiliar accented voice, smooth and respectful.

Startled by the unexpected voice, Juliette spun around, bow still in hand, nocked with an arrow, and instinctively pointed it at the source of the unknown voice. Before her stood a man in a sharply tailored suit, his attire crisp and formal. A pair of dark sunglasses concealed his eyes, but the cheeky glint in them was betrayed by the playful smile that tugged at his lips. His curly hair, slightly tousled and catching the morning light, added an effortless charm to his otherwise polished appearance.

He raised his hands in a placating gesture, his expression calm and slightly amused, a hint of cheerfulness in his demeanour that seemed at odds with the seriousness of the situation.

“I was not informed you would be here, so it took me a while to find you,” the man continued, crossing his arms for a moment before pointing at the weapon in Juliette’s hand. “Do you always point a bow and arrow at your bodyguard?”

“Who are you? Where’s Oliver?” Juliette demanded, her gaze sharp as she assessed the stranger before her.

“I’m Daniel Ricciardo, Your Royal Highness.”

“That doesn’t explain who you are.”

“I’m pretty sure telling you my name does,” Daniel said with a slight smile, crossing his arms again confidently. “But to clarify, I’m your new bodyguard.”

“New bodyguard?” Juliette asked, still not lowering her guard entirely.

Daniel smiled, nodding. “I’m here to fill in for Oliver while he’s on paternity leave.”

“Paternity leave?” She repeated, incredulously. “And no one thought to inform me?”

“It appears so, Your Royal Highness,” Daniel replied, a hint of amusement in his tone. “I understand the surprise, but I assure you, I am qualified to protect you. Now will you lower the bow?”

The princess, still not convinced, cast a skeptical glance towards the palace doors, which stood a fair distance away. A few other guards were stationed there, ever vigilant. Her voice carried an authoritative tone as she called out, “guards.”

Two of the palace guards approached, maintaining their respectful distance. Juliette pointed towards Daniel, her eyes narrowing. “Is he my new bodyguard?”

Daniel, noticing the guards, gave them a playful wave, his lips curling into a friendly smile as he muttered their names in acknowledgement.

One of the guards, nodding, confirmed, “yes, Your Royal Highness. Your previous bodyguard is on paternity leave for one year starting today. Daniel Ricciardo has been assigned as your temporary guard.”

Juliette scrutinized Daniel for a moment longer before dismissing the guards with a curt nod and a wave. “Very well. You may stay,” she directed at Daniel.

As the guards returned to their posts, Juliette resumed her archery practice, her movements precise and fluid. Occasionally, she glanced towards Daniel, who watched her with an encouraging smile, his demeanour relaxed yet attentive.

Determined to test his capabilities, Juliette decided to issue a challenge. She turned to Daniel, her expression a mix of curiosity and skeptism. “Show me what you’ve got. Let’s see if you can match my aim.”

Daniel’s eyes twinkled with mischief as he removed his sunglasses, revealing a spark of playful confidence. “As you wish, Your Royal Highness.”

As he took the bow from her, Juliette caught a hint of his cologne–a subtle, sophisticated scent that lingered in the air, adding an unexpected touch of elegance to the moment. Daniel took careful aim, and with a fluid practiced motion, released the arrow. It flew straight and true, hitting the target dead center. The arrow quivered in the bullseye, a perfect shot.

Juliette raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching slightly in surprise, though she did her best to mask it. “Beginner’s luck,” she said, maintaining her composure.

“Perhaps,” Daniel replied, handing the bow back to her with a grin. “But I’m confident I can keep up with you.”

The sun began to climb higher in the sky, casting longer shadows across the training grounds. The peaceful solitude of the early hours was gradually being replaced by the sounds of the palace stirring to life. Juliette could hear the distant chatter of servants as they wandered around the garden, completing their tasks one by one.

As she released the next arrow, she felt Daniel’s presence close behind her, a silent, watchful guardian. There was no need for conversation, save for the occasional words of encouragement and compliments from Daniel. Juliette appreciated that he understood the importance of remaining as quiet as possible, even though she preferred complete silence. It was a change she would have to adjust to, no matter how irritating, since Daniel was an unorthodox bodyguard, different compared to what she was used to with Oliver.

Oliver had been stoic and reserved, his demeanor always serious and focused. He rarely spoke unless absolutely necessary, blending into the background and providing a comforting, silent presence. Daniel, on the other hand, was cheerful and approachable, exuding a relaxed yet attentive confidence. His occasional light-hearted comments were a stark contrast to Oliver’s predictability, adding a new dynamic Juliette wasn’t sure how to handle yet.

─────────── ♛ ───────────

As Juliette walked through the grand halls of the palace, the opulence and history that surrounded her were unmistakable. Ornate chandeliers hung from high, vaulted ceilings, casting a warm golden light that danced off the marble floors. Tapestries depicting the kingdom’s rich history adorned the walls, their vibrant colours a stark contrast to the cool, elegant stone. Large windows allowed the waning sunlight to stream in, creating a serene yet majestic atmosphere.

The palace was a hive of activity, with maids bustling about, preparing for the evening, while guards remained vigilant at their posts. The air was filled with the aroma of the fresh flowers set in vases, and a hint of lavender that Juliette favoured. Noting the time, Juliette knew the hustle inside the palace would calm down as the day would go on, like clockwork.

As she continued her determined march, she finally spotted King Albert returning from a diplomatic trip. She quickened her pace, Daniel trailing a few steps behind, his presence a constant, reassuring shadow.

“Father, I should know about my bodyguard’s whereabouts as much as he should know about mine,” she started without properly greeting her father, following him into a room before glancing at Daniel pointedly. “So why wasn’t I informed about the change from Oliver to Daniel?”

The king, sensing her distress, gestured for Daniel to leave. Daniel nodded at both her and the king before stepping outside the room, giving them privacy.

Once the door clicked shut, the king turned to his daughter, his expression softening. “I know Oliver was like a close friend as much as a protector to you, but his absence was unavoidable. I personally appointed Daniel because he is the best of the best. I would not trust just anyone to protect you, and you know that.”

Juliette frowned, still unhappy but reassured by her father’s confidence in Daniel. “I just wish I’d been informed.”

“I understand,” King Albert said gently. “I should have informed you myself. WIth everything happening, it slipped my mind. But believe me, Daniel is exceptional. He’s not just skilled; he’s loyal and trustworthy. Give him a chance. You’ll see he’s more than capable.”

Juliette nodded in agreement, deciding to try her best to adjust to an unfamiliarity in her structured routine. Her father’s words lingered in her mind, softening her resistance, but she couldn’t shake off the irritation of not being informed. If he trusted Daniel, then perhaps she should give him a fair chance. Yet, the thought of replacing Oliver, who was like a close friend, gnawed at her. How could Daniel, with his cheerful demeanor, fit into the role of her protector?

As she left the room, Daniel perked up, falling into step behind her.

“Your Royal Highness,” Daniel said softly as they walked. She turned to face him, her expression void of any emotion. “I’m sorry for the abrupt introduction earlier. I assure you, in a couple days, you won’t feel the difference between Oliver and I at all.”

Juliette studied him for a moment before nodding, “We’ll see, Daniel, in a few days, how true that is.”

Deciding to test Daniel’s capabilities and patience, she thought of assigning him a series of errands. “Follow me to the library,” she ordered.

To Juliette, the library was one of the most majestic rooms in the palace, a sanctuary of knowledge and history. High, vaulted ceilings adorned with intricate frescoes depicting scenes from the kingdom’s past loomed overhead. The walls were lined with dark mahogany bookshelves that stretched from floor to ceiling, filled with an extensive collection of leather-bound volumes, ancient manuscripts, and modern texts. Each shelf was meticulously organized, reflecting the care and reverence given to the collection.

Juliette led Daniel through the vast room, the faint scent of aged paper and leather filling the air. She moved with ease among the towering bookshelves, her fingers occasionally brushing against the spines of the volumes she knew so well. This library was more than just a repository of knowledge; it was a sanctuary, a place where she spent countless hours lost in thought or absorbed in a book. After the training grounds, it was her second home.

“If you ever can’t find me anywhere else in the palace, I’m most likely here,” Juliette said, her voice soft but certain. She paused by the ladder on wheels and pointed to a stack of books perched on a particularly high shelf, their spines gleaming in the soft, golden light.

Daniel smoothly maneuvered the ladder, retrieving the requested volumes with practiced ease. As he handed her the books, he glanced around the library, taking in the room’s opulence and the sheer number of books. “Are you an avid reader, Your Royal Highness?” he asked, curiosity tinged his tone.

Juliette shrugged slightly, a faint smile playing on her lips. “I love organizing this place as much as I adore reading the books here,” she admitted. “There’s something soothing about the order and tranquility of this room. It’s a world of its own, away from the chaos and demands of palace life.”

“Well, it certainly is an impressive collection,” Daniel replied, his tone genuine as he scanned the shelves.

Juliette decided to push a little further. “Since you’re so eager to help, Daniel, could you arrange these books alphabetically by author? And then by genre, within each section.”

Daniel looked at the towering shelves, each packed with numerous books, and nodded without hesitation. “Of course, Your Royal Highness.”

Juliette watched as he began the task, moving efficiently yet carefully, his focus unwavering. She threw in more specific instructions as he worked. “The historical texts should go over there, and make sure the classics are separated from the modern literature.”

Daniel complied without complaint, even as the tasks grew more intricate. His demeanor remained calm and cheerful, never showing signs of irritation or frustration. He took her detailed directions in stride, organizing the books with precision.

After a while, satisfied with her experiment, Juliette decided to up the ante. “Could you also retrieve the books from the highest shelves over there? I’ve been meaning to reorganize them.”

Daniel nodded, moving to the next set of shelves with the same unwavering dedication. As he climbed the ladder, the scent of his cologne wafted through the air, a subtle blend of cedar and spice, adding an unfamiliar but not unwelcome layer to the library’s familiar aromas.

As Daniel continued his work, Juliette couldn’t help but feel a grudging respect for his patience and efficiency. He didn’t just tolerate the tasks; he embraced them, showing no sign of annoyance or fatigue. When he finally finished, she realized he had passed her test with flying colors.

“Impressive,” she said, unable to hide her approval. “You handled that well.”

“Thank you, Your Royal Highness,” Daniel replied, playfully winking at her. “I’m here to serve.”

As evening fell and it was time to return to her chambers, Juliette walked in front of Daniel, glancing at him a couple of times, noting how he noticed everything around him, always on alert. His presence was a constant, reassuring shadow, even if his cheerful demeanor was unorthodox for a bodyguard.

“So, Daniel,” she said, breaking the silence, “what exactly qualifies you to be my bodyguard?”

Daniel met her gaze steadily. “I’ve had extensive training in combat, strategic planning, and diplomatic negotiation. I’ve protected several dignitaries in high-risk environments.”

Juliette raised an eyebrow. “And what do you know about protecting a princess?”

Daniel smiled slightly, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. “It requires vigilance, discretion, and understanding the unique challenges of your position. Trust must be earned.”

Suddenly, she threw a blade directed at him, thinking he was distracted with their conversation. It was a small, sharp knife she had discreetly picked up from the kitchen as they passed through. But she was proven wrong when he caught it by the handle, right before it stabbed him. He glanced at it and chuckled before looking at her. “Did I pass all your tests now?”

The princess smirked, clearly impressed but unwilling to show it too much. “You’ve proven yourself capable, for now,” she said, her tone still guarded. “But trust is earned over time, not in a single day.”

Daniel nodded, handing the blade back to her handle-first. “I understand, Your Royal Highness. I’ll continue to prove my worth.”

As they reached her chambers, she paused at the door, turning to face him. “Be ready to escort me to our private plane in the morning, let’s see how well you do on an international trip.”

“Understood, Your Highness. I’ll be ready to escort you in the morning,” Daniel said with a nod.

“Also, I’m not sure if you know, but you don’t have to follow me around the palace. You just have to be there when I need you, mainly when I leave the grounds. You’re free to roam around otherwise, do whatever you’d like,” Juliette explained.

“If it is alright with you,” Daniel said, “I would like to stay by your side until you’re used to my presence and until I know your routine, then I can bother the other guards.”

The princess raised an eyebrow. “Bother the other guards? They might not thank me for that.”

Daniel grinned. “Well, I’ll make sure they get used to me. I’ll even bring them pastries from the kitchen as a peace offering.”

She laughed softly, “and that’ll work?”

“I’ll try,” Daniel replied. “Besides, a little charm and a few pastries go a long way in a royal palace.”

Juliette shook her head, still smiling. “I suppose we’ll see how well you handle the job. Just make sure you don’t distract the other guards from their duties.”

Daniel placed a hand over his heart, feigning a dramatic hurt expression. “Me? A distraction? Never.”

The princess raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at her lips. “We’ll see about that. For now, try to stay out of trouble.”

“Trouble and I are old friends,” Daniel said with a mischievous grin. “But I’ll do my best to keep it at bay.”

Juliette chuckled, her expression softening. “Alright then. Goodnight, Daniel.”

“Goodnight, Your Highness,” Daniel said, bowing slightly, then looking up at her before winking playfully.

As Juliette entered her room, a small, amused smile played on her lips. Daniel’s playful demeanour and easy charm were a stark contrast to the seriousness she was used to with her previous bodyguard, Oliver. Despite the initial irritation she felt at his unconventional approach, Juliette found herself intrigued by Daniel’s personality. His cheerfulness, though odd for a bodyguard, seemed to be a breath of fresh air amidst the palace’s often stifling formality. Perhaps, she mused, it was a change she could grow to appreciate.

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NO TAGLIST

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child0feden · 8 months ago

Text

PLUSHIE LOVE

lewis hamilton x wife! reader x ( platonic! ) oc daughter

♡ a look into how winnie started collecting plushies!

୨୧ this is just a little expansion adding onto the plushie ritual from honey hamilton <3

♡ related smau available here, related hc available here and here | view my formula 1 masterlist here

reading music recommendations: little one by philip sheppard - all is full of love by bjork

♡ as mentioned in honey hamilton, lewis began buying her a plushie every time he was away in another country for a race

୨୧ it starts because she’s too young to fly around the world with him so you have to stay home with her and he HATES it!

♡ he hates leaving his girls behind…

୨୧ no matter how much you try to tell him he’s only gone for a little while and you’ll be fine, to him it feels like he’s leaving you for a year and facetime calls only bring him so much comfort

♡ so he started buying a plushie to bring home for her, a way to apologise and gifting her something so that next time he left, she’d have a piece of him still at home with her

୨୧ and when she’s old enough to travel for races with you and lewis, he takes her to stores that only sell plushies, letting her pick out just one for herself ( as much as he wants to spoil her rotten, if he let her go crazy the shelves in her room would be overflowing within a day )

♡ he built her shelves that wrap around her entire room just for her plushies to sit on!

୨୧ one night when she’s a little older, she demands to sleep with ALL of her plushies in bed with ber… you guys peek into her room when the sun comes up and can’t help but share a laugh at how she’s literally buried under plushies, only her head visible and her bedsheets completely hidden

♡ her absolutely favourite plushies is a bulldog one, it looks EXACTLY like roscoe and it’s the one she takes everywhere with her

୨୧ as she gets older, it gets a little worse for wear and lewis sends it off to professionals to get it fixed up, just because it has some major damage like one of the button eyes is hanging by a thread and it has some rips… you guys tell her the plushie needed emergency surgery

♡ the week it was away was the worst week of winnie’s life :( she wanted it back an hour after it was gone but stuck through the week and ran out to meet the mailman who held the package the day it was arriving home

୨୧ she didn’t let go of it for the whole day, marvelling at how much better it looked, professing how glad she was that his “ surgery ” went well, you and lewis cooing from the side over how much of a sweet daughter you raised together

♡ y’know how there are those stores that sell and make custom clothes just for plushies?

୨୧ well lewis and winnie LOVE those stores, at first you thought it was just winnie but then you noticed how lewis actually spent a lot of his own time browsing the store, buying clothes he thinks look good for almost all of the plushies

♡ the plushies even have their own mini wardrobe…

୨୧ you think it’s absolutely insane but also love how he and winnie bond over fashion, even if it’s plushie fashion

♡ lewis absolutely loves to play plushie dress up with his honey! they spend nearly an hour picking out the BEST outfit for just one of them before they come bounding downstairs and into the kitchen where you’re cooking dinner to show you their outfit on their plushie model, lewis making the plushie walk across the kitchen counter like a catwalk whilst his honey giggles at his antics

୨୧ winnie has names for ALL of her plushies too! you and lewis have absolutely no idea how she remembers every single one but lewis has them all wrote down in a notebook with a written description of what the plushie looks like next to the name

♡ for her 5th birthday, you guys took her to build a bear to make her own plushie!

୨୧ lewis thought she would make it a princess or a fairy but she told the worker she wanted her bear to wear a racesuit, just like her daddy…

♡ he was beaming for the rest of the trip, giving her compliments on everything she chose to add to her bear and just adoring how much his little honey looks up to him

୨୧ he looks over at you every now and again, a look in his gorgeous eyes that speaks a thousand words but most prominently “ thank you for giving me such an amazing daughter ”

♡ you could thank him for just as much…

#lewis hamilton x reader #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 headcanons #fluff headcanons #headcanons

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myladysapphire · 10 months ago

Text

My Lady Strong (VI)

Aemond had always been protective of his neice, obssessed even, insiting on keeping her sheltered, and purley his, he never let her stray far and following the incident at Driftmark, Aemma was rarley without Aemond as her shadow. How will the kind, sheltered girl fair in the dance of dragons?

word count: 3,100

CW: MDI 18+, toxic relationship, manipulation, mommy issues, bullying, co-dependancy issues, self harm, not beta read.

Fem!oc x dark!Aemond Targeryen

Masterlist | series masterlist | previous part | next part

disclamer: i do not own any of claim any of the A song of ice and fire characters, all rights belong to GRR MARTIN, all characters are his except for my OC

A/N sorry its been so long! forgot wehat direction i was going in with this story so going off the few notes i had left about this chapter! might be a few changes ive made from the last few chapters, but hopefully it all makes sense! but this story is gonna get dark and sad!

Aemma had been pacing back and forth for the last hour, nerves clear on her face as her mother and brothers were set to arrive in only a days time. She hadn’t spoken to her in what had felt like forever, and she had no idea on what too expect. She thought that perhaps she might have done something but thinking back on the countless letters she had written, she could not think of a single thing she could have possibly said. Perhaps taking Aemond’s side at Driftmark, or perhaps refusing to leave his side after the fact.

She had made her complaint to Aemond, the morning after they had reconnected, he had simply laughed, “oh Aemma, do you really think your mother cares about you? She happily sent you of to wed me the second it was suggested.” He said as he brushed her hair for her, having dismissed her ladies so they could break their fast. “if she cared about you she would have demanded I got to Dragonstone, not you here, she simply wished to be rid of you.”

Aemma looked down, she refused to believe it, her mother had always preached how she was her favourite child, then again, after Driftmark her mother did just send her away, she would have visited her more or asked her to visit if it was true. “Really?” she asked tears in her eyes.

“oh of course” he smirked, “but do not worry dear, soon enough you shall be my wife and she will no longer have to even act as if she cared for you, and you will not have to care for her either.”

She shook her head, and looked up at him, meeting his smirk in the mirror “do you think she loves me still?”

“no” he replied instantly.

A tear fell from her eye “do you love me?” she near begged.

Aemond’s smirk widened, his eyes twinkling, “of course” she turned her head, and he instantly gripped her chin, “and you love me, don’t you?”

“no” she replied. His grip tightened slightly, “I do not know what it is to love Aemond, but perhaps…once we get to know each other more.”

He frowned. “We have known each other our who lives”

“Yes, but these past years we have been distant, I know nothing of you”.

“And whose fault is that” he said stepping away, “was it not for that bastard I would still have my eye! And you would love me!”

She stood up, following him, “how does-“he stopped her, turning around quickly to face her.

“Because it does!” he almost whined, “you were mine! And then you were handed to me on a silver platter and yet all you have done is whine about your mother and your stupid brothers!” he took a breath, allowing her an opportunity to speak.

“I begged to stay with you Aemond, I defended you and –“

“And you begged them to stay also!” she looked at him, she had never told him of the conversation with her mother.

“How do you know that?” she asked bewildered. “and what does that have to do with anything?”

“everything!” after what they did to me, to YOU! And you wanted them to stay” he shook his head, “I went to find you, I needed you and you were begging your mother to stay? Do you think I could forgive you?”

“Aemond-“ she was crying now.

“these past years I have grow into the man I knew you wanted, not the silly little boy you grew up with, but the man you need, my mother has been nothing but a mother to you, and yet you still crave that whore and those bastards”

“I’m sorry Aemond. “she said, reaching for his hands, “your right, I am so sorry, I just wanted my muna, I didn’t mean to hurt you.” She caressed his hand, “but I didn’t want too lose you or her and yet I lost you both!” she whined, “I needed you too!” she cried, wrapping her arms around his waist.

She needed him. Aemond smiled, “goo. because I am all you will ever and have ever needed.” He said holding her to him, “your mother is here in formality over, and at the end of the week she will be nothing to you, I will be your everything, your husband, your protector, your Aemond.”

“And let me remind you sweet Aemma, that without me you would remain Lady strong, a princesses bastard. And yet you betrayed me, begged for our tormentors to stay and if that had happened do you think I would have been able to devote these past five years to becoming your protector, to become the man you desired?”

She shook her head.

“They were cruel to you, hated you. All because your mother favoured you, do you think they will have changed?”

She shook her head again, and started to think back, growing up all she had ever wanted was to marry Aemond, and have him be her protector and never have to see Jace and Luke again.

She had thought that after Driftmark she would never get that Aemond, he had changed the second that eye was taken from him. He became cold and cruel and there was even whispers he was mad.

“but-“she started to speak, a part of her felt like he had turned into them.

He had tormented her for years and now he seemed to be perfect for her. It didn’t make sense.

“But what?” he asked, suddenly moving closer to her.

“you have been cruel, ignoring me then you started to torment me, sending me the heads of Aemma’s roses, as if you were threatening me.”

He shook his head, “I don’t know what your talking about”

“yes you do!”

“no Aemma, your confused, I sent you Aemma’s roses, to show I was thinking of you , and I never cut there heads of” he laughed, “and I only ignored you as I felt so hurt by what you did”

“i- but you cut of-“ she shook her head, “I-I I’m so confused, Aemond I- perhaps I should ask Cassandra, she has a better memory than me –“

“no Aemma, your just misremembering, you’ve always had trouble with remembering things” he said, “and do you not trust me?” he said sounding sad.

she shook her head, “of course not- I, just I thought you hated me for whatever reason and now I must have thought your acts were of torment and not …love” she said unsure.

“it okay Aemma, I know you struggle and I know you have always had difficulties with things” he said softly, “I was hurt and scared you would hate me too, I should have been more upfront, it is all my fault” he said, pulling her into a hug, “I know you are sorry, and I am too”/

He wasn’t, he loved the look on her face when she opened the box of cut of Aemma’s rose heads, loved the way she was scared, but he also realised years of ignoring her had made him seem untrustworthy, and he feared he made a mistake, he had a new strategy to play. At first he wantec her to be scared and run to him for help, but it seems her ladies and beloved Cassandra had gotten in the way of that plan, and made him the villain.

He supposed he had to get them out of the way.

Since that conversation, Aemond had made sure she did not leave his side.

Saying how he missed her dearly, and realising how much he needed her and pushing her away had hurt him more than it hurt her.

She had felt so badly for him, and before he knew it they were back to their old habits, were she went he went, she would even ask him too choose all her clothes, even serve her dinner.

She forgot how simple life was with Aemond, how happy and easy he made her life.

And Aemond was loving it, he loved getting to control every detail about her, she would dress how he liked, believing it her choice to let him pick, she would follow him everywhere, meaning he no longer had to follow her.

The only problem was that her ladies maids were still in the way. They ere there when she woke, and dressed, giving question stares as he would enter her rooms, whispering in her ear about things Aemma would never reveal.

He wasn’t jealous just angry.

He had been hurt all those years ago and ignored her because he wanted to be better. Become the best possible Aemond, become her protector and a man who would never again loose his eyes to is silly little nephews, and someone who would never let them hurt Aemma again.

And it was blatantly obvious that his ignoring of her head made her annoyingly close to her little friends.

He had hidden letters from her mother the first year, then they came less and less, before stopping altogether. He would allow a few of Aemma’s letters to be sent, not before reading them himself. He wanted her too feel isolated, but that had failed, and now it would be too suspicious for Aemma to receive the letters her mother had sent over the years, especially as he had read them all and hated the love his sister had for her daughter, hated that no matter how hard he wanted to hide it, her mothers return would only pull them apart once more.

So he realised the game of isolation needed to change and to get ride of the Ladies he must earn their trust, so he wooed them, by sitting in at their gatherings and showing undivided devotion to Aemma, there was still the issue of Cassandra Baratheon. She despised him, and he here. She was brash and loud, and Aemma’s best friend.

He wasn’t jealous, no, not at all. Not jealous of the way she effortless laughed at her jokes or talked to her without having the perplexed and wanted to please look in her eyes that’s she did with him.

He watched the bitterly as they chatted the day away. She seemed to light up around Cassandra, and he hated it.

“Are you nervous about you mother and brothers return?” Cassandra asked, sipping her tea.

“yes, especially my mother” she sighed, stirring her tea “I did receive a letter from my brothers this morning” she reviled, much to Aemond’s surprise. He had ordered all letters addressed to Aemma be sent to him straight away, how this had escaped him – “I had waited in the ravenry for a reply for my letter, and one had just arrived when I got there.” She reviled, answering what Aemond was wondering.

“what did it say?” Cassandra and Aemond asked simultaneously.

“Luke and Jace were asking about how I am , and saying they were sorry if their actions in our youth and wish for us to reconnect upon there return.” She replied.

“you will do no such thing” Aemond spoke, standing up.

“And why not?” Cassandra asked, clearly unhappy at Aemond.

“because of how they have always treated her!2

“oh please, they were children!” Cassandra spoke, now standing alongside Aemond, “ they have apologized and wish to know there sister, and from what Aemma has told me, I and my sisters have done far worse to each other than they did to her!”

Aemond scoffed, “please, they were bullies, they locked her in the black cells!”

“they- they what?” Cassandra asked, no looking towards Aemma.

“i- its true they did, but they have apologised incessantly since then.” Aemma said, trying to diffuse the situation, “they are my brothers, and they.. they said sorry”

“You still have nightmares Aemma” Aemond spoke, now moving back to his seat and taking her hands in his.

This perplexed Aemma she had never not once told Aemond of her dreams, especially of that night, he himself had always felt partly responsible for it, having taken so long to find her, and having left her alone that night. “what?” she asked, “I never told you about my dreams…”

Aemond flinched sightly, realising his mistake, and Cassandra herself took on an angry expression, “how do you know of those dreams Prince Aemond?” she asked, moving herself closer to Aemond and Aemma, as if to protect her.

“i- she is to be my wife, I only took a concern when the guards said she would often wake screaming.” He said, trying to sound nonchalant.

“but that still-“ Aemma started, slowly removing her hands from Aemond.

“don’t concern yourself too much Aemma I simply stood guard to ensure you did not try to harm yourself.”

Aemma flinched, Aemond cant know about that, no one does. Not even her maids. She had always kept her arms covered, he cant know.

Her eyes betrayed her, showing a scared expression, an expression both Aemond and Cassandra took to be scared about hurting herself.

“I – I” she stuttered, “I don’t know what you-“

“don’t worry Aemma, nothing bad happened, and your brothers wont get anywhere near you” Aemond spoke.

Aemma nodded, trying to mask her own fear of Aemond potentially knowing her secret to make it look like she feared her brothers.

Her parents were set to arrive on the morrow, and All Aemma could do was twist and turn. Dreams had been plaguing her. Ever since the black cells she has been getting premonitions, dreams of what was to come, dreams that have come true.

She supposed she was lucky, Helenas dreams caused her to speak in riddles, some even called her mad. When in truth Aemma was the one who was mad. She scratched and bleed as she dreamed, tearing at the skin on her arm. Her hands felt like they were soaked in blood, her nails turned red, as she scratched and teared. She dreamt of herself, she was married with children, but one was dead. She killed him. She must have, blood was on her hands, on her dress her face. Her other children cowered in the corner, flinching away from her.

“a son for a son!” she woke up gasping, the words ringing in her head.

Her bed sheets were stained in her blood, her arms scarred. The wounds from her last dream only just having healed.

She couldn’t help it, it was if her only escaped from her dreams was to harm herself. Perhaps it had been the three years of isolation she had felt so alone, where the dreams controlled her. She would send days and days tuck in the loop. Until one day her mother wrote to her of needing alliances and how her and Alicent had chosen her ladies. Her ladies had saved her, Cassandra specifically. She would wake her up, help her dress, and for once Aemma had a reason to escape her dreams. But then Aemond’s neglect and ignorance of her had turned cruel, calling her “my lady strong”, a name he had only just stopped calling her.

But something haunted her as she paced around her chambers, Aemond’s torment had put a stop to her dreams, the dreams were there was no dancing dragons, or no blood-soaked hands and gowns. Instead the dreams were of dragon snapping dragons neck, storm soaked nights and screams. And then since this week her nightmares have been full of crying, begging and blood. And now this.

It seemed no matter what her life would be full of tears and screams, and death.

“Aemma.” Cassandra said, walking into her chambers, alongside the rest of her ladies, Cerci Lannister, Cerelle Costayne, Margaret Fossway and Rosia Tyrell.

She had not slept since being awoken from her dreams, she had bathed and dressed, applied ointment to her scares, and had proceeded to pace her rooms nonstop.

She was worried, her mother would be here soon, and she had no ideas what she would be like.

She knew nothing of her, and she feared her mother may no longer love her. And well she was nervous about her wedding, and the wedding night. Aemond and Alicent had told her about it in the past week, and she was scared. And she just needed her Muna.

“how are you feeling?” Cersi asked.

“I am nervous” she admitted.

“of course, you will be wed on the morrow, you are bound to be nervous” Margaret added.

“well i-“

“but think, you will get to marry someone who loves you!” Rosia gushed.

“yes you are so lucky!” Cerelle complained, she had received news yesterday of her father engaging her to some man who had been married twice before and she had never met.

“oh Cerelle, he’s old hell probably die before you can wed.” Aemma said nonchalantly, and Cassandra laughed as she watched Aemma gasp at her own words. “sorry, just today the first time I will see my mother and brothers in years. I’m nervous”

Cassandra grabbed her hand, caressing home gently, “it’ll be okay, I’m sure.” She then looked to Cerelle “ and Aemma’s right, he’s what eight and seventy, he could croak at nay moment!” they all laughed, and for the first time that day Aemma’s mind was finally taken of what was to come.

She stood in the courtyard wating for their arrival, alongside her stood alone, Alicent having to have leave only moments ago to take care of something. She had done all her wedding planning with Alicent, she had comforted her when she cried over her mothers lack of care over her wedding, and visiting her despite her countless letters over the years. But Alicent seemed nervous, as if she was waiting for something or scared of something, and even more so when she had to leave.

After a few moments a carriage finally arrived in the courtyard, and her mother was the first to step out.

She wanted to run to her, to hug her and tell her how she had missed her. But her dream, it rang in her head.

“A son for a son” that all she could hear, and a voice in her head told her it was her mother’s fault, that her mother would force her to kill her son. She didn’t want to think it, but her mothers face, her blood soaked hands and a headless child was all she could see.

She made her way slowly walking down the steps the greet them.

“muña, lēkia” she greeted, a smile gracing her face. “welcome home”

next part

Taglist (bold means could not tag)

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maidenborn · 7 months ago

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Detective Love-struck!

Shoto x reader in which Reader discovers a love letter in her locker, and recruits deku to help her. fem reader, maybe oc deku and shoto idk, reader has an older brother, first little fanfic thingy, I haven't written in god knows how long don't burn me at the stake plz

Word count: 1,707

When you were younger, stupider and shameless, you and your only friend Shoto, would play detective during your free time together. At the age of five, you and your comrade had already solved ONE case, the infamous 'who stole older brother's motorbike?!' case, which you and shoto apparently 'took credit for' or whatever that means. Despite how much you swore to your brother how you and Shoto knew where it was before the police. And how you tipped the cops off with your super secret telepathy quirk that no one but shoto knew about.

He responded with a, "well if you're so smart why don't you figure out where my old 3DS is?? by the way, you don't have telepathic powers, forehead." You'd clench your fist every time that cursed nickname left his lips, but anyways, you accepted his challenge, walking away cursing him with the most vulgar name you could think up, telepathically of course. you swear you heard his breath stifle in shock as you stomped off, coincidence? I think not.

Your winning streak of problem solving ended with anger at your rivals, the police down the road, when they refused to let you into the station after you relentlessly demanded that they let you see the files of fifty year-old unsolved homicide case. The next day you sulked to Shoto during lunch, who stared at you with that blank stare he always does."you tried to break in again?" An accusation?!?!?!? The tipping point.

You fake-angry threw your paper cut-out detective badge, that you and your best-friend made during arts and crafts, with all your strength, only for it to slowly flutter to the ground awkwardly. That day you announced your retirement from the force. Claiming all the hard thinking was giving you wrinkles, that only caused shoto to look more confused, tilting his head to the side. "Wrinkles?"

"On my forehead." You huffed.

Your interest for the antics of detectives on tv and corny live-action crime thrillers died off as your ambition and hope to become a real life pro hero ignited, as did your connection with Shoto, even if you started to see him less frequently as the years of your childhood passed by. It was a blessing that you managed to land a place in class 1-A alongside your companion. Your bond reinvigorated, grew stronger as you were reunited with the boy, the lingering figure of his father, Endeavour had dissipated, granting the boy a newfound freedom. You found yourself spending almost all your free time with him now, way more than you ever did when you were kids. And you were grateful for it. So very grateful.

Now, both you and him had matured, albeit not a lot since you were both fifteen, but in a fifteen year olds eyes, it was a lot. The boy's once chubby cheeks now had a more slim-chiseled appearence. His head of hair was the same length, perfectly split down the middle, not one stray hair misplaced on either side. His eyes were more narrowed and stern, still fronting that blank look that his eyes always held. However hard his stare was when he looked at others, he'd never dare look at you with that coldness, whenever he caught himself glancing at you his creased brow would almost immediately flatten. His gaze defrosted into liquid, a softness so delicate and reminiscent of the early days of your relationship. The days where he'd follow you around, craving the warmth of your presence, your smile, you, and everything a five year old brat could offer. In your case, it was friendship.

You and him were two peas in a pod, Detective Shoto and his partner, Sometimes in class you'd daydream about playing detective with him, like how you used to, but you guess you both were a little too old for that now. Besides it's not like there was any mysteries to be solved in the halls of Yuuei.

Not until today.

"a love letter!?!? oh wow!" Deku shrieked a bit too loud for your liking. His whole body shook as he held onto the straps of his backpack. A few students lingering around the halls looked towards the commotion.

"Yeah but shhh!" You leaned closer to the boy pressing your finger to your lips harder and harder. " I don't want anyone to know, it's embarrassinggg! What if they're messing with me? I don't even know who wrote it! I don't wanna get my hopes up you know..." You mumbled that last part, your finger silencing yourself made it hard to talk. You've never been popular with the male species, only ever receiving confessions as jokes from more popular, less disliked, boys. Not that you minded all that, you had a best friend after all, and he was a boy! You were considered popular and you were liked by him!

You tossed your head about to shake the thought of Shoto to no avail. You felt you cheeks heat up. "Can you read it out to me? Maybe they gave a clue as to who they are!" Deku ignored the redness in your face, chalking it up to nervousness. Yeah, you were nervous alright, nervous about what Shoto would think. He's always been relentless in the pursuit of your attention, you couldn't help but wonder how he would react to all this. Would he be mad? No why would he. He has no reason for all that.

You take your time reading out the letter you found in your locker, looking up to meet Izuku's eyes after every sentence, waiting to see if he caught on to any hidden meanings written in-between the lines of the confession. You'd read the letter countless times, scanning over every word to no avail. Only deciding to drag Deku into your conundrum as he was walking past. Whoever had written the letter gave no clue towards their identity. It was just a confession. No 'can you meet me behind the school later today?' or ' will you go out with me? Just an ordinary love letter. Apart from the last section. At the bottom of the paper read a slightly threatening, ominous quote:

"I'll set your heart alight. "

The words made your chest tighten, but not in a good way. It gave you a funny feeling in your stomach, such a normal letter ending so strongly, you were kind of unsettled. "Don't you think that last parts s'a little odd?" You mentioned after finishing up reading. "Kinda sounds like a threat to me." You suddenly gasp, "What if our undercover lover is a villain! They could be plotting to kidnap me ..or worse!" Due to recent events, everyone had the possibility of kidnapping looming over them.

" Umm.. I doubt that a villain could sneak into Yuuei, especially now. I think it was maybe just an attempt romance." Deku chuckles, trying to lighten the mood.

"No I seriously thi-

"Yn. Midoriya." Shoto Todoroki stood behind you. You hadn't even noticed him sneaking up on you, whether it was his intention or not, he scared you straight.

"Oh! Hi Shoto!" You calmed yourself, turning your head to make eye contact with him. He only grew closer to you, taking the eye contact as permission to get closer. You could feel the air get hotter as he lingered next to you, reaching his head forward so he could peek at what you were holding so tightly in your hands. His eyes offering no insight to his current emotion whatsoever.

"What is that?" Tilting his head. Suddenly embarrassed you smushed the paper into your chest, crinkling it. "Uhhh.. I got a letter! I don't know who it's from though. Not that it matters." You shrugged. Nice, the nonchalant approach.

"What kind of letter?" He strained his neck for a moment longer before backing up. Face still, ice cold. You sighed at his retreat. Anxiety welling up in your stomach, 'why the hell am I so paranoid for?' You thought.

You were about to dodge the question when Deku asnwered for you, "Its a love letter! From someone unknown, we're actually trying to figure out who it could be from!" At that you crumpled in defeat. Thanks a lot Izuku. Why the hell are you trying to cover it up so much anyways? Huh?!? Your inner monologue accused you.

"Oh." He stepped back even more, No longer feeling his warmth, the hall seemed a whole lot colder without him so close, you urged to scuttle up to him, Only to turn to see Shoto preparing to leave.

"Would you like to help us Sho?" You offered, not wanting him to go so soon. Leaning at the hip towards him, head tilted down, eyes looking up at him.

"No thank you. I have to go, Goodbye Yn, Midoriya, good luck." And at that he started to walk away. You rushed to find something to say, deciding to just let him go, offering a small, "Bye Sho." Along with Izuku's cheery goodbye. 'Was something wrong? Did I do something wrong?' Your spiralling thoughts were soon interrupted by Deku," I wonder what that was all about." The look on Izuku's face mirrored yours, laced with confusion, only less angsty than yours.

"he's probably just busy with assignments or something, wants to get ahead." You chirped, lightening the tension.

"weird of him to turn down an opportunity like this though, he's usually all over this kinda stuff, he's a real hardcore theorist sometimes!... don't tell him I said that."

"oh really?" you jest. Tension dissolved, nice. As if you and him weren't attempting to solve murder mysteries during break time a couple years ago. The memory returning to you, you can't help but feel a little sad.

A couple moments of silence and then, "Ive got it! we could track them down through their handwriting!"

"yeaahhh... but the letters printed!" you retired the letter from your iron grip with an obnoxious groan, provoking a handful of glances from students passing by. "good idea though." You shrink into yourself a little, eye twitchy as you try to disappear through sheer willpower.

"the culprit has thought this out really well.."

"Yeah.. no clues or anything. Apart from the curse at the end."

"Yeah."

AAAAAAHHHHHHHHH PLZ LET ME KNOW IF YOU ENJOYED THIS IM WORKINT ON A PART TWO!!!

I don't rlly know how to write stories like this, perchance ill turn it into a mini series or something

part 2

#shoto x reader #mha #my hero academia #todoroki x reader #shoto todoroki #shoto todoroki x reader #AAAAAAAH FIRST FIC HELP #reblog please #mha x reader #PLZ LET ME KNOW IF U LIKE IT #Feedback plz I crave attention #also if there's any errors with spelling or punctuation plz ignorw #todoroki imagine #mha todoroki #mha deku #izuku midoriya #mha shoto #maidenborn

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pomefioredove · 1 month ago

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*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Cauldron of the Reborn: Escape from Black Castle

a fanwritten Halloween event

summary: when Malleus receives an invite from a distant relative to a historic castle in Briar Valley, he can't refuse characters: malleus, lilia, rook, epel, jamil, original character(!) additional info: reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu

I hate everything I've written in the past month except for this series so this is what you're getting now. ENJOY MY TERRIBLE OC!!!

prologue / chapter one / chapter two

taglist: @whatever-fanfics @chloemari-e @frog-fans-unite @sugar-sprinkles

Forest Path - Morning

"I'm hungry!" Grim demands, paws on his hips.

He'd stopped walking in the middle of the crumbling cobblestone, facing the six as if they were a pack of ravenous wolves and he, a band of huntsmen.

...Though, it was more like the other way around.

"We've been walking for hours, and all I've had is seeds! I ain't a bird!"

You sigh, walking around Rook and Jamil to scoop the direbeast up. As soon as he's out of the path, their feet begin treading it again.

"We're almost there, Grim. And there's going to be a banquet, remember? You wouldn't want to spoil your appetite, would you?"

Grim pouts, grumbling something about mashed potatoes and chicken.

Lilia smiles. "He's quite the handful, isn't he?"

"He's two handfuls,"

"Khee hee. And yet you care for him anyway. How fortunate it is that you've found each other in this crazy world," the fae says. "Not everyone has such close friends."

He falls silent. He turns over his shoulder and looks at Malleus, pleasantly reading as he walks.

Lilia catches you looking, too, and smiles again. "He's had his head buried in that book of ancient carvings all day. Cymur is known for their beautiful inscribed stones,"

"This place is pretty old, huh?"

"Ancient. Though not isolated. It was once a powerful kingdom, an important ally to early Briar Valley. Of course, the days of trade and war are long over, and it's rather quiet here, now. Lots of sheep,"

You snort at that, and Lilia's smile softens. The soft pitter-patter of shoes against stone catches up to you, and Epel appears at your side.

"Oh? Come to join the conversation?"

The boy shakes his head, nods, and then- "No- I mean, yes. I wanted 'ta hear the rest of the story you were telling,"

That seems to spark some interest between the five of you (Malleus is still reading, quite contently), and Rook, then Jamil, both join you at your sides.

"I would also like to hear!"

"It would help pass the time, at least,"

Lilia laughs. "Oh, my, you remind me of children, asking for a bedtime story. But... I don't see why not. Let's see...

...Ah, yes. The Lich King, the cruel warlord, who sought to conquer Briar Valley, was powerful indeed- he could summon fire and lightning, disappear and reappear at will, some say he had even immortalized himself... but he was still not powerful enough to see through his plans. And so, he sought for a magical artifact, one so powerful it could raise an entire army."

"An artifact?" Jamil says. "Like something that could grant wishes?"

Epel shakes his head. "It has to be a weapon of some kind. A sword, or a spear!"

"Perhaps a powerful enchantment?" Rook chimes.

"Or a magic mirror?" you ask.

Lilia laughs again, amused by your childish interest and your ambitious guesses. "Khee hee... what imaginations you have! No, no. It was a cauldron,"

The four of you look between each other, and then: "A cauldron??"

"Like the kind you cook in?" Epel asks. "Or the ones Deuce's always dropping on people's heads?"

"I was thinking more along the lines of the ones we use in alchemy, but I share the disbelief," Jamil mutters.

"Khee hee. Technically, Epel's guess was most correct. It was just like one you would cook in!"

"...I don't get it," the boy mumbles.

"What's so special about a cauldron?"

"Ah, you see, it-"

"I recognize that stone," a quiet, yet leering voice calls out from behind your shoulder. You, Epel, and Jamil jump. Rook admires a beetle on the ground.

Lilia is picking his teeth. "Do you, Malleus?"

"Yes. It's in this book," the prince says, pointing towards a tall rock, jutting out of the earth at the precipice of a hill not too far ahead.

"The book says it marks the entrance to Black Castle...

...Which means, we've arrived,"

Black Castle - Bridge

"...Wow,"

Grim is the only one who speaks, and that's all he can say.

Black Castle (or what's left of it, really), sitting atop an island of black stone, casts its shadow over the seven, over the shallow, murky lake that surrounds it, and the dark woods and rolling plains beyond it. Despite its crumbling facade, its boarded holes and missing turrets and wind-whipped canvas cloth, it's massive.

"My," Lilia whistles. "Someone has certainly been keeping it well."

"It's almost as large as Castle Blackscale. Perhaps that's where it got its name?" Malleus asks.

The shorter fae clicks his tongue, and starts towards the thin stone bridge ahead. "Oh, no. This is much, much older than the capital, Malleus,"

The others (Grim still curled up in your arms, chewing the end of your uniform tie) follow him towards the imposing wooden gates ahead.

"There's no doorbell. Surely, no one will hear a knock through that," Jamil says. "We are on time, but-"

The gate responds with a sickeningly loud screech, opening its gaping maw, and the doors beyond.

"Well-guarded," Rook murmurs, an appreciative hand trailing down the wrought-iron case of the doors.

"...Yes, Black Castle was an important stronghold in many wars," Lilia goes in first.

Malleus follows. "Mm? Even-"

"No, not that," the fae says. "This place was already crumbling and decrepit in my youth, and supposedly abandoned. Though now, I see that's not right."

Black Castle - Hall

The rest stays close behind Lilia, as if hiding. None would admit it, but, with the exception of Rook, all were a little intimidated by the castle.

The interior is just as you would have imagined; dimly lit by sconces along the grimy stone walls, ancient tapestries hung along the drafty corridors, silver light from the lancet windows slivered across the floor...

Malleus and Lilia look right at home.

"You say it was abandoned?" Jamil asks, his tone steady, although he's practically clinging to your arm, diligently searching the halls for spiders.

"Oh, yes. Well, that's what we thought," Lilia says. "But it's not uncommon for fae to shack up in whatever old hovel they can find, khee hee."

"This is no hovel," Epel murmurs.

The six (and Grim) walk further into the cavernous castle. Aside from the torches and the rather well-kept state of it, there's no sign of life. Lilia seems rather unbothered by this, but Jamil's brow is knotted and his hands are tight around your forearm.

"Ah, here. Do you hear that?" Lilia asks. Malleus nods, though he's alone.

Epel raises an eyebrow. "Hear what?"

Lilia doesn't answer, rather, walking further, and then you hear what he was talking about- mingled with the scuff of shoes against the stone and the breaths of their peers, is the sound of music.

Malleus tilts his head up, a smile on his lips. "Smells like..."

"Roast lamb," Lilia finishes.

Grim perks up at the word "roast", wiggling out of your arms and scampering ahead on all fours. "I smell it, too! And sausages, and fish, and cheese, and cakes!"

"He can smell all that just from a whiff?" Jamil mutters.

Rook hums, leering over your other shoulder. "Non, he is right. I smell it, too,"

Lilia leads you around a corner, and another, and then to another pair of iron-bound doors, warm yellow light spilling from the cracks in the wood, the smell of food and the sound of merry music stronger than ever.

"A proper reception. How hospitable," Malleus smiles, admiring the engravings in the iron around the doors. "Shall we?"

Lilia nods, but before he can even lay a hand on the wood, the doors open from the inside. Light, the smell of meat, and the sound of harp and flute wash over you.

It takes but a moment to adjust to the starkly different atmosphere of the banquet hall. Its vaulted ceilings and wrought iron chandeliers, floating baubles of light, account for its size, a roaring fire in every corner, tables of food and drink of every palette across each long wooden table. Hooded servants in long black robes move in and out of one of the many doors, carrying silver trays of delicacies, tending to the fires, tidying up in chainmail gloves.

"You two are drooling," you mutter. Grim has stars in his eyes, and Epel isn't far off. Lilia chuckles.

Then, a voice, deep as the valley in which in the castle sits,

"Ah. My esteemed guests of Briar Valley," it says. You all turn to it, and atop a throne, raised high off the ground, is... a boy.

He stands.

If the staglike horns coming from the tousles of dark brown hair, rutilant in the warm light, atop his head and cascading down his shoulders weren't enough to stare at, when he stands, he becomes taller than anyone in the hall. He's pale, almost gaunt, and looks as if he has not slept for a millennia.

The shadow he casts over you is big enough to swallow you whole.

"I humbly welcome you to my home."

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #cauldron of the reborn #well anyway

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